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o o
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
o other than offering them to you in alphabetical directories. o
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o All works are copyrighted to the author and may not be used for o
o profit without obtaining the author's permission in advance. o
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o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o and should not be read by minors. o
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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
Miserable Monica (mc exh hum)
by Duke of Ramus <duke-of-ramus@geocities.com>
***
Monica was the senior secretary, and the oldest of the female staff,
in the company I was working with. Monica was in her late forties and
had been with the firm for over twenty years, longer, in fact, than
the office junior, Emma, had been alive and she was as miserable as
sin. Now whether she had always been like this or it was something
that her, rather turbulent, life had forced upon her was open to
debate, and it must be admitted that we did debate this on a Friday
lunch-time down at the pub.
Most of the women where of the opinion that Monica was a bitch, that
she always had been and always would be a bitch. This may have had
something to do with the fact that as the oldest, and longest serving,
she tried to dominate anything within the company concerning the
women. She did this regardless of whether she was involved or not,
uniforms for the factory floor, where the next social event should be
held, whether a young girl should be taken on, all fell within her
remit as far as she was concerned.
As you can imagine this attitude, and the abrupt way she put her point
across, upset most of the girls. The men had a slightly different
point of view. Yes, she was a bitch and a miserable sod and she did
spend most of her time moaning about anything and everything, but and
it was a big but, her tits were about size 40D, which did tend to
distract us somewhat. Unfortunately for us she kept them well covered
at all times.
Now I'm a mutant, a genetic freak, both of my parents had the ability
to influence people by the power of their minds, not very much, just
an ability to bend peoples will to a more agreeable state. This was a
conscious ability, not something that just happened, they knew they
could do it and had used this power to improve their lives, and mine.
This ability had been reinforced in me, I could, just by thinking at a
person, get them to do whatever I wanted, and unlike hypnosis I could
actually change the way people acted and felt permanently.
My parents had educated me well in the cautious use of my abilities,
pointing out that there were limits to what I could do and how many I
could control at once. Their experiences had saved me from many
disasters as I'd made my way through my early years.
They were on hand when I discovered how twisted and dark the mind of
even the most outwardly honest and kind person could be, when I was
shocked to find how much time people spent dwelling on sex, and much
of it what, even they themselves, would call perverted and shocking.
They offered me strength and support when I needed it, before letting
me free to live my life the way I wanted.
I had used my powers to get my business started, it came in useful for
cutting out the bullshit that many people sprouted when you asked what
were simple questions. It gave you the ability to actually provide
what your customers wanted not what their mouth's said they wanted,
because of this my company became well respected and grew. I was able
to pick and choose my staff carefully, knowing in advance what their
personal plans were, I was able to 'help' them achieve better results
by solving some of their internal problems, this enabled them to
become part of a successful team and allowed the company to reach a
size I was happy with. Now I could pick and choose my customers and
only did what work was required to keep me comfortable and the company
profitable, without having to worry about it.
I was working for the company Monica worked for as a part time
consultant on their computer systems, two or three days a week I went
in and helped keep the system running smoothly, I would sort out new
hardware and help with any problems that the users had, and as Monica
was a user of one of the machines I'd felt the sharp edge of her
tongue more than once, often because of things she herself had done
wrong.
One final attack of verbal abuse over the results of another of her
mistakes had finally succeeded where most other people had failed, she
had managed to make me angry and so I started to plot my revenge, to
actual set about to 'correct' her social failings, (OK get my own
back).
Having sat and planned for a while, my parents training having made me
cautious, I had decided that she needed to be humiliated, publicly,
with as many people who she had bullied or abused present as possible
before I adjusted her mind to a more agreeable form. This required
that everybody from work be present and the easiest way of achieving
this was at a works function of some sort with me invited to attend.
I approached all the right people and made my suggestions to them and
a summer dinner/dance was arranged. I had to do a bit of leaning on
people to get them to agree to the party being a solo affair, no
partners to be present, except for those who were both employed by the
company.
I had decided that Monica's downfall was to be a two part operation,
in the first she would be seen to criticise people for their
behaviour, and the second part, obviously, was for her to perform in
the same way, or even worse. I had already decided who my accomplices
were going to be, even if they didn't know it yet, the first was
Monica's former husband, well one of them anyway, he used to work for
the company but had left to set up his own engineering business, he'd
left Monica at the same time. He still did work for the company and so
got an invite in the same way that I had. He was a bit of a lad, very
fit and enjoyed flaunting his body, I was just going to help him along
a little.
The second set of unwitting accomplices were a couple who worked for
the company. They had been going out together for a year or so and
were as horny as hell, they had difficulty keeping their hands off
each other at work so there should be no problems helping them to
perform after a couple of drinks. All I had to do now was wait for
the function to come around, and that did prove difficult, I found I
was enjoying the feeling of anticipation, probably more than I was
going to enjoy the actual act. I was even being nice to Monica, which
I think worried her a little. The big night eventually came upon us.
My first instruction was to Monica before we left work on the Friday,
I told her that she would be dressed as sexily as she could for the
party and to definitely wear stockings. She, of course didn't know
that she had been instructed, she would just decide it was a good idea
when she was getting ready to go out.
I arrived early to ensure that I got the sort of seat I wanted, I was
going to have a good time and I didn't want to miss any of the
entertainment. I watched as people arrived, you could se many of them
flirting with their colleagues, something that wouldn't have happened
if their partners had been present.
Monica showed up about half an hour after I'd got there, I'd already
got Emma and a couple of the other girls to sit at my table so when
Monica made her way towards us it seemed perfectly normal.
Monica had dressed in a blue suede suit consisting of a wrap around
skirt and matching blouse, she was wearing four inch high heels and a
leather handbag, all in matching blue, a very expensive looking
outfit. I knew she was wearing stockings because I had told her to but
you couldn't tell that when she walked towards us. She had shoulder
length dark wavy hair which nicely framed her face, her boobs pushed
the blouse forward making a very pleasant valley for us men to gaze
down, if you could get close enough.
The evening started very well, we were sat around the table, drinking,
waiting for the entertainment to begin, Monica was on vodka and orange
whilst I had a single lager shandy, I was definitely staying sober
tonight. The compare came on stage and the evening's fun began, we had
a comedian who wasn't to bad a group then took the stage and invited
us all to dance whilst they played. Monica passed a few bitchy
comments about the two girls who fronted the band, they being blonde
and wearing short skirts meant that they were bimbo's as far as Monica
was concerned.
The group was on stage for three quarters of an hour, and at the end
of their first session Monica was telling anybody who would listen how
bad they where. We were spared slightly when the meal was served, but
she kept up a steady stream of complaints throughout the meal, she
also kept drinking, quite a bit more than she realised. By the time
the meal was finished she was totally pissed, I stopped her drinking
anymore at that stage, I didn't want her to pass out before she'd had
her little performance now did I.
Once the meal had been cleared away we all settled down for the bands
next session. Monica could clearly be heard moaning as they took to
the stage, a lot of people, including the band were giving her evil
looks but she seemed oblivious to them. The band started it's act and
most people, away from Monica, seemed to be enjoying it, her ex
husband took to the dance floor and started to strut a few of the
younger girls started to add vocal encouragement to his show, urging
him to 'ger em off' I gave him the faintest of nudges and away he
went.
First his shirt was whirled around his head, eventually ending up
flying in the direction of his chair, then he hoped around as his
shoes and socks came off, then he undid his belt and everybody cheered
when he approached Emma, hooked his belt around her neck and led her
onto the dance floor.
>From where I was sat I could see him giving her instructions so when
>he moved
back from her slightly she went down on her knees and started to undo
his trousers, his audience were chanting 'Yes, Yes, Yes...' in time
with the music.
Just as his trousers hit the floor, and before Emma, or anyone else
for that matter, can get near him Monica goes charging onto the dance
floor, bowls Emma over and grabbing her former hubby drags him away.
The crowd that had gathered around jeered her as she left.
People settled down and started to dance after that little bit of
excitement and the band slowed the pace down, switching to smoochie
tunes. Couples started to get together and you could see a lot of
cuddling happening on the dance floor.
My second set of accomplices were already up there and her tongue was
so far down his throat I was surprised I couldn't see it sticking out
of his bum. He had both of his hands under her blouse, having a slow,
thorough feel of her tits, as he moved his hands around her back I
could see her stiff nipples showing through the material of her top.
As the time went by I lowered their inhibitions a touch and he started
to undo her blouse, she had her hands working on the front of his
trousers, squeezing his stiff prick. Her tits had just popped out and
her hand had slid inside his trousers when Monica walked back into the
hall, she went ballistic, calling the poor girl every type of slut
under the sun, such was her belief in her power that everybody just
stood there and let her do it. The two of them left with the girl in
tears, Monica stamped over to her table, seething, people turned their
backs on her as she moved past.
She slammed into her seat and grabbed her drink, now was the time to
start, I moved into her mind and pulled all the right levers, as she
gulped at her drink her body became infused with the alcohol, it
having a much greater effect than it would normally have done. She
blinked hard and looked around, I watched, silently amused as she put
down her drink and gave her tits a quick squeeze, her nipples perked
up under this treatment. A quick thought at the leader of the band and
then back to Monica, who clambered to her feet and then, unsteadily,
up onto the table, she tottered there and looked around.
People started to notice, and stopping what they were doing watched
her, swaying, again she squeezed her tits and then the band started to
play 'the stripper'. Monica just went with the music, her fingers went
between the buttons on her blouse, gripping the edges she tore it
open, her arms coming swinging backwards where she dropped the
tattered remains of her blouse behind her. Her hands returned to her
tits, which were now covered by a beautiful, blue lacy bra, she forced
them together, jiggling them up and down for everybody to see. She
slipped her hands behind her and unclasped it.
She then pointed her arms straight out ahead of her and then, with her
legs held straight she started to bend from the waist, as though she
was touching her toes, the bra was pushed from her body by the weight
of her magnificent boobs before dropping off her arms onto the floor,
she jerked back upright her tits bouncing in front of her.
She spun around, her eyes lidded, allowing everybody to see her
splendid tits, then her hands moved to the side of her skirt and after
a little fiddling she released the clasp holding it shut. She twisted
the skirt around her hips, bringing the split to the front and then
moved it around the back, giving everyone a quick flash of her
stocking tops. She removed the skirt like you would pull the string
from a top, spinning herself around with the skirt held at arms length
in one hand. Her G string matched the bra, just a little piece of lace
at the front and a piece of string which disappeared, invitingly,
between the cheeks of her arse. She dropped her skirt on top of her
blouse before parading around the edge of the table, looking down at
all her colleagues who were clapping and encouraging her to continue.
She stopped facing me and then with her legs spread shoulder width she
again bent forward until she could look back through her legs, she
then slipped her thumbs into the elastic of her G string before
pulling it down, it caught at her crutch and so the elastic was pulled
tight down to her knees, she gave a little shimmy and the elastic
snapped down to her ankles. Still bent over she stepped out of her
knickers and ran her hands over her bum cheeks, parting them for her
audience.
As she stood back up her hands moved over her pussy, giving it a quick
rub before she turned around her arse now pointing at me. She stepped
back to the middle of the table and started to sway with the music,
moving up and down, her feet stationary on the table. On the table,
between her legs, was a wine bottle, on one of her journeys downwards
her pussy touched the top of the bottle. She looked down, smiled and
then shuffled sideways slightly, then she positioned herself carefully
before staring to insert the bottle into her pussy.
The people watching started to applaud, which just encouraged her to
move faster. As she raised her pussy off the bottle you could see
where her juices had smeared the neck of the bottle, she kept dipping
lower and lower, more and more of the bottle getting coated as she
performed. A chant of 'more, more...' went up and Monica responded by
sinking lower still.
Suddenly she stopped moving, her stomach could be seen rippling and
her mouth was wide open, unlike her eyes which she'd screwed shut. She
held this position for about thirty seconds before her eyes slowly
opened, a smile crossed her face and she slowly started to move again.
Monica now seemed determined to get the whole of that bottle into her
cunt, she was covered in sweat, little rivers trickling down between
her tits and her arse cheeks, her mouth open, dragging in gulps of air
each time she dropped down on the bottle. Then and almighty cheer went
up as her arse hit the table, the bottle totally engulfed in her cunt.
She held that position a smile on her face before slowly starting to
rise, but this time she clamped the bottle in her cunt, you could just
see the base, a green circle with her pussy lips stretched around it.
When she was upright she turned round slowly, bent slightly forward so
that everybody could see that the bottle was fully swallowed. Once
she'd done the full turn she squatted back down , and with a show of
stomach muscle, ejected the bottle back on to the table. A torrent of
her juices followed the bottle, soaking the surface of the table.
Monica stood back up, and after giving her appreciative audience a
curtsy, climbed down off the table.
She grabbed her clothes and moved over to where I was sat, she pulled
on her blouse then wrapped the skirt back around her waist, the rest
of her clothes she stuffed into her handbag before sitting down
opposite me. Once she was seated took a firm grip of her mind and
allowed her to realise what she had just done, I felt the shock that
coursed through her as each event was replayed in her mind. I held her
mouth firmly shut but her head was allowed to turn, and she
frantically scanned the people around us. She was rewarded with a
great many smiles and even the odd wink, but nobody seemed to
disapprove of what had happened.
I made her compare what she had done with what she had been stopping
others doing earlier, made her realise how much of a hypocrite she now
looked, I heaped humiliation on humiliation, torturing her battered
mind until I felt a final shudder as her defences to her spirit
crumbled. From here I started to re-build her in, what I hoped, would
be a better form, more caring and forgiving that she had been for such
a long time.
This wasn't going to be a quick job, and I knew that it would take
more than one session, but the major changes I could do now. Her speed
of verbal response was slowed down, to allow her time to think before
she spoke, her willingness to listen to others was increased as was
her amusement level, she would now listen to people, think, realise
that they were joking and so not dive down their throats.
Her sex drive was also tweaked, or to be more precise her inhibitions
were lowered, Monica had obviously been hurt in the past and had built
a wall between her sexual self and the outside world, this was now
lowered quite considerably.
All that was left now was for her to meet the new Monica, so I said
"Monica, would you like to dance with me." Whenever I'd suggested
something similar before she'd just scowled and brushed me off, this
time she looked at me and, with a strange glow in her eye's, slowly
nodded, yes she would.
Monica's future now looked a lot happier, as was mine, one of the
consequences of the number of sessions it took for me to complete her
change meant that we became very good friends, maybe I'll tell you
about some of our adventures sometime.