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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 [09/11]
Date: 24 Jun 1996 22:55:52 GMT
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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
=============================================================================

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    The following is eroitc in nature.  If you are under the legal age of
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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
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If you have similar materials, please repost them, too.

Comments, encouragement, and additional material for the archive gratefully
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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
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[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