======== Path: news.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!news.cais.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!nntp.earthlink.net!usenet From: alebeard@earthlink.net (Alebeard) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.bondage Subject: The Book, Repost, Various sm stories - book.txt [06/11] Date: 24 Jun 1996 22:54:23 GMT Organization: Rainbow Lines: 1421 Message-ID: <4qn6av$nek@uruguay.it.earthlink.net> NNTP-Posting-Host: pool041.max2.santa-clara.ca.dynip.alter.net Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: message/partial; id="835656663@Alebeard"; number=6; total=11 X-Newsreader: WinVN 0.99.7 Xref: news.primenet.com alt.sex.stories:165917 alt.sex.stories.bondage:379 come immediately. He watched as she flopped to and fro in her release. She smiled gleefully afterwards, obviously thinking of George. Then he released Robin to her job errands, causing her to remember meeting with George, but forgetting just when. Janet replaced Robin at his crotch. For fun at the end of the flight he made all of the stewardesses come, one by one, as he touched their lips with his forefinger. They all lined up for him as he left. It was a rousing display, not one of them able to remain standing. He had all the other passengers applaud. It had been a very pleasant flight. Not surprisingly, he was the only passenger who remembered the flight. The crew only remembered what he wanted them to, a normal boring flight. The little demonstration of deep control titilated and aroused him. He realized he'd become addicted to the sexual utility of the skill he'd suddenly developed. He realized further how childish and reckless the little act on the plane was.. He started to worry if he was losing control of himself. A possibility which frightened him. ==== Bambi nee Kim sat on a bus. There were always interesting people to read on a bus. She had been fascinated by the other women in Bob's house, amazed she was one of them and didn't resent it. She was uncertain how she'd come around to view him as the center of her universe, but well, there you are. She retained most of her memories, but Harry had faded away into oblivion. She hardly thought of him any more. When she did it was a little like trying to remember a nightmare from last week. If it wasn't recurring, it lost its potentcy. She'd lost a lot of strong opinions too, along with the memory of Harry. She no longer believed she had to be dressed in tight concealing clothing in public. Harry seemed to like the embarrassment it caused to make her wear sexy things outside the house. Overcoming her fear of publicly wearing less conservative clothing had been hard when she went to visit Bob. She probed women far more often now. She'd learned a lot of new things about dressing and make up. More importantly, she'd learned, maybe relearned, she could earn a living herself. She'd gotten a boost out of going back to work. It hadn't lasted long, because Bob showed her she didn't need to work. She had a talent now allowing her to make money in supposedly speculative markets. A little research here, a little there, and in almost no time, she had real estate she could resell at a substantial profit! Now and then she had an urge to take some guy. Just take him, make him, and afterwards let him go with improvements. Occasionally a sense of desire for punishment would seep up. But then a little inner voice would calm her, telling her Harry was dead, and not all men should be like Harry was. She didn't really understand where this voice inside came from, but she felt better afterwards. She knew Bob would take care of her needs. Today she'd read the thoughts of two old ladies. They'd just played Bridge and were thinking about making a 'Grand Slam'. Later she'd snooped on a teenage boy who was watching her. She was tempted to fulfill his fantasy, but she really wanted Bob, not some kid. She planted a memory in the boy of having screwed her, with details he'd never forget. He'd be happy when he got home. Probably try to relive the experience with some other older woman. Now she snaked out thin tendrils to the people on the bus with her. And stifled a gasp. A man behind her wasn't there! Well, maybe he was, but there was no mind to examine. The Institute was the only source of those mind shields! She had to flee before he figured out she was one of their 'sparks'. She didn't want to return to their labs. At the next stop she got off. So did he. She tried wandering into a few stores, but he was always outside when she stepped back out to the street. He knew. He didn't realize she knew about him. The thought made her giddy. So she slipped out the back of the next one. She ran down the alley she found herself in. Finding a man driving by in a sporty red convertible, she stopped him using the talent and got in. She had him drive away quickly. Within a few minutes she probed around her and no longer sensed the deadness of mind shields. She sighed relief. The man drove her home, her new home, and forgot all about it. ==== Bob came home without fanfare. Well, mostly anyway. "Hello, missed ya," Betty stood up against his chest, demanding a kiss. Like a little puppy who'd missed the family. He gave her a small peck on her nose. "Hi. Any calls?" "Janet called, she says she's horny again and Ben isn't cutting the mustard. Wants some 'special' treatment." "Hmm, any others?" "Yes, Fran checked in on schedule. I told her you wouldn't need her this weekend. Is that all right?" "Sure. You can fill in for her." Betty turned red, then looked down at her toes tracing circles on the rug. She decided it was a good idea anyway. Randi was starting to be fun to be with. "As you wish. And some woman named Mary called. Said you knew her number." "Very good." he rewarded her with a deep, loving kiss. Then he carried the garment bag to his room. ==== "Hello Janet." "Bob! I've missed you." Well that would soon change, he thought. Ben didn't deserve the problems with Janet coming over to Bob's so often. A friend was important enough to help out. He carefully planted a little program of symbols to arouse her intensely when with Ben. If all worked out, her interest in him would begin to wane. Problems with Ben were one thing he could avoid easily. They had a quick, and somewhat disappointing fuck. Oh, she enjoyed it, so did he, but he knew she'd begin to see him as a great short term lover, not the one she really wanted. Oh, they'd do it again. But he'd made certain she'd yearn for more sensual activity afterwards, for Ben. Bob hit the road. ==== Bob reached out to Randi and summoned her. He summoned Bambi too. They arrived a few minutes apart, both certain he'd be there, but trying to bring him some little problem to discuss. Settling Bambi into his chair, he stood with Randi and began kissing her. Randi responded immediately, without hesitation. She'd devoted herself to him, believing, trusting completely he would take care of all her needs. He could sense total trust welling within her. He petted her gently. Excited, as she always was with him now, her breath became shorter. She even got this way when he simply used her without giving her release. Often it led to a greater release later, but always she got excited by his touch. Unlike any other man she had ever met. Bambi watched with mild interest as Bob pulled up the house skirt Randi wore and tested her wetness with his fingers. >ungg< came from the brunette. Moans developed from her as he twisted her nipples gently through the blouse. Bambi sat still as possible in his chair, trying to remain comfortable while Bob made use of the other woman. She hadn't been made to watch before, but if he wanted it, she would perform this duty. Then Bob sat Randi down on the couch. He spread her legs and pulled her skirt away from her crotch. Establishing Bambi's view was excellent, he licked and nibbled at the inner thighs Randi offered him. Bambi watched his behavior with interest. His tongue traced the muscles and folds in her crotch. Randi sighed and let her moans slowly fill the room. She moved with rhythmic pulses of her torso. Then Bob stopped. Randi whimpered with desire, a need, a strong need to be satisfied. Bob grinned and went to the package he'd returned from New York with. From the bag he withdrew a twenty-four inch double headed dildo. Randi gasped at the sight. Bambi drew in a deep breath, a little nervous, thinking she knew what Bob had in mind. He oiled the artificial cock and pushed one end into Randi's cunt. It was thicker than Bob's prick, but Randi took it as he slipped it in. "Bambi, take off your blouse and skirt." She complied. Naked except for a garter belt, stockings, and high heels she stood with her magnificent boobs hanging before her. Oh, not hanging real bad, but consider her incredible assets. "This end is for you," Bob waved the other end of the phony prick at her. "What!?" she stared at the woman on the couch. And at the head of the prick she now had to accept from that same woman. She wasn't sure of this idea. She was unsure she could do this. Bob led her over, and had her kneel over Randi on the couch. Randi was salivating openly at the idea of finally being given Bambi. "Oh god, yes!" slipped out between her puffed up red lips. Bob had come through for Randi again. Randi licked the air before Bambi's cunt lips while they wagged before her face. Soon, however, Bob had settled her back, getting Bambi to squat over the prick Randi imagined was hers. Randi took to sucking the big boobs hanging before her now. Bambi, aroused by physical stimulus, more than the situation perhaps, began to feel shivers of excitement run down her spine. Bob forced her onto the synthetic pecker. It was huge. She thought it was splitting her open, although she knew she'd had bigger. She felt as though the other woman was forcing a cock into her. Inching it in, Bob finally had both women attached at the crotch the way he'd wanted. Randi began to hump mildly. The motion of the gigantic false prick caused Bambi to gasp with surprise and sharp pleasure. The depth of the intrusion was incredible and she felt it wanted to creep up and out her throat. Bob formed the mental image of a phallic shaped mind probe and violated Bambi's mind at the same time. She felt his entry almost as if he were entering her pussy. His probe slithered into her and now, she could sense, he was her. He was fucking Randi using her body. He'd taken complete physical control and was letting her watch and feel from the recesses of her own mind. Bob could feel Bambi's tits. And Randi was pinching at one viciously as she bit, really bit, at the other. He could feel the incredible monster cock inside her, and by clenching the muscles of Bambi's cunt, he pushed it into Randi. She was trading the favor for Bambi. He plunged Bambi's tongue into Randi. Bambi felt it and savored the total loss of control. Her pleasures were complete in this activity, her own personal desires subborned into his. Bob owned her and she now liked being his chattel more than anything else. Bob though hadn't pulled out all the stops yet. Although he was operating Bambi a little like a puppet, he still was aroused in his own body. Stripping, he pressed Bambi forward. The rubber cock was bent over, and Bambi was on top of Randi. Now her rectum was exposed. He could feel the tickle in her ass as he rubbed his cock against the little flower of her anus. The girls paused for him while he made his entry to Bambi's second hole. He worked it in, inch at a time. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushed his cock in to the hilt. He was thrilled, he really was fucking both women at the same time. Bambi felt full. The rubber cock bent between her and Randi. She was surprised, but Bob's presence had left, where did he go? Then she saw Randi's eyes pop open. Yes, she thought. Bob is fucking both of us in every possible way. He can violate our most inner sanctum, in every way, we are both totally property, as totally as he can make us. Bob looked up at his own face over Bambi's back. He pulled her lips down to Randi's and engaged in a lip and tongue duel. Bambi tasted very yummy to Randi. The double headed dildo was doing its job. Both women were heavily aroused from the friction of the false phallus. Bob added to their fire by fanning the erotic sensations they felt. He reached for Bambi's tits with Randi's hands. He reached for Randi's tits with Bambi's hands. He pumped his cock up Bambi's tight, tight ass, reaming her out. Bambi came first. Her mind, realizing just how brutally she was being used, not only front and back, but her entire body and mind, was aroused far beyond her norm. She was engaged in kissing Randi when she began to scream. Bob thought it appropriate she had 'come' in Randi's mouth. Randi wasn't far behind. Her body, crushed with the weight of the two bodies above her was feeling flashes of radiant heat pull her into the abyss of orgasm. Bob, last of all, poured his jism into Bambi's ass. The tight ring of muscle squeezed at him, ejecting him as he became limp. The girls remained connected. Bob moved back to his chair. He watched the female forms on his couch come down now. Bambi was somewhat uncomfortable with Randi's proximity. He'd decided everyone would eventually get it on in his house, and she'd best get used to it. "Don't let it out of your cunts." The sex toys on the couch tried to find a way to get comfortable while attached at the hips. They worked their way around and finally each had a head on an arm of the couch. Their crotches remained together, actually a few inches apart, and their legs were intertwined. Bob thought for a time. The women became slightly restless but obedient to his instructions. A contest of sexual frenzy, Bob thought. "Okay, Let's see which of you can make the other come first." Both women looked over at him. Randi was thanking him with her eyes. Bambi was confused, not having expected this situation to arise. She was enjoying herself, but felt a nagging censor at the back of her head. Bob remembered full well she'd believed girl/girl sex was a bad thing, but he also knew it for a 'Harry' planted idea, not really her own view. Randi immediately began to hump her groin against Bambi's, pressing their mutual cocks deeper. This was poor strategy, since she also was stimulating her own genitalia. Bambi fondled Randi's nipples, bringing about a gasp from her, um, competition. She pulled and pinched, using her own talent to find the other woman's weaknesses. To Bob's surprise, Bambi swept out a control probe to Randi, which he swept aside in a hurry. She'd realized she could use her talent to win this contest. Bob smiled to himself, tempted to let her do so. It would serve the little cunt to get used by another woman, instead of the other way around. "No Bambi. I don't want you to play that way today," he said. "Maybe later." Randi worked her thumb against Bambi's clit. Bambi couldn't stop from letting out a moan. Randi tried to pull one of Bambi's large boobs within sucking reach. She couldn't quite from the position they were in, but a violent yank on the nipple reached one of Bambi's weaknesses. She thrilled in the pain shooting through her tit. She was now bucking far more violently against the rubber dick between them. Bambi's breath was almost a visible moist movement. Her cunt was twitching, and Bob watched the heat rising in her. Randi too was excited. Her lust at having Bambi had her nerve endings enflamed. It also helped to have Bambi's hands all over her. She panted rapidly, while seeking a further way to force Bambi to come first. "I, I, I can't, uh, can't..." Bambi was rubbing Randi's bump of clitoral flesh with a thumb now, but muttering about difficulty of contact. Randi almost going over herself, began to crush Bambi's little clitoris bundle. "AAAAIIIIEEEEE!" screamed Bambi, threshing against the bruising treatment she was receiving. The lightning flash of orgasmic energy jolted her about. "GODDDDAMNIT YES!" followed the screech from Randi just moments later. The two women bucked against each other's crotch while keeping their hands in place, manipulating the sex they each held. They eased back in slow motion, resting their sweat covered heads. Their hair pointed in places from the dripping sweat. Flushed pink from the exertion, neither had their eyes open. Bob got a blanket and covered them. They remained nestled together, still inside each other by virtue of an artificial organ. Every now and then one of them would kiss the other's leg or foot. Bob just went back to reading. ==== Betty was at the grocery store with Bambi. Bob had told her to pick out a woman for him to screw tonight. Bambi would make sure the choice came along. She was to give the choice to him as a 'gift' to show her obedience. Betty felt completely humiliated. The embarrassment had kept her panties dripping since they left the house. The worst part was knowing he'd take the woman she chose, making Betty watch. Thinking that, she had to struggle not to finger herself. She had been directed not to orgasm until Bob said so. She spotted a nice looking woman, about 32 by the fruit. Betty had already discarded four other possible choices when she saw this one. The woman was about 5'8" and was shapely. Her eyebrows were little arches over deep brown eyes. Her nose was long, leading down to a soft red pair of lips. Her hair was in a short pony tail, a dark blonde. Betty realized she didn't want this woman to make love with Bob. He would enjoy such a choice. She suppressed her own will for his. She pointed the woman out to Bambi. The three of them left together. ==== The man looked at the note he'd just received. TARGET OBSERVED DOWNTOWN. TARGET MISPLACED. ADDING MANPOWER TO SECTOR. REQUEST HIGHER PRIORITY AREA SCANS IN SECTOR. JONES He scrawled "OK' and his initials. After a moment he added the word "Maximum" after the OK. He set it aside for operations. He picked up another report on his desk. Tyler was programmed and ready to be turned over to Jezabel. Tyler would know he was being punished, but he could no longer do anything about it. Among other reports on political supporters, financial problems, manpower requirements, and security background checks, there was data from the airport. Some problem with a scanner, a freakish misreading or such. He set it aside, unwilling for now to decide, how to investigate the report. He brushed his sleeve, straightening the creases. _Censorship_ Many mind shields moved about in the neighborhood. Bob could feel the mentally dead spots all over. At least a dozen he could sense immediately. Bob wasn't sure how they'd narrowed down the search to here, but the reality was, they were here. Guessing at what could happen, and hopeful the hunters would leave the women alone, he'd written a note. It said he'd be gone a week or two, they should keep the household in good order for his return. He planted suggestions in their sleeping minds to keep them content together waiting for him. No matter how long it took. There were at least six hunters out back. He figured there were another three or four on either side of the house. And out front... A movie style CIA staff car look alike stopped in front. Two more pulled up on either side of it. Several more of the nearly invisible unreadable men got out of the dark boxy cars. They gathered, one man, in a perfectly pressed suit swept his arms right and left. They parted like the sea before Moses. The man with an unruffled G-man look started up the walk. He flowed along in a smooth, unbroken motion, headed straight for Bob's sanctuary. His nightmares come to life, he was surprised there weren't any guns. There didn't appear to be any way out. He could only guess what would happen to him. It didn't seem likely they'd walk up and say, 'Nice to see you're telepathic. Good going kid. Keep up the good work,' then leave. The doorbell rang. Well, it did a silly four note thing, more like chimes. Only a week ago he'd thought it cute when he bought it. He glared at the little box on the wall until it chimed again. Well, he thought, time to brace up and face the devil. He opened the door at a normal pace to avoid startling the unusual visitor. He was rewarded with no overtly hostile reaction. "Hello." The man wore a perfectly pressed suit, a red silk tie, and black shoes, just recently polished. His crew cut made the roundness of his features stick out. Wrinkles, chicken tracks, around the eyes placed him around 40-43 as near Bob could figure. "Hi Bob. I'd like a chance to chat with you. May I come in?" The man didn't bother to introduce himself.. "I don't see how I could stop you with all the manpower you brought." The man chuckled, but didn't look over his shoulders for support. Perfectly cool, he stepped into the house. Bob led him to the living room. "Well, this is a nice change.. Your original furniture I gather." the man said. "Very unusual, most sparks just take what they like from mutes. Males often end up with poorly decorated domiciles. Very strange affect, I'm not certain how to describe it. Kind of like late american junk yard." "I see." said Bob. "Yup. You know we caught on to you very fast. Most sparks go two, maybe three years before we find them. You wanna know how we found you?," he paused, pulling a pack of cigarettes out. He went on before Bob could form a reply, "the girl. Oh, not the harem girls you've picked up, eh? That really is the best part of being a spark I guess, the broads. Anyway, what was I saying? Right, the girl." The man stabbed his thumb at his own chest. "Our girl, the one we let loose. We lost her for a while when you got to her, but you screwed up. You know how we found her? Give it a guess." Bob walked over to the window, peeking at the carefully deployed men meandering around outside. His guest didn't mind. A cigarette lighter came out and was ignited. "Please don't smoke," Bob said. There was no way to stop the man, but the fellow looked at his cigarette and put it away. "I've no idea what you're talking about." The man laughed. "Forget the bullshit. You've been plowing Kim and the two other women you got living here regular as rain. You can do this because you pull their strings. You also plow about three other women a week. Some of them Kim brings to you for your leisure. "The amazing thing is you ain't been stealing stuff too. We usually catch the sparks by looking for swiped property, but you... You've been careful to earn the money and buy what you want. "No, you know what I'm talking about. Kim gave you away. Not on purpose, but almost as if she put a red siren light on top of your head." Bob resigned himself to being 'found'. He breathed a deep sigh, trying to figure the angles. Nothing this guy had said mattered much yet, sort of complementary. Sort of. Almost admiring, but hostile at the same time. "Okay, but why bother to talk to me about it? Why not just grab me like you seem to do with the other, what do you call us?, Sparks?" The man shuffled over to the window for a moment. Bob couldn't sense it, but he guessed it was to let the men outside see he was still well. The man took in a deep breath, and sighed, almost resigned too. "I've been remiss. My name is Jones, Dirk Jones," the man clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "You, despite our advantage in organization, are very unusual. "You see, we've been picking up the snatch you throw back to analyze what you do. Oddly, we can't find any sign of your meddling, unlike all most sparks. "Most of the other sparks tend to go mad. I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's see. "The men believe they've become God. They take the power they have and start using it on the mortals around them. Women, men, it's essentially the same MO. It's just a matter of time before we track them down and catch them. Usually, when they find out there's someone they have no power over, their marbles go rolling on the floor. "Some get lonely, because they think nobody else like them exists. This brings on a different kind of madness. It has the same net affect. You watch them looking for their shooters on the floor. "The women, they're a different story. Depends on what they want. A tiny fraction grab men or women for themselves and play. Them we can catch quickly since they tend to be like the looney men. Some of them just use it to manipulate people they know. Easy enough to find once you see a pattern. Some women just want things and end up discovered by our financial detectives. Some try running around trying to do good deeds," he laughed, "this brings us back to the god complex and we can catch them. "What we can't do is keep 'em. Most of them go around the bend faster than shit through a goose. Kim's Harry for instance, managed to do himself in. You've been different though. "You seem pretty stable. You came up with a plan to become economically solvent, without creating a statistical anomaly in the crime data. Somehow you don't leave a wide programming trail on the women you've used, a more delicate touch, if you will. You kept your own home and carefully concealed your new wealth. "You only forgot a couple things." Bob sat in the lounge chair. He looked up at Jones's face. He was just a little curious. "Which were?" "You let the girl, Kim, remember her? You let her go buy and sell things, big things like property with houses, in her own name." "Ohhhh." Bob saw the stupidity. They couldn't miss records showing any kind of detail, she'd had to use a real address too. How could he overlook so simple an error? "So what now, again why talk to me?" "Don't feel too bad. The airport jingle would've put us on to you in another couple months anyway," came a consoling tone. Jones was sweating just a little. "Airport jingle? What happened at the airport?" "You took a trip. We take pictures of everyone going through [END] Brian C. Ladd, Curator, Mindnumbing Archive MNA is *not* affiliated with the University of North Carolina; it is a personal project which the University will neither acknowledge nor condone. Let your Congress critters know you vote and you oppose their heavy-handed attempts to stiffle free expression on-line. ======== ============================================================================= Mindnumbing Archive Repost ============================================================================= <V-CHIP RATING=ADULT> The following is eroitc in nature. If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction, stop reading now. If you are easily offended, please stop reading now. <SOAPBOX> If you are offended by the government telling you what you can and cannot view on the Internet and other electronic media, protest! 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] security. When you went through, our scanners acted up. We wouldn't have actually checked on you for a few more months yet, but we always follow through, even on the little stuff." "Shit, so what do you want?" "We're a big organization. There's always room for one more. But we can't let a dangerous threat like some random spark run around loose without some strings." "And you propose...?" "I'd like you to come to the Institute. See our facilities. You can bring the harem with you, we don't care. You can even collect more if you want, we'll even help. There any popular actresses you want? That reminds me, where are your little marionettes?" "The women are asleep.. When I knew you guys were out there, I had them lay down and made them sleep. I figured they might panic." "Smart. Jesus Christ man, you make the other sparks look careless," he appraised Bob again. "As I was saying, you come work for us, we'll cater to your whims. All we want is a little help with our research, and maybe help watching some people." And probably they wanted him off the street. The watching people thing bothered Bob. Oh boy, thought Bob, gotta watch those enemies of the state. Hell, it might not even be the state, it might just be the enemies of the Institute. Well, the guy may be sincere. No way to tell with his shield in place. I hope so, cause there's no way out of this mess for now. "You aren't going to let me sleep on it, are you?" "Not exactly son, no. Would you if you were in my shoes?" "What then?" "Come see the facilities. You may feel a lot better about joining the team, our team." Jones was pitching. Bob didn't like it. "I don't have much choice." "You do, but the other choice is more painful..." ==== Two women and a man were in a room with a large bed. The bed was huge, designed perhaps to hold four or five people at once. Around the bed, in the shadows, were about a dozen chairs. The chairs all faced the bed. The two women were asleep across the bed, but would wake in a few minutes. A uniformed messenger stepped into the room carrying a sheet of paper. He walked over to the man. He tried to hand the sheet to the man.. "Never mind, what does it say?" "Sir. The spark is coming willingly. The women don't seem to know anything is out of the ordinary and the household hasn't been disrupted yet. Jones says he's leaving the women alone for now." "Very good. Let me know after attitude modification." "Yes sir." The messenger left, making a sharp turn, clicking his heels as he marched. ==== They were escorted by two other cars. The drive was pleasant but long. Bob thought they were either waiting for him to try something, or trying to conceal the route they took from him. While they rode, Jones told him about the Institute. The Institute was over sixty years old now. The original founders had been measuring brain activity secretly on an Army grant. Some rich philantropist donated enough money to see they kept operating when the congress cut them off. The Institute had grown over the years. They had their fingers in a lot of pies. Several investments had paid off, and now they were an entirely independent operation. Originally they were trying to ferret out spies with the mind scanner they developed. They'd figured out how to scan, and what to do to block scanning. But they couldn't seem to get a good handle on implanting changes. Kim had been an experiment, according to Jones. He claimed she was socially disfunctional, so they had to try something. Bob figured there was a lot more history they weren't telling. Bob bided his time. ==== The man watched from the dark recesses of the room. The women couldn't possibly know he was there. He liked having some control over what the performance would be. If he wanted, with their current programming, he could feel them up, and they'd never know he'd done it.. His smile was a wee bit wicked at the thought. It was difficult, probably the most expensive process for the Institute. But he insisted it be done. These two women had never met before. They were due to wake up soon. The one with the fiery red hair had a nasty tempter and a mean streak. At least around men. This was Heather. Heather wore sweats. She almost looked ready to go jogging. Her sneakers were the finest available. The sweats didn't reveal much. Her height was 5'7" and he knew her to be 36-24-34 in build. Couldn't tell the measurements from here though. Her face was pale, with the carrot red lips some redheads end up with. Her eyelashes were turning white and accented the angry green eyes she wielded like weapons. He knew from her records, she had been collecting female slaves when she'd been caught. A regular bevy of Amazons mostly, but with a few very feminine, delicate looking women too. He found in the psych report she couldn't go long without sex. They'd kept her a week without it, he knew this too. The other woman was brunette. Her lips a dark red, the eyebrows accenting downward towards her nose, which was long and narrow to just above her lips. Her hair curled in spirals to the shoulders which were rounded down her arms. This one also wore sweats, but they couldn't conceal her larger bust. The nipples showed through from the strain against the fabric. She was 5' even, so the redhead towered over her. She still seemed as if half her height was legs. This one, named Jean, was picked up in a shopping spree. Amazing how little she'd actually spent acquiring all the goodies she'd garnered. 'Born to Shop' was emblazoned on a bumper sticker of the car she'd been driving. It was a sporty red model, no license plate. They'd known where to look for her from the series of police reports on the car which were canceled moments later by the officers making the reports. It was suspicious when the 6th or 7th report came over the radio. Her psych report indicated she was uninterested in sex. Well, not totally, but she'd been much more interested in collecting things from the stores. She hadn't a boyfriend in over 2 years. And she had no interest in women at all. They had been let into the room and allowed to meet each other. The observer was curious what would happen. There hadn't yet been any experiments with two telepaths likely to be confrontational. This was something he wanted to see. He'd tried very hard to make this confrontational. The brunette began to wake up first. She looked around, finding herself on the bed. Another restraint they programmed was an inability to get off the bed. She struggled clumsily to get her feet, but the best she could do was stand up on the bed. She saw the sleeping red head. Jean shook the red head awake. There was a moment of confusion. ==== They pulled up to an isolated mansion. The gabled windows above towered over a carefully manicured yard, the yard as large as a couple football fields. Bob saw two functional fountains. The building rose four stories and was covered with clinging vines. There were bushes all around. In isolated clumps around the building, there were men and women being escorted by nurses. The sign over the door read _Biltmor Rehabilitation Institute_. "Isn't the real name, you know, but it looks better when the state investigates us. They have a bad habit of doing stuff like that." Jones led him through the large oak double doors. They went through a large ornate entry hall, and down a long length of corridor to the left. Bob imagined the eyes on all the portraits in hall were following them. Too many old movies and mystery novels. ==== Peters was considered a little odd by the standards of the other techs. He remembered vividly the day he attacked the tart with the huge hooters. He'd really enjoyed the experience. Everyone told him it was her fault. But beating her wildly while screwing her was the best sex he could remember having. Now, whenever possible, he would slip into one of the observation rooms when one of the sparks was permitted their women. Today he entered a dark room, well mostly dark. There was one lit wall. It was a window wall, all glass. On the other side of the glass was a comfortable looking room, King size bed, dresser, arm chairs, a wall of books with a TV in the middle. A phone was on the wall next to the door in the lit room. In one of the chairs was a young man, age indeterminant, Peters guessed 26 or 27. He was reading a book, Bob couldn't see what the book was. He looked over the empty plush seating in the room. Looking over the log sheets he saw the patient, a spark, in the next room was actually 19. Psychiatric appraisal was this one would soon flip out, the well known Diety complex everyone talked about. They'd caught him a month before in a strip joint. He was systematically beating the talent show girls. And they were showing all the signs of really liking it. One or two, they wouldn't have suspected he was a spark. Six he'd only just met was too much. "Send one of them in." he spoke into the intercom. Then he took his seat, front row, center. "Yessir!" a static voice shouted back at him. He flipped another switch. Every sound in the other room became audible. The other side of the glass wall was mirror. The sparks knew they were being watched, but the one way mirror arrangement let them pretend they had privacy. The page flip in the other room was very clear to Peters's ears, then came the sound of a bolt being withdrawn. The door inside the lit room opened. A radiant blonde, bright gold hair, stepped into the room. The door latched and bolt slammed behind her. "Hello Gabriella." Jimmy said. The girl had to be in her early 30s. She was lovely to behold. The blonde hair was only part of it. She was slender, wearing a sleeveless white cotton dress doing nothing to conceal the soft plush tits she thrust before her, now that she saw her master. Her legs were generous in length, giving the illusion she was half legs. Four inch high heels helped in this impression. Her naked arms were smooth looking, clear skin. Her fingernails tipped her fingers in a soft red. Peters could make out her eyes. They were blue, but somehow lacked a person behind them. She was mechanical in her motions, silky perhaps, but he could make out a slight jerkiness to her movements. She had high cheeks, a slender chiseled nose, and her lips were thin, but moist, as if begging for kisses. Peters looked at Jones, who appeared to be doing an inventory of his pockets. He looked back to watch the two in captivity. "Oh Jimmy, I've longed for you!" Gabriella spoke. He saw her move forward to about six feet in front of Jimmy and stop. She posed for his appraisal. "Jimmy? maybe you're forgetting something." "My Lord!, oh I'm sorry My Lord, please forgive me." The girl's cheeks were becoming damp. "Well, just for that you better strip down for me." "OH! thank you, thank you." She reached both arms around back to pull down the zipper of her dress. This made her boobs jut farther forward. Peters could make out her nipples. The gauges above the wall swung, shifting very fast. Peters knew the spark was reinforcing his control over her. The telepathy suppression fields would protect Peters though. Jimmy immediately stood, reached out and pinched her nipples a bit violently. She gasped loudly but kept her hands reaching to the fastenings in the back. Peters was frustrated by the wall between them. He would like to savor giving the pain/pleasure she felt. Take and enjoy her. Peters's cock had gotten hard. He pulled out a rag he'd brought and began to use it to masturbate. Her dressed was shrugged off of her shoulders, and only Jimmy's abusing fingers held it against her bust now. She was struggling to remain standing, enraptured by the touch, filled with delight. Jimmy let the dress fall. She wore no underwear at all. Her tits were tanned, from weeks of sitting in the sun or under a sun lamp, no lines at all from a bathing suit or bra. The nipples stood out hard and pink from Jimmy's use. They were large nipples, smaller but shaped not unlike nipples on an old style baby bottle. Swollen, and raw from use, she was clearly thrilled at the activity. She stepped her feet over the dress and resumed a pose. Her ankles turned just so, a series of pleasant little curves. Peters loved their appearance. Jimmy walked around her, tracing lines on her skin. He would stop and hit her with his open palm on her bottom, stomach, tits, or legs from time to time. As he went, the blows became harder, the sounds of the slaps much louder. Her tongue snaked out, possibly from joy, each time the stinging smack resounded in the room. Red hand prints covered the visible parts of her anatomy Jimmy had gotten to. Her panting was deeper with each stroke she received. "Good cunt." he said. She beamed as the praise was understood. He sat her down at the edge of the bed and took off his clothes. Her head drooped to her chest. Gabriella was highly aroused, it was hard to miss it. The stinging pain titilated her, bringing desire from her inner self. She was trying to snaked her torso back and forth to grind her hips. She rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder with her chin on her collar bone. The moaning was only just audible. Jimmy grabbed a fistfull of her hair. He pulled her head up and forward into his crotch. The ripe red lips opened quickly and engulfed his now rigid prick. She allowed him to control his rape of her face, pulling and pushing her head with the handful of hair. Peters could hear Jimmy's grunting as he forced himself further down the girl's throat. A catch in the man's breath, a gasp, a wheeze perhaps, and he pulled out, spraying the white fluid onto her face. She gasped for breath. Choking and coughing her recovery. Dripping liquid, at the tip of her nose. She began to play with herself. Jimmy was now completely unconcerned about what she did. She lifted her legs up to place her ankles by her head. Reaching a hand under and around one leg she supported her back. She played with her cunt with the other hand. Her arms and shoulders were inside her knees. She seemed to think it important she see exactly what she touched. She was partly doubled up, shoving her fingers between the swollen lips of her slit. Far more impressive than Jimmy's orgasm was the way her muscles strained to bring about heightened response. Her face contorted through a series of expressions, each an erotic step above the previous one. Peters was intent on her face now. Tears came from the corners of her eyes, and one hot steamy 'yes' was followed by another. She was tight with muscular exertion, and sweat was making her entire body glisten. As she got closer to orgasm, she could no longer watch her fingers rubbing the swollen bit of flesh between her legs. She rocked her head back, muttering about needing to come. She kept advancing higher on the sexual plain, without making it yet. Jimmy sat up and smirked. He'd recovered from his treat, and was watching her with greedy anticipation. As if he knew she was trapped at the edge of her release. "You wanna come cunt?" "Oh Lord, I pray you let me come soon, I need it so badly. I've not come in two days now, and you know my needs. God please, oh please may I come?" She continued to frantically masturbate. Her frenzied efforts were putting her well into the ecstasy she sought. It was the final jolt she seemed shy of. "You may come now cunt." Jimmy almost blessed her. Peters could imagine Jimmy making a cross motion to do so. She leaned her head forward towards her slit again, as to watch. Then suddenly she straightened out completely, screaming at the top of her lungs. Peters could hear it through the glass. The speaker, perhaps the microphones couldn't quite take it, had cut out until she finished. They cut out several times over the next five minutes. He came in the rag he was using. Jimmy seemed pleased, starting to play with her nipples again, squeezing them in his fists. She had an exhausted aftershock, face wrenched into another expression of ecstasy. Peters turned off the monitor. He marked the observation sheet up with no real new remarks. He glanced at the couple in the other room as he left. Jimmy was making the girl bow to the mirror, to Peters. ==== "Sit down please," Jones directed. Bob relaxed in a chair in the middle of what seemed to be Jones's office. The chair was perfectly situated in front of the desk Jones sat at. "There is one little detail we need to accomplish." said Jones. "What's that?" "There is a tiny matter of loyalty. We need to know we can trust you." Trust goes two ways, Bob thought, but if you wanted trust you never would have approached my house the way you did. He didn't like something about this discussion. "And just how do you intend to find out?" "Oh, we have a way of ensuring it." and punched a button on his desk. A pressure drove at Bob's mind from above. Looking up he could now see an opening above, with a small dish antennae pointing at him. He was too busy with the symbols to get up from the chair. The transmitter above was driving one symbol at him, and one symbol alone, 'Obey'. It was a harsh, highly powered command he was loathe to accept, especially here. The energy slammed at his skull blithely shoving his cover persona aside. The bolt smacked into the shield he'd developed, and pushed him back behind that same barrier. There was no human source he to reach this time, unlike his experience with Bambi. No one to shut off, no simple way to retain his freedom. He was fighting a machine, with far more energy than he could draw on. He became quite frantic. Sweat seeped up through the roots of his hair, and a few drops fell from his eyebrows. He felt his vision become blurred. The beam was winning. Soon he would not be the same person he was when he came in this room. Instead of fighting the beam, he reasoned, perhaps he could draw on it. He began to take some of the energy from the charged command and build it into a cup like shield between him and it. This cut the pressure sharply. Some of the energy he pulled aside and looking at Jones, he saw another use. He poured it into a probe to break through the mind shield Jones wore. A visible light show commenced in a ball shape around Jones, who looked quite startled. Jones frantically pressed another button. The ball shape wasn't as round as Bob thought. He started to explore the shield's actual limits. The thing was more donut shaped than the ball shape he originally perceived. The shield collapsed in at the top and bottom, leading towards the device behind Jones ears. The abrupt discovery was of little use though. At that moment a pair of men with pistols burst into the room. One had a hypodermic and jabbed Bob. Moments later there was a wild hue of red over Bob's vision and everything faded to a gray haze. ==== The two women checked out their status. It was a few minutes before one of them threw a sneaker, proving the barrier only fenced them onto the bed. The red head was also checking out the brunette. "What's your name?" she asked, "I'm Heather." "Jean. How long have the goons kept you locked up?" "I've lost track. Must be about three or four months." "They picked me up a year ago. They prod and poke at me, but I think they're into some kind of psychological mumbo jumbo." "You do the mind reading stuff?" "Yes, you?" "Sure thing. Your the first person I've met here without those brain caps they wear. Well, the first they didn't pick up with me." "Huh?" said Jean. "Well, I had some girl friends they snatched too, because I, er, influenced them." "I haven't seen anyone other than jerks in white coats. Waitaminute, no, I also had some guy try to make a pass at me, once in my 'cell'." "Ha! Damn men think they know everything. I can see right through them now, and they know it." "Don't you like men?" "Not really, I like pretty girls. Like you." "Well you can just stay away from me. I don't like women, even though I ain't too particular about men either." The red head was now stroking Jean's hair gently. She was interested enough, probably horny as all hell. Jean brushed her hand away sharply. "Seriously. Leave me be." The lesbian vixen was now concentrating very hard. Suddenly so was the brunette shopper. There was a strong momentary intensity. Later, the observer would learn the scanning apparatus used for this experiment was registering enormous flares of activity. It only lasted a few moments. "You're so lovely, I could eat you right up," were the next words Jean uttered. ==== "hsst!" There was a raging rock fall at the back of his head. Every time he moved another boulder came down on the back of his skull. "hssst!" Goddamn, that noise was really annoying. How the fuck did he get a hangover? Then he remembered. He was at the Institute. It was obvious they wouldn't just let him go. Bambi's escape had been a phony, so he had no reason to believe getting away would be easy. "hssst!" He pried open one of his eyes. There was a woman in the room with him. She was trying to get his attention. The room was some kind of hospital room. There were gurneys near by, and damn if Bob wasn't tied to one. So he looked back at the woman, realizing she was tied down too. "do you know how the 'hunters' caught you?" she whispered. He tried to reach out with a mind probe, only to catch another heavy boulder at the back of his head. Then he noticed the woman had some kind of wire netting over her head. He probably had the same thing. A restraint for the rebellious telepath. Groan. The mind shields were bad enough. They seemed to have other measures at their disposal to control their pet telepaths. "They came to my house," whispered back, "and invited me to buy a condo here. I was dumb not to try getting away sooner." "You seem familiar." "I recognize you too. Where?" "Hey, were you the guy warning me a while back?" "Could be. I did warn.." but he trailed off as footsteps came their way. He feigned sleep. The gurney was being moved. He had to try again at escaping, but when? His entire body felt sluggish and he was tied down to boot. What could he do? ==== Jean reached over and caressed Heather's hair. She'd changed from hardened resistance to active participation so quickly, the observer hoped the cameras weren't having troubles. They so often did. Heather in turn began to touch Jean's face. The two women gazed longingly at each other for long minutes. Then Heather leant forward, planting a gentle, closed eyes, kiss on the lips of the other woman. The kiss was as soft as a butterfly. Their tongues remained behind on this first kiss. Heather was taking Jean. In a very real sense, she had already taken her and was now making her. Jean's eyes were slipping into ecstatic movements, taking in every inch of her new lover. The two moved together and began deeper, more passionate kisses. Their tongues dueled for dominance between their teeth, their heads rotated as they ground their faces. After a lengthy, rolling, necking session, Heather began to feel Jean's bottom. Visible now very clearly, her ass was a tight bundle of flesh. There was a sudden series of movements as Heather yanked the sweat pants clear of Jean's waist and ass. The naked skin was smooth and pale. Neither woman had been in the sun for some time. Heather could clearly make out the smoothness of the soft derriere. At silky touch along the outer thighs brought a sigh of joy from the brunette. The red head moved her palm along the skin, sliding it around to the exposed maidenhood. "Oh yes!," came a gasp from Jean. A few moments of feeling up the wet crotch, and the red head stopped. "Undress for me darling." whispered Heather, who began to strip herself. Heather's pale body was quickly exposed to the light. Her brightly red nipples on her firm knockers were large and erect. Her legs showed their slender shapes, almost perfectly designed to be spread for access to her cunt. The curve of her waistline was so supple, her own hands traced along it in pleasant arousal. Jean anxiously drew off her clothing, depositing the sweats where they were within easy reach. Her breasts were large yet firm also with smaller nipples than Heather's. Her tummy seemed very tight, pulling in along the ribs above the diaphragm. The bushy pussy was an irregular triangle in her crotch between her torso and her slightly too long legs. They dove back into each others arms, lips embracing wetly. Their breasts rubbed together, nipples already erect, cushioning their movements. The four legs curled about one another in a continual struggle to pull the two groins tighter together. After wrestling hotly for a length, Heather pulled back and began to work her way down Jean's neck to her bosom. She sucked at the nipples and nibbled lightly at the undersides of the breasts. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," became a constant stream from Jean. Her hips were working in waves up from the bed. She worked up a good sweat before Heather stopped. Then Jean began to work on Heather. She chewed lightly on the neck of the other woman, who craned about in response. The moaning from the bed became substantial. She dropped along the shoulders, spending little kisses of tenderness along the arm, then under. She spent a brief moment suckling at the nipples of Heather's breast, then worked her way down to the thin red-white hairs of the crotch. Heather lifted her legs onto Jeans back. Jean slid her tongue into the offered love hole. Her probing tongue fought into the vagina as far as she could manage. She worked her right arm around Heather's hips to bring her fingers to bear just past her nose, at the protruding clit. Heather was bucking furiously. Her right hand plunged the forefinger knuckles into her own mouth, clamping her teeth down tight. The left was pinching and pulling madly at the nipple on her left tit. Jean snaked the free left hand to Heather's other tit and began to pinch the swollen red nipple between her fingers, using her thumb to squeeze the whole tit gently. Heather's hair tossled back and forth as her head wagged from side to side. "Goddamn, Goddamn, suck me, suck me. YES! get that tongue deeper." she demanded. The brunette strove to drive her tongue further in, possibly succeeding in pushing her chin into part of the cleft. She made a frenzied attempt to increase the stimulation to the clitoris, pinching it with her forefinger and thumb. "YES!" screamed Heather. The untamed orgasm came pouring out of her in every possible tone she could make. Jean lapped up the juices leaking from her cunt. "YES!" screamed Heather. Comming a second time, hot on the heels of the first. Her body slammed up against Jean and down against the bed. "YES!" screamed Heather. Third time as wildly as the first, legs straight in the air, hands clenched into angry red fists, arms bent tightly across her chest. "aaaaaahhhh," came a final notes moan from the sexually spent woman. Jean sat up and looked carefully at Heather's face, radiant from post orgasm buzz. "Oh love, did you like that?" "Yes. I always like it when a pretty woman eats me." "I'm glad. It was so lovely to watch you, darling." Heather struggled around to Jean's cunt and began to lick. Jean was still hot, but needed arousal first. Heather, frustrated from the exertion, compelled her by telepathic force to thorough arousal. Jean began to react uncontrollably to any touch from Heather. Every contact point had become an erogenous zone. Jean's body was going wild with stimuli. She frantically heaved her hips and shook her head even more madly than Heather had. Heather shoved three fingers into Jean's dripping cunt. She worked them around, violating her brutally. She fucked in and out with the fingers, and quickly, Jean began to come. Her hands clutched Heather's face into her cunt. Her legs clamped onto the other woman's head. "AAAIIIIIEEEEE!" she simply made a primal scream last the duration of the orgasm. It seemed to last and last and last. When she shuddered to a stop, she was dripping from sweat, panting madly and stroking, as this had all begun, Heather's sweet hair. ==== The headache continued but he forced a tendril of thought free, accepting pain to achieve a breakthrough. The slamming pain grew inside his skull, but his determination was immense. His eyes lost vision during the effort. This time he traced with a thin probe around the edge of the donut shaped shield. Delight! Success! The shield was not completely covering the man pushing him. Once in the nervous system pathways, he easily reached inside the man's mind and took control. All the while, his skull was rattling like a can of rocks, and his ears screaming with associated pain. The first thing he did with his converted follower, shut off the wire net shield. Relief came as the pounding in his skull stopped. He could almost see again. Yes, he thought, that was a door we just passed. Bob had the man take the battery out of his mind shield. His thoughts became much easier to read. Almost as lifted from behind a thin panel of translucent glass. He gave his escort an opportunity to stop for a cigarette. He hated the smoke, but needed an excuse to have them pause. He wanted to