("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
		type of literature, or you are under age,
		PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text


















--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2012.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

The Svengali Device
By Anonymous (no address provided)

***

A NASA device to control an astronaut's body is used 
on a female development team member with pleasurable 
consequences. It is not mind control but physical 
control of all muscles below the neck. A thinly 
disguised true story. (FF, reluc, mast, exh, sci-fi)

***

Author's note: The Svengali Device actually exists. It 
will be used in an upcoming manned Mars mission. The 
author, a female NASA engineer, verifies the 
authenticity of the events described during the 
testing and training phase. She has since left NASA to 
take up a position at a university. The names, of 
course, are all fictitious.

***

Up until yesterday I worked for NASA on the Mars 
landing project. My letter of resignation said that I 
had been offered a position on the faculty of MIT. 
That much is true but here is the real story of my 
resignation. 

First let me tell you a little about myself. My name 
is Brigitte Swenson. I was raised on a farm in 
Minnesota about 60 miles from Minneapolis and attended 
the local high school. It was a small school. Too 
small to field a football team but big enough for a 
basketball team. I was one of six girls in my senior 
class. To put it bluntly, I was a bit of a science 
geek. Almost an uber nerd. I excelled in math, physics 
and biology. This made me seem a little puzzling to 
the boys in my class. It was very unfeminine.

It's not that I looked like a nerd. I had typical 
Swedish blond farm girl looks. Tall, well built, with 
a reasonably attractive face. It's just that I didn't 
act like a typical girl. There were so few of us in my 
class that I had my share of dates to school dances by 
default. Probably the boys chose lots and the loser 
had to take me. Most made the obligatory pass, groped 
me during dances and tried to get in my pants. I've 
got to confess that many of them succeeded. The boys 
didn't have to try very hard. I was very cooperative.

I lost my virginity on a Scouting camping trip during 
the summer between my sophomore and junior year in 
high school. Actually I didn't lose my virginity. I 
more or less willingly gave it away. It was a cold 
night, the blankets were thin, and the boy in the next 
tent and I decided to pool our body heat and share our 
body parts. It was a very logical arrangement. Raised 
on a farm, I knew what sex was all about. At first my 
male bed partner and I just hugged each other. Just to 
keep warm, you know. 

Then I felt his hands creep under my sweatshirt and 
fondle my tits. I was proud of my tits. They were the 
size of oranges and were very sensitive. If I matured 
to look like my mother they would get even bigger. 
Perhaps the size of grapefruits. Large grapefruits. My 
nipples got hard and I felt his mouth on them. Despite 
the cold I was getting warmer and warmer. I liked to 
have my body touched and my tits sucked. I even liked 
to have a finger stroke my cunt. 

But this was no finger. It was bigger and harder and 
leaked a bit at the end. He pulled down my sweatpants 
and I felt the end of his cock press between my pussy 
lips. By this time I was so hot that I simply put my 
big farm girl hands around his butt and pulled him 
into me. It surprised both of us but we took advantage 
of the situation and had a glorious first fuck. I must 
have cum three or four times during the night. We 
didn't get much sleep but at least we kept warm.

By the time of my graduation most of my male 
classmates and I had shared our body parts several 
times. I thrashed and squirmed and orgasmed with the 
best of them and was regarded as a great piece of ass, 
although a bit hard to talk to. There is not much to 
do in a rural Minnesota town during the winter if you 
don't ice fish or play hockey. Fucking was enjoyable 
and certainly good exercise. At least the way I did 
it. 

With the proper prevention there were no bad 
consequences. It beat watching inane sitcoms on TV. I 
figured that my high school sex life wouldn't 
interfere with my chosen career as a scientist. Who 
knows or cares what Madame Curie did as a teenager. 
Like a proper nerd, I scored over 1500 on my SATs and 
was admitted to Cal Tech and given a scholarship to 
boot.

I worked my ass off at Cal Tech. Sure I had a few 
dates on the weekends and even a short lesbian affair 
with a fellow student but apart from a few dalliances 
I would have made the vicar at the Lutheran church in 
my town proud. Decent climaxes were few and far 
between. Cal Tech is hardly a party school. In my 
senior year I was mentored by Professor Saul 
Rosensweig, a Nobel Prize winner in neuro physiology. 

Professor Rosensweig had just received a large grant 
from the Christopher Reeve foundation to develop a 
device for restoring mobility to paraplegics. The idea 
was simple. A break in the spinal cord, such as actor 
Reeve suffered in a fall from his horse paralyzes the 
entire body below the break. If a way could be found 
to transfer nervous system impulses from the brain to 
the spinal cord below the break then some measure of 
mobility would be restored. The previous year, Prof. 
Rosensweig had published a paper describing just such 
a method.

Rosensweig proposed putting an array of miniscule 
electrodes above the break to pick up the nerve 
impulses from the brain. The received signals would be 
transmitted to a similar array of electrodes below the 
break point to activate the nerve. The trick was to 
connect the right nerves to each other. He proposed a 
calibration program in which a computer ran through an 
extensive series of stimuli exciting each nerve above 
the break point and noting which muscle group was 
activated below the break point. 

Eventually the broken nerve segments could be matched. 
When the best match was found, the arrays would be 
surgically implanted and the paraplegic would achieve 
some degree of functional mobility. When tested on 
animals, it worked well.

But a couple of years after the project was started, 
it was terminated. Another technique of restoring 
function seemed even more promising. The right 
combination of hormones, surgery, and retraining could 
induce the severed nerve ends to actually grow back 
together. But Prof. Rosensweig's research attracted 
the attention of NASA.

The first human Mars landings would be difficult and 
extremely costly. The plan was for an orbiting space 
craft to circle the planet carrying a team of experts 
while a two astronaut lander vehicle descended to the 
surface to remain there for several weeks collecting 
data. It was a daunting task. The men on the surface 
would have to work as pilots, explorers, engineers, 
geologists, meterologists, cartograhers, repairmen, 
and, if the need arose, medical men. 

No single person could possess all of those skills. 
One of the NASA scientists remembered that during WW2 
an appendectomy was performed aboard a US submarine in 
enemy waters by remote control. A shoreside surgeon 
directed the actions of a medical corpsman by radio to 
perform the surgery. The patient lived. Rosensweig's 
methodology could offer a high tech method of 
achieving the same effect.

In its final developed form the apparatus was quite 
simple. An expert in the skill to be performed wore a 
nervous system sensor helmet. The electrical nerve 
impulses directing the appropriate muscle movements 
were picked up and transmitted by a radio link to a 
receiver attached to the astronauts neck. The 
astronauts voluntary nerve impulses in the spinal cord 
were blocked by an electrical interfering signal. The 
orbiting expert wearing the helmet controlled the 
astronaut's muscle movements. The sensor array was, in 
fact, a tranceiver. Tactual and sensory information 
was sent back to the controlling expert. 

He or she had to know what the fingers were feeling as 
well as doing. No visual or auditory data was sent 
over the link since there were plenty of other ways to 
establish sight and sound communication. Basically, 
when activated, the link gave the orbiting expert 
control over the astronaut's body from the neck down.

One of the wags at NASA dubbed it the Svengali Device 
after the story of a charlatan who mesmerized a young 
girl to be an opera singer. She could sing like an 
angel but only when the hypnotist willed her to, In 
the same sense the astronaut could be a master surgeon 
but only when a real surgeon was directing his 
fingers.

As Professor Rosensweig's apprentice, I was hired by 
NASA to demonstrate the Svengali Device to both the 
astronauts and the flight surgeons who would be 
responsible for attaching it. The job was really 
simple but paid well. I would travel to various 
locations and demonstrate the device to small groups 
of NASA personnel. The procedure was simple. I had a 
transceiver attached to the back of my neck with Magic 
Glue. Because of the long calibration program the 
transceiver stayed attached for the entire training 
session. 

The training group, usually consisting of a few 
Martian astronaut candidates and a couple of medical 
personnel would receive a lecture on the theory of the 
device and then be shown how to attach it. For the 
practical part of the demonstration a member of the 
audience would don a helmet with sensors which would 
pick up muscle movement commands from the brain. The 
signals would be sent to a powerful desktop computer 
which would process the information and then send 
muscle movement commands to the chip fixed to my neck. 
My muscles would do the things that the operator 
commanded. Each member of the training group got a 
chance to be "me" for a short while.

It wasn't as scary as it sounds. The program had all 
sorts of safeguards. I couldn't be made to hurt myself 
or anyone else. The social situation precluded any 
obscene behavior. There was another NASA scientist 
standing by to pull the plug in case things got out of 
control. Finally, the program shut itself down after 
30 minutes.

But how could the group tell that I was not faking? We 
thought for a long time about it but the problem 
solved itself. Usually there was a member of the group 
that played the piano or a guitar or juggled. While I 
was demonstrating the Svengali Device the helmet 
wearing controller would have me play some favorite 
melody or juggle or even do card tricks. The 
controller was moving my hands just as he or she would 
move their own.

Each training session lasted several days. We usually 
all stayed in a motel near the base for convenience. 
Training was intense. We didn't want normal day to day 
duties to interfere. My last training group consisted 
of two astronaut candidates, both handsome and 
distinguished looking men, a couple of middle aged 
flight surgeons, and a rather mousey nurse who would 
be responsible for actually attaching and calibrating 
the transceivers.

The first and second days of our training session were 
unexceptional. The theory session went off without 
incident. Everyone seemed to understand how the device 
worked. On the second day everyone got to wear the 
helmet and act as the controller. I went through a 
series of card tricks, played the piano, and tried my 
hand at knitting. I never knitted anything before and 
even I was surprised at how deftly my fingers handled 
the needles and yarn. By the end of the day I was 
exhausted and looked forward to a long shower and a 
good night's sleep. We all retired to our rooms 
anticipating the wrap up session scheduled for the 
next morning.

Just as I stepped out of the shower I felt the buzzing 
in my neck. This was the sign of the five minute 
calibration cycle necessary to verify the integrity of 
the connection. I knew that I had just a few minutes 
to find out what was happening. My laptop computer was 
on the coffee table in front of the sofa. I flipped it 
open and established a connection to the main computer 
at NASA headquarters to see if a system test that I 
had not known about was occurring. No luck. Things 
were normal. 

I then established a connection with our local desktop 
computer that processed the Svengali commands. All I 
could determine was that some unauthorized person had 
turned it on. And that was it. There was a final 
buzzing pulse and I lost control of my body from the 
neck down. Thankfully, I was sitting on the sofa. 
Otherwise I would have fallen a a heap on the floor 
until the controller made me stand up.

There I was. Sitting stark naked on the sofa, still 
dripping wet. I could move my head from side to side 
and up and down. I could move my eyes, twitch my nose, 
and lick my lips but I couldn't voluntarily move 
anything else. My breathing was normal and I could 
make whispering voice sounds but I couldn't speak loud 
enough to cry out for help. I sat there for a few 
seconds just waiting for something to happen. I knew 
that the system would turn itself off in 30 minutes so 
I decided just to wait it out. Then my hands began to 
move.

My hands moved tentatively at first but it was obvious 
that the motions weren't random. Someone was 
controlling them. They slowly moved up and cupped my 
breasts. The fingers grasped the soft tissue and 
squeezed a bit. It was as if they were giving me a 
breast examination. I have big breasts and my fingers 
squeezed even tighter around the middle. I felt an 
erotic sensation and looked down. The end of my boobs 
bulged like water balloons. The nipples and areolas 
were bright pink. Then the hands drifted forward and 
began rolling the nipples between my thumbs and 
forefingers. 

The sensations got stronger and stronger. After a few 
minutes of nipple play my nipples were as stiff as 
little thimbles and I could feel them tingling. I'm 
sure that whoever was controlling my hands could feel 
them too. The fingers rolled my nipples for what 
seemed an eternity then grasped my turgid nipples and 
pulled them out as far as they could go. I always 
liked my nipples pulled hard and the feeling was 
extremely erotic.  This wasn't a breast examination at 
all. My own hands were feeling me up.

"Please stop" I managed to whisper. I was embarrassed 
at the way my body was responding. My nipples had 
grown to the size of small acorns and the color had 
changed from pink to red. Little bumps emerged on the 
areolas. The nipples longed for even more intense 
stimulation. I desperately wanted my errant hands to 
raise my breasts to my mouth so I could lick the 
nipples. 

I wanted, no, needed my titties to be sucked. But 
naturally whoever was controlling me couldn't hear my 
faint plea. Even so, my controller would feel my 
excitement. Then, as if my controller could read my 
mind, I felt my hand leave my right breast and join 
the hand holding my left breast. With both hands 
clutching the breast my hands raised it towards my 
head. The nipple was almost within reach of my mouth. 
All I had to do was bend my head downward. My breasts 
were big but not big enough to reach my lips without a 
little cooperation on my part. I could have resisted. 
But I didn't.

I bent my head forward and wrapped my lips around the 
rough nipple. I sucked and chewed. The feeling was 
heavenly. I never felt this way when I masturbated. 
When I did that I knew exactly what I was doing to 
myself and could anticipate each pleasure. But now my 
hands were acting on their own. I couldn't tell what 
they would do next. As I tongued my swollen nipple I 
caught a glimpse of motion on my computer screen. 

The laptop, still open on the coffee table, showed an 
image of me sucking my tit. The computer camera was on 
and I was broadcasting my image to the internet. 
Certainly my controller could watch me. I had 
neglected to sign off the link to the main computer at 
NASA headquarters so they were receiving the image 
too. All communications to the NASA computer were 
recorded. My tit self-sucking video was being 
preserved for posterity.

I could see, in vivid color, my hands holding my 
breast to my mouth. I could watch my cheeks hollow and 
fill as I tried to draw milk from my barren pap. I was 
making a thoroughly indecent display of myself. Almost 
obscene. As I watched I saw my right hand leave my 
breast and move down my body stroking it gently as it 
went. It settled right on my crotch. 

"Don't do it," I whispered. "Please don't do it." To 
no avail. My controller spread my legs. The movements 
were a bit awkward since the Svengali Device did not 
have as fine control over the body below the waist as 
it did over the hands and arms. Still they spread 
apart exposing my pussy for the entire world to see. 
The fingers of my free hand roamed over my vulva, 
caressing the already slightly puffy lips, stroking my 
clitoris in passage. I shuddered at the twinge of 
ecstasy every time my fingernail passed over my clit. 

By this time I was so caught up in what was being done 
to me that I forgot that I was broadcasting my passion 
to the world. I had lost my sense of scientific 
objectivity. All I could think about was cumming. It 
had been a long time since I had a decent orgasm and I 
really needed one. My controller was making my hands 
do a great job of pleasuring my body. It was entirely 
involuntary, almost as if I was being raped by my own 
hands. I had absolutely no responsibility for anything 
that was happening to me. So I guess that gave me 
leave to enjoy myself without guilt.

"If you are going to do it to me, do it right," I 
thought. "Drive those fingers into my cunt. Really 
work me over." As before, my controller seemed to be 
able to read my mind. The hand that was holding my 
breast to my mouth descended to join its partner on my 
pussy. I grasped my nipple between my teeth trying to 
hold it in place. I but down hard reveling in the 
combinations of pain and pleasure. 

Alas my tits weren't quite big enough for me to suck 
them without some manual assistance. Perhaps in a few 
more years - -. My nipple slithered out of my mouth, 
scraping against my teeth. I watched my breast drop, 
the end wet and shiny, the nipple even redder and 
larger. I'm sure I would have tooth marks around the 
areola in the morning.

My two hands were now free to work their magic on my 
vulva. I couldn't bend my head down far enough to 
watch what they were doing but I had a good view on 
the laptop screen. I felt, rather than saw, the 
fingers spread my labia and scoop up a little moisture 
from inside my vagina. Then they began to stroke 
around the whole area, paying special attention to the 
inside of my pussy lips. One hand drifted to my 
clitoris and the fingers gently played over the 
surface. 

My controller had a good imagination. It's just what I 
would have done to myself. I couldn't physically move 
but my body was squirming internally from the intense 
stimulation. The best way I can describe it is as if I 
was tied down to a bed, unable to move, while an army 
of sexual ninjas manipulated my body parts. All i 
could do was whisper to my controller, "Oh, please. Do 
it to me. Do me. Make me cum." 

Finally the fingers of one hand circled my clitoris, 
gently stroking it. Waves of excitement surged through 
me with each touch. The fingers of the other hand 
penetrated my vagina and moved in and out. I could see 
what I was doing on the laptop screen. My pussy seemed 
huge. 

I was finger fucking myself, my wet fingers driving 
into my cunt faster and faster while my other hand 
pulled and twisted my now swollen clitoris. I could 
smell the musk of my juices and that made me even more 
excited. Please hurry, I thought. The 30 minutes are 
almost up and I need an orgasm before the system shuts 
down. The idea that I could finish doing myself even 
after the shutdown never occurred to me.

I felt myself rising, rising, toward a climax as my 
hands worked my pussy. Despite the induced paralysis 
my body was twitching, my hips rising to meet my 
stroking fingers as if responding to a lover. My legs 
stretched out and tensed, beginning a final orgiastic 
dance. These autonomic body movements had never 
occurred in any of our trials. But then no one had 
ever given our subjects an orgasm while using the 
Svengali Device.

A spasm of my legs kicked the coffee table and jarred 
the computer. The camera no longer imaged my face but 
pointed lower on my body. I could see that I was 
sprawled diagonally across the screen, feet in one 
corner, neck in the other while my hands were working 
my cunt. I've got to admit that it was a lovely and 
very sexy image. It was strangely erotic. Beautiful, 
in fact. If I didn't know it was me I would have 
looked at it for hours. But it was me and I wanted to 
see the girl on the screen shudder to completion. I 
wanted to cum.

My controller was working me to a peak. My body 
responded. Bolts of electricity shot through me. I 
could feel my cunt growing. It was swallowing me 
whole. I was becoming all cunt. A cunt that was going 
to explode in an orgasm. I could feel it starting to 
happen. The world dropped away and my psyche, my very 
objective scientific nerd's psyche, vanished into my 
vagina. My body rolled, twisted and shuddered, legs 
rigid, back arched.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" I whispered to myself. 
"I'm going to cum now! Yes, Yes. I'M CUMMING, 
CUMMMING!" 

My body blasted into orbit with my best orgasm in 
years. Because of the magic of the Svengali linkage 
every one of my sensations must have been transmitted 
directly back to my controller. 

Just in time. The system shut down and I collapsed 
back on the sofa, now in full control of my body. It 
was all I could do to stand up and shut off my 
computer, knowing that I had broadcast my ecstasy to 
all of NASA on the internet. I wiped my pussy juices 
off the naugahyde sofa, took another shower, and went 
to bed. As I fell asleep I pondered the question of 
who had done this to me. If my controller was a man it 
must have been an odd experience. A full-fledged 
female orgasm in a male body. If the controller was a 
woman, it might have been the climax of a lifetime.

In the morning I knew that I would have to face the 
trainees for the final session. Who was my controller? 
Was it one of the astronauts? They were handsome guys 
and I wouldn't mind having one of them fuck me for 
real. Was it one of the flight surgeons? Probably not. 
They were responsible family men and neither one 
seemed particularly interested in me during the 
classroom periods.

I tried to make our final meeting as short as 
possible. I gave each one of the students the official 
NASA handbook describing the Svengali Device and the 
certificate of course completion. Then I shook their 
hands and said goodbye. When I got to the final 
student, the nurse, she grasped my hand tightly and 
pulled me closer. She said quietly "I hope you liked 
what we experienced last night. I know that I did."

"Yes I did. Thank you," was all I could manage to say. 
She kissed me on the cheek and we said an awkward 
goodbye. Still I kept her name and phone number in my 
address book in case of a carnal emergency.

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 74