======== 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 [09/11] Date: 24 Jun 1996 22:55:52 GMT Organization: Rainbow Lines: 1407 Message-ID: <4qn6do$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=9; total=11 X-Newsreader: WinVN 0.99.7 Xref: news.primenet.com alt.sex.stories:165927 alt.sex.stories.bondage:381 colors came from the moisture in opal, not the stone itself. Tiger's eye was its own natural wonder. She wandered out past the moon rock, encased in Plexiglas of some sort. There the school aged kids were gathered with their mothers. The distant origins of the stone chunk attracted as much attention as the rare gems of Earth. A tall man looked on, over the children. He seemed as fascinated as the kids. Was it her imagination, or was he watching her too? She was used to men looking at her though, they found her attractive. She stepped out into the hall. She started towards the exhibit of American Indian artifacts. Brushing her red paisley dress smooth, she failed to notice how it accented her figure. The low heeled, white shoes she wore set off the laced socks she'd worn well. She passed a museum guard, whose head followed the swish of her dress' hem with momentary interest. He admired the section of exposed leg, a calf turned with gentle and elegant curves. The old drums and pictures of tepees adorning the walls didn't attract her attention as much as the dugout canoe. She wondered how long it took to hollow out, the birch bark canoe had to be easier to make. She clasped her hands behind her back, stepping from exhibit to exhibit. These weren't as interesting as the tiger's eye, but it remained a relaxing escape. Behind her, a teenage boy admired the round shape of her bottom and the drop of her dark pony tail as his parents called him away. She never noticed. She did catch a glimpse of the tall dirty blond fellow again, examining the same dugout she'd looked at a while ago. He was handsome enough, maybe she could introduce herself. He wandered off before she made up her mind. Sigh, so it goes, she thought. In the hall with the insect models she shuddered. She slipped past them to see the whale. Hanging from the ceiling, it was impressive. She liked the elegance of its long sleek features. She walked down the stairs, drawing attention from the male half of a couple going up. The guy's girlfriend punched him, whispered voices conveying disapproval of his behavior. She smiled to herself. Before the case showing the stuffed Seals she spied the tall guy she'd seen elsewhere in the museum. This time she was going to get close. His dirty blond hair was neatly combed. He wore a stylish pair of trousers, a light cotton shirt, and dark running shoes. She thought about introducing herself. This whole thing was very unlike her. She almost never walked up to a stranger to introduce herself. She stepped over to stand beside him anyway, uncertain where her courage was coming from. He turned, flashing her a sweet disarming smile. Her insides melted a bit. Nerves took over. She froze up, barely managing to smile back. "Hello." "Hi," she squeaked. A short pause occurred. "My name is Bob. I'm only visiting New York for the second time." "I'm Courtney," she bobbed up on her tip toes, guessing him to be about six foot four. Her five and an half foot height forced her to tilt her head back to look at his face. She could see his eyes linger on the rise of her bust, thrust forward by tilting her head. "What would you say to accompanying me through some more of the museum?" "Sounds promising." They walked for some time. She lost track of where they'd been. He was very absorbing to listen to. If asked, she couldn't have said what he talked about though. He was so, so, well, interesting for some reason. By the time they walked through the exhibit of dinosaur bones, and passed the large sea turtle, she had her arm intertwined with his. Her head seemed almost magnetically drawn against his shoulder. "How about we go outside, get a drink some place," he suggested. "I'd like that." As they emerged into the late afternoon sun, he allowed her to nuzzle against him as though they were long time lovers. His warmth wasn't the attraction, but attracted she was, clinging as she'd never done with anyone before. "They blow up the balloons for the Thanksgiving Day parade on this street," she told him. He chuckled. "I presume you mean they inflate them, not explode them." She turned red for a moment, embarrassed, although she knew he was pulling her leg. "It's great to come the night before the parade. Everyone comes. It's a huge party up and down the block. I've seen Woody Allen out here to see the event." "Nice. Could be a lot of fun." They walked away from Central Park, then south. He was particularly fascinated with a store featuring wind up toys. The name was "The Last Wound Up" and they had to go in. He bought her a set of walking teeth. She laughed as they clattered across the countertop. They stopped at a cafe, pulling up a table by the window. She had Cappuccino, he had Expresso. She'd never seen anyone put cream and sugar into Expresso. He called it Turkish style. He was remarkably quiet now, letting her run her mouth about her life. She told him how she'd come to New York to work as an actress. She talked about the problems with apartments, the job market, her favorite recent movie. When he excused himself to use the men's room she admonished herself. She was practically flinging herself at him.. She'd only just met him, and here she was telling him her life story. It was very out of character for her, the aloof woman she'd become, but she wanted to spend the rest of the evening with him. Hopefully, she would have many evenings with him.. ==== In the men's room, Bob rinsed his face. Two men slipped in the two stall bathroom after him. He had just washed his hands, when one of them grabbed his shoulders and slammed him back against the wall. A knife glinted in the glare of harsh bare lightbulbs. The brawny man before him started to lunge... never to make it. His eyes glazed over, then his accomplice froze as well. Bob found the image of another man, a buddy, in their minds. They'd been told to roll him, take anything they wanted, but to leave him dead. They'd followed him since early in the morning. The buddy, someone they occasionally did work for, hadn't said why. And these two never would've asked anyway. He pulled everything from them they knew about their charming pal. Then he left. About fifteen minutes later, a blue uniformed patrolman was listening to the two confess everything illegal they'd done since kindergarten. They listened to him read them their rights, but they breezed on through everything again, explaining in detail where he could get evidence. Bob by then was back with the girl. Very lightly adjusting her impressions of him to make him as seductive a partner as she'd ever met in her life. A dream like lover or prince to her. She was dizzy as he quickly either adjusted her the slightest amount, or by reading her mind took advantage of her own desires. He was going to take her. And use her to sheath his tool. ==== Courtney enjoyed the flick, a romantic comedy about some guy, his kid and a truly improbable girlfriend. She held Bob's hand the entire time, unwilling to let him go. The night was cooler. They walked to the upper west side, wandering around west of Columbia. Her apartment was near by, it was time to call it a night. She took him along to her building stoop. They sat and watched the comings and goings from the neighborhood a little while. "I've got to go to bed," she told him. He smiled and took her by the hand to the door. She teetered back and forth a few minutes, while he stood there. "Come up for a quick soda, but then you'll have to go." His head tilted quizically, but he agreed. She couldn't escape the seductive draw he had about him. She found her eyes swallowed in his dark gray pool like eyes. Unlocking the door she guided him into the narrow apartment. The living room shared space with the kitchenette. Her air conditioner had started on the time, so the apartment was cooler than out doors. Not much cooler, but enough to make it livable. The bedroom, slightly unkempt, showed through the door next to the stove. She started to go pull the door to the bedroom closed, but his hand firmly grasped her shoulder. She turned and her eyes again were drawn to his. She couldn't yank her eyes aside at all. Her mouth hung open as he drew close. She backed against a chair, stumbling, but not taking her eyes from his. Her head tilted unconsciously back as his lips met hers. Finally her eyes were off his. They were closed as she lost herself in the lusty exchange of greetings between their tongues. She could feel strength in his arms as he reached behind her, pulling her torso close to his own. A dream quality, as though she were only present as an observer, crept over her. She pulled back. "I don't think we'd better..." He drew her in again. The sensual touch of his body against her sent a tingling and pleasant feeling into her stomach. The hum of the air conditioner covered her gasp of pleasure as he gently gripped her ass, more a light massage than a grasp. She tried to pull away, but his tongue held her like a magnet. She pressed against his chest lighter than she intended, planning to escape from his clasp. Lingering kisses from him were covering her face. Chest heaving now with excited interest, she found her eyes were rolling from the sensation of being tenderly worshiped. She didn't want to let this happen. She didn't. But Bob was in control of the moment, pulling her in tighter, raining little goose bump raising kisses about her neck and shoulders. Then his fingers found her breast. She drew in a sharp gasp as the electric bolt of arousal shot through to her throat. The fabric added its own gentle silk feel to his touch, giving the contact a jolting and burning sensation. She managed weakly to pull back, panting. Lips swollen with lust [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] filled excitement, she shook her head trying to shake free from the cobwebs tangling her mind. This couldn't be, she thought. She never let anyone in on the first date. And never necked or petted if she didn't know them pretty well. Bob though, he, well, he was almost mystically enticing. And well, she could stop him now, couldn't she? He drew her to the couch and pulled her down. The sounds of City life were battering down the walls, sirens, yelling couples, kids crying out in the night. She heard her own heart over the normal City noises, pounding excitedly as the man beneath her sucked in her lips, wrestled with her tongue, and took free liberties with her breasts. It was a dreamy kind of excitement. A wild trip, a roller coaster with Bob's hands gently kneeding the concealed flesh through her clothing. Every time she opened her eyes they rolled about, bringing her head into gyrating motions of lust. The kisses he passionately endowed to her were searing hot, bringing a wet lust into her throat. "Unnngh." Her discussion was lowering to simple moans, she locked her hand about Bob's wrist, the one with the molesting hand attached. But she couldn't bring herself to push the hand away as she knew she should. His breath brought a flaming red heat to her skin. A crawling feeling of pleasure crept across the back of her shoulders. "Oh, please, I can't..." Her head lolled back as he treated her neck and throat to a bath from his tongue and lips. "No. No. Don't do this..." That villainous hand was resting on her right leg. Right at the knee. The fingers were caressing the flesh there, exploring the inside of her leg. "Oh. Please don't do that..." The hand slowly inched upwards. She snatch at it with her left hand while he tongued the slight cleavage exposed in the red paisley print. However tightly she griped the hand though, she found herself almost guiding him forward, helping to lift the hem of the dress above her thighs. Sensing her vulnerability, he was going to get his fingers on her sopping wet crotch. She was ashamed, shocked she was allowing a one day acquaintance do this to her. The tips of his fingers teased her flesh through the wet panties. She knew he now was aware just how wet she'd become. She was certain her face was pink. The shame at letting him get this far tonight was affecting her breathing, bringing the panting to a heavier level. "Ohhh! I don't want to do this, not tonight... ohhhh!" "Sure you do," he whispered into the ear he was nibbling. A wet soft tongue explored the recesses there afterwards. "No, no. It isn't right. Ahhh! I hardly know you..." "Soon you'll beg me, I promise to get you hot enough to forget any reason for hesitating." His fingers had teased her crotch to the point it was rolling on its own, betraying her professed wishes. Her pelvis was trying to join in, generating a rhythm she struggled to suppress. And failed. "ooooohhh!" Her tongue protruded its tip out, pressing against her lips. She could feel his mouth at her tits, chewing lightly through the cloth. Her nipples were shooting energy out her chest in all directions. Their erect state was clearly visible through the dress, any time he lifted his head. "ooooohhh!" A guttural groan rose within her. The day's excitement was growing into the night's excitement. Her body was engaged in sex without her permission. She couldn't stop him. His entire hand now cupped her crotch. Heat was rising from there as well. "ooooohhh!" She could feel him pull back a bit. Her dilemma at wanting to go on, and wanting to stop remained in his hands. He began to lift her dress up over her head. She struggled to stop him, pushing him away. But he simply took her wrists in one hand and did the work with his other. Stripped to her bra and panties, she felt exposed. The shame she felt earlier rose again, turning her pink. He paused only to chuckle at her embarrassment. His fingers again working their magic at her crotch. There was a magic too, for all the arousal he gave her, she seemed unlikely to come soon. She was on the up side of a roller coaster, and there was no telling when she'd come down. Her body's excitement grew. Her mind was wallowing in the shame at the loss of control over her own desires. His finger tips flew along the length of her most private parts, forcing the fluids to rise inside. "ooooohhh! unnnggh, stop, unnnggh, please stop... why are you, ooooohhh!, doing this to me???..." The spiral of excitement climbed higher as her hips lunged against his hand. Her head rolled. And again he stopped. She couldn't decide whether to scream for him to leave or to continue. He lifted her. Carrying her draped across his shoulders like so much waste in a large sack, he hauled her to the bedroom. She never let anyone in here. She knew she was being violated, but her body was an accomplice in the act. He eased her onto the bed, and pulled off the panties, her shoes, and undid the bra she still wore. Her body continued to throb with desire against her wishes. Still wearing her lacy socks, she was rolled onto her back. He stood there undressing as she watched panting. "Don't do this. I beg you, stop now. Maybe we can do this some other time, when we've known each other longer." He chuckled again. "I'm taking you now. And instead of begging me to stop, you'd best consider begging me to fuck you. You might want to get over eventually, and you'll only get there if I take you." "No, ooooohhh, can't be true." He was beside her again, naked. Her flesh against his flesh. She could feel the draw, the magnetism, a seductive pull from the man. He had her body under his sway, and she couldn't change that. "ooooohhh!" Her moaning commenced again. He wrapped his arms around her, spooning her with his stiff prick against the crack of her ass. Right hand cupping her crotch again, he cupped her left breast in the other. His lips worked across her shoulders to her neck and back. Goose bumps ran up and down the length of her body. She couldn't keep her legs together. Her right foot desperately sought to be behind his legs, pulling him closer to her. A finger slipped into her vagina, sending pulses into her. Her already heightened state accelerated, her left arm pounding against the mattress, seeking release. She gasped. She moaned. The air in her lungs gushed out, only to be replaced in seconds by a rush of fresh oxygen. "No," she gasped again. "no..." His cock was rubbing in and out along her cheeks. A tingling pleasant feel rose from her bottom. Where she lay now, trapped in Bob's arms, she couldn't change no matter what. She needed to come. She had to come. The orgasm she needed was just another step on the ladder of ecstasy, she could tell. However, nothing changed to give her the release her body demanded. Frantically, she pushed herself farther along, and just as frantically the release moved another step away. "No. no, ooooohhh!" "You want to come?" came his harassing voice. "Oh Yes! ooooohhh!" "You'll have to beg for it..." "AAAHHHH, I-I CAN'T!" "Oh, come on now, let's here it. 'Please fuck me, please fill my pussy', you can do it..." "no, no, aaaahhh, nooooo..." The fingers in her cunt began to work her clitoris, the nerves virtually shouted in combinations of pain and pleasure. Her body was pounding against him, rocking the mattress now. "You either beg, or you won't get what you want..." "OH GOD, why are you doing this to me...?" "Because you're so pretty as you plead with me. It excites me, and you seem to crave this kind of treatment." "no, no, aaaaahhhyyyyyaa!" "Oh yes..." "You're humiliating me. nnnnngggh, you bastard." "Yes, but it's making you so fucking hot isn't it? ISN'T IT?!" "No, no, no, .... aaaahhhh, yes it is you fuck." "Be nice, beg...." Her cheeks were being prodded nicely by his manhood. She wanted him in her now. She was horribly ashamed of herself for failing to stop him from going this far, but now she was trapped in a cycle of arousal. Requiring release, now she knew begging for it was the only way. "Okay, please fuck me....nnnnnnggg." "What? I don't think that was very good... try again." "GOD! fug me, please, oh please put your prick in my cunt and make me come." "Good, much better. You keep it up nicely and I may yet let you come." "AAAHHHHIIEEE! unnngh, unnnggh!" Her panting grew heavier, the heaving of her chest as he abused the nipples was madly rhythmic. She'd fuck a goddamn horse if it would get her off now. She had to have that cock in her, and she had to have it now! He pulled her feet up onto his shoulders. Maddeningly, he admired the lacy socks a moment. Then he just teased the lips of her pussy with the tip of his prick, pulling away as she tried to lunge her crotch against him to get a plunge into her. She felt like a slut begging, and now a bit like a whore, trying to press him into her like this. He was grinning. "Before I fuck you, you should tell me what a useless rag you are. I want to hear you say how you are making yourself my property, forever." "You fucking bastard. I begged. I PLEADED. Please fuck me, goddammit! Can't you see how desperately I need it? I want you, I want you so bad it hurts inside." She rolled her head from side to side again. Her body writhing out of control. "Yeah, but that's old news. I want to hear you give me ownership of your body. I want you to admit you're no better than a slave..." "Aaahhhh! I give myself to you! please, please fuck me. Please treat me like property, but please fuck me now!" "Close, not treat you like, you are property. Say it." "I'm property, yours, body and soul. GoD! CAN'T TAKE IT. PLEASE!?" "Good bitch. Now..." He plunged into her.. The fullness was grand! She rolled her head, ignoring the fact the right swing made her hang out over the edge. He pumped. She rejoiced as he pounded away, hammering with practiced skill. "Tell me, everything we agreed to while you come!" Humiliation swept deeply into her soul. It bit into where she kept her self respect, bringing out the shame she'd grown inside since she asked Bob in. She was low, an animal, no more important than a slug. She bit back her grunts, moaning as she began to speak, "I'm yours. unh, I belong oooohhh! to you. I want to be fucked. Use me as a rag. Unnngh! I need you to screw me hard! Please don't stop! unnnh..." Suddenly she felt the spurting of semen into her intimate parts. He grunted out a stern "YEES!". But she still hadn't come. He slowed down, she writhed about even more. "You promised me, please don't stop now! Please!" "Roll over bitch." "WHAT!" "You heard me." Her humiliation knew a new height. Desperate for release, she rolled. He pulled her up to her knees and pushed her face into the pillows in front of her. "Fuck me, please, let me come!" she continued to plead, knowing it didn't matter. He was going to do whatever he please with her, and she would happily consent. And assist. He was remarkably stiff for a man who just came. His prick rubbed against her little rosette, the nether hole, an even more private part of her anatomy. She never would've considered doing this before. She whimpered as he pushed his prick into her little asshole. "Yooow!" she yelped as he pressed it deeper. Her body was still rolling with waves of pleasure, anxious to orgasm. He pressed another inch into her. Surprisingly the fullness was desperately exciting as well. His cock finally pressed all the way home, his balls resting against the wet bottom of her cunt. "Unnnnggh!" she mouthed, breathing the sound out as well. His fingers found her clit again, and rubbed it in little circles. "Ready slut?" "Yes, please fuck my ass, god please fuck me hard!" and she whimpered again. His dominance of her was complete, she'd yielded everything she could. There simply wasn't anything left to give over tonight. His in and out motions built slowly. To her amazement, she found herself pushing back, forcing her ass to accept the bludgeoning instrument of invasion. She could feel the violation deep within her, her panting heaving from her in waves. Then. Then it began. She could feel the white heat rising. Flashing fires raged up from her ass, filled her from her clit, and even surged outward from the nipple he'd begun to pinch so brutally she thought she must be bleeding. "OOOOOOOHHHHIIIIIIEEEEE!" screamed her voice, as loud as she'd ever managed. Her body surged through a second orgasm following close on the heels of the first. His cock unleashed another pulse of fluid into her, leaving seed inside her most private regions. She screamed again, releasing another wave of orgasmic energy, almost slamming her head against the wall before her. She collapsed. Still kneeling, her body relieved of the tight tension of waiting, she gasped for air to recover. As she did, she could still feel him filling her ass. The humiliation returned in strength. She was too embarrassed to speak. He pulled out slowly, leaving her with a feeling she was missing something. She suddenly felt lonely without him in her. She longed for his penis within her, anywhere in her. She felt a longing well up within, desire for his touch. A desire to be a bare object, a tool for his use. She wondered at this nugget of desire, turning it in her mind. He rose. Slapping her sharply on the bottom. She smiled at this sign of ownership he'd made. At least he liked her, she thought. ==== "Hiya, Jorge." "Where are you Bob?" "New York. Met your Mr. Charles." "Not Mr. Charles. Charles is his first name." "Really? Doesn't matter. How would the Institute trace me here? I mean, I had two guys try to kill me." "Jesus. How in the fuck could anyone find you that fast? Maybe scanners at the airport?" "No, no. I'd notice that. Gotta be something else." "Maybe a simple surveillance thing. Someone recognized you from a photo. It's possible, although I have a hard time figuring out where they'd spot you. Maybe they tumbled through the hotel reservation system. I don't know." "I guess. I just thought you'd like to know. I'm gonna look for their boss. Call if anything breaks on your end." "You bet. Maybe New York isn't such a good idea." "Maybe I'll be able to backtrack them if they keep it up." "Good point. Good night." "Yeah..." click. He hung up the handset. The naked sleeping woman was a sweaty mess from their sex. She was lovely though, serene in her repose. Lacy socks still in place. _High Acid Content_ A warm summer day in Brooklyn. The sun was high. Sounds of the city had dropped off as Bob walked into the park. The breeze wasn't providing much relief. The park had drawn him, pulling him away from his ride. Something called to him, something with presence. He released the driver, sending him back to his own trivial errands. There were plenty of other chauffeurs if he wanted one. Today's journey started by searching for the hit men's boss. Nothing had come of it. The man, it turned out, died in a brutal argument shortly after ordering the attack on Bob. As a path of investigation, it totally washed out. Bob walked the wide paths, relishing the break from his search. There would be other leads to follow soon. He'd have to let Jorge know about this. The death seemed to indicate someone was carefully covering their trail, afraid of discovery. He paused to watch the leaves above, still in the sun, as the world passed by below. He wondered what happened to the breeze he'd felt earlier. A hundred yards away, a kid with oriental ethnic origins stood. He held a rifle by a tree, trying to line Bob up in his sights. The rifle was an Air Force survival .22, one of those little jobs that folds up into its own stock. Difficult to hit targets at any distance with, but easy enough to conceal. The trigger squeezed, the sound a sharp snap. The shot missed. Before he could fire again, Bob had him. Bob scanned through his mind looking for clues to the hidden mastermind. Once again, it led to another man who ordered him offed. The kid had been told to watch for Bob where the dead man used to hang out. This time the trail would lead to China town. Bob was astounded the kid managed to follow him. As he searched the boy's brain, he found enormous experience at working marks. A pickpocket and child con artist for the last three years, this was just the first time he'd been asked to kill someone. The killing would make him important. It would gain his membership to the Tong. He would rise from the ranks of petty thief to someone with power if he succeeded. Bob felt a little bemused at the ambition, to be a bigger minnow in the same pond. Bob could identify with the goal. Adjusting the young assailant's loyalties was simple. Bob sent the has been assassin to find a place of concealment near the hotel. He'd be taking him along when he went to the Tong's headquarters. The boy scampered away, something like a frightened rabbit, aglow with the task from the new gang he'd joined. Bob remained where he was, considering the attraction he felt earlier. It was very strong now. He couldn't reach out to touch the odd geas, but it remained tenuously there. Then something tweaked his interest. It was a tree. The one the youngster used for concealment. The tree was short and stunted, nothing growing near it for twenty or thirty feet. For some reason the tree radiated symbols, a little like the amber like medallions. The sense was vaporous, out of reach every time Bob strove to contact it. There was a feeling of hidden intelligence, a separate ego, an active set of thoughts. Still he couldn't reach the stream of symbols, unable to quite read them. Bob felt at his wrist. He'd had a watch made like Jorge's to keep the amber like slip of coin. The symbols weren't slipping through the shield he'd fashioned around it. The tree was its own source of the symbols. The tree was unusual for this park. It was the only one of it's kind here. It bent with twisted, gnarled, almost muscular, branches. The thin leaves were healthy and green. They were narrow, about finger length, green, flat and very sparse. It felt good to touch the tree. The odd pull vanished as he felt the coarse bark. It was as though the thing was pleading like a dog, for attention, a little petting, a little affection. After a few moments, he decided there was little more to be learned from the tree itself. So he wandered the park to consider his odd discovery. Park paths took him away from the mystery for now. He relaxed, problems could simply sink away into oblivion until much later. ==== A single bird careened amongst the trees. Light wind gave the waving branches a surreal atmosphere, almost dreamlike. The manicured meadow was peaceful in the sunlight, empty save for the occasional avian adventurer. Fresh cut grass smell lingered, but the wall of trees about the field moved to and fro without concern for the activities of such mere mortals. The park was oddly empty, not just this one field. Bob didn't mind. The privacy was a good touch after the last few months of living in Manhattan. He lay back on a blanket he'd 'borrowed', closed his eyes, and soaked in the quiet. As he relaxed he cast about him with probes of thought, seeking activity, a caution brought about by the attempts on his life. Trying not to dwell on the threat didn't prevent him from taking precautions. No one nearby was harboring threatening thoughts about him. Oh, some guy at the far end of the park was contemplating committing a mugging. Bob saved the elderly couple the punk was eyeing by performing an instant act of reform on the kid's psyche. There was also a young woman, he could sense her. She was about 18, and just out of sight amongst the trees around the field Bob was relaxing in. He eased a gentle hint of curiosity into her, something to bring her within sight. She stepped out to the green field, walking close enough to give him a good view. Olive brown skin, dark black hair, she was about 5' 9-10" tall. Her legs were almost golden in the sun, looking almost as long as the rest of her body. He knew it was an illusion, but their straightness also drew his attention. She wore tight, almost too revealing red shorts, and a halter top which restrained what appeared to be very pleasant assets. Some kind of silver jewelry graced her neck, the end of which was secluded among those same assets. Bob wondered what she would sound like in orgasm. He wondered, is she be one of the screamers, a moaner or would she whimper in a totally submissive state of grace. Or, he smiled to himself, is she one of the ones who crossed the boundaries and had giggling fits? She turned to face him. He could see wide eyes, soft red lips, and stately chiseled Roman nose. Her cheeks were smooth and high, accenting the fire in her eyes. The dark hair framed her face, also accenting her features, showing her beauty off as though she were a porcelain doll. He reached out to her and played lightly along her nervous system with the symbols. It was a serious performance, her body an unusual musical instrument with unique tones and resonance. She gasped, bringing one slender supple arm up so her fingers brushed her lips. The other arm crossed her torso beneath her chest, fingers holding to her side. Eyes dimming as her eyelids struggled to remain opened, she almost writhed in place from the invisible grasp. Her head nodded forward, then lurched back, flinging the black hair over her shoulders like a mane. Her breath rasped in sudden uncontrolled heat. Her swaying body moved smoothly into an almost dancing rhythm. He let go physical control. She remained standing, gasping and regaining composure as he released the hold he'd taken of her. He was pleased with her response. It should be more fun to manipulate this woman from child, than simply squeeze her body sexually dry in one quick burst. "Oh!" she said, coming to her senses, realizing he was watching and grinning at her. "Oh, I don't, I, well, I don't know what came over me." "That was very interesting. Come on over and sit down." "I can't. It wouldn't be a good idea, I think." He relished the way her lips rolled as she spoke. The facial expressions she used while speaking were acts of sensual behavior as well. "Only for a few minutes, really." She cocked her head as though in thought, unaware Bob had made her mind up for her. The idea of fleeing passed quickly. "Okay," as she walked forward, hips swaying, an invitation to direct and immediate rape. Bob admired the flexing movements of her waist as she dropped elegantly to the grass near him. "I'm Bob. And you...?" "Beth. Beth Covecce." "Beth, we can have some fun together. Bet you'd like that." "I'm not sure, I don't know you, like I said before. I shouldn't even be talking to a strange man alone in the park." "Have I threatened you?" "Nooo." She force the admission from herself. "Have I done anything other than talk to you?" "Well, nooo." "Where is the harm in sitting and talking with me?" "I don't know.. I just feel uneasy about it." Bob could feel her trepidations better than she could. He was thriving on it, in fact. The nervous reaction to being suddenly aroused so strongly in front of a total stranger brought mild fear up from her gut. Her sullen concern excited him. She looked at him, big browns appraising him as though he were a prospective employer. Her hands folded smoothly in her lap, arms ever so slightly pressing her breasts together and out. Bob felt his own juices stir. "What do you do Beth?" "I'm going to be a student at Columbia, this fall. I'm going to enter the business program..." "You still live at home?" "Yes. I'll commute to classes." It was Bob's turn to be reflective. She'd better dress more conservatively for that trip. Dressed the way she was, she invited sexual assault in this city. It was all he could do to keep from tumbling her right now. But he realized the thrill, the power, the excitement of using his talent was best drawn out. "What do you do Bob?" She came to the conclusion she subconsciously decided to risk meeting him, so she was going to get to know him. He could sense her will trying to take control of her actions. He smiled, knowing how helpless she was. She took it to be interest in her friendliness. "I consult for a law firm in mid-town. I was exploring different parts of the city. Today I thought this park looked interesting." "Yes, it is nice. A little patch of quiet and calm." A pause lengthened into reverie. They both watched a squirrel zip across the grass in front of them. The mad dash was both frantic and curious in nature. A small flock of pigeons settled into a picnic area at the far end of the field. Her legs stretched out, showing the turn of her ankles in gentle geometry. Bob watched her hang her head back, showing the smooth expanse of tender neck, silver necklace vanishing into her cleavage. The neck appeared yummy enough to sink his teeth into. He chuckled to himself, almost a vampire like thought. "What's funny?," she caught his eyes with hers again. "I was just thinking about vampires and how tasty your neck looked just now." She reddened up. The pink color overcame her tanned skin, giving her a look of innocence. She tucked her head down, trying to conceal her embarrassment. She didn't see how this aroused Bob. The quiet returned again. Bob could feel she wasn't sure why she'd sat with him, and the remark about her neck disturbed her Italian Catholic upbringing. What to make of this new acquaintance of hers in the park? The attempt to fathom his comment seemed to be eat into her thoughts. "Do you have a boyfriend Beth?" He already knew she did. He was looking for more ways to bring out the embarrassed pink in her face. "Yes, his name is Joe. It's really Joseph, but he likes me to call him Joe." "Do you do things with him?" "Oh yes," came vivaciously. "We go out to movies and dinner all the time. He's so sweet. We're going to get married after college. He's going away to Holy Cross. Holy Cross is in someplace called Wooster. Only it's spelled like the cooking sauce, you know Worcester or something. I think." She pronounced the name like Westchester, probably more familiar. "No Beth. Do the two of you do things in private together?" "Huh?" Then she turned red again as it dawned on her what he meant. She looked away from him, and spoke, "No, we're waiting until we get married." "That's a shame, you don't know what you're missing." "I can wait, thank you." Her face became wooden, not pleased with the direction of the conversation. "I can show you, if you want." "I think I'll go now, thank you very much." She started to get up. As she reached her feet, Bob sank a set of curiosity symbols into her, and a twinge of desire to try something with him. Standing there, looking at him as though he'd torn her clothing off, she pondered. He could see the gears clicking in her head. Actually a stream of symbols spinning in a whirl, including the ones he'd added. "I guess I could hang out a while. It's not as if I need to go anywhere or do anything today." "That's nice. I'd hate to see you leave when we were just getting to know each other." "Um, yeah." She stretched herself back out on the grass, her skin almost glowing from perspiration in the warm summer weather. At least, it seemed the sweat came from struggling with the hot weather. "So what do you two do?" "Um, I'd rather not talk about it." The embarrassment was strong, the taboo subject of sex and intimacy was bringing her to an uncomfortable state of uneasiness. "Oh, come on now. It can't be so bad." She pinked up again, turning away before almost whispering, "We kiss." "Kiss? That's all?" "He sticks his tongue in my mouth. I like it, but it's kind of gross." Bob laughed. He couldn't help let his raucous laughter roll him over in the grass. This was the worst, the most embarrassing thing she experienced so far about sex? "What's so funny!?" He calmed down. The bridge of her nose wrinkled up as she used a stern expression. Dimples were slightly visible in her cheeks. "You're embarrassed about necking? In this day and age, when virginity is so incredibly disposable? I'm hardly sure I know what to say." "You! You! You!" she sputtered at him. "It's okay! Calm down. Come over here, that's right, come on over here." Pouting like a rebuked child she crossed her arms. "I won't hurt you, I promise." She crawled over where he was sitting. She knelt next to him. He pulled her around, placing her head carefully in his lap. She resisted lightly, but not too seriously. Along with her furtive glances, she managed a nervous smile for him. Her hands clenched into fists over her chest, a barrier against advances. He smiled at the resistance, knowing how hopeless it really was. He bent forward, giving the barest of kisses, almost brotherly. She pushed him back. "Joe and I..." she trailed off as he made a more serious effort to engage her in passion. His tongue levered between her lips and glided along her teeth. She yielded to the kiss, opening her mouth and allowing him entry. Her tongue remained elusive, evading his own as he sought after it for greater interaction. Yet her hands were cool, now against the back of his neck as she pulled his face into her own. Yes, she thought, this was nice. But Joe, what about Joe? Shamefully, she felt, she was betraying Joe even by just necking with Bob. Bob was so, well, in charge. She knew Joe could never be this enticing, drawing her into a sensual experience like this. Bob enjoyed the sensation of her inner embarrassment. The pink shade of her face as her eyes closed with each passionate embrace was further visual confirmation. She entered into necking with minimal adjustment, a light tweaking of her interest, her curiosity. The humiliation was an enjoyable side effect. His hand rested on her bare tummy. The skin's surface was smooth and soft, muscled underneath, but delicate to touch. She twitch and pushed at his arm every time he moved the hand up her rib cage. Against her struggling resistance, his hand cupped her breast through the material of the halter. The flesh beneath pillowed his hand nicely, more than filling his hand. "Stop!," she squealed, pulling back from him. She rolled off his lap, and started to shake her finger at him. "I don't do that sort of thing. Keep your hands where they belong!" "Where did you think they belonged?" As he asked he sought out the resistance inside her. She contained many oddly conflicting views, any of which could cause a lot of trouble. "Tell me how it felt." "It felt...," uncertainty swept up in her. He prodded her interest and desire again. She was confused, her face screwed up in a semblance of deep thought. He rode the cyclone of symbols in her head, interjecting feelings of pleasure, blocking sensations of fear. There were many elements in the spinning thoughts giving rise to fear. Every time he thought he'd given her counter thoughts to overcome the fear, another would pop up. Once it was an image of some nameless nun, slapping her for some trivial error. An idealized image of her father flew past, certain in itself he would never do this with her mother... Reluctantly, she drew close again. She sat beside him, offering her lips as a sacrament to him. Once again her hands gathered themselves into little fists, but she struggled to keep them down on her lap. He allowed her to worship through the meeting of their lips. Their tongues returned to the tenuous game of chasing each other around in their interlocked mouths. Her brown eyes closed in gentle submission at each kiss, giving her lovely face an appearance of grace. Right arm held her across her back, he lightly held her close by the shoulder. As they necked, he used it to pull her once more into his lap. Between kisses, her brows furled, eyes pleading him to do her no harm. Tension ignored, she allowed his hand to cover her breast unimpeded. The nipple popped to a stiff erection under the halter. She gasped, feeling a sinful pleasure seep into her chest from his touch. "Oh!" She gasped it out, looking to the side. He rolled the nipple, still behind the cloth, between his fingers and thumb. Her lips opened with a sharp breath. She clenched her eyes shut, as though in pain rather than the soothing pleasure he knew she felt. He slid his hand under the halter, cupping his palm against the flesh. Her head snapped back, eyes open again, a gasp expelled with startled surprise. Her hands came up again, both grabbing hold of his forearm. Yet she allowed him to continue, rolling her head with rhythmic breaths, coming from low in her diaphragm. His left hand found the bow and knot at the back of her neck. He pulled it undone. Rolling back the cupping halter revealed the unattended breast, a pale mound of soft pliant skin, tipped with a nipple whose color almost matched her lips. The areola was almost three inches across with the knob jutting outward just so. He bent down to her chest. With the tongue's flat middle, he licked her almost light enough not to be felt. But the nipple's skin tightened immediately. He took the time to curl his tongue about the rubbery knob, lashing as well, back and forth. The flesh hardened, stiff erect, and pointing outwards from her chest. She was rolling her head now, rubbing back against his leg and waving her silken hair about. Her eyes rolled back, the lids shuttering open and closed. For all her shame in allowing him to use her body, she enjoyed the sensations all his attention gave her. Pulling his hand free from the halter's bottom string, Bob caught a glimpse of the end of her necklace, a little silver cross. He smiled, and moved it so she couldn't fail to see what he was setting aside. A huge surge of shame and guilt flowed through her, washing in amongst the sensations of pleasure. He chose this moment to tweak her nipple harder than before, bringing another gasp of pain and pleasure from her soft red lips. "unna, ooohh...," she moaned. She strove to suppress the guilt and shame, to enjoy the luxurious sensations his petting brought out. It was a mixed battle, bringing out Bob's own arousal. He played with her. The nipples were sensitive instruments, controlling her arousal without modifying her mind. She rode about on his lap, something like the sporadic movement of tree tops in the wind. Teasing at her now, he settled back, watching her face enjoy the his manipulation with only one hand. Then he slowed to a stop. She settled against his stomach, whimpering. "I never knew. I never knew how nice it would be," she whispered. "You still don't. All we did was some gentle petting." "I, um, thank you." "We're not done you know." "No?" She shuddered nervously. "I just think we'll find someplace else to play." She sat up, starting to retie the halter in place. "Don't bother. Take it completely off, now." "What!?" "You heard me. We'll both enjoy it more." "But...," she nearly whimpered. "I insist. Do as you're told." "Um, as you say," she said. She hesitantly removed the halter, handing it to Bob, who tucked the cloth into his rear pocket. He picked up his things, and they began to walk. She kept looking about. Afraid someone would see her walking, tits hanging out, with only the little silver cross over them. Thinking of the cross brought out another bout of humiliated shame. But Bob knew she now had become determined to explore the experience a little longer. ==== The street wasn't empty, and several people were stared at her. No one said anything, no one would in Brooklyn. But she felt filthy. The degradation of walking down her own block on the way home, without any cover over her full breasts, was eating into her composure. But Bob refused her quiet plea to return the halter top. Walking under the windows where friends were certain to be looking out. Worse still was what he was doing as they walked past people she knew. In the most familiar manner, his arm was around her back. At the most embarrassing moments, he reached under her arm and cupped her breast. The fingers pinched her nipples, shooting a fire of pleasure along the rib cage and up to her throat. The feelings were intense and so good. She enjoyed the use he was making of her, even before strangers. Not to mention the friends and neighbors who were watching her pass. Bob sucked in the emotion, excited at how she'd reacted. He was also pretty exhausted, causing so many people to forget seeing the two of them. There were far more than he expected in the five blocks from the park. Beth was near tears, but stoically accepted her fate. The tears couldn't hide her heightened breathing though. The humiliating walk came to an end as they entered the hallway to the brownstone. They entered her family's apartment and a sigh of relief came out. Bob knew relief would be short lived. He had already probed the apartment as they entered. Air conditioning licked along their sweaty bodies. The cool air gave Beth at least a series of attractive goose bumps. She was very unsettled, having brought him home for their fun. However, her mother would be shopping for some time, and Dad wasn't usually home until eight lately. As they stood in the living room, Bob cupped her breast and pulled her face to his for a passionate kiss. This was the moment Beth's mother stepped into the room from the kitchen. "What in the hell?!" she shouted. "Mother!" Beth's arms tried to cover her nakedness. Red streaks shot through her complexion, her head hung to one side as though beaten. "You slut! This is how you repay us?! The Good Lord knows, we've fed you, clothed you and..." Mrs. Covecce stopped in mid-sentence. Bob turned to Beth and sucked in the sensations of humiliation, degradation, and guilt the girl was exuding. His rock hard prick strained the confines of his trousers. Then he looked back at the mother. She also had long jet black hair, the same slender but full figure, and a delightfully lovely face. Beth must have inherited the brown eyes from her. Her stern look was gone, dropped into a trance like state. Her clothing was interesting considering the weather. She wore a heavy smock like felt shirt, a mid-calf length skirt, and a pair of sandals. What he could see of her legs were almost identical to Beth's and her hands looked delicate but strong. The shirt was billowy enough to conceal the exact shape of her breasts. She couldn't be older than 37 or 38. Her face just didn't carry the wrinkles of any more age than that. He figured with a little make up, the mother and daughter could pass for sisters, twin sisters. He adjusted her mind symbols. When he let her free again, she would be in an odd sort of servant mode. She'd do anything for him. She turned her life over to him for everything until he reset her later. She still would hold her own views and express them, but she'd defer to anything Bob wanted. It was easy enough to do, just not exciting to take her this way. The conquest wasn't the same. Bob wondered how other Voices got any excitement without slower incremental control, allowing the other will to fight back. Then he let go of the thought. "Beth," he prodded her to look up. "What?" She looked at her mother, "What did you do to her?" "Nothing yet. What's her name?" "Judith, but Dad calls her Judy." "Sit down in the large chair Judy," he commanded. She walked over scowling again and sat down. "How would you like to see me fuck your daughter, Judy?" "NO!," squealed Beth, "Not in front of mother!" "Oh yes dear," her mother replied, dripping acid. "You've been such a slut, you may as well get plugged now. If I get my way, your father will take a belt to you later." Her shame rose further, tears welling from the depths of her eyes. Bob turned her around before her mother, and kissed her passionately. She responded even more strongly now. Humiliation brought the heat out in her. Bob reached for the young woman's tits. He fondled them as he kissed her, knowing Beth could no longer resist the bright pleasure he gave her. He pulled back to watch her reaction to being used before her mother. Her heat was fanned by the crushing pressure on her nipples, and a moan escaped her throat. "You little cunt," said the mother, "you've been screwing around all along, haven't you. Why else would you sound so much like a whore?!" "moth..." Beth gasped at a sudden twist Bob gave her nipple. "yess." She staggered in place. Her head swayed with lust. Bob stopped molesting the girl. He stepped towards her mother. Then he turned, looking back at the vision of sex standing confused before him. Uncertainty made her fidget. "Take the shorts off, and anything underneath too," he commanded. She stared at him for a moment, then turned away and began undoing the zipper. While she was doing so he kicked his shoes off, and began to unbuckle his belt. As the hot pants hit the floor, Bob's trousers hit too. She turned around, displaying the curly black hairs at her groin. She tried to cover the pink parts with her hands, self conscious being nude before her mother and Bob both. "Pretty good looking daughter you have, Mrs. Covecce." "So you're going to rape my baby, are you? What kind of..." "Save it cunt," he interrupted. "When I'm done with her, you're going to beg to be fucked too." "You wouldn't dare! You filthy cretin. Do you really think I'll allow you to manhandle me that way!?" "Yes you will, and you'll like it too." He bit back the anger he'd started to show. It was his own fault, not taking the time to more completely take the other woman's mind. Just for fun, he sent ecstatic jolts shooting through the snarling woman. Like her daughter had reacted in the same role, she blurred into a sensual haze.. Her eyes rolled back, lips parted, and rolling sine wave like motions began in her body. She moaned and threw her head back, intently watching his eyes whenever she could keep her own open. A hand instinctively raised to her mouth, she sucked a knuckle in past the teeth. Her shoulders arched back, and her abdomen rolled a little in lustful heat. He released the hold he'd seized on her nervous system. The symbols withdrawn, she blinked. Aware how she'd behaved, she turned her head away. He read the concern in her, a concern that she was no better than her daughter. Beth, also watching this, was both aroused and embarrassed by her mother's heated response. Mothers never have anything to do with sex, do they? This was a challenging concept to the young woman. Oh sure, sex to make babies, but not for fun. "Now Beth," Bob returned to his initial play thing. The only thing she still wore was her silver cross. It pleased him to know she imagined it burned her. It scalded her for sins she believed were about to be committed. "Sit down on the floor. Spread your legs and touch yourself." "I can't do that! Mother told me it would make me sick." "Hmm, maybe we can fix that." He eyed her mother. "You go join her. Strip down to your birthday suit and sit along side. You can show her what to do." The older woman stood and rather mechanically unbuttoned the shirt, peeling it back to reveal a black lace bra restraining assets to compete with her daughter. The skirt restrain her walking stride as she moved along side her daughter. She unzipped the skirt, pulling it down around her knees, and finally over her feet. In equally smooth motions she removed a small slip, and the bra. Her panties were also black lace, and were soon in the pile with the rest of her attire. She sat, spread her legs, and began to rub her clit immediately. "You spawn of Satan! How can you make me do this?" She startled as she rubbed the pleasure button. Realization passed across her visage.. "You did this to Beth too! I'll do anything you want, just leave my baby alone. Please, I beg of you..." Bob smiled, maybe leaving her in control of her opinions and ability to speak wasn't such a bad idea. She saw this whole thing as an act of God's will, the devil's actions for sure. Her own shame was on the rise, only she was able to express her fears. "Ahhh!, no, no, no," she said. Her hips had abandoned her control, and were humping against her hand. Beth joined in, again aroused by the sight of her own mother, fucking herself with a finger. Bob enjoyed the bouncing motions the two sets of breasts were making. Every motion Beth made carried flesh into rolling movements. Judy was bobbing them up and down as she fingered herself, forcing the flesh into excited circles. "Oooooh," Beth made a round shape with her lips, panting, moaning, and moving as much as her body demanded for the deep feeling. "Aaaahh, unngg!," cried the mother. She would occasionally whimper and whine as though she'd been injured. Then a burst of "yes! YES!" would spout from her lips and she would be moaning again. He could make out the hands in both cunts, rubbing the pink tissue with fury. A chorus of moans from the two women grew louder and more