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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 [06/11]
Date: 24 Jun 1996 22:54:23 GMT
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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
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========
=============================================================================
                        Mindnumbing Archive Repost
=============================================================================

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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