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From: alebeard@earthlink.net (Alebeard)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.bondage
Subject: The Book, Repost, Various sm stories - book.txt [11/11]
Date: 24 Jun 1996 22:56:42 GMT
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    If you're an American, contact your Congress critters and let them
    know you vote and find the CDA offensive.  Do it now, today.  This
    posting would _NOT_ be possible under a fully-enforced CDA.  Who
    do you trust to choose what is decent and indecent for you?

    Don't use the excuse that you don't know how to contact them:  Go
    to <A HREF="http://ast1.spa.umn.edu/juan/congress.html">Contacting
    the 104th Cogress</A> maintained by Juan Cabanela.  Phone, fax,
    address, it is all there.  Contact them early and often.  Let them
    know you are registered to vote (Getting the hint here? If you're
    not registered to vote --- get registered!) and question their
    vote to restrict your access to information on-line.

    Check out <A HREF="http://www.eff.org/blueribbon.html>The Blue
    Ribbon Page</A> for more information on what you can do to protect
    free speech on-line.  Remember the power is in your hand to simply
    vote the bums out.
    </SOAPBOX>

The curator of the MNA most likely did NOT write the story which follows.
Authors, when known, are acknowledged in the body of the file.  Assemble the
various parts of related messages, removing everything outside the [BEGIN]
[END] markers and you'll have the "complete" story.  See the MNA Index posted
to alt.sex.stories.d for chapter counts and synopses.  Note that the MNA
posting counts and authors' chapter counts are completely unrelated.

If you have similar materials, please repost them, too.

Comments, encouragement, and additional material for the archive gratefully
received; flames, repost requests, and e-mail requests rapidly dispatched to
the void.  There is no public archive of these stories that I know of; see
SOAPBOX above.  I will no longer acknowledge messages asking for one.

If you're an author in the MNA and you do not want your story reposted:
Contact me at ladd@cs.unc.edu and I will remove your story from the
reposting list.  If you're an author of an Unknown story and you want to
take credit for it, contact me as well, please.

[BEGIN]
Happy she had in some way pleased her man.

Now stiff, he stepped to Naomi's bottom. Prying her cheeks apart, he 
exposed the small hole, her back door. Naomi squirmed enough to move 
her head, allowing her to see Bob behind her. He gave her his best 
reassuring smile, and rubbed the head of his prick against the little 
pucker.

"Yike!," she squealed as he pushed in the first inch of the head of 
his cock. She writhed a bit more, either from discomfort or from 
pleasure, he couldn't tell without probing her right now. He decided 
to enjoy her without snooping for a moment. He pressed in further, 
letting the tight muscles ease back after each inch.

"Oh my god, it's huge, oooh noo," the woman groaned.

Bob knew he wasn't huge, but she obviously felt he was.

"I, uh, I've never taken someone like this before," she told him. He 
plunged another inch in. "OOOH!"

Her eyes were wide open, surprise showed across her brow. He wondered 
if it were true. The idea she would be a sex toy here and no one used 
her this way before surprised him. He didn't think it mattered too 
much though.

He plunged into her to the hilt. She gasped again, tears at the 
corners of her eyes.

Building an in and out motion took a few minutes. She wasn't 
accustomed to his prick in her ass. She began to respond however, with
some excitement as the activity became more rhythmic.

"oh yes! more," she mumbled into the couch.

Jodi stepped around to sit on the couch. A moment later she was 
playing with Naomi's nipples, pinned against the cushions.

Bob could feel his balls slapping against the outer cunt lips beneath 
the entry he'd chosen. Each slopping sound elicited another gasp from 
the woman he was using. She tried to press back against him, but the 
position she was in left her completely helpless.

He pounded against the helpless and frantic woman. Pistoning into her
nether hole, Bob felt her clamping down on him. Her countenance had
taken on the glow of someone approaching ecstatic freedom.

"Unngh," the moan rose from her throat, "oooh yesss."

Jodi bent to Naomi's exposed nipple, sucking it into her mouth.

"AAAH YESS," the pinned woman shuddered violently.. Then she pealed out
a stronger scream, "AIAIIIIIEEEEEYESSSS!"

Bob found the surge come up within himself as well. The clenching 
sensations of orgasm brought a tightening pulse, thrusting the seed of 
his body into her.

Bob grunted out again. Pushing into her again forcefully. Then he
stopped, embedded within her ass.

"Now tell me how you feel, Naomi."

"Weak. Very, very weak," she muttered sleepily.

Jodi looked pretty satisfied with the whole thing. Pleased at the 
outcome.

Bob finally withdrew to the sounds of whimpering from Naomi. She 
hadn't wanted him to leave her. Bob smiled at her delightful floating 
afterglow.

"You better get dressed," he told the girls. Then he wandered to the 
bathroom to get a shower. Standing under the running water would be 
very relaxing about now.

====

"Excuse me, but I don't get it."

"What don't you get, Jones?"

"Why we stopped the scanning, the electronics work just fine."

Thadeous put down his pencil, and leaned back at the desk.

"Sit down."

Jones pulled one of the stiff wooden chairs over from the work table. 
He brushed the seat. Then he sat down smoothly, facing his boss.

Thadeous leaned forward again to speak.

"We know where the spark is. He's in New York. We also know he's
virtually undetectable to scanners." 

"Yes, but we can pick up other sparks. All we need to do is pull our 
staff away from any area he comes near."

"You miss the point. If he can evade scanners, other sparks can too.
We can't have any of them finding some of our people. No, it's better
to allow financial to hunt. We caught more that way before in any
case."

"Oh." He pondered a moment. "It's an awfully low probability event.
Isn't it an acceptable risk?"

"When we still had the facilities of the research center, yes. Now as 
we scrape for every qualified staffer, no."

"What about this spark, this Robert Lawrence? Shouldn't we do
something about him?"

"No need. My instructions say he will be taken care of. Don't sweat 
it. You worry about getting the staff running. I'll worry about the
loose spark. okay?"

Glumly, Jones nodded.

"We've got other work to concentrate on," Thadeous repeated softly.

====

Betty greeted Bob at the door. She looked freshly fucked, having that 
glow about her of one who has recently come.

Bob grinned. The girls must have been playing. She wore a narrow 
bathing suit that covered her just enough to be decent if a stranger 
had been outside the door. He found her sweet ass still enticed him.

"Well. What's going on?"

"Oh," she turned red, still little priggish. "We've been playing."

"Tell me who started it."

She turned her head in embarrassment. 

"I was cleaning the room, it wasn't my fault. Really."

"Oh yeah?"

"Randi started it," she pouted. "All I did was walk around her while I
was cleaning."

"So what happened?"

"She tried to grab me. I told her I was busy," Betty stuck her nose up
in the air. "The silly dyke didn't like my answer."

Bob looked at her, wondering if the adjustments he'd made were wearing
off. Then he realized she'd been teasing Randi on purpose.

"So what did she do?"

"Went to Bambi to complain." She pouted again.

"And?"

"Bambi made me eat Randi out, right then and there." She looked down, 
grinning, but shuffling her feet. "Then she fucked me twice with those
toys you bought us." Her grin got bigger with this last statement.

"Good. Oughta teach you not to tease if you won't follow through."

"But I'd have been happy to make it with Randi," she protested. "I 
just wanted a little more, um, playing first."

"I don't think Randi sees it as playing, sweetheart. Teasing her only 
gets her real hot and anxious."

"oh." 

"Where are Randi and Bambi now?"

"Bambi got excited watch me and Randi. She's making Randi."

Bob laughed aloud. Couldn't leave the girls alone for a minute.

"And Cindy? That tasty little oriental girl I brought home?"

"She's in the hot tub." She pouted again. "You said we couldn't play 
with her until you took her."

"Thank you. Why don't you go clean up. I'd like you in something more 
concealing for a while. Find some nice way to dress to turn me on."

Spritely, she turned on her heels. "Yes sir, master sir."

Grinning Bob walked towards his bedroom. Pounding and thumping, 
combined with the sounds of two women gasping or moaning with lust 
reached his ears.

He stepped inside the bedroom.

On the floor, not even in the bed, the large bosomed woman was pinned 
underneath the brunette. Randi had Bambi pinned at the wrists. The 
short haired woman was thrashing about as Randi, wearing a strap on 
dildo, fucking away madly at brown cunt beneath her.

"Oh! God! YES! YES! YESSSS!" came screeching from Bambi. The 
brunette grunted from the exertion of fucking her. "YESS!"

"oooohhh," came the sigh from the orgasming woman as she started to 
wind down from the pounding she'd taken.

Randi looked up and noticed Bob. She grinned proudly, as if to say 
"look what I did."  She kept Bambi pinned however, dildo pushed deeply
in her pussy. 

He smiled back.

There just had to be a suitable punishment for this frivolous 
behavior. He wondered just how many times he could get it up in one 
night.

====

"What do you mean, you met him!?" 

Chi was confused by the voice from his phone.

"He came, we chatted about how we all cooperate with each other. I 
even gave him a gift as honor requires..."

"You fool!" There followed a brief pause, and a sound that could have 
been a breaking pencil. "You were told to kill off any contact with 
the assassin. Now he'll backtrack, you schmuck!"

"I do not understand. I thought he was a member of the 
organization...," Chi looked with irritation at the phone, now dead in
his hand.

If they didn't want him to befriend the tall man, why did they give 
him his address, he thought.

****

                 _Booked to the Rafters_

Jorge was sitting alone, watching departure times for the trains.

A man wearing a mind shield had led him here from the Sears Tower. For 
some reason, instead of getting a plane to Denver, the man was taking
a berth on Amtrak. 

Jorge finally went to the phone to try reaching Charles again. He
found it impossible to reach the Cabal's enforcer for two days now.
When the secretary at the New York office once again told him Charles
wasn't there, he had to consider other options.

After some thought he dialed another New York number. 

"Hello?," the voice was a woman's whiskey tenor, husky and delicious. 

"I'd like to speak with Bob."

"He went uptown on business," she replied. "Can I help you, or take a 
message?"

"This Bambi?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"It's Jorge. Tell him I'm on my way to Denver. I should be there by 
tonight. It's the Institute..." He paused wondering if he should have 
said that, too late now. "I think he should come too."

"I'll tell him. He'll come. Where will you be staying?"

"There's an office in Boulder he can contact. He should be able to get
the number from our New York people."

"Very well. Anything else?"

"No. Good-bye."

"Later then..."

The clatter of the telephone was distant as she hung up. Jorge decided
to go to the airport and fly after all. He walked past a couple in
romantic embrace, and headed for the street.

Almost predictably there were no cabs around.

Jorge didn't have time to wait. He borrowed a passing car and driver.
O'Hare was always such a mess to get to anyway, why wait?

====

Walking this street made Bob uncomfortable. 

It wasn't the street so much as the people here. He was far more out
of place here than he expected. Fear rose inside, coming from the
place where he drew himself to when he was not in control.

Even the Voice didn't make Bob feel as distant from the rest of the
world as this, the sensation of being the only white face in a large
herd of people. There was a surging current of animosity as well. And
that was just what he could see in the faces, the minds were sometimes
worse.

The fear he hadn't felt when being shot at in Brooklyn swiftly gripped
his chest here.

He had diverted three gangs so far, seeing him as easy prey. Nothing 
would save him from a sniper he didn't spot in time though. He saw no 
police either, rather... he had seen four officers. They gathered 
together as though in numbers their own risk was mitigated by the 
other targets.

The police would only get in his way, attracting even more unwanted 
attention.

He walked up from the edge of Central Park. It was a nice day, until
he noticed his tension growing. He wondered if a black in a crowd of
white's felt a similar undercurrent of hatred. He never noticed, but
hadn't looked for it before. 

The poverty he saw didn't escape him. Many of these people had nothing
to lose, consequently his sense of personal danger rose further. He 
was too well dressed to be here, not to mention he already looked like
an easy mark.

He drew in on himself, vowing never to come back after this exercise.

With some small relief, he found the church he sought and climbed the
steps. It was nestled between a pair of brownstones, it's windows
either broken or shuttered over with plywood. The grafitti leapt out,
belying the purpose of the structure. A small, hand painted sign read
"Church of Jesus Christ Lord".

He tried to smile, but knew somehow it had come out as a fractured
caricature of a grin. The foreboding from the surroundings kept his
reactions subdued.

The doors opened to his touch, a quiet stillness within.

He found himself entering a small entry hall in far better condition
than the exterior of the building. A small locked donation box sat 
chained to a table beside the entrance to a chapel. 

An eerie sense climbed his spine, the chapel hall was empty. Some
candles were lit on a table to the right of the pews. An intense
sweet odor overrode a dusty, moist aroma of infrequent cleaning.

He examined some of the literature, finding explanations of the rigors
of baptism and other related theology, a 'retreat' boot camp for
Christians, and other assorted brotherhood forms of worship. He
smiled, these were familiar, even if the location had him on edge.

Spotting a sign labeled "office", he followed the arrow through a
door. A set of stairs led down to a long hallway, the office clearly
labeled halfway down the hall. Stepping up to the opaque glass door,
he entered without hesitation.

In the dark room, on the floor, amid piles of scribbled on paper, sat
the man he knew he was looking for. A paunchy fellow dressed in black
with a cleric's collar, sat clasping a pen in his fist, trying to
draw a picture on the back of a letter he'd found.

"Ahwannaplaysomebodynow," burbled the grown man. He rolled to the
side. It became apparent from the stench and large wet spot on the
floor he had messed himself. 

Bob shook his head. He was too late.

Looking about he saw two walls were covered with theological works.
One wall without books had a number of framed certificates, degrees
from seminaries, and a Masters in Social Sciences from the University
of Michigan. Photos, also on the wall, showed an affluent family in a
reasonably suburban neighborhood. Relatives probably.

Bob reflected, the man poured his life into helping the local needy,
only to be injured in this hideous manner by Bob's new enemy. He
walked over to the desk. Finding a phone, he dialed the police. At
least they could find someone to take over for the poor man.

Bob tried to probe the black minister, only to find nothing left but 
childhood. The institute may have come up with a way to do this, but 
he doubted it. Either the guy went around the bend real suddenly, or 
someone with Voice erased this man's mind.

Charles would have to listen now. This could attract exactly the wrong
kind of attention, if it happened often enough.

Bob couldn't understand is why the guy wasn't just dead. There was no
indication his mysterious enemy had any compunction against murder so
far.

Bob turned to leave. He took a few steps towards the door.

"Nastyladylefttoo." It was a child's tones in a man's voice.

The chill returned to Bob's spine as he heard this. He turned back.
The no longer adult eyes were intent on Bob, a fear of being left
alone shone there. Instinctively, Bob shuddered.

"Tell me about the lady, little boy." Bob tried to force his voice into
a friendly tone.

"Lady gone." Bob probed the memory rising with the statement. There
was a woman, in a dark black dress, wearing a veil. How very apropos
for this cloak and dagger stuff. The oddly twisted man on the floor
could remember her perfume, an intense sweet smell. She had shoulder
length black hair in a 50's style perm, and wore low black work heels.

This victim remembered her laughing in a deep, almost masculine tone as
she left him on the floor, putting a large pistol into her purse. Bob 
thought of the sweet smell as he came into the Church. He must have 
just missed her.

Bob shuddered. Why would a woman from Cabal want him dead?

He waited for the police. A child shouldn't be left alone.

====

The sunlight streamed in from the apartment's western windows.

House plants had turned their leaves into the warm beams, silent in 
photosynthesis. The number of planters caused the potted soil smell to
prevail over other musty odors. 

Outside, it was a warm day. The trees on the hillside were moving in 
the Colorado breezes rolling down from the mountains, but the warmth 
would penetrate Diane if she wandered out.

She wasn't going to wander out though. Heather wanted her nearby, and 
Diane desperately wanted to be with Heather. Her soul longed to 
frolic in the clean country air, to look over the beautiful vista 
below and soak up sunshine.

Heather reached out and stroked her hair. Diane shuddered with 
excitement at the attention. Her back tingled with the hope her 
mistress would command her services. She dared not ask, Heather would 
simply grin, then go do something else. 

"Hello my pretty."

"Hello my love," she replied.

"I think I want you to eat me, my pretty," the red head almost moaned,
"Would you like that?"

"Oh my love, I would like anything you enjoy."

"Well, you aren't going to eat me now, my pretty."

Diane's heart fell. Heather enjoyed teasing her like this. On occasion
she made Diane wait hours, teasing her with those long auburn locks,
the smooth curves of her body, and an occasional hint of a kiss.

Heather seemed to get great pleasure in using her as a foil for her
desire. She sat still, awaiting Heather's pleasure. The telepath's
fingers slid down Diane's shoulders, lingering at the raised line of
her bra. A pout crossed the freckled face Diane lusted after.

"You shouldn't be wearing this today."

Diane quickly pulled her t-shirt over her head. A suggestion from
Heather was a command to her. In moments she had the bra clasp open,
drawing the bra off too. Her full breasts fell free, swaying
a little as she moved.

As she reached for the t-shirt to put it back on, Heather grabbed her
by the wrist. The soft, yet strong grip made Diane freeze, waiting
the woman's pleasure. 

Heather held her pinned by the wrist, with her other hand she traced
little circles around the exposed nipples. Diane drew in a gasp as
each nipple sharply rose to attention. Her shoulders instinctively
pulled back, pressing her ample bosom forward towards the exploring
fingers.

"Desperate little pretty, you want to be my toy, don't you?"

Diane looked into her lover's eyes.

"I long for your every touch."

Heather smiled as she stroked the nipples of Diane's luscious
breasts. Diane wavered a bit, her eyes fluttered as the pleasurable
sensations grew outward from the molesting fingers.

She moaned, almost imperceptively. Heather grinned at the helpless
response. The fingers played across the pale round skin of the 
ex-reporter's mounds. Sensations drew her into the hazy joy of 
arousal. Her body swayed in almost involuntary ecstasy.

As quickly as it began, it stopped. Only the fingers around her arm 
remained. Diane whimpered, frustrated by the teasing touches she 
received.

Heather pulled her over to the porch doors, making her face outward. The 
courtyard below was empty, but Diane knew it didn't matter. Heather 
opened the french style doors one handed, forcing Diane through with 
the other hand.

Diane remained aroused, excited by any contact with Heather. The 
redhead's attention was everything to her right now, the rest of the 
world didn't even exist. 

"Hold the rail," Heather commanded.

Diane leaned forward, taking hold of the stone railing before her. Her
breasts swung slightly in the open air, but only Heather was there to 
see.

Heather reached about to the snaps on Diane's jeans. Undoing them, she
then yanked the faded blue cloth over Diane's waist and down to her 
knees. Diane shuddered in excited anticipation.

"Oh my pretty, you left your panties off for me," Heather sounded 
pleased.

"Yes my love."

Heather rubbed her own crotch against Diane's naked bottom. The 
roughness of the clothe sharply accented the sensation. Diane moaned 
with need.

"Wait here pretty."

Diane could feel Heather leave her. But she held the rail, just as
directed. She would not disobey her lover. A few moments later she
could feel, or rather sense a presence behind her again.

"Stand still, my pretty, but part your legs for me."

Diane sighed, and moved to obey. She was more than happy to have 
Heather use her, but when Heather left it sometimes meant she was to 
satisfy someone else. She'd begun to dread servicing the needs of the 
Jones man.

While she was standing exposed for Heather's leisure entertainment, a 
large black car pulled up in the courtyard. The driver rushed out to 
open the door for someone.

Heather started to rub something against Diane's outer lips. Then it 
was thrust inside. A thick and long object had been inserted into her 
moist vagina and behind it, Heather's waist slapped against her ass.

"OOOOH!" Diane was quite startled. She gasped out another surprised 
syllable as Heather started the motions of fucking her with the toy 
penis. 

Below the driver helped someone in a black dress and a veiled hat step
out of the car. The woman's dark hair ended at her shoulders. She 
looked up at the naked women on the balcony.

"Unng!" Diane was beyond her own control. She held the rail tightly, 
her knuckles whitening as she bore down. 

"Oh yes, pretty will come for me, won't you pretty?"

Diane knew she was expected to talk to Heather throughout her orgasm. 
If she failed to do so, Heather might not touch her for a long time.

"God yes, oooh, lover take me, please, unnng! Please let me come for 
you, let me give you my, oooooh!"

Diane could scarcely keep her eyes open. Her body rocked against the
phallus substitute. Head down, hair rolling before her eyes, Diane
ground herself back as Heather pumped forward.

"Oh, fuck me, please. Unnng! Please!"

Heather reached around and touched Diane. Diane felt the finger hit 
the tender flesh at the top of her pussy. Sensations of flaming lust 
rocked her, a jolt of energy pressing her into orgasmic spasms.

"YESSS, MAKE ME AAAAGGGHHH!" Her convulsions rocked through her again 
and again. Her breasts swung wildly, the sensational feeling simply 
lifting her to her tip toes. Heather was moaning herself. 

Below the woman looking up simply shook her head and entered the 
building.

====

Warmth poured down from the sun, seeping into the pores of Jorge's 
skin.

Jorge was by the pool side. He had caught up with the Institute man
at the train station. The man came to this hotel and settled in. So
Jorge was staying here too.

This hotel was something of a resort. The tennis courts and golf
course were substantial. The pro shops advertised lessons on signs in
the lobby. There were three restaurants and a nightclub. Jorge noted
the number of attractive young women wandering around, most of them
seemed unattached. 

Jorge had kept an eye on the man with the mind shield. He was
discovering for himself the worst part of following someone. Never
before had he been forced to wait on someone he already located. He
was bored waiting for his subject to actually move on. So he enlisted
a little help.

The hotel staff was soon set up to let him know if the man did
anything. Jorge would be able to relax and to enjoy the hotel
services. The services he ignored so far were those of the lovely
bikini clad college students staying poolside. This was something he
could correct.

Jorge smiled to himself. All these goodies, and time to play too. 

A very attractive brunette was practicing her dives from the high 
board.. He'd been watching her for a little while. Her athletic body 
was muscular, her tan simply spectacular. Jorge enjoyed the midair 
spins, flips, and summersaults she executed.

He watched as she brushed aside two young men, separately. They
couldn't draw her attention away from diving. She seemed to be mostly
interested in getting a two and a half flip perfected. The young men
seemed rather upset before moving on to other potential love 
interests.

Jorge gathered his towel and walked over to the lithe athlete. 

"Hello, my name is Jorge."

"Good for you, Jorge. I'm busy. Beat it." Her breasts weren't quite as
small as they looked from a distance. He looked at her puppy brown
eyes, the flush of exertion had made her cheeks a little red. It
couldn't be the sun.

"Come to the bar in five minutes. Look for me there."

"What? uh, oh." Jorge saw his controls sink in. She started for her 
towel. It would take more than five minutes for her to change. But he 
didn't mind. He went off to his room for clothing.

====

Bob dropped his garment bag on the bed. The flight was reasonably 
quick, he'd bumped some first class passenger for the trip. He had 
decided he needed the comfort this time.

The hotel he'd found was adequate for his purposes. The room
contained a king size bed, the rooms to either side empty. They would
stay empty too, the manager took care to ensure Bob's privacy for him.

He was a little displeased with the arrangements. Bambi had done the
best she could, but he couldn't reach Charles. Mostly he was unhappy 
he was the only one who knew about the tragic turn of events in 
Harlem.

Charles should know about the damaged minister he found. The police
would never find anyone responsible. To them it looked like another
man gone insane in an insane place. Only Bob and the mysterious
female visitor knew different.

Now, outside of Denver, all Bob could do was worry about what Jorge
had found. The mountains loomed in the distance. His hotel was
supposed to be near the Cabal site Jorge indicated. Bob didn't know,
really didn't care.

A short drive, a long drive, they were the same. Some poor sot would 
lose part of his day driving Bob where he needed to go. 

====

Jorge chose a table near the door.

He checked his watch. It was about 10 minutes before the diver, 
whose name he hadn't gotten, wandered in the bar. She spotted him
immediately and joined him.

Her hair was still wet, but had been combed out down her back to the
sturdy looking shoulder blades. She had full red lips and a stern gaze
over her thin chiseled nose. Her muscular shoulders, doubtlessly
developed from swimming, were now covered by a simple t-shirt. Her 
jeans concealed the lovely legs Jorge had admired from the pool side.

"Hello," he said.

"What do you want," she snapped. But she sat down with him anyway.

Jorge smiled. Then he waved to the waitress, a pert woman in her late 
thirties. The waitress came quickly to the table.

"Bring my friend here," he scanned quickly through her drinking 
tastes, "a Banana Daquiri?"

Stunned at his apparent knowledge of her drinking habits, she simply 
nodded. 

"And I'll have a White Russian." The waitress rushed away as quickly 
as she'd arrived.

"How did you know?" asked the swimmer.

"Does it matter?"

"Damn right it does."

"No, I don't think so," he smiled.

"I'm leaving," she tried to rise. Jorge wasn't going to let her 
though. She made the slightest turn to leave but settled right back 
into her seat.

Jorge smiled. 

As the young woman looked frantically about, the waitress came with 
their drinks. She smiled down on the two of them as she deposited the 
glasses neatly on cardboard coasters, then turned to leave.

"Wait!" The swimmer seemed frantic, "he's forcing me to stay, and I 
want to go."

The waitress turned and looked at Jorge.

"That true, sir?"

"Yes, it is. Now run along and take care of your other customers."

"Yes, sir. Sorry dearie, he is in charge here."

Jorge finished adjusting the waitress as she wandered into the 
kitchen. His new friend was stunned.

"What's your name," he finally asked the stunned brunette.

"Jessica." She tried to remain silent, but the name came out anyway. 
"Jessica Bays."

"Come Jessica." He took a sip of his drink, then pushed it aside.

Standing he took her by the hand, leading her out to the lobby. They
walked past several other people, couples arm in arm, a few luggage
burdened fellows, and into the elevator. When the doors closed they
were alone.

"I've been trying to do this differently." 

She had no idea what he meant. There was no understanding what had 
happened to her. She wanted nothing to do with this man, but found 
herself going and doing as he directed. It was incomprehensible.

They got off the elevator and walked through the hall to his room.
The electronic key opened the lock, and he pulled her in behind him.

"Open the curtains Jessica."

She walked to the windows and pulled at the chain, drawing back thick 
drapes. Sunlight spilled through the room, a large suite. They were in
an entertainment room, TV and couch set up for guests.

"What now? When will you let me go?" She was astounded her voice would
still allow her to verbalize her inner desires.

Jorge took Jessica by the hand and pulled her to him. He lifted her 
chin in one hand and kissed her. She found herself kissing him back, 
not what she wanted to do. She could only watch herself acting without
any resistance.

She shivered as he lifted the t-shirt over her head. Her breasts rose 
in a more shapely manner with the breath she drew sharply in. The 
nipples popped erect, showing their round shapes.

Her hands moved aside for him as he reached for her Jean's snaps. The 
zipper came undone with a loud rip sound. She could feel moistness in 
her groin, and the skin tighten under her bra. She was very aroused 
now, but could not understand any reason for it.

Jorge pushed the jeans down to Jessica's ankles. Without knowing why, 
pushed her sneaks off and stepped out of the legs of her pants. His 
hands worked the eyelets of her bra and soon that was aside too.

"Yes, yes. You should do quite nicely. Turn around for me."

With her panties still on, she raised her hands to behind her neck, 
thrust her chest out and slowly turned in place. She simply kept 
turning, his fingers reached out to touch from time to time, but he 
didn't stop her.

"Good," he smiled. "Very good. Sit down a minute."

She sat on the couch, crossing her legs, but not folding her arms 
across her chest as she would have liked.

Jorge was not thrilled with this, he walked over and pulled her legs 
apart. She sat now, her panties still on, but with her sex exposed as 
he wished..

"I have to make a call. Then we'll play."

He picked up the phone.

====

A small private mansion, stocked to the hilt with mind slaves, proved
to be the local Cabal office.

Bob shook his head as he walked through to the offices. The female
staff was entirely dressed in revealing little outfits leaving nothing
to the imagination, their nipples and crotch fur on display for
everyone. The male staff were outfitted in paramilitary gray
uniforms, carrying weapons.

It was obvious what the priorities were of the local Cabal people. 
Somehow he doubted there were any female Cabal members locally.

When he found no messages from Jorge, he settled into the library to
read while he waited. On occasion he had to fend off women programmed
to go into sexual frenzy for any man who wasn't one of the guards. He
was disturbed by the lack of subtlety, but unhappy taking anyone he
hadn't specifically seized for himself.

After a while, the call came. A blonde in a skimpy leather bodice came
to him with a cordless phone. She stood along side him as he spoke. It
was apparent she strongly aroused by her proximity to him. 

"Hello?"

"Bob? This is Jorge."

"Where the hell are you? I've been waiting for at least two or three 
hours here..."

"The Sanibad Resort. It's fairly close by where you are now."

"Okay, I'll come right over."

"Listen, I followed a man with a shield to this place and I'm
watching for him to leave. He hasn't done anything here."

"So, if you follow him out, leave a note at the desk."

"Yeah, all right. I'm not used to coordinating with anyone, so if we
screw up how do I reach you?"

"Either here or the Brentwood Hotel."

"Right. Um, I haven't been able to reach Charles, how about you?"

"Me either. I'm a little worried. A bunch of people have been trying 
to kill me and I think there's a Cabal member behind it."

"Why is that?"

"One of my leads had his mind erased. I'm pretty sure only a Cabal 
member could manage it. The Institute people aren't so subtle."

"Maybe, but I thought you said Bambi had been programmed pretty slick 
by the Institute?"

"I'm beginning to think the Cabal connection may be behind the 
Institute as well."

Silence came from the hand held phone. Jorge was thinking it over.
When he finally spoke again it was much softer.

"Tell me you don't mean that."

"Huh? Oh, I mean it. Jorge, the people at the Institute used
brainwashed Voices or as they called us, Sparks to adjust people. They
had a big brute of a control machine to do it to sparks. I've since
noticed most of the adjustments by even mildly talented Cabal members
are blunt and unbelievably blatant. Only the better quality ones are
subtle enough to leave controls such as I found in Bambi. I don't see
how it could be any but a handful of Cabal members. I doubt the
Institute has captured anyone so skillful."

The silence came again. In the background, Bob could hear sounds such 
as might be another person moving about in the room with Jorge.

"Oh, shit. I hope you're wrong. I dearly hope you are wrong."

"Oh, shit is right. I'm not making a mistake, Jorge. We need Charles
to help us find this creep, and the sooner the better."

"Yeah, I'll try a few more numbers before I to back out. I'd intended
to have some more fun," a flesh meeting flesh slap was audible
through the earpiece, "but it can wait."

"Good, I'll be there as soon as I can. Bye."

"So long."

Bob pressed the off button and looked up at the waiting woman. She
was panting above him, her hips moving in squeezing motions. The
visible nipples were stiff, her displayed groin seemed visibly wet.

He shook his head and made an adjustment to her immediately. Now,
unless someone else had overheard, only he and Jorge knew what he
suspected.

"Thank you, return the phone."

She walked away. He winced at the crude controls laid over her mind, 
but left them as they were. She still panted as she left.

A car. He'd need another car. This time he would drive himself.

====

Jorge spent a while longer on the phone, but couldn't locate Charles.

To hell with Charles, he thought, and started to play with the nipples
of his new toy, Jessica.

She gasped, a surge of desire spreading outwards from Jorge's touch.

"Get those stupid panties off." Jorge pulled his own clothing off as 
she promptly removed the only remaining article she wore.

Jorge walked around behind her as she stood waiting. The naked woman
was lovely, her shoulders firm and strong, the long dark hair still
wet down her bare back.

He touched her shoulder gently, raising goose bumps along the curves 
there. He pulled back again and touched her elbow. She shuddered, an 
excitement he had triggered but not programmed. She ducked her chin 
down towards her chest.

"You like being touched by men, don't you?"

"No. You seem to excite me, but usually I don't like anyone touching 
me."

He stroked a fingertip along her hips. The way she swayed in response 
showed an interest in his contact. She'd become far more aroused than 
he had adjusted her to be.

His finger reached out for her nose. She tried to lick at it, as 
though it was candy held just beyond her reach. He tried to fathom the
change in her. All he could see was building excitement. A thrill of 
being possessed against her will.

"Ahhh. You want to be forced." Realization came up within him, she had
a deeper desire than he'd explored. Since she realized she was 
permitted no choices, the desire had triggered within her to serve. An
interesting submissive response, only unusual in her resistance up 
until now.

"No. I," she gulped. She knew it was true. Her control was 
relinquished completely, he might not have to do anything more to her 
mind. "I suppose so."

He touched the tip of her right nipple. She tried to lean into him, 
letting out a light moan. Her eyes limply closed, mouth open a 
fraction, the pink of her tongue rested against the tips of her teeth.

As he glided his finger down the length of her rib cage to her tummy, 
she swayed against the light pressure he had exerted. She swallowed, 
and took in a deep breath as he brushed the damp pubic hairs. 

She panted for a moment as he drew away, her eyes closed and her chin 
jutting forward seeking further contact. He reached up and brushed 
across her brow with two fingers this time. She simply waved her head 
after his touch as though trying to shake off a chill.

He put his forefinger to her lips. She kissed it, and he pushed past 
the soft red flesh to feel the tongue beyond. The tongue played along 
the length of his finger with a desire bent to arouse him as well.

Jorge took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. He sat at the 
edge and bent her down to his penis. She quickly understood what he 
wanted. Yet she waited, looking up at his eyes.

"Lick it, suck me off," he spoke with command in his voice.

Her tongue became the central attraction to him as she wrapped it 
about his prick as best she could. Her red lips began to roll back and
forth as she worked him into her mouth. He could feel the dextrous 
tongue trying to circle the tip of his prick. Her eyes locked onto 
what she was doing. Her strong hands started to massage the trunk 
of his cock where she hadn't gotten him into her mouth.

He watched as she began to bob her face in and out of his crotch, 
slipping farther and farther over his manhood with each plunge. He 
swallowed as the heat rose in his scrotum. He grabbed her head and 
pulled her into him, trying to force his way deeper, she struggled to 
help him without choking. Soon he grunted as the semen erupted from 
his prick and into her throat.

She gulped, a dribble of the fluids escaping the edge of her mouth.

"Get on the bed." He watched her scramble up to lie on her back. She 
was very willing to move as he directed now. Manipulating her could
be done, but she knew refusal would only result in her body performing
as commanded.

Jorge touched her curly hairs, feeling the moisture building there. 
She tried to squeeze her groin open and shut when he stopped touching 
her. He smiled at her apparent desire.

"You want something from me, hmm little swimmer?"

"God yes. I don't believe it, but I want you to make love to me."

"I'm already making love to you." He drew his fingers along her legs.
"What more do you want?"

"I want you to," she hesitated. Her face turned pink and she looked to
the side. "I want you to enter me."

"Enter you?" He placed his fingers on the tender flesh of her vaginal 
lips. She almost jumped, gasping and heaving. "Why should I enter 
you?"

"I really need you to, please come inside me." Her voice was pleading,
no longer fearful of what he'd done to control her actions.

"I already came inside you." He grinned, and manipulated the small 
lump of flesh at the top of her groin. She writhed, swinging her head 
about on the bed.

"nooo, I want you," she muttered between the deep groaning sounds...
Her waist was rolling in smooth motions, a rhythm of lust and deep 
arousal.

"Okay." He knelt between her legs. She lifted the curved calves of her
legs up, bending her knees and pulling them up towards her chest. She 
bent her head forward to watch him. Her jaw was open slightly from 
the excitement, but her eyes showed genuine desire, a need to feel the
penetration, to plunge into her sexual pleasure.

Jorge steered himself into her, edging the cock head slowly between 
the lips of her pussy. Once he could feel the grip of surrounding 
tissue, Jorge shoved his prick all the way in.

Jessica gasped, flinging her head back and releasing her legs to wrap 
around Jorge. Jorge held still, embedded deeply within the confines of
the woman's sex. She was still rolling her head about madly. Her hair 
would have swirled all about if it wasn't wet. Jorge could see her 
teeth were tightly clenched although her lips were parted wide, almost
as if she was squelching a painful scream. Her eyes were wide open, 
face tightly clenched as well. The flood of sensations seemed to be 
driving her to an unusual intensity. 

Jorge began pumping into her. He matched the rhythmic motion her hips 
were making. She grunted and moaned each sound bringing out another 
level of urgency. Her desire was driving her on, he could feel the 
heat of passion emanating from her as she began to pull and rub her 
own breasts.

"AIEEEEEE!" Her scream was loud and long. Then she stopped and pumped 
madly against him, grinding her crotch against him from time to time, 
again reaching for a subsequent release. Jorge could feel tightening 
in his groin, a beginning for a release of his own.

"Unnnnngh," a low grunt from Jorge signaled his second orgasm. He 
could feel the sweat dripping from his brow. Jessica was becoming 
frantic as she felt him slow down. 

Jorge reached out with the talent, pulling the nerve endings to force 
her orgasm to hit. 

Jessica screamed. The spasms of sudden pleasure hit her with a solid 
wall. The roiling flesh under Jorge rocked back and forth trying to 
further enhance the sudden burst she'd received.

Then she collapsed, a bundle of limp woman. Wrung out by her sexual 
release, too tired to complete a smile. As she lay there, Jorge pulled
out and stepped to the side of the bed. Her legs reflexively pulled 
closed as she rolled to her side.

"What did you do to me?," she asked when she could work it in between 
panting breaths.

"I had sex with you. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself."

"I've never had sex like that before, and I didn't come up here on 
voluntarily. Oh sure, I really enjoyed it." She paused, taking in a 
deep breath. "But you forced me up here."

"Now how could I possibly force you?" He grinned. "You wanted me to 
bring you here."

"No, I," she looked unsure. "I must have, but I don't think I did."

"Too bad. Now, I have some work to do, my friend should be here soon."
He stood, and started to pull his clothing together. 

"Will you," she started. She looked very sleepy. "That is..."

"Come by this evening," he responded. He felt very drowsy, but pulled 
his pants on without too much trouble.

He noticed she had dropped off into a sound sleep. He smiled and got 
the shirt on too.

As he finished moving the covers over her, he considered going down to
the lobby to wait for Bob. He decided against it. If Bob wanted, he 
could use the girl too while they waited for something to break.

He sat on the couch and relaxed.

====

The grounds were meticulously kept. 

Bob never spent any time at resorts like this. He walked into the
lobby after permitting the valet to take his keys. The small wooden
disk which would permit him to reclaim his wheels was easily slipped
into his pocket.

There was a strange sense to the place. So before he called Jorge, he
sat at the coffee shop in the lobby. Soon, with a cup of coffee, he
sat back to puzzle out what bothered him.

There were an awful lot of young women, some couples. Bob also saw a
fair number of what Betty use to call 'pretty boys'. There didn't
seem to be any number of other kinds of customers. He started looking
for retirees, or vacationing families.

Not spotting any, he reached out to the staff at the registration
desk and scanned them. All of them had come on duty since he'd spoken
with Jorge. It didn't seem right, but perhaps the change of duty was
normal at around three o'clock here. No, these people were called in.
They all received urgent calls to take over for ill staff members.

Bob paid his tab and walked about. He just couldn't believe this was
natural demographics for a resort like this. He started to consider
the idea this was another Institute.

Yet there was no signs of anyone in a mind shield. Everyone he found 
could be scanned quickly, and seemed to be on vacation. The crude 
controls weren't there either. Yet something was wrong.

Bob felt the twinge of fear he had in Harlem creep up on him again.

====

Betty stepped into the airport.

After her, Bambi got off the plane, smiling at the young college boys
that waved to her. She knew they were certain she had just fucked
each of them.

Only she knew the memories were planted by her. She had found the only
good sex she had now was when Bob took control of her. She knew he'd 
let her wander free, but inside she knew. She was decidedly his. Only 
the other women in his harem could substitute, and then only when he 
wasn't around.

Betty waited for her to catch up. At the luggage, a red cap picked up
their things and led them to a waiting taxi. The incident with the
young men had aroused Bambi, so she fingered Betty the whole way to
the hotel. The Taxi driver didn't see anything.

The rooms adjoining Bob's were reserved for them. The luggage put 
aside, Bambi slipped out into the evening air. She had one more job to
perform before she let herself sleep tonight.

Tomorrow, Randi should arrive too. With their contingent of rather 
unique employees.

====

"You are Jones?" The pale faced woman in black snapped the question at
him like a whip. Her voice was deeper than he expected and strongly 
commanding.

Jones had never seen her before, but he knew exactly who she was. He 
wasn't going to do anything to offend her if he could avoid it. She 
looked odd, a harsh face with too much makeup. Her hands were hidden 
beneath a pair of elbow length gloves, the stockings she wore were 
loose and ill fitting. The dark hair made her sinister as well, almost
witch like in appearance.

"Yes," he struggled to maintain his calm. "I am Jones. And you are?"

"Jezabel. You know that. Where is Thadeous? He is supposed to meet
with me."

"I," Jones paused gulping. Thadeous was visiting a new facility. He'd 
be back soon, but if he knew Jezabel was coming he would have stayed. 
"I don't know why he isn't here if, as you say, he knew you were 
coming. Can I get you anything while you wait? He shouldn't be long."

"Fine. You can tell me what our status is while I wait. Have someone 
bring some coffee."

Jones rushed to the door. He called one of the new guards in.
Explaining he didn't want any interruptions and Thadeous was to be
brought directly when he arrived, he also directed someone was to
bring coffee and some sandwiches.

He turned to speak with his visitor. She had taken the most prominent 
seat in the room, pulling her stockings into place and smoothing the 
black dress across her lap. She folded her hands in her lap and fixed 
her gaze on Jones.

"Let's start with what you know about what happened at the
Rehabilitation Clinic, shall we?"

Jones swallowed. He sat down in the chair before her.

"As you wish..." He began to speak, trying to ignore the horrible 
sweet smell of her perfume.

****

[END]

Brian C.. Ladd, Curator, Mindnumbing Archive
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