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Archive-name: Control/book.txt

Archive-author: Blackie

Archive-title: Book, The

Copyright (c) 1993, Oogle Bird Enterprises.

All rights reserved, permission granted for a single printed copy for

personal use only. Transmission of this story in electronic form is

permitted provided no alterations are made to text, and this message

is included in its entirety.

Part 1

Bob had lived in the house for five years before he found the book.

One day he was cleaning the crawl space, for the first time, when he

spotted a small brown cover under the ancient dust.  It was no more

than a quarter inch thick, but was not noticeably different from some

of the unevenly laid boards.  He only found it when he placed his hand

on the flooring to brace himself, only to slide six or seven inches.

The brown little binder reminded him of the little accounting notepads

he'd seen at the office supply store. It was 5 inches wide, 7 inches

tall, with no title or markings on the outside.  Inside were

handwritten scrawls he simply couldn't make out in the dark of the

crawl space.  So finally, after clearing the years of dust away, he

tucked the book into his back pocket.

During one of his trips downstairs he dropped it onto his desk.  Now

it rested in a small pile of other papers he meant to clear away, as

soon as the chance arose.

The chance didn't arise that day, and by the end of the week the stack

paper had grown enough to conceal the book again.  Bob forgot it for a

time.  When he remembered it one night, it was beyond his memory where

he placed the book.

So there it remained; buried in papers, on his desk, for months. Bob

wasn't very prompt clearing away his old bills and letters. The book

was there waiting though, when the time came.


Betty was seeing Bob now. She was a pert 5 foot 6 inch beauty with

long dark hair, weighing in at about 115 pounds.  Bob liked to look at

her, almost as much as he would like to spend a few private hours

exploring her naked body.  He imagined her firm breasts, the soft feel

of her skin, and the contours of her naked ass often.  But although

they'd been dating for 5 months, the closest he'd come was a

disappointing necking session.  It lasted only long enough for her to

point out the food he was cooking would burn.

She would also boss him around a bit.  It seemed to him as though his

vacation with her was entirely her idea, including his paying for it.

Yet they slept separately. And when he suggested that the vacation was

her doing, she pointed out that he brought the idea up, hadn't he? He

was at a loss how that happened.

If they went out for dinner, she chose the cuisine, whether he liked

it or not.  Seeing a movie frequently meant one she wanted to see,

although it kept sounding like it was his idea.  He wasn't entirely

sure how it kept happening.  She seemed pretty pleased with him

though, but sex was not part of the arrangement.

She also had a brutal temper when offended.  He was starting to wonder

if the list of offensive issues was too long to continue seeing her.

Still, he hadn't had any other dates lately and she was friendly

enough for most activities.

Betty also came to his house regularly for meals, TV, and rental

movies. Bob didn't mind much, except he'd also like some intimacy to

go with the other social activities. But now she'd decided he needed

to straighten up the house a bit, since she was there more often.

Since he wasn't doing the cleaning, she took a hand in the process,

and if he didn't watch closely, he had to fish things out of the


She would only pout and ask "what do you need that old thing for

anyway?" By the time he finished explaining, it was something else

that required rescuing from the sanitary engineers.

Bob suspected she had a permanent relationship in mind, particularly

since the cleaning assault started. When he confronted her about

getting more intimate, she told him "I'm waiting, soon enough either

we'll be getting married or not seeing each other any more. I'm saving

sex for marriage. You wouldn't like damaged goods would you?"  Bob

tacitly agreed, but thought, I don't believe it makes anyone damaged.

She cooled to him for a while, and getting her to be sociable became

more difficult. But when the subject didn't come up again for a while,

everything returned to normal. Sort of.

During her cleaning project on his house, his desk became one of her

afternoon cleaning sessions. She was sorting the papers into neat

piles. That is when the book resurfaced.

"What's this?" She asked.

"I dunno," he replied, "I found it while cleaning the crawl space.

Thought I'd lost it."

"Well, here," she said, tossing the book to him, "You find it a home,

it doesn't seem to belong with the rest of your papers." And so saying

she went back to organizing, sorting and cleaning. And Bob thought to

himself, taking over my life, sigh.  It wouldn't be so bad if I got

laid out of all this.  He watched her backside for time as she

flattened the sheets of paper and stacked them neatly for storage.

He looked at the book for a minute and went to the living room.

Dropping into his favorite chair, he opened the book to see what was

in it.  He had to turn on the reading lamp to make out the writing.

At first he thought it was gibberish.  In fact, although he could make

out the characters clearly now, it was in no script or language he'd

ever seen before.  The unusual writing was done in a neat, practiced

hand, with embellishments that came from frequent use. He felt certain

the author had used the letters many times before and was accustomed

to writing in small script.  The book was confusing to thumb through.

After a few pages though it started to make sense, even though he

could still see only nonsense characters.  He went back to the first


He translated the title page loosely in his mind, _being an effort to

document the control of response from experimental subjects_.  As he

read the book, he found the notes documenting symbology for a proposed

language to communicate thought.  This lead to discussion, he thought,

of some kind of experiment to pass ideas to others without speaking.

When he got to the end of the notebook, he vaguely understood the

symbols outlined, but concluded the book was nonsense.  He was still

inclined to keep it, but couldn't say why.

"Well, what is that thing?" Betty's voice came from the door to the


"I think some kid was trying to write some kind of prank about their

science class, you want to look?"

"Sure," she said walking over towards him sensually, the usual fluid

wave motion her hips moved in when she walked.  He still couldn't

understand how she could be so lithe and sexy, yet have no inclination

to arousal. She took the book and opened it to the first page. After

squinting and staring, her tongue lightly caressing her lips as she

obviously struggled to make out the characters.

"What language is this in?"

"I couldn't tell you. Never saw it before in my life."

"I'd say someone was doodling if it weren't so consistent and smoothly


"Well, from what I can make out..."

"What!," She interrupted, "you can read this gibberish?"

"Well, kind of..."

"Oh, sure! and I'm a monkey." She was starting to show severe signs of

mad, "If you never saw anything like it before, you aren't going to

tell me you can read this!" She threw the book at him and stormed out

of the room.  Seductively waving, Bob thought to himself, her little

ass all the way.

Bob sighed. Then he put the book in a storage box in his basement,

along with many other books he figured to have on shelves when they

got built. The box itself got stacked with the rest of the boxes. And

by Saturday, if Bob was asked, he wouldn't remember which.

The book had found itself a new place to hide. If a book could be

believed to have such plans and schemes.


A week or so later, Bob thought about the contents of the book as he

went to talk to his boss at work about getting off friday as

compensation for extra time he'd worked last month.  It never worked

to ask, but he kept trying anyway.

Bob decided to try the symbols in his mind. As he walked into the

office he pushed the idea of the day off towards his boss.

"George, I'd like some of my time back from last month.  I know I'm

salaried, but I keep having to work a lot of extra hours, and it's

getting to be too regular."

"Bob, you come in it seems, every other month or so with this

request." The man at the desk leaned back as if thinking it over. He

always did.

"Yes, but this is getting to be the norm rather than the exception."

Bob had decided to try this approach, but at the same time he reached

out with the book's symbols trying to impress the reasonableness of

his request.

"This time I guess I agree with you," responded George. "Just let

Marcy know. I'm not promising this will happen again though."

Surprised, but not certain how persuasive the symbols from the book

were, as opposed to how George may have simply decided to reward his

hard work, Bob stopped to talk to Marcy. Marcy, the secretary working

with George and his group, made note of the day as a compensation day.


As he walked to the mens room he thought about the results of his

experiment.  It was awfully convenient, possibly coincidental. He

couldn't be sure if something had happened or not.

An extremely attractive blond, willowy figured with her hair in a bun,

and boobs, as Bob thought of them, too large for her frame and

weight, was walking the other way.

Amusing himself, Bob imagined himself reaching out with the symbols of

the book to her. Turn around, he thought, and walk to the storage room

at the end of the hall, get undressed quickly for me...

To his amazement, she smiled coyly at him, spun on her heals and

walked smoothly down the hall to the storage room.  With one hand she

was unhooking her dress, the other was opening the door. Then she was

inside, and Bob was still stunned as he looked down the hall.

He warily stepped down the hall and through the still open door.  The

light was still off, so he flicked the switch as he closed the door

behind him.

Before him, hands on her naked knees, sitting demurely atop her

discarded clothing, she smiled, lightly tilted her head and slowly

pushed her chin forward as if posing for a photographer.

Bob knew this woman.  This was Fran from the purchasing department. He

knew she was married, and confirmed this again by looking at her ring

finger. Sure enough there were two rings, a wedding ring and an

engagement ring.  Her hair still in a bun, she looked about 28 or 29

years old.  Not certain how to approach this opportunity, he stood

taking in the glorious view.

"Do this often?," He finally asked feeling more than a little awkward

and uncertain.

"I just thought it would be nice to let you see how nice I look

without my clothes," then she frowned, one of those little 'how did

that happen' frowns that looks as though it would be nice to have

happen again. "I can't imagine why I've never done this for you

before.  I'd be glad to undress for you any time though."

Bob crossed the room and reached out to touch her breast. Shocked and

startled she slapped his hand away. She shook an attractive finger at


"Look, don't touch," was her pronouncement, "You may see everything

you want, but I'm married."  She slowly got to her feet again and did

a small pirouette as he admired her tight bottom, and large tits. Her

hands caressed both the curve of her hips and the undersides of the

still firm breasts as she turned for him to look.

Bob suddenly felt vaguely guilty, taking advantage of a married woman.

But the thought quickly passed.  Bob brought the symbols back into his

thoughts and pushed thoughts of being aroused towards her. He also

worked in the idea that she would like him to take care of her aroused


"unggghh," she moaned lowly. This time as she turned her eyelids were

gently fluttering to half open and her tongue showed ever so slightly

between her lips. "I think, unggh, you better help me with this..."

she trailed off into another light moan.

This time as he reached out to her breast, she took his hand and led

it directly to the nipple.  Fran immediately shuddered with his touch.

The heat of the act rose in his groin.  Her eyes, a light blue with

touches of silver, opened wide, looking deeply into his.  A groan of

ecstasy crossed her lips. Suddenly her pelvis began to thrust wildly

as she went into orgasm. Fran came quickly, before he could touch more

than her nipple, pulling and pinching it.

To Bob's disappointment, she was now coming down physically from her

sex act. He was still rising.  She folded back into the

kneeling/sitting position on her clothes, panting with the look of

after sex distraction.  Another light shudder from Fran gave Bob

another strong pulsation in his groin.  But he could clearly see she

was spent. He figured he could make her reach that peak again, but

thought he'd like better control over the process.

He realized he didn't quite understand his new found ability yet.  He

would need to try some other way to use it before he did this again.

On the other hand, he thought, Fran will make a great toy while I

learn. He smiled. In her recovery, she curled the corners of her mouth

up in an almost lecherous grin,..  almost.  As one last moan seeped

out, her eyes drooped and her chin strained forward again. God!, she

really responded like dynamite, thought Bob.

"Well," she said, "I'm afraid they'll start missing me soon if I don't

get back. We'll have to find a better way to do this," she coyly

licked her lips looking at him, "I don't know what to tell Joe though,

he won't want me to leave him, but that was better than any orgasm

I've ever had before."

Whooooops, "Why do you need to tell Joe," her husband, he realized.

"Why don't we keep this our secret?"

She pouted. "Oh, but I can't let this stop, its better than I've ever

known it could be. Besides, I need you soo bad, I don't think I can go

without you now."

With this she virtually plastered her body to his and sank her tongue

into his mouth in one pulsating kiss, one hand gently caressing his

crotch through his pants. This served only to remind him that he

hadn't gotten off yet, and was very excited himself.

"Do you think you could take care of my...," he started, and realized

he had a meeting he'd be late for already. He'd miss it completely if

he continued to play. He sighed.

Instead he pushed the thoughts at her that this tryst was their

secret, only they should know about it, and she would forget about any

sexual activities with him when he wasn't around. He add the last for

fear her husband might worm it out of her anyway... as she turned to

leave, he ran his fingers across her breasts, down her side, and

carefully rubbed her bottom, sliding his middle finger along the

crack between her cheeks.  Fran lightly breathed an animalistic

groan as she left.

Somewhat frustrated, but intrigued by this power, he slipped into the

meeting. For effect he projected to everyone that he'd been there all



That night he began to dig through boxes in the basement. If he could

find the book, maybe, just maybe there was something to explain

controlling subjects better.

He dug through the boxes for almost two hours before he finally

found the book.  It was as he remembered it, brown and small. He took

it up to his bedroom to examine.

The rest of the evening Bob spent studying and re-studying the book's

narration.  The symbols became easier to translate, and he found

himself thinking in terms of the symbols rather than english for the

concepts.  He realized it didn't matter because he was never going to

explain these concepts to anyone.  The easier it became to think this

way, the more he could feel the symbols in his head.

Finally, he looked at the clock and saw it was nearly 1:00 AM.  He

needed to work Thursday, and he needed sleep.  Before going to sleep

he decided this book required a good safe place for keeping it. He

didn't want anyone else to see it or get a chance to read it.

The only other person that knew about it was Betty.  Bob figured she'd

shown no interest, and was confused or unable to decipher the symbols.

She'd probably already forgotten it. If she ever asked, he could tell

her the book was thrown out.

It occurred to Bob that if anyone found out what he could do, there

would be problems.  Notorious secret agencies and spies, etc. Suddenly

this became very frightening.  He had no idea who or what would want

to have this knowledge but he could imagine many people that would

kill to get it.

He went to sleep thinking of this.

Not surprisingly, his dreams were filled with hostile agents and 'men

from the government, here to help you'. At one point, Betty was

sucking his cock and saying between licks, "now remember, I agreed to

do this if you just hand over the book."  He woke up startled and

aroused.  It took seconds to see that nobody was in his bedroom with


He managed a shaky shower, dressed, and carefully embedded the book

back into the box in the basement.  If it took him two hours to find

it there, it would be unlikely anyone else would find it quickly

burgling his house.

He ate his breakfast with abandon, and rushed off to work.


It was Thursday and Bob couldn't keep his mind on work.  He thought

about the fun he'd had playing in the storage room with Fran the day

before.  He began to wonder if he could get her there again today.

He wandered by Fran's desk, but she wasn't there.  Asking after her,

he discovered she was out for the morning at a vendor site for

contract work.  Disappointed, he thought about looking around the

building for another prospective subject.

After a moment though, he thought better of the idea and went back to

work. Fran was someone he'd already touched.  It might be a good idea

to use only the subject he already had worked on before moving to

someone else. So instead he wrapped himself in the design he was

working up and shortly, was very involved.

After rereading a new section he'd written, he looked up and around

the office. Something different was going on in his mind today.

He looked an Randi, the brunette across the aisle from him. He could

see, at least in his mind, the book's symbols moving through her mind.

With a little effort he could make out her thoughts, piecemeal, as she

worked.  A stream of ideas and actions melded together as Randi worked

her project.  He wondered if he could just block them for a moment.

As as he thought of this, he tried it. He instinctively knew which

symbol to use and where to insert it. He realized after he'd done it

that he'd intended to behave himself until Fran was back. Well, after

all, my patience is thin today, he thought.

Meanwhile, Randi, had sat back and looked stumped.  She started to

scowl. The same problem kept spinning in the patterns in her mind, and

every time the solution she'd been working towards came up, Bob's

symbol blocked it out.  He grinned to himself, and withdrew the

symbol.  She immediately smiled to herself and scrambled to commit the

solution to paper.

Bob remembered Randi at a party he'd had for the office.  His house

was a mess afterwards, and she'd attended with a skinny bookish

fellow.  She'd kept that guy on a short leash all night.  In fact the

only time he saw the guy away from her was when he'd gone to the can.

Bob looked at Randi closely as though for the first time. Her hair was

down to her shoulders with decorative clips one either side above her

ears.  Today she was wearing a trousers and blouse combination.

Faintly, through the blouse, he could see a thin bra, although he

couldn't make out her nipples.  Her breasts were small, but round

enough to give her more than a boyish shape. She had dark eyes with a

thin nose nestled between and below. Her lips were moist and smooth

with just a touch of teeth or tongue occasionally showing as she

appeared to mutter to herself.

Bob checked the time. Fran wouldn't be back yet for two more hours.

Since he was toying with Randi now, well, what the heck.  He started

to examine her closely to see what the symbols looked like when she


He discovered there was more than one stream of thought in process.

Apparently, most of the nervous system was passing symbols about. He

wondered that so many streams could run at once, but the conscious

stream was the strongest, most active. He tried inserting an itch

sensation into the stream from her shoulder.

Immediately, without dropping any other activity, Randi began to

scratch her shoulder. He dropped the sensation and she stopped


Now, that was something! He pushed a tickle and tingle sensation into

her nipples.  He was satisfied to see them pop visibly hard under her

blouse and bra.  She took in a sharp breath but continued to work,

resisting the new urge to pay attention to the arousal of her tits.

The result seemed to enhance her state so she began to squirm a bit in

her seat.  A bead of sweat rolled down to her eyebrows.

Now Bob was excited.  He wanted to see if her could make her orgasm

publicly without any contact.  So now he reached out into her body to

stimulate the nerves in her crotch.  Without dropping the manipulation

of her tits, he moved to a sensation from the lips of her pussy, to

the clit itself, gently increasing the strength without controlling

any other body functions.

She visibly lost her concentration on the project now.  Looking around

she saw Bob looking at her, and developed a look of panic.  Her breath

was coming in panting rhythm and her hips had begun a slight sway.  She

clearly suffered embarrassment at her sudden loss of control. He saw

her suppress a moan.  He kept moving the sensations and increasing the

strength.  He eyelids drooped, her tongue moistened her lips and she

began to stretch her head and neck from side to side.

Randi turned red with obvious embarrassment.  Amused, Bob shot her his

best quizzical look.  Her stifled moans were turning into sharp grunts.

Her hand moved to her crotch.  Seemingly she struggled, twisting in

her chair a few moments, hoping to suppress the unexpected bodily

activity. It was hopeless though.  She gave in to her body and slipped

the hand into her pants.  Bob could only see her arm go under the

desk, but he knew exactly what she was fingering.  Looking around to

see if anyone else could see, Randi gave up the idea of keeping Bob

from seeing her condition. A moment later her other hand caressed and

twisted her nipples, allowing Bob a view of her delicately red painted


She came with a loud thump, almost convulsively, as she suppressed as

much sound as she could, jamming her fist in her mouth, her teeth

biting down on the knuckles. The stifling little gasps and sobs that

followed were a delight to Bob's ears.

As she finished Randi hung her head to her chest, tucked her feet

under the chair spreading her knees, both hands embraced the desk

about 4 feet apart.  She gasped in the air to stabilize her body. Her

hair curtained her face.

Finally, after regaining some composure, she looked up at Bob. He was

still watching her with an intensity given of a man who was horny.

"I don't know what came over me," again she flushed with embarrassment.

"I found that very exciting, myself. Do you have this happen often?"

he asked as innocently as possible.  He really didn't want to give

himself away.  Looking at the clock, he realized that this had only

used 15 minutes of the 2 hours before Fran returned.  An hour and

three quarters remained. Should he take Randi, certainly not here,

but should he take her, too?

"You certainly got a cheap thrill at my expense then, didn't you?!" she

snapped, anger rising in her.

"Don't blame me, I never touched you or even got close."

"Yeah," she eased back. "I guess I lost control. That never happened

to me before!"

"You have a boyfriend?, I mean do you get enough or maybe do you get

excited sensually by yourself when you aren't getting any?"

"I just broke up with John. I don't need to, um, get any, to be just

fine thank you."  That did it.  He looked for the stream from her eyes

and added a touch of excitement to it whenever she looked his way.

Just a touch.

"Well, I can't figure it out, but I really liked watching you."

"Look you, I don't need you watching me masturbate at work," then she

looked at him again, and this time she half lurched. "on the other

hand..." She had that look of realization cross her face. That look

someone gets as if seeing something they've seen before in a whole new

light. "Um, let's not talk about this now, okay?"

"Okay." he replied. "Instead, let's find a place to fuck."

"Whatever do you think I am!?," He reached under her conscious

controls and planted suggestions to meet him in the storage room in 5

minutes. "Some kind of whore?  You animal , Bob, you'd better leave me

alone or so help me, you'll never hear the end of this."

"Okay Randi, but don't blame me if you can't control those spontaneous

orgasms.  You did so well with that last one, I hardly noticed. By the

way, I'll try the storage room and wait there for you."

Humiliated by her own body, she turned away from him in anger. He just

got up and walked down the hall to the storage room to wait.  "You'll

wait a long time," she called out to him.

Shortly after he'd closed the door, Randi came storming in. He tried

to look a little surprised, after all she thought he'd been told off.

"What are you doing?," she demanded.

"What do you mean?" Again he reached under the conscious level and

instructed her body to find the clothing very uncomfortable in his


"Whatever makes you think I'd want to screw a twerp like you!?" That

stung, but he was in control of what her body was doing, she was still

only acting out rage at being caught in a public orgasm.

She turned towards the door.  Instead of exiting though, she took off

her shoes and started unbuttoning the pants.

Bob reached around her and began to play with her nipples through the

blouse. He tweaked the body controls to prevent her from stopping him.

Her body went loose from the arousal.

"You are making it difficult to undress, jerk. Why am I undressing?"

She was startled to find her body was still not following the

conscious decisions she made to avoid this encounter.

He withdrew his hands and took off his clothing, then locked the door.

It hadn't occurred to him anyone would bother them, but what the heck.

"I really don't want to do this Bob." Randi continued to protest as

she fondled his now rigid manhood.

"Your lying. Now maybe since you used the term, I'll just call you a

whore when we're in private."

She was clearly stunned at the abusive tone he'd begun to take. But

she knelt down and tenderly licked his prick. Rubbing the flat sides

of her teeth along the length of it she also began playing with his


"You must be some kind of whore, or you wouldn't have come straight

here to be fucked" Bob reiterated, pushing the humiliation buttons in

her head too.  She opened her beautiful moist lips and engulfed the

head of his penis.  Although not 'hung' as porn stars, Bob had a good

sized cock, about 6+7 inches long, but thicker than most. She

struggled trying to get it all the way back to her throat.  He could

feel her tongue wrapping lightly around the glans as she closed her

eyes and tried to vacuum an eruption from him.

Bob could feel motion build inside himself as he pressed her head

against his cock.  Her lips and teeth continued to reach for the root

of the organ, and he could see that she was starting to become aroused

again herself.

He pulled out of her mouth.

"Stand up, lean against the shelves over there." He pointed out a low

shelf that would force her into a bent in the middle position.

"No fucking way, you animal, I don't want to do this with you."

"I'm not keeping you here, by all means leave," he lied. She could no

more leave now than he could fly.  She couldn't tell that though.

Meekly, she assumed the position he suggested.

"Okay, but try not to hurt me." she was resigned to this performance.

He had to do something to perk her up, so he planted the same raging

heat in her that made her come at her desk. "hnuhn" came moaning from

her now as he touched her.  He guided his prick into her cunt while

she clutched the shelf with her hands. A throaty, "yesssss" rewarded

his penetration.  He began to pump away, slowly at first and then

faster. She continued to "yesss" and "unngg ooooh, plleeeease" as he

thrust in again and again. He reached under her as his hips whacked

her ass, and found her little tits.

A sharp twist of the nipples generated another series of outrageous

moaning from his personal whore. She began to come. Her pelvis humped

as hard as it could against his manhood.  She suppressed the scream

into an almost barking cough, but he didn't let up. He forced her body

right back into aroused state by pushing the correct symbols back in

place. Already exhausted, she pumped with the adrenaline of another

rising orgasm.

Up from his scrotum built a liquid fire sensation that he'd never felt

before.  He didn't stop pumping the liquid fire into her for what

seemed like forever.  He finally pulled out washed with pleasure and

joy.  That was his first fuck in almost a year.

"Happy you scum?" She was flushed with that freshly fucked look, but

still was hostile consciously about what was happening.  He found that

exciting too.

"Lick me clean, whore." She shook her head, but to her own amazement

was soon carefully washing his cock and balls of her juices and his

come, with her tongue.

"I don't know why I did this with you," she worked in between licks,

"But you better not tell anyone or so help me..."

"Come to my house after work tomorrow." He answered. He simply added

this as an unconscious command rather than justify himself verbally.

This could be real fun.  I gotta do Fran today too, he thought.

"No fuckin' way, bastard," she continued to lick.  He was up again and

pulled her face into his prick. She opened her mouth and took it in

again with a little maneuvering.  Her tongue felt good working the

seam on the bottom, and before he knew it, the come spurted into her

mouth, and as he pulled out, all over her face.

"Now look what you've done!" she snapped.

"Hard to avoid with your pretty little whore face. Before you leave

hadn't you better get dressed." She snarled in his general direction

as she pulled on her pants. He walked up behind her while she snapped

them closed, and took the opportunity for another grasp at those lovely

little tits. "You also best admit you are my whore to use, or everyone

in the office will hear, and maybe several others will take turns


She blanched. "I,uh,I..." She realized she couldn't let anyone know

she'd done this. She might lose her job.  How could she have allow Bob

the liberties he'd just taken with her?

"Come on slut, you can say it. Tell me you're my property and you

really want to be my whore."

"Fuck you!" she was confused still over her bodily responsiveness.

"Tut tut, you could be in the sack with someone really repulsive if

you keep that up."

"I'm your fuckin' whore, goddamnit"

"Not good enough, bitch." He waited, brutally twisting her nipples now

to stress the point.  He could see the shot of pain/pleasure rise

through her chest to her throat.  To her astonishment the humiliation

was beginning to excite her too. She couldn't tell this had been Bob's

doing also.

"I'm your whore, your personal slut." she finally got out in a demure,

half seductive, half aroused voice.

"Fine, I'll expect you at seven tomorrow. Come dressed nicely."  She

slipped away finally and Bob pulled his own clothes on. He relished

the thought of having Randi and Fran at his beck and call.


He stopped by Purchasing that afternoon.  Randi had been avoiding his

eyes since this morning, but he knew she'd show up Friday night.  It

was time to get Fran in line as well.

This time the blond was sitting at her desk.  Her lovely lips moved as

she spoke into the phone.  He could make out her nipples through the

blouse and bra she wore.  He slipped up behind her and leaned across

her shoulders.  Her cleavage was unstable as she moved her shoulders

back so he'd get a better view. She smiled up at him and licked her

lips as she spoke to someone apparently chasing a Purchase Order.

He could easily make out his control symbols imposed on her

personality.  Yesterday, he'd been pretty clumsy with the process,

but today he could see more subtle paths to manipulate the responses.

He spent a few minutes adjusting her view of him as her secret lover,

and her assumptions about what he was entitled to do. Of course, he

left the control that she'd forget about all this when not with him.

He looked around. Her low cubical walls wouldn't hide much, but no one

was around. He slid his hand inside and down the back of her skirt,

slipping a finger into the crack of her ass. She frantically looked

around to reassure herself no one was watching, but kept talking on the


After fingering Fran for a moment, with the delight catches in her

breath while she spoke on the phone, Bob decided they should retire to

a more private location.  He scribbled a note, 'when you get free,

call me'. Before he left he gently palmed both of her breasts and

tweaked the nipples, this elicited a moan she had to cover the phone

to conceal. She looked at the note and nodded.

He wanted to take her right there while she was on the phone, those

big tits were so damned tempting, and the idea of putting her through

the paces while talking on the phone really turned him on. He would

wait though until she called. He went back to his desk.

Shortly the phone rang.  Fran for certain.

"Hiya," nope it was Betty. "I need to you remember to get some glue

for that project I'm working on."

"Right, uh, Betty could you come by on Saturday instead of tomorrow

night," he had completely forgotten their date, "something came up."

"Well, if you say so, what's doing?"

"Um, I gotta see Ben," yeah that's it, "He's going to help me rebuild

the speakers for my stereo."

"Oh." the pause wasn't too long, "Okay, be there in the morning then.

Ta!"  Click!

Before he could pin down when she'd come by, she'd disconnected. Shit.

He wasn't sure he wanted to adjust her to conceal knowledge of his new

pets.  He was beginning to suspect the adjustments should be much more

subtle than he'd managed so far... then the phone range again.


"Bob, this is Fran," she didn't sound too busy to provide the service

he needed now. "Why am I supposed to call you?"

Ooops, he thought.

"We're supposed to meet this afternoon." he waited with concern.

"Why?, I don't handle purchases for your group any more. And there's

nothing on this note to indicate we were to meet."

Bob suppressed a rising panic.  The symbols had failed to hold! Wait!

the instructions she was given were valid when they were together! She

just didn't see them being together right now, so of course she was

forgetting everything.  He tried to reach out over to her through the

phone.  All he could sense was a wisp of the symbols, and even that

wasn't over the phone, it was through the building... What to do?

"Tell you what, I'll come to your desk and explain it to you."

"That'll do, bring the paperwork for whatever this is about, and we'll

figure out who should really be taking care of you." click! He'd show

her who should take care of him!

"Hey Randi," he called across to the brunette. She looked up, somewhat

apprehensive, remembering her unwilling pleasure that morning. "Look

after my phone for a while, I'm going to see someone in purchasing."

She nodded. For the sake of the leisure fun of it he inserted a

suggestion in her to slip off to the woman room to masturbate again,

thinking of course of him. He stopped at her desk a moment, long

enough to see her eyes pick up the lustful droop and her nipples

harden up in response.  She looked up at him.

"Oh no," she had a bit of panic as well as lust in her voice, "Bob,

its happening again" this last she whispered, but followed with a


"Maybe you better go to the can for some privacy this time, whore."

She scrambled to her feet and started down the corridor.  He could

see her buns squeezing together in spasms of anticipation.

When he got to Fran's desk, she had on a pair of glasses and was

gripping a pencil between her luscious lips as she typed at her

terminal.  Seeing him, her eyes widened, the pencil dropped, and she

reached up to take off the glasses.

"Leave them on," he told her, "they look sexy. Now, why don't you get

us a nice private conference room for the next hour." She smiled,

nodded and started calling the secretary that booked the conference


While she did this Bob concentrated on another problem.  He needed to

implant some code that he could use on the phone to get her attention.

He did so, using a phrase that would seem to make sense to anyone

that overheard, "purchase order 002x". Fit her job, somewhat, but bore

no resemblance to a real PO number.

He saw several other people working in her area now, so he would have

to wait until they reached the conference room to play.  Bob clasped

his hands behind his back and waited patiently.  Soon Fran's phone

calls came up with a private site.

"Mr Gunderson is out of town today. His secretary took the day off

and his office is listed as available to the end of the day. I took

the liberty of reserving it for the rest of the day..." She looked to

him for approval.

"I'll meet you there in 5 minutes." as he walked away, she cleaned up

the task she'd been working on before he'd gotten to her.

The walk to Gunderson's office took him past the women's room. He

paused and listened.  He could hear Randi clearly making herself come

again. She was talking to herself though, "fuck that bastard, how dare

he use me like that, uhnng! uhnnng! uhnng!, who does, uhnng!, he think

he is?...unhhnhg!! God he was good!, nnnng  unnggg innna aaaaah!"

He pulled open the door and called in, "Only a whore makes so much

noise, right Randi?"

"uhnhhg!," came the response.

He continued on.

When he got to Gunderson's office one of the other secretaries

unlocked the door for him. She was familiar, but he'd no idea who she

was. Nice legs, he thought, I like the twinkle in her eyes. Behave, he

told himself, Fran will be here soon.

As if to make the point, he saw her down the hall now.  She'd left her

glasses on, nice touch.  Her legs were visible from the knees down.

Today she had on a short skirt, a fairly flimsy white blouse, and the

nicest red high heel shoes.  He reflected a moment on how nice Fran's

legs looked while she wore high heels. Come to think of it, she had

some really attractive ankles too.  Good choice of toy, even if he'd

selected her as much by accident as anything else.

She stepped into the office ahead of him, snarling a little. "yes,

this should do." With a wave of her hand she dismissed the secretary,

who wandered down to the desk at the end of the hall as he watched.

"You can't have both of us you know," he heard her say. If only she

knew. Of course he could. But he was going to wait until he had this

power under complete control before he added anyone else to his toy


He stepped in and closed the door.

"Darling, I could hardly wait to see you again." She stepped forward

assuming perfectly her role as secret lover. "Do you still like what

you see?" Her face smoothly adopted an approval begging pout. Her

tongue licking her lips, with anticipation.  She brushed back a wisp

of silky blond hair and sulkily drew her fingers down her neck, along

her collar bone to the valley between her boobs. Then she traced a

path with her her palm over the right tit, finishing by drawing her

hand down the sleek side of her body to her hip.

She stood in the middle of a large office with drawn blinds, a big

clean oak desk, and to one side was a couch suitable to the exercise

they would soon perform. The lush carpeting made the room very still.

He appreciated that immediately.

He walked around her slowly, admiring her large bust, and tight tush.

She stood posed for him, arms at her side palms out, elbows in. Her

long slender legs were only slightly parted, with her left knee bent

as though she was waiting for a photographer.

"Remain standing like that." He felt somewhat inspired by this goddess

vision before him. Her tits thrust forward so the little points and

the surrounding circles of her nipples stood out through her blouse

and bra. With a single finger he reached out to the left breast and

flicked the tip offered to him. The nipple rose further against the

restraining cloth.

"ooohh," she licked her lips again as her eyes faded to passion.

Whispering she uttered, "god, I love your touch."

"Move an inch and I'll have to punish you." Stepping behind her, he

hiked up her dress to her waist. He could see the cheeks of her ass

twitching from the hairsbreadth contact he'd made.  Her breath caught

as he traced circles lazily on her right cheek over her panties.

"I don't like you wearing underwear when we meet." She flushed red for

a moment.

"Yes, lover. I'll remember to take them off before we meet next time."

He smiled at her response.

"And perhaps you should refer to me as Master, rather than Lover."

"But Bob," he waved her to silence.

"NO buts!, what I say goes, do we understand each other?"

"Yes master." She smiled but kept her stance as he had commanded


Pulling the elastic of her panties and stockings back, he slid his

right hand down along the crack between her ass cheeks.  Standing at

her left shoulder he could see her chin quiver with excitement at his


"What do we have here, toy?" She shuddered at this description of her


"My ass.... master." Her head started to droop to her chest, but she

remembered before he said anything. Her head snapped back up, but her

eyes remained faded away as he touched her. He began to work his

middle finger into her asshole.  She squeaked.

"Master, no I, uh, I don't like being touched there." She remained

true to her instructions but a strong apprehensive look came over her

face.  Bob reached out with the symbols to the stream from her ass. He

could see it in his mind, she was only receiving pain messages from

the pucker his finger had invaded.  He adjusted the stream a bit so

the pleasant sensations, which were there but blocked, became far

stronger.  The pain sensations ebbed completely on their own.  For a

moment, Bob allowed himself to be pleased with what he'd learned.

"unhh, ooh!" Fran muttered as she began now to thrust her anus onto

his finger. "God! give me more, I beg master, fuck me, I need to


Still standing poised as though for a picture, Fran looked delectable

this way. All Bob had was two knuckles up her ass, yet she was visibly

shaking, having a hell of a time keeping her breasts jutting out and

hands open and out at her side.  He could see her legs trying to raise

and drop her bottom onto his teasing finger, as she also tried to

squeeze her thighs together to get relief for her crotch as well.  He

rather enjoyed the way her tongue kept trying to hang from the corners

of her mouth, and the bobbing motion her head had begun to make.

He withdrew his finger.

"Oh, pleease master, I want to come." She panted.

"Well, I think you can wait." He sat down on the edge of the couch,

and listened to her ravaged breathing as she stood before him, still as

he commanded. "Undress for me, slowly."

She moved gracefully to face him and began by unbuttoning her skirt.

After this dropped to the floor, she undid the buttons on her blouse,

one by one, watching him the entire time. Standing before him in her

Bra, panties, stockings and high heeled shoes, she lifted one leg at a

time to remove the shoes. Turning away, and looking at him over her

shoulder, she began to remove the straps of her bra, then undid the

clasp, dropping it well to one side before turning. She showed him the

huge, fleshy breasts, holding one in each hand, pinching her own

nipples between thumbs and forefingers.  Awkwardly, she stepped out of

the panties and stockings last.

"Now come over here, undo my pants and blow me." She knelt down

between his legs and with both hands, with worshipful tenderness

unzipped his pants, pulling out his dick. As she held his cock in her

hand it became harder than it already had been. Now Bob leaned back as

she wrapped her lips briefly around the tip and licked the underside

of the head.

"Oh, yeah baby. That's what I need, some tender affection to my prick.

ahhhh." Her mouth began to engulf more of the object of her new desire

each time she leaned forward until he had struck the rear teeth. "Open

wider bitch, get it all down!" he commanded.

"MMMrgph!" was her only reply as her fingers worked the base of his

prick, and aroused his balls. She drove the cock into her throat. Wide

as his prick was, this was far less than an easy task.  He saw her

determined look as her tongue finally started to wash his flopping

balls and upper lip reached the root of his cock.  She began to pump

up and down, three, four time, pause, pump again.

"Ungh!, Ungh!, Ungh!, " he uttered with each stroke. As his come

started to rise in his balls he stopped her, "Up." he commanded.

Staggering to his feet he arranged her on the floor, shapely legs

parted for his entry, and had her grasp her knees.  He entered Fran

for the first time to the sound of her groaning pleasure.

"ooohhh, god, oohh, god, oh, god!" she moaned and made animalistic

guttural grunts as he thrust his meat as deep as he could manage. She

was tight enough for him to feel a grip to her. But her cunt was also

soaking wet by now.

Her pelvis was pulsing with his motions now as much as she could

manage without losing him. She clearly wanted to scream as she clamped

her teeth down on her hand.  Bob could feel Fran's orgasm come in a

shuddering quake that started at her crotch and expanded to encompass

her entire body.  Once she'd come though, she kept moving, building

another from the ashes of the last... His orgasm started to build too,

and as she approached her second, his cock loosed a torrent of come

into her dripping hot cunt. He smothered her lips with his, forcing

his tongue past hers to explore those pearly teeth she'd been licking

to entice him earlier.

She came again squealing into his mouth as he finished, pounding

against the floor so hard, Bob was certain someone would hear and

investigate.  But he was to far gone to care about interruptions now.

He rolled off and looked at this woman, glowing with joy and sexual

pleasure.  She struggled, staggering a bit, to her knees and began to

suck him again, cleaning the fluids off as she went.  To his surprise,

this made his cock rise from retirement. He enjoyed the sensations her

tongue, lips and teeth gave him until he was stiff as when he first

entered her.

"Now, you will remain kneeling but lower your shoulders to the floor."

He moved to his knees and worked around behind her. Juices from her

cunt had dribbled down to her ass pucker, she wouldn't need much more

moisture, especially since she'd lubricated his cock with her mouth.

He spread her cheeks and began rubbing her anus with his cock's

tip. This aroused her a bit. Just as his finger had earlier, now that

he'd 'adjusted' her response. Bob grinned to himself.

As he pressed the head of his penis into her ass, she moaned into the

rug. It took work to move in, even with her help, but inch by inch he

slid into her ass. "no, aaahh, no, yessssss," she groaned. "my god, I

can't believe I'm getting it up up up... mmmmunnnngh, my, goddam ass!"

He finally drove the last inch home, she lifted her head in surprise

and pleasure.  He started the first pull back and she started to cry

out "More, pleeassee fuck my ass, god yesss god yesss god yesss!" and

he built up the speed, little at a time.

She moved her hand to her clit and rubbed her pussy lips as well.

Leaning against her right ear, she used her other hand to pull and

pinch her nipple on the left side.  She shuddered with orgasm, and

stifled the scream for another. Bob could tell another was

coming soon.

Bob had built up to his own release by now. The heat in his loins was

strong and rising.  The pressure was pushing, and the tightness of her

butt was pure heaven.  Coming in her ass with a stream of jism, he

grunted his own pleasure in thumping motions.

Pulling out was a sensation in pleasure too, his cock felt like it was

being milked for any extra drops left in the tip. He drew aside on the

couch, still panting, and admired the cum dripping down Fran's legs.

Fran cleaned herself and sank into the couch beside Bob. She snuggled

in like an adolescent lover, and radiated an after sex joy he hadn't

seen a woman display for quite some time.  Bob just relaxed and

enjoyed her proximity, playing from time to time with her nipples.

Checking his watch, Bob realized the work day was at an end and

someone might interrupt at any time. Instructing Fran to get dressed,

he thought about his plans for the weekend.

"Fran, listen carefully."

"Yes master!"

"Tomorrow evening, you will find an excuse to leave home. I want you

at my house promptly at 6:30 PM. Got that!?"

"Yes master."  She pouted for a moment, then grinned.  "My girlfriends

are having a party.  I'll be gone most of the night I guess."

"Very good.  Do you have any good slutty clothing?"

"I don't know what you mean, I don't have slutty things."

Of course she wouldn't he thought. "Do you own any slinky seductress

outfits?  Perhaps a french maid outfit?"

"Oh yes master!" She positively beamed, her pink tongue slightly

touching her lips in anticipation.

"Bring them with you tomorrow. Tidy this place up before you leave,

and remember we had a very productive meeting if anyone should ask..."

Silently, he reinforced his instructions underneath her conscious

mind and slipped out of the office.

He was delighted with the results of his new powers so far, now if

only it works as well on Betty. But Friday night was going to be

delightful, possibly exhausting as well.


Part 2

                       _A Weekend by the Book_

				section (a)

Those wonderful, slightly chill mornings with the birds chirping

noisily outside his bedroom window always made Bob want to stay in

bed.  The silky touch of his comforter against his naked legs was a

sensual pleasure he enjoyed almost as much as sex itself.  He hadn't

opened his eyes yet, and wasn't sure he wanted to.

He was lingering over the dream he'd had as he awoke, a dream in soft

cushioned heavens with a soft supple woman he'd never seen before.

Literally an angel, wings although no halo, she'd taken him to the

peaks of ecstasy in his dream.  He could remember a ledge, and

clouds, but very little else.  The haze of passing dream memory made

her even more attractive as his wakening mind tried to recreate the

lushness of their acts together.

He finally rose from bed, and happily relished the fact of today as a

holiday.  Looking at the clock, he could tell he'd slept a sinful

extra half hour to almost 8:00 AM.

He leaned against the wall in the shower. The water flowed in little

waterfalls over his shoulders, arms, and chest.  This sensation also

gave a smooth relief of pleasure, while he reflected back on the

preceding day's activities.  He wanted to believe it wasn't all a

dream, along with the angelic visitor of his sleep.  He knew it wasn't

because despite the free fall way his life had become, he could see

the symbols. The Book's symbols. He saw the passage of the symbols

along his own legs and arms, even the tiny streams along the surface

of his skin.  They paralleled the streams of water, glistening in the

morning light.

He finished the shower knowing today would be another shining wonder

in his life.

Bob dressed in his jeans and a tee-shirt, ate breakfast, and cleaned

the mess from breakfast. It was about 9:00 and he needed to run some

errands at the stores and the mall.


He did some grocery shopping first. The supplies were to last him the

next week, but Bob wanted to be prepared for the possible activities,

so he stocked up more heavily than usual.  After he paid, it occurred

to him, payment was totally unnecessary.  He was glad he'd paid


After unloading the groceries at home, he grabbed his speakers,

shoved them in the car and drove to his friend Ben's stereo repair

shop.  They'd been performing poorly for a month or so.  He hadn't

meant to get them fixed today, but his lie to Betty had to be made


He went in the store from the back door. Ben owned the shop, although

he was the service expert as well.  None of his employees could hold a

candle to his talents with electronics.  Ben was proud of his high

school buddy.

"Ben," Bob's friend was about 6 feet tall, 4 inches shorter than Bob,

with a dark complexion and a pudgy tummy. "how long to fix these?"

"Bob! Let's see," He picked up one of the boxes, "It'll take a while

to get you an estimate, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, I've got a woman coming over tonight," he looked around

quickly and gave Ben one of those 'manly' knowing looks, "it's not

Betty and I don't want her to know.  I told her you were going to help

me with these..."

"Geeze Bob", shaking his head, Ben opened the backs of the speakers

to examine them, "you know I'll help if I can, but man, I don't know

whats wrong without checking these out first."

"I know, I know.  Just tell me what you can do."

"So your working on two babes at once, eh?"

"Well, let's just say I've lucked into some nice ass while Betty is

stringing me along..."

"You know, if you're horny, we can work something out with Janet."

Janet was Ben's wife.  Ben and Janet had an open arrangement, partly

because Ben got off on seeing his wife with another man.  Bob hadn't

liked the idea before, especially since Janet really didn't like Bob

much.  He wasn't sure why, he figured it had something to do with Bob

dragging Ben off to poker games occasionally.  "I know she doesn't

like you much, but if I talk to her, she'll do just about anything."

"Actually Ben, I think I could talk her into spreading for me without

your help. I'm just not so sure its a real good idea."

Ben snorted out a laugh.  He'd gotten both speakers open by now, and

had to step back while laughing so as to avoid damage.

"Forgive me Bob," he wiped his eyes and suppressed, badly, the huge

grin creeping across his face.  "Janet would do it if I asked, not for

any other reason.  I've had to put up with her bitching about you."

"Oh?" Ben was curious, "What IS her complaint with me anyway?"

"She thinks you are not good enough to be my friend.  She keeps

telling me you haven't got enough class, you abuse our friendship,

you spend too much time drinking and crap like that."  Well, at least

the drinking wasn't true.

"So?, why'd she marry you then?, you and I move in the same circles,

so to speak."

"I dunno.  She fell head over heels in love or lust or somethin'."

"I'll tell you what Ben.  I'll bet you double or nothing the cost of

the repair, I go to your house and fuck her silly while you wait


"You think so!? I'll bite, what's the gimmick?  You get some film of

her doing something you can blackmail her with?  Fat chance!"

"Nothing like it.  I'll even get her to call you to talk while I'm

making her, how's that?"

"Oh, man, I'd love that. I'd fix your speakers for nuthin' just for

the opportunity to watch or listen to her being humped, and you know

it.  It ain't gonna happen though."

"Okay, you got it! I'm on my way."

"You sure you don't want me to call her first?  She really doesn't like

you much. I wasn't kidding."

"I don't care if she throws darts at my photo in your wedding pics.

She'll beg for a repeat performance when you get home."

"Shit." was the last word from Ben before Bob left.

Bob glowed inside with the knowledge he couldn't lose this bet, and

Ben wouldn't be hurt by his project.  Every encounter gave him extra

valuable knowledge, and this would be no different.


Bob got to Ben's house at 10:20 AM. The house was an old two story,

fairly attractive in light blue.  Bob smiled at the sight of the white

picket fence around the yard.  The house was on a corner and he'd

never quite got into the habit of walking all the way around the

corner to the front gate. He usually parked around the side by the

back of the house.

Once again, he jumped the fence. Musing, he figured this was easily

another influence effecting why Janet didn't like him as any.

He walked through the back porch door, and rang the bell next to the

kitchen door.  Reaching out, he could feel the symbols down the

basement.  She was coming up the stairs, he judged, and had seen him

jump the fence through the basement window.  He could feel her ankles

rise and drop climbing each step. She radiated symbols strongly

shouting 'disapproval'.

The door opened, and there, in a glorious ray of sunlight, stood

Janet. She was about 5 foot 8 inches. Her slightly auburn hair was

nicely set off by her freckles. She had a hostile frown on her plush

lips and the wrinkles around her eyes show more concern than he'd

remembered being there. Dressed in a sweat suit for house work, he

could only see some of her curves he had admired in the past.  He

knew her chest was larger than her frame would suggest, and her

slender legs rivaled those of the best dancers.  He was somewhat

curious as to the color of pubic hair in the past, and figured he'd

find out today for certain.

The moment taken up by reflection passed.  She began an irritated

pout, and brushed back her hair.

"So Bob!" she spurted out. "To what do I owe this visit? I know you're

aware that Ben is at work."

He stepped past her, and he spoke, "I know, just came from his shop. I

never did find out why you let him work there, since you guys have all

that money from your father."  She followed him to the living room,

where as Bob recalled, there was a perfectly comfortable lounge chair

with a phone on the table next to it. Excellent, he thought.

"He needs to work, to keep his hands busy, you know that." snarling.

"Yep," he grinned lecherously, "keeps his hands off you, I'm sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I made a bet with Ben, that I'd seduce you today."

She stared dumbstruck at him for a minute, then laughed hysterically.

Bob just waited, knowing with his new talent, nothing she did would

stop him from taking her. She finally collapsed in the chair, and

calmed herself a bit.

"You know, even if you had any chance before," she still giggled

between words, "you couldn't do it now that you've warned me. You

might as well leave now."

"I don't think there'll be a problem.  Before you know it, you'll want

me in you so bad you won't care about the bet at all."

"You're pretty sure of yourself for someone so full of shit." she

crossed her arms over her chest, allowing him some view of the curves

concealed by the sweat shirt. "You are beginning to get me pissed, and

believe me, that ain't gonna help a sorry little sot like you get

anywhere." She grinned in a sadistic manner, "besides I've screwed

just about everyone else Ben knows, at his request I might add, and he

has never, thank the heavens, asked me to do anything with you. If he

does, it will be the first and only time I refuse. It might be the

grounds for our divorce, happy though he makes me otherwise." It was

clear she thought she'd stung him.

Bob finally started exerting some changes in the thought streams her

body was using. As he laughed back, he insinuated the tendrils of

pleasure up through her thighs and along the back of her neck.

"I think you will shortly find your opinion unreliable, even for your

own judgment of your own actions..." He reached directly to the nerve

streams her groin used and slid the symbols in that caused sexual

heat to rise from within. "Shall we get started or would you like to

deny your own body's lust a while longer?"

She twisted head to the side a bit, gritting her teeth. "How do you

expect me to be aroused by such a lousy approach?"

"Actually, I've suspected for some time you want me. You always react

hostily to me, but I always suspected you want to cajole me into

sexual action with you. Ben may have his desires, this struck me as

one of yours." Of course, he knew she was being aroused by his mental

manipulation of her nervous system, but he wanted her consciousness to

believe she'd simply suppressed her desires.

"You're nuts," by this time he'd sent a few tingles through her cunt

lips, and clit, she was twisting in the lounge chair trying not to

show her arousal, "you are imagining things. "

Bob began to undress. His penis was nestled, retracted, in amongst his

balls. As the hanging silence became more pronounced, he knelt before

her, and pulled her running shoes off. By now, her head was lolling

back and a few drops of sweat were rolling off her forehead. He could

make out the pale bottom of her chin as he rolled her sweat pants down

her legs. "Unngh oooohh," she loosed the groans with reluctant

acknowledgment of her heightened state of arousal. Her panties, a

pale pink frilly pair, wet and smelling uniquely of woman, came off

through his administration next.

"I can't, aahh, be so, eeaa, so hot, gggnnn, hot from arggggg, arguing

with yyyaaahhh, you.... oh god yes" he was gently tickling the lips of

her pussy with his fingers. He had a fine view now of her luscious

slender legs, which were stretching out to point the toes in pulsing

motions. "ggnnnnggoooood, oooohhh mooorre"

He lifted the sweat shirt up over her breasts. Delightfully, her

melon sized boobs were unencumbered by a bra.  The lovely freckles,

so attractive on her countenance, also graced the pale skin of her

tits.  He could almost see little circles form by the little dots

as the two orbs bounced and wobbled from the motions Janet was now


"Lift your arms." She did as instructed and he pulled off the top over

her head.  Her hair, fell through the neck of the sweat shirt, almost

in slow motion, gliding across her smooth, naked shoulders.  He felt

his own arousal as his prick began to stiffen.

"Oh Bobbbb," she had now yielded to his physical advances. He stroked

the nipples of one tit, watching it grow to attention as he sucked

the other nipple into his mouth, teasing it inside with his tongue.

"oh yessss, suck me, suck suck suck... me" her lithe fingers stroked

through his hair, smoothing the errant strays while pulling, and

sinking his head into the breast he was attacking.  He blocked the

orgasm he saw developing in her, coming mostly from the stimulation

of her breasts.

He had a call to make first.

"Mmnnph!," he pulled back against the pressure of both of her arms

now. God!, she's strong, he thought. "pick up the phone, call Ben."

"Unnh, don't stop. don't don't." she muttered, apparently at the brink

but unable to breach the barrier. "why, inuhhhh, call Ben? just fuck

me, oh god please fuck me...unng.."

"Don't you think he'd like to hear you coming?" He clamped his finger

and thumb tightly on her nipple, twisting sharply .

He could see she was expecting that to send her over, but instead it

just sent her pelvis into deeper thrusts, seeking cock that hadn't

been inserted yet.  Her fulfillment would wait a touch longer.

She fumbled, and between grunts and moans, managed to dial the

number. She strained her eyes open and closed as the other end rang.

And when the voice answering was not Ben, she struggled to suppress

the sounds her throat was forcing past her tongue.

"Hi,  this is Janet, can I  speak with my husband."

She barely managed to contain her voice as Bob pulled her legs up

over the arms of the chair and began to slide his hand over her ass.

She shouldn't bother hiding her activities, he thought. Everyone who

works with Ben knows how you two operate. "unghh!, please, unhgg,

ooohhh pleeease!"

"Hello,  Ben?," the voice seemed to confirm it, "Bob is here,

and he tells me, ugnngh, you guys made a bet of ooaaah, some kind...

uh uh uh uh" Bob had inserted two fingers in her cunt and was

starting to thrust them.

"Here," she panted as she held out the phone, "he wants  to

talk, mmmmmm, to you."

"Bob!?, Bob!?, Bob!?"

"Yup," Bob had to exert a measure of self control to keep from

breathing heavily into the phone, "she's hot to trot, ready for

fucking. How would you like me to take her?"

"I don't believe,... never mind! I don't care, I just want to hear

her while she's coming!" Ben responded.

"Okay, you listen, she'll hold the phone to her throat..."

He handed the phone back to Janet. Obedient to the instructions, she

pinned the phone where the receiver would pick up every throaty sound

she loosed.

"Okay Janet, since Ben hasn't got a preference, and you're so convinced

I can't get in your pants, how do you want it?"

"Oh Bob, I uh uh uh, I'm sorry, uh uh uh, fuck me Bob, fuck me! please

fuck me! god!! fuck fuck fuck, pleeeese."

He worked himself up into position to enter, and in a single lunge,

thrust the length of his cock deep inside her. "OooooooOH!" was her

immediate response. As he thrust, he let himself come pretty quickly,

a fountain of come flooding freely through his prick. He kept pounding

to her thumping grunts and slowly released the block on her orgasm,

causing her building heat to rise higher still.


completely without restraint as the sensation drew her on. In one

final screaming pitch, she pounded up and down so hard, he thought the

chair was creaking louder than it should. She released completely with

an ear piercing primal scream.

She lay panting frantically on the chair as he stood up. She was

clearly used up, needing to recover before she could even speak. The

sweat dripped into a puddle on the chairs arms, head rest, back and

elsewhere, competing with the puddle of sexual juices by her ass.

"Hello? Hello?" squawked from the phone. Bob picked it up.  Janet was

in no condition to do so.

"Ben, you still there."

"Goddamn, I wet my pants." came Ben's voice calmly as though he'd

dropped a screw driver.

"Well, you lose the bet lad."

"I guess so, who'd of guessed."

"Talk to you later."

"Later." and the phone clicked as Ben hung up.

Janet just sat there, eyes closed, panting, helpless before him. Bob

enjoyed this view and toyed with her hair while he stood beside her.

"We'll do this again won't we Janet?" She opened her eyes and looked

at him with astonishment. Gulping, she straightened up a bit.

"I h-h-hope so. I'd never would've thought you'd be the best sex I'd

ever had. I want more, but I'm burnt out."

"There'll be another time." He began to dress.

"I'm sorry about the things I said... stay, we can screw again in a

little while."

"Its okay, like I said, I think you were using it to build sexual

tension or some such shit."

"Yeah, well, that was the best fuck I can remember." Still naked she

walked to the kitchen with him. "I want to repeat the experience

often. Ben won't mind, honest."

"I know, gotta go now." With this Bob turned and embraced her in his

arms. He kissed her passionately, as she returned the kiss with her

tongue caressing his lips.

Bob was pleased, he'd only controlled some of her physical reactions.

Not at all like Fran, whose mind was completely adjusted to meet his

demands. Nor like Randi, who he'd taken over control her body with

some reaction control. Now with a little work he could manipulate

women without bending them into entirely new personalities.

Somewhat satisfied that nothing could go wrong now, that his talent

was beginning to grow. He drove over to the Mall, there were a few

more things he'd need before tonight!


The mall was full of mothers with children, college students who

didn't have classes or were cutting, and the odd couple here and there

with a day off.  Bob was concentrating on getting to the book store,

when something jolted his reverie...

There was a very attractive young girl, although as he looked she

appeared to be older, sitting in front of a shoe store.  She had long

black hair, a clear complexion, and was thin but not bony. What

snapped him loose from daydreaming about screwing Janet was

her intensity as she watched women walking by...

Bob sat down across from the Shoe store, pretending to check his

purchases.  He reached out with a tendril of thought to probe her. He

was curious.  Taking out a pen, he slipped into her subconscious and

found her name and address. This information written down for later

use, he made an effort to monitor her thoughts.

For a moment, he could see through her eyes as she appraised the

curves of a woman walking by with a stroller.  This was new!  He could

feel her salivating at the idea of sucking milk from the new mother's

teat.  He could sense the arousal in her loins and found that his

manhood was straining in response to her lust.

Knowing he couldn't get his chores done, and explore this hot little

lesbian tart, he double checked the address he'd written down and

pulled his tendril of thought back.

He got a second surprise...

Someone was frantically trying to hide their mind, and doing a poor

job of it.  He'd never of noticed, but for his little probe activity.

Bob began to seek out the consciousness trying to hide. It was

wandering the mall, but he couldn't tell where...

{who??} came a symbol from this mystery person, {not them?}

Bob, stunned that anyone else knew the symbols, much less could

manipulate them, paused before responding.

{I am learning} he tried to be somewhat evasive. Worried about the

reactions of others to his experiments, it didn't seem a good idea to

expose himself either. {why do you hide?}

{hunters!, you can be found, be careful} and the other mind modified

it's concealment, vanishing from Bob's inexperienced probing.

Someone else slapped out at him with an entirely unsubtle probe at his

mind.  Pulling back into himself he displayed a set of surface

thoughts about shopping.  Hunters?, what hunters?  Telepaths with

hostility towards other telepaths?  It was a shock to learn there were

others who knew the symbols.  He decided caution was in order.

Bob's consciousness slipped down inside himself. He filled out the

artificial consciousness he left showing, so telepathic probes wouldn't

detect him.  This probe was pure energy though, no symbols apparent.

Could the phony him pass if whoever looked closely?

The probe passed, Bob allowed himself an internal sigh of relief.

What he'd done seemed to have worked.  He checked the artificial

personality he displayed.  He was certain it was untouched.  He

wondered who the phantom he'd communicated with was, but was relieved

to avoid the 'hunters'.

In an unhurried manner, watching anxiously for the 'hunters', he

completed his errands.  He still couldn't keep from shaking somewhat.

Once he was back on the road, he couldn't resist speeding.  He had to

adjust a cop to ignore him as he drove past.  Just another price of

the fun he now enjoyed.


"Hi Ben."


"Speakers ready yet?" Bob was still shaking.  He wasn't used to the

idea that other people were looking for him, as a telepath that is.

"Hey bud," Ben jibed, "Screwing Janet give you a case of nerves?"

"Naw, close call on the highway." Bob lied.  You don't have the

talent, you shouldn't know about it, he thought.

"That was one intense phone call by the way.  Ran home for an hour and

we had a quickie on the kitchen floor." Ben lifted the speakers from

behind his work desk. "Funny thing though, Janet seemed let down


"Aw, she'll be okay. Twice, so close together, probably just a case of

stamina failure."

"Well, you musta given her some work out, she was still naked in the

kitchen. Said she was feeling kind of limp.  It was great for me


"Heh heh, thanks for fixing the speakers, Janet was real fun.  If you

don't mind maybe she and I can...." he let the thought trail off.  It

wouldn't do to have Ben think he was too far gone to appreciate a good


"You bet. I'd like to watch though, you know what a thrill I get outa

seeing her get laid..."

"Right, sure.  When the opportunity arises, I guess."


As evening approached, Bob felt much better.  He realized the

'hunters', as he thought of them, could never get hold of him if they

couldn't spot him. Everything was cool again, he thought.  He'd just

have to be careful to keep up a good front.  He'd have to look at the

Book, to see if any other telepaths are mentioned.  Specifically he

wanted to see if he'd overlooked any reference to hostile groups, or

some kind of association of telepaths.

He pushed it to the back of his mind for now.  He wanted to be ready

for his private party. So he went back to clearing away the living

room's clutter and straightened up the bedroom.  This was going to be

an interesting evening.


When the doorbell rang promptly at 6:30, Bob rushed to open it. There

was Fran, and as he'd come to expect, she was striking sexy poses

whenever opportune, as if the photographer would snap a picture at any

moment. Mostly this showed her bust line and hips to great effect, but

the coy come hither looks she shot off were most effective.

She walked in as he directed carrying a large and tattered shopping

bag.  She stood in the living room for a moment, gathering in the

view, neither approving nor disapproving.  Bob closed the door and

walked up behind her.

"Oh darling, um, master, I've looked forward to this all day!" She

hadn't of course, but she didn't know that. Bob adjusted the

instructions he'd given her to allow her to remain in secret lover

personality while in his home tonight.  He reached around her and

cupped the undersides of her tits.  They were delightfully round and

soft. Clearly she'd successfully removed her underthings before

coming. He fingered her nipples and licked the back of her neck.

She cocked one knee up a bit and began to squeeze her thighs in to

stimulate her groin. "oh, master, oh please yes."  He stopped after a

few moments, to her obvious disappointment.

Lifting the back of her skirt, he was pleased to learn that she'd

gotten the panties off too.  Rubbing her bottom he slowly slipped his

middle finger into her asshole. "Eeek!, aaahhh..." Startled at first,

she allowed herself to relax and accept the intrusion.

"March as I lead." he began to direct her by his finger to the

bedroom.  Each step was arousing her more as he finger fucked her anus

with every up and down motion.  Her face took on a flushed color and

little gasps came after the first few steps.

"You brought your uniform?"  He removed his finger.  Disappointment

rose again within her.  She apparently was expecting to be well fucked

first thing.  She'd have to wait.

"Yes master, a beautiful maids outfit. I've worn it once before, but

Joe didn't really care for it."

"Put it on, I'll be in the kitchen." He turned and left her, wanting

to be surprised at least a little bit.

A few minutes later as she came into the kitchen, he turned and was

extremely pleased.

She wore a frilly top blouse with red cups under the breasts, only

barely covering her nipples. Tightly, the white blouse clung to her

middle and a black little skirt fluffed up stiffly, lace patterned

frills underneath showed her upper thighs adorned with garters. Her

legs were decorated with skin colored stockings with the seam in the

back straight as an arrow.  Her ankles were adorned with a white lace

loop and turned, ever so lovely, in the high heels she wore.  Similar

lace wraps adorned her wrists, displaying her hands and fingers

nicely.  She'd removed her wedding and engagement rings, probably to

please her lover.  A delightful touch, that added enormously, was the

jet black choker around her neck. She pirouetted for his pleasure.

"Good. Now set the dining room table for two. I'm having Randi over

for dinner. We'll probably fuck afterwards. You will be serving us."

He could sense the anger rising in her.   Why should she share him

with anyone! Then he could see the resignation, as she decided she'd

do anything for her secret lover.  Interestingly, she began to twitch

with excitement at the humiliation of having to serve his other lover

dinner.  She also seem to reflect on how much better a lover she must

be, to be able to accept this role from him.

"Yes master."  she meekly said.

Amazing, he thought, I didn't even plant that stream in her to

accept... I think.  Aroused himself, he had to struggle not to take

Fran immediately.

She began to work on setting the table, a difficult task in the outfit

she now wore.  Watching her move in that outfit, he thought, was one

hell of a reward in itself.  The motions showed off her flesh with

grace, and her poise was such, Bob could believe she was aroused just

from being watched.

Fortunately the doorbell rang again.  He answered the door to find

Randi, as he expected.

She was beautiful. She wore a red, ankle length, shoulderless dress,

that accented her smaller breasts and the incredible curve of her

hips. Her hair was waved slightly, and the red lipstick was glossy

enough to accent the light pucker her lips were displaying.  She was

wearing black high heels, and an ankle bracelet glinted briefly in the

waning sunlight.

A cloud of confusion and irritation hung over her as he waved her in.

"I really didn't want to come, you know.  I just had to see if this

stupid lack of control is something that happens only around you!"  She

stomped into the livingroom on 3 inch heels without the flowing grace

the dress suggested.  He figured he could work on that...

"Oh, I love it when you're angry.  Do sit down, our servant for the

evening will have dinner ready soon, I'm sure..."

"Our what!?  Oh, your not going to embarrass me in front of a stranger,

you know!  I can just leave right now!"

"Nothing of the sort. You know Fran. Fran! Come in here please."

In walked the lovely, willowy blond, displaying herself in her maid's

outfit.  She capped her entrance with a delicate curtsy, almost sliding

her breasts free from her blouse on the bounce.

"Yes master?" she put out with the sexiest breathy voice she could


"Dinner is on the stove and in the oven. When the timer rings, the

chicken should be ready. Set out the food, and call us in.  Bring us a

glass of wine each, please."

"Will that be all master?"

"Yes Fran, that will be all."

"That isn't our Fran, from work I mean!?"  Randi appeared a little

shocked by Fran's appearance.  But her eyes had lingered on Fran's

legs and ass as she wandered back to the kitchen.

"Oh, she likes performing this little role of hers. Don't be alarmed.

We will have dinner, chat for a while, and see what happens."

Randi opened her lovely lips, but rather than speak, she just licked

them.  Bob recognized the reaction from the girl in the Mall.  He

hadn't expected Randi to have that response.  Oh ho!, he thought,

maybe I know what became of the old boyfriend.

Fran brought the wine in, and Randi's eyes didn't stray from her. She

finally looked at Bob again after Fran left the room.

"If you like, I'll let you eat her for dessert."  He tested the

waters, deliberately avoiding monitoring her thoughts.

Stunned, Randi looked down at her lap. "I don't know what you're

talking about!"  Her voice was much smaller, and somewhat broken up by

the attempt to reply immediately to his insinuation.  Her hands were

clasped, palms up in her lap, and looked sweaty.  He knew he had

appraised her reaction correctly.  Before the conversation continued

however, Fran called that dinner was ready.

Sitting down to candle light, being served by the attractive blond,

and eating dinner with another woman that would be at his command

later, Bob felt a certain contentment.  Satisfaction and comfort

settled in while he ate the food Fran placed before him.  She stroked

him with those lovely boobs whenever she could work around his side or

back.  While she did this, he slipped a suggestion into her mind that

she do the same for Randi.

Fran, consciously trying to please Bob, now began to perform the same

little enticing movements against Randi.  Bob watched Randi's eyes pop

wide open at one point when Fran dipped her cleavage low so Randi

couldn't miss it.  Randi's tongue explored her own lips and seemed to

have no active control while her eyes followed Fran around the room.

At one point, she brushed her own breast as Fran rubbed up against her


Bob's reactions were astounding, he couldn't keep his prick down when

he saw Randi's behavior.

Fran did well serving the salad, main course, and the cake he had

bought.  She made every step to and from the kitchen an exciting

luscious erotic treat as well.  But after she cleared the dessert

dishes, he had her bring out coffee.  He was looking forward to being

awake for some time yet! Once the coffee was out, he looked at a very

horny Randi sitting opposite.

"Still hungry?"

"Well, no, dinner was very good, thank you."  She remained pensive, and

somewhat ill at ease.  Bob was delighted, this was all very exciting,

influencing his state of arousal.

"Very well, Fran come in here."

The blond bounced into the dining room quickly, almost coming out of

the weak restraint of her blouse.

"Yes master?"

Bob got up and moved behind Fran, turning her to face Randi.  Her body

moved longingly at his every touch.  Looking over Fran's shoulder, he

could see Randi lick her lips, and struggle at restraining her own

reactions.  Fran tensed a little as she realized he might use her

there before this other lover, but relaxed again, determined she would

show herself the better choice.

He reached for the back of her neck, with his palm arched, he lightly

felt the smooth skin around to her chin and slipped a finger into her

mouth.  She took the finger and sucked it with worshipful motions,

licking the air behind as he pulled away from time to time.  Bob could

see her eyes were closed in passion.  He glanced at Randi, who by now

had her right hand up to her mouth, the knuckles of her forefinger

sucked between her lips, the white of her teeth showing against the

skin.  Her desire to participate was very clear.

"Come into the living room, both of you." He directed, as soon as he

could draw himself under control a bit. "Randi, you take the larger

chair, by the bookcase." He slipped his hand under the diminutive

skirt Fran was wearing and grabbed a handful of cheek to guide her in

front of Randi, back about 3 feet.  Randi, lost in her own lust,

simply did as commanded. He was delighted that he'd been able to avoid

any further probing, and adjustment to fulfill his desires so far.

He slipped his hand past Fran's anus and pulled back on her crotch

while pushing forward on her shoulders with the other hand. "Ommph!"

she spouted as her hands grabbed the arms of Randi's chair and she

leaned over displaying her bountiful chest to the elegantly dressed

woman beneath.

"Good. Now Randi, since you've been enjoying watching Fran's tits

throughout dinner, you will arouse them for me."

Shamed by her body's hot desire, Randi began to reach up for those

gifts Bob was giving her.  She began by unbuttoning the blouse Fran

had so tightly wrapped around herself earlier.

Fran was helplessly trapped in this position, the strain on her arms

noticibly caused discomfort, but as Randi started tracing the shapes

of Fran's huge tits by the tiniest finger traces, a sigh of delight

escaped from within.

While Randi was exploring, Bob dropped his trousers, kicking them and

his shoes aside for now.  His view was enhanced by the great mirror

over the mantle of his fireplace.  He also reached out to see through

Randi what she saw and felt.  As he did this he could feel the growing

lust raging in her and saw the tip of her tongue wrap itself around

Fran's nipple.  Fran let out a solid low moan.  Bob stepped up behind

her. He lifter her skimpy skirt to expose naked ass and pussy. He slid

his cock straight into her cunt, by now soaked with vaginal juices, to

the hilt.

"gnnn! ooohhh god!" he could feel her clenching her teeth with the

sensation of her nipples being aroused from one side as he plunged her

depths from behind.  Unable to do much more than wobble in place

against him, she pressed back whenever she could.  The high heels she

wore made this task less than simple.

Bob blocked her orgasm, as he had earlier with Janet.  He let it

build.  The streams of pleasurable arousal grew, but failed to

release. "unh unh unh" she throbbed rhythmically, pulsing as he

continued to pound her cunt and Randi got more enthusiastic with her

tits.  Randi bit down hard once, eliciting a great "ggaaawwdddd

yessss!" as Fran lurched with the strokes. Fran's head was now shaking

wildly from side to side, tossing droplets of sweat left and right as

she strove to reach the plateau... which Bob finally allowed,

unlocking the stream for her.  "AAAHHHHAAHHHHHHHHHH! GOOOOOODDD!

FU..." and she went from total animal screech to whimpering little

girl slowly through the orgasm.

No one could say how long she had been in a state of orgasm, but when

she was done, there was just a shell of child, leaning against the

chair. Bob carried her to the other chair and sat her down. Still in

her maids uniform, Fran looked a little like a broken doll.

Checking she was actually still there and breathing, Bob cupped her

face in his hands.  She smiled, but didn't open her eyes.

Bob turned back to Randi.  She was virtually drooling, gulping with

desire and anticipation.  Her hands were rubbing across the fabric of

her dress, over her breasts.

"I'll do anything you want," she breathed seductively. He knew he had

her hooked, more than controlled.  "I'll be your whore," she went on,

"anytime, just help me, uh, please, I want to cum like that!" she

ended in a stammering whisper.  He could see her shudder lightly as

he approached her.

His cock, wet from Fran, was still standing erect.  He stood by the

side of Randi's chair.

"Darling Randi, I think you can start by cleaning Fran's juices off my


"Yes, er, should I call you master too?"  she spoke directly at his

prick, now in her hand.

"Eventually, maybe. Tonight you are my date, Fran is being our

entertainment, a toy for both of us to play with." Randi was wrapping

her lips about the tip of his cock, "a toy for your pleasure too. But

you will be my Lady, an exceptional consort for this night."

She was delighting in tasting the juices Fran covered him with, he

could feel the passion in her lips and tongue.  As she began diving

against his groin, the flood of energy built in his balls, surging to

rise above the base of his organ.  He felt her slide further towards

the root of his stiffness.  Her teeth digging gently against the body

of his cock. Pulling her head harder against him he unleashed a

torrent of cum down her throat.  Remarkably, she sucked harder to

swallow what he'd delivered.  When his release ended, he stood back

appraising her appearance.

She licked her lips clean, clearing every drop of the hard won semen

from her chin, she was still unquestionably squealching her own desire

to orgasm.  She had given over to his control, he would let her come

when she was ripe, improving the inevitable orgasm beyond her normal

expectations.  She was obviously certain of this.

Drop and give me fifty, he chuckled to himself.  Oh, the enticing

thrill of having two such lovely toys, all to himself.  Well, he

couldn't leave her quite like this all night.

"Go in the bedroom, get your underwear off.  Then we'll make a short

trip out.  You will enjoy yourself, I'm sure."

Reluctantly, knowing she'd now have to wait for her anticipated

release, she stepped down the hall.  Bob turned to Fran who had

recovered enough to watch the end of Randi's administrations to his


"Clean yourself up. I want the kitchen clean by the time we get back

and yourself in pristine condition, prepared for our leisure."

"Yes master," she managed, still hovering about the plateau she hit

when her orgasm ended.  He sensed she'd gotten a thrill from the use

Randi had made of her, he'd expected no less.

He put his pants back on, finishing the knots on his shoes when Randi

came back out.  Her makeup straightened out, she had taken on the

appearance of someone set to go to the opera.  She had turned her

curvaceous assets into a work of art.

"Before we go, why don't you go in to Fran and feel up her cunt? You

might feel better for it... if all goes well, I'll let you use her

later as well..."  She flashed him a wicked lustful glance, and

stepped into the kitchen.

"Yipppp!, oh mistress!" He heard while he found his keys and wallet.

"unnnh!, mmmmph!"  A few more muffled moans and sighs were followed

by an "oh please!"

Momentarily, with a satisfied grin, Randi stepped back in.  Her

lipstick was slightly disrupted, but she seemed gloriously pleased

with herself.

She fixed the makeup again in the car.


The two of them went to a few dance places he'd used to visit,

trolling for dates, before he'd met Betty.  She danced impeccably.  He

teased her, making her dance with several other men with verbal

instructions to make the tiniest of come ons to them.  Randi obviously

felt a little humiliated, but also found each act of humiliation to be

another inch forward in her arousal.

He, for his part, danced with as many other women as he could entice to

the dance floor.  Some of them never noticed his hands cupping their

breasts.  Some did, but didn't want him to stop.

But after a few hours, Bob took Randi back to his home. She was now

so hot, she figured the doorknob looked good.  He told her to use Fran

to get her relief, when they got inside.

As they entered, Fran stepped up with hot cocoa.

"I thought you'd like something when you got in, master."

Bob took his cup, but Randi set hers aside.  In moments she had pulled

Fran to the floor, plunging her tongue into the other woman's throat.

The temporary servant was moaning herself at this assault like advance

and began to feel Randi's curves through her dress.  Shortly it was

Fran who had rolled Randi over and was thrusting her tongue down the

brunette's throat.  Gasps of pleasure worked free from both women.

Bob was very pleased with the turn of events.

Randi and Fran allowed him to interrupt.  After pointing out the

bedroom would be much more comfortable, he watched as they scrambled

to the other room together.  He slipped the orgasm block into both of

them, and went down the basement.

Shortly he'd found the book and went into the living room, sitting in

the same chair he'd had Randi in earlier. Sipping his drink, he

listened to the stream of moans and begging "fuck me, please, oooohh"

sounds from the bedroom.  His vicarious pleasure was about to begin.

He'd planned this since he saw the little tart at the mall.

He reached out to feel the two women, entering into the streams Randi

was putting out.  He could feel her lips brush the nipples of the

other woman.  Her heat filled his loins, the pleasure and pain of the

nips at her own nipples flooded his chest.  He could feel the fingers

invading her cunt.  He sensed the dripping fluids dribbling down her

legs.  His own pelvis lifted and pulsed in rhythm with hers.  Fran

became pinned under her, as she thrust her groin into the blond's

face.  Clearly the blond was easily as far gone by now, as Randi dug

her tongue between Fran's cut lips, the fluids flowed into her mouth.

He could feel the twist of Fran's fingers, reaching Randi's tits.

Bob released the block on Randi's orgasm while he was inside her mind

stream, wallowing in the symbols spelling out the thrusting surge.  He

felt her muscled contraction tightly, again, and then again, and once

again.  He was certain he was wet in exactly the same way.  Then he

slipped into Fran's stream of consciousness, feeling a similar punch

of pleasure rising in her/his groin.  Randi chose the moment to lunge

her fingers into Fran's cunt, several, maybe an entire fist.  Fuck!,

god that was good, he released Fran too and she went screaming, at

the top of her lungs, over the edge.

Releasing the probe into the women, Bob relaxed.  Oh shit, he looked

down.  He'd orgasmed, messing his pants and his chair.  How

embarrassing.  Planning hadn't foreseen this, he decided.


He cleaned up the mess.  Looking in on his toys, he saw they'd fallen

asleep, cuddled in each other's arms.

Very well, he thought.  I'm pretty well burnt out anyway.  Time to

check out the book.  He began to search for references to

organizations of telepaths, hunters, anything.  It was 2:00 AM when he

gave up.  There were no clues to anyone, not even the original author.

He virtually had the Book memorized now.

He finally put it away again.

Thinking about the two women together, his cock rose again.  He

slipped in next to Fran. He woke her with a shush...

With Randi still asleep, he had Fran suck his cock, lubricating him

with her spit.  Turning her around, he arranged her on her knees on

the bed.  Her head next to Randi, her shoulders embedded in a pillow,

her ass jutting up at him. He spread her cheeks.  She made a small

whimper of joy, and he shushed her again.  His cock worked its way

into her ass slowly.  She bit down on the pillow.  He plunged in and

began to work up a rhythm.  Fran grunted a pleased sigh.  He pumped and

felt the flood coming again.  His groin squeezed the liquid fire

through his prick one more time for the night.

Randi slept through everything this time, even Fran's screaming orgasm.

And then he felt spent.  Fran dripped with come, and he watched her

waiting permission to get up.  With hesitation, he had her gather her

things and go home.

He gave Fran a farewell kiss at the front door, and intimately drew

his fingers over each breast and her cunt before she departed.


He woke up Randi, telling her to go home.  Randi seemed reluctant to

depart.  She wanted to stay for more of his special treatment.

"Don't worry, we'll get together again, soon."

"I'm prepared to move in, if you'll have me." she whispered.

"You want Fran, not me."  He knew what brought out her heat, she'd

missed it all along.  His new talent had helped see through her thin


"Yes, but you gave her to me tonight. The whole thing wouldn't have

worked if I'd tried to pick her up myself..."  Her eyes begged him for

more, both the humiliation and the control over other women. "But

she is only one woman.  You are a treasure chest of unbriddled

sexual pleasure."

"So you think you want to be my whore?  You want me to pimp women for

your use?"

"I'd pay for what you've given me, er, master."  with this she

announced her servitude.

"You will pay. You'll find that if I own you, I'll used you often.

I'll think it over. Go home."

She pouted at him, but left as commanded. He watched her car drive

away in the darkness.

Clearing away the mess in the bed room, he collapsed into a solid

crashing sleep.

He dreamed of being 'hunted' by predatory villains, wielding ray guns

and carrying manacles.  The terror woke him, but he managed to drop off

again, repeating the nightmare a few times...

Betty would visit tomorrow.


Part 3

                       _A Weekend by the Book_

                             section (b)

Saturday morning, a dreamy semi-spring day crept up on Bob. He

managed to get out of bed anyway. He knew the morning would give him

little time to get chores out of the way...

Bob could feel the detergent powder against his skin after putting the

bed clothes in to wash. The odor of sex had turned sour during the night,

and he had felt obliged to get his house into a more pristine condition

before Betty showed up.

Randi had left her panties and bra behind.  He felt like a teenager,

finding forbidden fruit. He was going to stow them away to return later.

As he did, he noticed her fragrance had remained on the lingerie. He

hesitated for a moment, then put them in a plastic bag in the crawl

space.  He didn't think Betty would explore there.

Musing, he considered the practicalities of Randi moving in as his slave.

Although she volunteered, he didn't see any practical means of keeping

her in line without 'adjustment'.

Not that he was bothered by the power he had over her, but it was

somehow more enjoyable when she *had* to cooperate without


Not that he'd ever be able to explain to Betty.

He turned on some music, an old Beatles album.  About the time he heard

the line "she came in through the bathroom window..." the doorbell rang.


Betty was in the study, working on an art project. Sometimes when she

came over, it was to make use of the extra space his home afforded. She

lived in an apartment about 30 minutes away, so while convenient, it

wasn't exactly a trip she would make for only one purpose.

She realized that if she'd done this Friday night, she and Bob wouldn't

have any time together. She was somewhat pleased that the speakers

were fixed now too. She brushed something off her slacks.

Maybe, she thought, maybe Bob's the one. A real keeper, the 'Man of my

dreams'. He'd stopped pushing her about sex lately too. This was a 'Good

Thing' and to be admired, since it meant she could control that silly

activity if they ever got married.

She dismissed the whole stream of thoughts for now, since, after all,

marriage is a serious topic. She was still having fun with Bob, not ready

to be completely serious yet.

She struggled to straighten out the mat she had cut for her art.


Bob, in the other room, smiled to himself after eavesdropping on her

thoughts. Controlling sex was a trivial issue now that he could slip a

new chain of symbols into her nervous system.

He was satisfied with reading her mind at the moment. The time would

come to strip her of the misconception sex was silly. It just would

have to wait.

"How long is a china man?" he called to her.

"What?" he'd gotten her attention.

"When are you going to be finished?," he shouted. "I've some yard work to

do, but I might need to run some errands too."

"Go ahead, I could be a few hours. Then maybe we can go out for dinner!"

she called back. He shuddered, wondering what type of culinary horror

she would foist upon him this time.

He stepped out to the garage, getting the lawnmower out. Soon, he was

lost in the numbing vibrations, watching the clippings that escaped

through the gap between the housing and the ground. He contemplated

the fate of these small clippings.


He could feel people around him.

Betty, most certainly. But across the street he could sense the kids

playing on the swingset/kid fort behind the house. He could feel the

couple next door, working separately on household chores. Two

teenagers were hiding behind a garage making out. Mr. Graenspin two

blocks over had a whale of a hangover.

The drivers of cars passing by sent out mixed signals of braking,

accelerating.  The mailman was frustrated by sorting the goddamn mail

for the twerps in 352, but he was looking forward to delivering to that

divorced Mrs. Lansing. A bicyclist was staring at the tire before him

rolling along the road.

The rolling murmur of mind voices started as a trickle but was starting

to roar. It was building to a shouting crescendo! Bob dropped to his

knees, clutching his hands over his ears and scream, at least he thought

he did. The book had done this! He hadn't expected to hear everyone at


Seal them out, seal them out! The alien thoughts were pounding at the

gates of his mind... he had to stop them. When he could work in a few

thoughts of his own he imagined a curtain around his mind. He drew it

about that thing which was 'Bob' and closed in underneath.

The mass of minds quieted. He could still feel the plundering assault in

throbbing waves, a little like the water of a shower pushing the curtain

back. Realization dawned that his range had steadily increased and was

undergoing another enormous growth. What he needed was some kind of

filter, a bubble, some kind of shield he could selectively see through...

and as he thought it, the shield began to form.

He found he was kneeling in the grass. Certain the entire crisis had

lasted less than a handful of seconds, he continued to kneel, panting

from the released pressure. It would pass, but the exertion of fighting

off the effects of his power left him weak.

He had only a few more passes to make with the mower. He fought

through it tenaciously.


He'd gone in the bathroom to recover. Betty, who was still diligently

working, wouldn't disturb him in here. She seemed to respect some

activities as sacrosanct.

He stretched out in the tub, fully dressed and leaned back. There must be

a suitable way to relax after that experience. He thought his head would

burst like a bad scene in a horror flick.

The best relaxation he could think of was sex.

Well, with Betty here, that was out for sure. Then the glimmerings of a

plan came up from the cellars of his mind.

Testing his control of the shield he'd constructed, he looked in on the

neighboring couple. He couldn't remember their names, but he could find

out as he slipped into their minds.

The woman was easy to find. He was getting used to exploring women's


She was taking a breather, sitting on the edge of her bed. She wasn't bad

to look at, thought Bob, seeing her in the mirror through her own eyes.

Her brown/blonde hair was styled into a fluffy perm. Her face without

make up was attractive, high cheeks, narrow nose, expressive mouth,

with a round, smooth chin. Her body was athletic, not real busty, but

curved and rounded at the chest. From what he could make out of her

legs, she was sculpted nicely there too.

The decision came upon him, he wanted to make her, right now! It was

just a matter of how to go about taking her. Thinking of his remote

experience last night with his slave toys, the plan continued to grow in

his mind.

He insinuated a control over the woman, making her wait at the edge of

the bed.

Seeking out her husband, Bob slipped his consciousness into the man. He

suppressed the other man's self into a sleep. Bob looked at his new

hands, rough and callused from physical labor.

He saw he was in the man's workshop, and had been running a lathe. He

cut the power to the device. It took a little searching in the man's head

to sort out the layout of the house. In short order he was at the door to

the bedroom.

Before him, sat his lovely wife. Whoooops! Boy, did the native mind's

thoughts crept up on him. Bob sat beside her inside this other body,

turning her towards him for a light lip brushing kiss. She dropped her


"Oh honey, it's the middle of the day..." Bob tickled the nerves to send

signals of mild arousal through her back, legs, arms and neck.

"I'll try to make it as though we've never touched before..." he whispered

into an ear he had lifted a wisp of hair away from.

She silently acquiesced to his advances.

Kicking his shoes off, he laid her back over the freshly made bed. She

set her arms above her head and allowed him to sink his tongue into her

mouth.  Their tongues wrestled. Occasionally, he sucked one, then the

other lip between his own, striving to created the physical sensations

he could feel she craved.  With fingertips afire, he traced the muscles

of her neck. He followed the same path afterwards with the tip of his,

er, her husband's, tongue.

After a moments pause to contemplate her engrossed expression, he

carefully unbuttoned the first of her blouse's buttons. The skin exposed

by this was treated to a gentle nibbling by his lips. Tactile sensations

flooded outward from each spot he touched. He could feel the surge of

excitement radiating within his own, er the other man's, body as well.

Another button, another worshipful engagement of skin. He undid the

third button, exposing the clasp of her bra. As he finished the skin to

skin communication this time, he undid the bra's clasp, but stayed his

hand from curling back the clothe.

By now she was squirming with luxurious joy. It was quiet, she, unlike

his other recent conquests, was remarkably silent in her repose. When

he pulled back the sides of her blouse, she began to pull it off herself,

but he stopped her. She allowed him to roll her sleeves down from the

shoulders one at a time, and as he did, his lips and tongue came to

explore the newly exposed skin. She finally release a single low moan.

Bob reached across with a sliver of thought an magnified the sensation

for her. He could see within her that she no longer had any control over

her responsiveness.

Speeding the process a bit, he pulled her shorts away, leaving her clad

now only in a partially opened bra, and her panties. Edging a hand down

into the back of her panties, he brushed the backs of her cheeks. They

clenched together under his hand beginning a hip motion of incredible

delight to Bob.

The nameless woman before him watched his own motions as he stripped

himself of the clothes he'd worn into the room. Moving on her own, she

cupped his erect cock, a fairly normal size, in her hands and performed

some of her own worshipful contact touches. He lay on his back and she

began to trace her tongue all over him, with sensual little nips at his


She tossed the now useless bra aside and putting her two slender legs

together, she slid the panties off over her knees, ankles, then toes. He

could see the panties were drenched. Undressed, the view of her was

glorious. Her pussy hair was short and curly, forming a vase shape over

her crotch. Her tits were little more than an handful, with erect pointing

nipples begging for attention.

He reached out to caress them. She slipped her lips over his prick. The

tongue gently tickling the head of his prick, she took little nips at the

skin along the length. He was surprised how agile she was at this. Then

she vacuumed the entire length right down into her throat! He strained

not to come yet. She began to turn this into a serious problem, diving up

and down a few times, pausing, then repeating the performance.

On one of her thrusts, with penis lodged deeply in her throat, he loosed a

torrent of come. He could make out the swallowing muscles on the side

of her neck.

She sat up and smiled, licking any remaining drops from her lips. There

was a self satisfied, somewhat superior look on her face.

Not to be completely outdone, he turned her on her back and lifted her

hips. He started nibbling at her thighs, creamy soft on the surface, strong

and well exercised thighs. Working his tongue amongst the folds of skin

between her legs, he rapidly found the little boat her slit enfolded into.

There at the apex, was the knob of flesh he was seeking. Bob added a

little stimulus to the already twitching nerves, a surge of pleasant

symbols tickling in amongst the others her body already was producing.

Holding her hips up, he worked around so his host's balls hung over

her face, her knees resting on his shoulders. This exposed her ass to

penetration by his fingers. Feeling the apprehension at her ass being

invaded, he found the symbols in the nerve stream were countering the

gentle brushes his fingertips were making. He eased the pain symbols

out of the stream, and suddenly the arousal increased accordingly.

With the backdoor open to his gentle touch, he lubricated his fingers in

her cunt to a growing stream of quiet suppressed moans. He continued to

lick the lips of her cunt, but began sliding first one, then two, then

three fingers in passed her sphincter.

To his delight she was trying to press the fingers in deeper. By now she

had found his cock hanging before her face enticing. He was being

sucked, nibbled and licked back to stiffness.

Finally, hard again, he stood on the bed. Continuing to hold her hips up

off the bed, he entered the darkest cavern she held. He pressed his hosts

cock into her anus until his balls rested, nestled between her ass

cheeks. She, lost in her new sensations, went into overdrive.

She pummeled her ass against him, seething with desire to suck the rest

of him into her rectum. He reached down and began to brutalize her

nipples, now raging with a sensitivity to the surge of pain/pleasure that

drove through her tits to her throat.

"Gaaaaaawwwddddaammmnnniitt!" she burst out from her throat with all

the pent up lust contained in their actions. "FUGMEEEEE!" as she worked

through the wild thrashing and to her climax.

He pulled out of her ass and entered her now steaming pussy. Wet and

surging, her  muscles squeezed the invading prick, causing another

spreading  ejaculation. He was able to unleash another flood, enough so

that the new made bed would require changing again.

"unnnghh..." he muttered. Looking at the doll like woman before him, he saw

she was wasted from her exertion.

"You never made love to my ass before, sweetheart." she whispered in


"I told you it would be as though we'd never touched before..." He let the

man, his host, collapse. He planted a memory of this pleasant experience

behind and looked up at the shower curtain. Oddly, his own body felt alien

to him on returning.

This time Bob hadn't messed himself.  He was completely thrilled at the

remote control sex he'd orchestrated. He felt refreshed from the

experience, not burnt out. And Betty was still working away downstairs,

none the wiser...


They'd ended up at an Italian restaurant. It was a well hidden place named

Lorenzo's. The checkered tablecloths covered small tables crowded

together in such a way as to prevent two people from sitting back to back.

He ordered the Fettucini, she ordered Linguini in Clam Sauce. While they

waited for dinner, the waiter had left bread sticks for them.

He wasn't feeling very talkative, so Betty had let him be so far.

He watched with interest as she picked up her bread stick, slipped it into

her mouth and pulled the little seeds off by pulling the stick out of her

mouth. She had to repeat this several times to get all the seeds off. Then

she'd turn it around and work on the other end.

When she found several seeds remained, he found, she began to use her

little pink tongue to wet them down so they'd pop loose.

The images of bread sticks licked seductively, plunging them in and out

of her sweet lips, left his manhood strained against the crotch of his

pants. He determined it would be a bad time to stand up.

She was as deep in thought as he and was, as he watch, closing her eyes,

and opening her mouth a fraction of an inch. He found he could spot her

teeth closed lightly on the tip of her tongue when she did this. It

infuriated him to know she insisted on waiting until they got married to

share any real intimacy.

He wondered if she knew about the little turn on motions she made, or if

it was all just a part of her mannerism.

And wondering was the same as acting, for in an instant he had a thread

into her mind.

She was considering the wisdom of having expresso after the meal. She

knew it would keep her up most of the night, but she liked the strong

coffee flavor after pasta. She could tell Bob was tense, but why, she

asked herself.

He had been fine around the house, she thought he was developing some

real talents for property upkeep. In fact when she'd gotten to his house

this morning, the kitchen was spotless. She could almost believe he'd

spent much of the evening cleaning last night.

She enjoyed having him treat her well. This dinner was excellent,

although she really should have insisted on the Thai cuisine she was

more interested in tonight. He hadn't quite allowed her to manipulate

the decision as smoothly as usual. Somehow she miscalculated his

willingness to yield to her wants and was surprised when he hadn't

given in when she agreed to Italian. The ploy had always worked before.

She would make him take her to a movie. This would help both of them,

she decided. He'd lose the tension he was displaying with a nice

dramatic romance movie, she was sure. The care and feeding of  Bob, she

thought, I'm becoming the expert.

Annoyed, Bob withdrew the thread. He should have realized there was no

conscious effort to be sexy, seductive or mildly enticing on her part.

She was above such things in her own mind. A touch manipulative, but

she wasn't aware of those little sex cues she sent out in body language.

Maybe he should re-evaluate the relationship with her... no, he should

just modify it a bit. He grinned.

Betty took this as a sign he was perking up. There was no way for her to

know how this would change her life...


They were at the movie. It was some poor excuse for an artsy dramatic

romance. He was bored.

If only the flick had a touch of humor, rather than drowsy monotone

conversations, he might enjoy it. He liked romance, even tear jerkers,

but not painfully dragging ones. The only thing worse would be watching

nothing but TV commercials for two hours running.

So he began to scan the near vicinity for interesting minds to explore.

A narrow trail of thought wandering the neighborhood almost escaped

his attention. Not really thought, but in the spectrum he saw the

symbols in. It was narrow and straight, a bright beam of thought energy.

But Bob couldn't sense any symbols within the path, rather maybe he

could. It looked like a simple imperative demand for a subconscious

response, a sort of feedback ping.

Watching it closely, Bob concluded it was traversing a circle, not unlike

a radar. He traced back towards its source, but the closer his own probe

reached for the source, the harder it was to dodge away so the beam

missed him.

A quick jab at the heart of the beacon gave him a view of three men

sitting with a stack of electronic gear. He pulled back just in time not

to come in contact with the beacon... Could these be the 'hunters' from

yesterday's encounter?

He jabbed out and back again, trying to pull an impression from one of

the men. He no sooner established contact than it was over. There

wasn't any way to learn from this without being trapped in the

mysterious beacon. Where were these guys at least?

Then the beam stopped sweeping. He could sense they had locked onto

something. He pushed in again to see what he'd found. Tapping into the

senses of one of the men he found himself looking on as another pulled a

wirelike helmet over his head.

"Probably another guy, figured out he was telepathic, screwing anything

in skirts he can find." he heard a voice.

"That or some jerk, just taking things away from other people. They get

that way when they figure out no one can stop them. Usually, the

property branch can pick them up just by following the weird police

reports. You know, 'I lost my car- I gave it away, but I don't know how or

why', some Sparks got no imagination."

"Yeah, but it can go for months without one of the creeps popping up."

"The naturals are rare, ya know. You ain't gonna find large numbers of


Bob realized the man he had probed was a trainee and the explanations

were for his benefit, so to speak. Two great coincidental events!, the telepath

popping up just now, and a newly indoctrinated trainee to delve for info.

He dug in for information from this man.  These were the 'hunters', he

was sure. They were trying to find telepaths. No big surprise so far. They

worked for some kind of super secret research project. It was vague,

vaporous even, the mystery source of funds and the authority behind the


"My god!, its a woman!" One of the hunters exclaimed. "There aren't many

of them at the institute. The White Coats always wants another to study,

we may get a bonus!"

Suddenly interested, Bob determined this woman was one telepath that

would slip free of their net. First, with speed he didn't know he could

muster, he traced down their scanning beam, finding the woman.

{Flee, conceal your talent!} he sent.

{Who} she radiated {where are you?}

{hunters follow} he threw out cryptically {they'll catch you.} He

pulled her home address from her mind before slipping back to the


He quickly realized he'd made some kind of error, there were all kinds of

alarms going off. The trainee was fumbling with a small electronic

device, trying to get it over his right ear.

"hurry, we can't let her know anymore than she already does!" The other

man was helping the trainee. Suddenly, there was no one there for him

to read. Three lumps of emptiness he could feel but couldn't penetrate

had taken the place of the hunters he'd been watching.

Allowing himself to snap free, he found his constructed defense

personality had escorted Betty back to the car. My, he thought, it's nice

to be able to do two things at once.


Back at the house, he invited her in for a cup of Java. It was rare

for him to do this, but not unusual. He knew she'd insist on tea though.

"Oh Bob, I'd love to come in, but how about tea rather than coffee. It is so

much better for you at the end of the day."

She swept into the kitchen to start the water. Her hips moving with a

grace he'd admired before, but now he knew for certain how unconscious it

was on her part.

He only turned on the one lamp by the window. And he settled into his

favorite chair to wait Betty's return. Tonight he was determined to have

his coffee. He slipped a suggestion into Betty, the first he'd ever made to

Betty, that it would be a nice treat to make coffee for him this time. That

he'd be more malleable to her manipulation if she did something for him.

He could see her mind fight against the idea, eventually yielding before it

despite counter arguments from within her psyche. Egocentric little bitch,

he reflected.

She came out of the kitchen with two mugs.

"Surprise, I made your coffee anyway, but don't start a habit of drinking

this stuff at bed time, I won't stand for it!" She announced, presenting

herself as the authoritative decision maker. It was time for this to

change, he decided. He made a small adjustment, a little series of symbols

to magnify the importance of his opinions in her mind. To back it up, he

added a little program to make her question her own decisions whenever

they affected other people.

"Actually, I believe a cup of coffee is superior to tea late in the evening.

Helps keep you alert for those end of the day thoughts."

"Yes, yes. I suppose you're right." She confirmed smiling at him as though

her agreement was natural. She curled up on the floor, about six or seven

feet away from his chair. He watched her hover over her tea, sipping it

reflectively. Her head was bent slightly, and with the angle exposed to

him, he could make out the lines of her muscles and the supple skin from

her hair line to her shoulders.  Her hair, draped as it was across her

shoulder, reached to her lap.

He realized his reluctance to adjust her was fading, knowing just how self

centered she was. He was tempted to turn her into a little nymphomaniac

and set her loose in a football team locker, but no...

Bob put aside the coffee mug, and sidled up against her on the floor.

Startled, a bit, she looked up at him.

"Yes?" she spoke, as though the presidential debates was under


"Shhhh," he whispered. Bending his own head forward, he made a first,

almost puritanical kiss on her lips. He followed with a second, less

reserved entry in the same place. She allowed his tongue entry, but

didn't make any motion towards improving the embrace.

Leaning his forehead against hers, "come on Betty, open up a little bit,

enjoy some tenderness."

"Bob if this is leading to another discussion on sex, you can just forget

it right now!" He teased the nerves of her pussy and clitoris a touch.

From below he could see her body was already pushing a strong desire

up from the waist. He was stung by her venom, not the words, and

another discovery, that she was suppressing the heat herself from some

unconscious source.

"Relax a bit Betty." he commanded twice, with his voice and also with

the now all too familiar symbols from the book. She eased back,


He put her mug aside, still within reach. Then pulled her face gently to

his own, giving the best kiss he could bring from within himself. She

reluctantly cooperated, but didn't display the same passion.

He began to seek out the source of resistance from her mind.

Tracing back the streams of suppression into her unconscious, he found

the image of a little girl and a towering woman. The woman was

shouting about the evils men do, the horrors of submitting to sex, the

terrors of marriage, men must be controlled! He recognized the little

girl as Betty. Who was the woman though? she only bore a superficial

resemblance to Betty.

He formed an image of himself next to the little girl, staunchly

receiving a continuous lecture.

{who is that?} he whispered to her.

{That's mama, she knows everything.} replied the child worshipfully.

{Oh} He began to form another image of the woman, right next to the

first one. She began to lecture on the evils of self righteous behavior,

failure to live your own life, trying to run the lives of others. He

grinned. It might not be consistent to apply this debate to him, but it

might diffuse this fear Betty had of sex.

He hoped.

Slowly at first, but more quickly after a moment, the towering women

began to shrink and the little girl image began to fade into a more

mature image, more like the grown woman he knew.

He withdrew from her unconscious, and was pleased to see her body was

beginning to respond to the lusty necking session.

It was time to take the next step.

He pushed her onto her back, and began to shower her face and neck with

little kisses and love bites. Her lovely hair splayed out behind her head.

He brought a hand along the expanse of her shoulders, and drew it down

towards her breast.

"Please, Bob, don't" she whispered, following with a slight whimper as

his palm drew over the nipple. "oh!"

He concentrated on caressing the underside of her chin and neck with

his lips while he teased her breast with the most whispered touches.

"oh, Bob, I, I, I shouldn't. I can't, aaah, oh no."

"You are overdue, little child, and you will find no better man to yield to

than me." He allowed himself a touch of ego for the moment.

Watching her face, he began to unbutton her blouse. She turned her head

away, a tear, from confusion, drew a line across her nose.

He reached under the blouse to feel her tit. He was still massaging over

the fabric of her bra, but the nipple had become erect. Taking the tip

between his forefinger and thumb, Bob rolled the nipple tighter.

"Ooooh Bob."  Her hips had begun to writhe against his legs. She let out

another reluctant moan.

He stood up slowly, lifting her in his arms. She draped her arms over his

shoulders, around his neck. She burrowed her face into his armpit.

"No, Bob, no, please let me go home. I can't do this."

He ignored her plea.

He carried her to the bed, placing her on her back. She looked away as he

stripped off her blouse and bra, but moaned whenever he flicked his

tongue around her nipples.

She was still putting up a week resistance as he undid her pants and

drew them off of her glorious legs. He always did get a thrill from

admiring her well turned ankles. So he spent a interval providing a

teasing tongue lashing to those newly exposed appendages. She

whimpered and sighed, apparently uncertain what to expect.

He stepped out of his clothes, and lay alongside the nearly naked woman.

She didn't exactly refuse his embrace as he re-initiated the exploration

of her lips an mouth, but she wasn't enthusiastically joining in either.

Bob slipped another little control into her, pushing the hesitancy aside,

pulling her excitement forward. She started to make a few affirmative

actions on her own. Her hands started to trace across his chest,

exploring the handful of curly black hairs, discovering the shapes of his


He reached for her crotch, finding her panties were still in place. They

were skimpy, and showing a little age, holes in places near the elastic.

He hooked his fingers in them and ripped them away, eliciting a startled

gasp from Betty. Smiling, he worked his hand down between her legs and

cupped her womanhood.

"Bob, this is, Bob, we shouldn't, Bob" she was muttering, barely


She wasn't aware that she no longer had any choice. Even if she resisted

further, he had determined what he'd adjust, and how, to enforce her

cooperation. This didn't prove necessary, however, and she plastered her

body against him, plunging her tongue into his mouth.

Disengaging his mouth, entering her cunt with a finger, gave her a

wicked, possessive look.

"Want it, or not, Betty, I'm taking you tonight. You will be my

property  from now on." she pouted at his pronouncement, "You will

remain my chattel, and you will agree before you leave."

"But," and she loosed a groan of unadulterated lust, thrusting against his

fingers, "ooooh Bob!" He could feel the wave of lust washing her insides,

and along with it a sense of shame over her lost control.

Bob reached inside the bedstand drawer near at hand, pulling out a

condom. He'd gotten these yesterday just for Betty. He knew she

wouldn't be on the pill, but he wasn't going to let her escape his

penetration tonight.

"Watch now, you may be asked to do this for me later, and you wouldn't

want to make any mistakes." She watched as he rolled the latex mitten

over his erect penis, licking her lips anxiously as he did. He was

uncertain if she was worried about his entry or getting it right later.

"Oh Bob, your thing is so big." Her eyes were open as wide as he'd ever

seen them.

"Cock, Betty, say cock, or prick, or penis, or meat, or tool, or... Well,

Don't call it a thing, not ever again."

"Oh!" her eyes were wide open at the tone of command in his voice.

"Spread your legs now, wide enough to let me get my body in between."

She pulled her knees up towards her shoulder, craning her neck to see

what he planned to do. He moved his cock along the tender lips of her

cunt, teasing her a little. She gasped out a sound of mixed surprise and

pleasure, followed by little panting noises. Her hips seemed to try to

reach for him. He started to push into her recessed opening.

"Aaaah, Bob, I forgot, aaaahh." He paused a moment, to let her speak.

"You see, Bob, I've never, I mean, you know."

He smiled, "I already know you're a virgin, Betty." Her eyes showed he'd

understood, and she nodding affirmatively. Then he inched his way in,

pressed against an obstruction he'd never encountered before in sex.

She was his first virgin, although he was determined she would be only

his first.  She squealed in sharp pain as the hymen snapped. After a few

more strokes though, she was in ecstasy again.

"ooooh, Bob!" was followed by incoherent moaning and an occasional

whimper. He took his own time, because he liked watching the series of

pleasure/pain faces she was making.  she was heaving

herself against his penis, attempting to drive him deeper. She suddenly

went wild, lunging her hips, thrashing her head from side to side until

the long dark hair he admired covered her face.

His come started to flow internally. His eyes clenched he pulsed as the

tide of orgasm leapt within and erupted from his cock. She screamed

with delight from a wrenching orgasm of her own.

Probably, he reflected, her first and only so far. She came down from it

quickly enough, still panting from the physical release.

He rolled off and out of her. He patted her thighs before he got up to

dispose of the cum filled condom.

"On Monday, you go to your OBY/GYN and get a prescription for the pill so

we can do this any time." he announced. She simply nodded, and curled up

in pleasant repose.


He had gone to the bathroom. She was grinning at him when he returned.

"I made that pretty difficult to get to, didn't I." she was trying to re-

establish some kind of control. He could tell, and wasn't having any.

"As I said earlier, you are now my chattel. My personal property. Do you

know what I meant?"

"Not entirely, but I'll be your property if you'll be mine," she offered,

trying to entice him to relinquish some of his control. If she'd made an

offer like this two weeks earlier, he might be making wedding plans

with her right now. She was still egocentric, and he had already laid the

program in place for her change in attitude.

"No, I think you will become my pet. A sex slave and lover. My property

to use or dispose of as I will. You behaved very badly making me listen

to you whimper that we shouldn't screw. Now I think you need to be


"But," and he could clearly see in her hesitation the internal questioning

of her own views and justification of his. Her shame at the behavior she

still thought of as slutty also rose. Who better to punish her for

enjoying sex than Bob. "ohhh!"

"Why don't you take the cover to the laundry, right now, and get the

blood you dripped off?"

"But Bob, it's midnight!, I've got to get home or I won't get any sleep!"

"You're staying the night. In the morning, I want bacon and eggs, say an

omelet, ready by the time I get out of the shower."

His change in demeanor had her stumped. But she apparently felt his

assertions were appropriate. She folded the cover into a mass she could

carry and took it, stark naked, to the laundry downstairs.

He turned down the sheets and allowed himself a short nap while she



Bob felt Betty watching him with tenderness.

She had the cover folded on her naked lap as she sat on the edge of the

bed. He could sense  within her a thought he hadn't planted intentionally.

She had developed an obsession for him. Seeking inside her the source of

this obsession led him back to the source of resistance he'd dissolve


Instead of the towering mother image before the little girl, there was

now a towering image of himself speaking to the grown Betty who was

virtually worshipping at his feet. The image was  telling her she was

his property, she had to do as he said.

He withdrew the probe and opened his eyes. Well, he thought, interesting

that she needs an internal governor to keep her content. Now that she's

rid of mommy as a moral monitor, she'd selected him instead. Good

enough for now.

"Put it over the bed and get in. I want to sleep now." She nodded and

slipped between the covers. He felt her nestle her bare little tush

against his flaccid organ. He reached around her to cuddle her, cupping

one of her tits in his hand.

Shortly, he slept again.


He awoke, finding Betty with her eyes open. She didn't seem to want to

move, since he still had her wrapped in his arms. She smiled as his eyes

connected with hers.

"Good morning." she whispered, as though the neighbors might hear.

Little did she know, the neighbors were likely to be too busy with each

other to care if she stayed overnight.

"Mmmm, yeah." He untangled himself from her and looked at the clock.

"Well, I gotta get up. You can make breakfast, just the way you are."

Her face fell the tiniest bit, but perked right up again.

"Right away!" she zipped out of the room.

Bob took another slow, sensuous shower, enjoying the water's warmth.

He got himself thoroughly cleaned up, shaved, and dressed. When he got

downstairs, Betty had managed, even naked, to get the table set, make

the omelet and bacon he'd ordered last night, and clean some of the

associated mess in the kitchen. Good girl, he thought.

"May I get dressed now, Bob?" she inquired. Her dark hair was tickling

the top of her ass, and where strands of it dropped down the front, it

almost slipped into her delectable little pussy.

"Ah, no, I'm enjoying the view." he muttered, wondering if he could hold

his urges back until after he ate. She shrugged and sat at the other plate

she'd put out.

He added some salt and pepper to the omelet, and began to eat. She

waited with her hands in her lap.

"You may eat too, I wouldn't want you to go hungry." She gave a wanton

look at him and began to dig in.

"Now, this week I expect you to start the process of moving in here. And

I don't want any little nonsensical garbage taking up too much space, so

check with me if you've any doubt what can stay."

"Oh, really!, I can probably move everything in by Wednesday!" She was

now rather gleeful as she attacked the bacon. He hung on every glimpse

of her pink tongue darting for the corners of her mouth.

"And you'll help Randi move in too." he added. The seemed to shake her

like a thunderbolt!


"Randi, another sex toy I own, a lot like you, only I think she likes

girls  a bit."

Apprehension overtook the naked girl, she was suddenly trying to cope

with the concept of sharing him, and possibly fending off the advances

of a predatory lesbian!

"She's very nice, I assure you. The two of you will get along

famously."  He added, watching her struggle with his evidently

superior opinion  against her childhood trained fears. He threw in

something else to get  her mind on something else, "I'd like you to

try harder to wear sexier outfits around the house too."

"Okay Bob, if you'd like that, I'll see what I can do."

Soon he'd finished eating. He pushed his chair out and watched her clean

the plate before her.

"Since you are being so helpful this morning, you'd better take care of

another little detail right now."

"Oh, what...?" she looked puzzled. He beckoned her to him.

She had the same sexy walk without the encumbering clothing although,

he felt, some concealment added a touch to the effect. She stepped to

him and brushed her hair back over her shoulders.

"Kneel down." still puzzled she did, "now you are going to blow me."

Shocked, she shook her head with terror, as though he was about to

throw her to wild tigers. He grinned.

"You will do this for me, but since you are frightened, why don't you

tell  me what scares you about going down on me."

"I, I just couldn't take your th.., cock in my mouth! Its dirty! and,

er,  disgusting..." He eased each of her fears aside within her, as

she  mentioned them. Taking control of her volitional muscles he began

bringing her lips to his prick. He pushed the control to the point her

lips  opened and that favorite little pink tongue he liked to watch

snaked out  and slid across the head of his organ. Gawd, that felt


"I, , can't do this. It,  its vulgar!" She said between

licks. He  firmly took a handful of the long dark hair in his fist,

holding it so she  couldn't move away. Not that this was necessary,

but it felt so good to  hold while he fucked her tender face.

"You'll do it, and probably find you like it." a fact he was sure of,

although he didn't enforce this enjoyment on her part yet. "Open up a


Taking the head into her mouth she rolled his cock between both sets

of  teeth. She was still somewhat repulsed at this demanding method of

entry to her body, but she was showing determination to please Bob.

"Eventually, I will take your ass too. You should get used to the idea

that  I will take you whenever and where-ever I want. Agreed?" He

pulled out  to let her speak.

"Oh, uh, yes Bob, any time, any place." She dove into her new task

with  energy, if not experience. He relented a little, opening the

paths of  symbols that would allow her enjoyment while blowing him.

She became  more enthusiastic, almost immediately. She found any loose

edge or  surface on his prick to reach her tongue around. He started

pulling her  head towards him, starting her retching from the

autonomic response of  gagging. He allowed her to pull back to

recover. While she did he moved  her hands for her to wrap around his

cock, she got the idea quickly and  massaged it until she could get

her lips back in place around her new  project. He thrust towards the

back of her throat and allowed his  orgasm to build.

"I'mmm commming," he admitted as he pushed towards the back of her

mouth. She looked concerned, but as his semen lurched from his penis

to  her mouth she closed her eyes and swallowed. Pulling back, while

he  was still coming, some of his come splattered over her face.

He settled back, enjoying the post orgasm buzz.

She reached for a napkin. He stopped her hand with his. She looked

quizzically at him.

"You will clean up after breakfast without removing the semen from

your face. This will serve to remind you who you belong to. Then you

may take a shower and dress. Get to work."

"Yes Bob." she responded.

"One more thing."


"When we are alone or with my other sex toys, you will address me as

'master'." She looked down, as though this was another slap in the

face. But he could feel the humiliation bringing heat to her loins. It

would wait, just as he'd waited months before taking her.

"Yes master." was the simple reply.

He zipped up his pants.


"Hello?" came the woman's voice on the phone.

"Randi, this is Bob."

"Yes, Bo..., er master?"

"I want you to start the process to move in here, you will find Betty

here this afternoon. She will give you a copy of the house key." "Oh yes!,

I mean, yes master!" She'd certainly turned, he thought. "One other

thing. You don't touch her. Do you hear me?"

"Yes master."

"She will have as much right to tell you what to do as I do, at least for

now, do you understand?"

"Um, yes master."

"Bye." Click.


About noon, the doorbell rang. Pretty quick for Randi to get here,

thought Bob. Since Betty was in the shower, he knew she hadn't stepped

out to get anything.

At the door was a tall woman, about 5'11" wearing a dress suit in gray.

She had very short brownish hair, almost as if it had been shaved off

and had just grown back in enough to look presentable. She was slender,

very busty, and had attractive ankles showing above the flats she was


"Hello." she said in a deep throaty voice. A whiskey tenor perhaps.

"How may I help you?" he asked. The temptation to reach out and probe

this stranger was strong, but he resisted.

"May I come in? The institute knows me by face and may have searchers


"The what?" He replied, stunned by the implication that she had found

him, rather than the other way around.

"At the mall Friday, you diverted them away from me. Please?" She

waved her hand inwards.

Bob stood aside, letting the other telepath into his home, wondering

what her story was.


Part 4

        	***** Public Service Statement *****


        The following story contains a 'scene' with a lactating woman.


        This is at least in part because of the number of responses I

        received from a number of readers who caught the mild hint in an

        earlier entry of _The Book_ series. Apparently many people share this

        particular fetish, although it is not a simple task to attain the

        experience. In part, this is because women who are nursing may or may

        not let the kid's father nurse, but a woman would need a very special

        relationship to nurse another woman. Them's da breaks.


        A few items of interest on nursing mothers...



        nursing her baby, she is feeding the child, not posing for someone's

        fantasy. It is hard enough to nurse an infant, don't make it harder on

        any woman you happen to see in the middle of the act. Ignore it, look

        the other way, or even better, treat it as a natural act- the same as

        walking or talking. Do not annoy someone trying to raise their baby



        More mothers are nursing children on the recommendation of doctors for

        a simple reason. It's healthier for the baby to nurse. Doctors in the

        US will acknowledge the child's first 3-6 months should be nourished

        by nursing.


        There are a reasons it is healthier for the baby, including the

        biological-chemical signals from the mother's immune system to the

        baby delivered via the milk.


        It's also healthy for the mother; a significant percentage reduction

        in the risk of breast cancer results from nursing for a reasonable

        duration (I forget the actual statistic, does it matter?).


        Lastly, it is probably the most important part of emotional bonding

        between the mother and the infant. In their entire lives, there is no

        more intimate act the two will perform together. This assertion TM by

        a variety of child care pundits.


        If you are interesting in Breast Feeding your child (not the adult

        infant you keep as a pet), I strongly recommend you contact, in the

        US anyway, the _La Leche League_ (I've been known to call them 'the

        leaky league'). They have active chapters in most communities.

        Although I personally feel they have an anti-male bias, frequently

        ignoring an important support element of the mother's family - the

        father; I assure you they are a good organization, helping mothers

        learn to nurse their children in the face of social stigma and



        Interesting points... 1) a woman need not go through child birth to

        begin lactation, 2) lactating doesn't protect against pregnancy

        (contrary to popular myth), 3) Men *can* lactate, but the conditions

        permitting this biological oddity are brutally unhealthy.


        End of religious diatribe.


        ** THAT SAID **


        There is *enormous* sensual pleasure suckling at a lactating woman's

        breast. The act is more giving and emotional on both parties part in

        addition to the simple sensualistic performance. This can lead to

        several fun scenes, which may be explored in the story line

        following. Wanna lay odds on that?


Part 4...

			_Book, What Book?_

Bob looked at the clock. It was a little after noon.

The tall woman in the gray suit now sat in his arm chair, drinking a

cup of caf. Bob had a plastic cup filled with soda. She said her name

was Kim, and that was all she'd offered so far.

Betty had gotten the woman her hot drink. Kim had snorted at her and

dismissing her as unimportant, at least for now. Betty hovered in the

kitchen, spying whenever possible on this unusual visitor.

"How did you discover you've got the 'ability'?" asked Kim.

"I read a book."

"A what!?!"

"A book. I found a book filled with interesting notes. Before I knew

it, I could read mind and influence people. Honest."

"Oh, such as your friend?" she waved her head in the direction of

the kitchen, where Betty was noisily putting the breakfast dishes away.

"I never had it so good, I didn't get any lectures or notes. So what

have you done with the little tart so far?"

His ears burned red with embarrassment, "Never mind her. Where did

you learn how to, um, well, you know..."

At this she snaked out a telepathic probe towards Betty. Quickly, Bob

intercepted it and slapped it aside. Startled, she sent a probe towards

him. It slithered around, confused in the phony personality he'd

created for telepaths to see. He just sat back, pleased with her

confusion, feeling his safety was assured.

"Oh, my... protective too," she said, eyeing him closely. The look in

her eyes akin to fear.

"Stick with the subject at hand. Where did you learn to use your,

'ability' did you call it?"

"Ability, yes, ability... well," she became reflective, "for me, you

see, before life turned upside down I was a Buyer, for Cheney's.

Perhaps you've heard of them? The department store chain?"

He nodded an affirmative, but didn't speak, encouraging her dialogue.

"I never would have developed my 'ability' if it weren't for Harry...

I was just briefly in town for a new line of merchandise, never mind

what, it no longer matters. That's when I saw Harry for the first

time. The real problem wasn't me seeing him; it was unquestionably an

issue of him seeing me..."


She entered the store in her favorite silk pattern blouse, and a knee

length skirt when he spotted her. Her hair was in a mane like perm,

down to her shoulder blades and dyed blonde in an almost undetectable

way, except her complexion was a little dark to make a good fit.

She had soft brown eyes he could see from the corner of the room. Her

lips formed a lush cupid's bow, and her nose was perfectly framed in

the center of the other lovely features of her face. Her expression,

a seductive perpetual pout with her eyelids lightly drooped, was


She was tall to begin with and wore 3 inch heel shoes in an 1940's

style he could only remember seeing before in old movies. Her shape

through the hips was only slightly curved, but her chest, well her

chest stood out indescribably far.

He had been using his power for a day when he'd seen her, but he knew

immediately he had to have her. His approach was simple and direct,

he ordered her to turn about immediately and go to his home.

He picked up the packages he'd 'purchased' so far, making the sales

girl believe he was entitled to such gifts.

Of course, the other gifts he accepted from her before he left included

squeezing her tits, groping her cunt, and that great blow job. He made

sure to get her phone number, ordering her to forget the encounter.

She even told him how wonderful it was to serve him, with a

godalmighty radiant smile. He'd told her to, after all.

The power made him giddy. Harry, oh you know, he was the kind of guy

who now believed he was God. He'd always knew he was entitled to

anything he wanted, no matter how he got it, and now, well, now he got



She was waiting, somewhat glossy eyed at the door to his apartment

when he arrived. His command of the talent was a little odd. He seemed

to think it was hypnosis, and his orders tended put his chosen ones

into trances.

"I'm going to take some of my orders off you. When I do, you will be

unable to leave, but able to speak your on your own. You understand?"

She didn't respond. It took him a moment to figure he hadn't let go

enough to let her do so. This was new for him too. Up until now, all

he did was force girls he'd taken to perform sex with him. This was

making him happy so far. But he was gonna step up. She was gonna talk

to him too.

"What have you done to me?" she demanded. She would have stamped a

foot, but didn't seem able to move it.

"Taken control. You will do anything I say, and at least act like you

like it too." he answered.

"You disgusting brute. There are names for creatures like you, but I

won't insult the others by associating you with them!"

"Step inside please," he said opening the door.

"Not on your fucking life!, I'm going to scream!" She began to do so,

but, Harry's seen that before. He smiled.

"Every time you scream for help, instead you will beg for me to hit

you. If you try to call or ask for help when other folks are around,

you will have an urge to nibble sexily on my ear."

"Please hit me," came from her mouth, much to her surprise. "oh, no."

she clasped her hands over her disobedient lips.

He waved her inside. Kim found her feet and legs were answering to

another set of commands than her own. She walked inside.

The apartment was a dump. No one had cleaned inside for at least a

week. The art on the walls was mostly pin-ups from pornographic

magazines, or tasteless posters for violent horror movies.

"You don't really expect me to stay, do you?" she tried again to turn

and leave, "I simply won't put up with this!"

"Oh, you have no choice. If I want, you'll crawl to me on your belly

and beg me to keep you in a kennel. Good thing for you all I want is

a good fuck. You'll like it."

"That's it!" and she walked, no she didn't! so she said "hit me, I beg

you, hit me." Tears ran down her cheeks.

He was giggling, in a sneering sort of way. Harry thought this was

more fun than just turning the other girls into pliant blow-up dolls.

She stood, stunned at her inability to control her own body.

"Get undressed in the bedroom. I'm gonna get a beer, and I'll be in

in a moment." He sneered a little. She realized his sneer could get


Her volition missing, she went to the bedroom. This proved to be a

room strewn with clothing, probably the pile against the corner were

the clean ones. A mattress lay on the floor. The sheet was loosely

tucked under it in a few places.

Her beautiful silk blouse she folded up next to her shoes. The skirt

was placed upon the blouse. Her high heels were put along to one

side. She was unsnapping the bra when Harry came in.

"WOW." he exclaimed. "Those are the largest fucking bazooms I've ever

seen on a broad." He took the immediate liberty of wrapping both hands

around one breast and squeezing.

His expectation of her response didn't mesh with her actual response.

He wanted a moan or a sigh, and when this didn't come he frowned. He

added a new command.

"You'll get hot every time I touch you. This will make you get horny

and want to come. But you can't come 'til I say so."  and then he

used the power to make her do as he said.

Harry was very sexy. She could now see how handsome he was. He had

her nipples between his fingers and was twisting them, very hard.

This had an effect of drawing sexual heat through her chest. Her

knees wanted to buckle, but she had to get to the bed.

She was kissing Harry. She just wrapped her arms around his neck and

dove into his lips. He was great! There wasn't enough to him to get

her desires fulfilled. She didn't know how she had missed it before!

She rubbed her breasts on either side of his lust covered face. Her

feminine hands felt for Harry's prick in his crotch.

Since his pants were in the way, she began to strip them off him. She

couldn't move far without rubbing her crotch against some part of

Harry's body. The more she touched him or the more he touched her, the

farther she went down the path of desire. Yet it was a yearning for

an orgasm that wasn't coming.

"Okay slut. You're so fucking hot. You gotta get me hot. Start suckin'

my wang." he pushed her head down to his crotch.

She'd actually never performed oral sex before. As she placed the male

organ in her mouth, she began to suck it like a straw. This made her

hot too, since just touching Harry was enough to make her lust for

orgasm, and desperate for more. Unsastified by her clumsy efforts, he

fucked her wet mouth with force, plunging against the teeth at the back,

unconcerned how it worked out.

"Suck it, cunt. Yeah suck it." He continued to pump, thrilled about

the incredible woman wringing his juices out of his cock. "oooohh,

yeaa.. fukit fukit... uhhh."

A surge of come entered her mouth, she choked, not thinking to

swallow. The come dribbled out the sides of her mouth and down her

chin to drip on Harry's legs.

"You fukin' bitch! Don't you know enough to swallow it?" He shouted,

his displeasure overriding his enjoyment. Somehow, he overlooked his

explicit control of her behavior.

She shook her head, upset that she'd failed to please Harry. She

swallowed what was left, and began to clean him off with her tongue

and lips.

"Yeah, use your tongue bitch! Clean it all off." She did as told,

aroused again by the contact. Her body was humping at the hips madly.

Her legs were squeezing together in sheer lust. She began to feel her

own cunt and clit, trying to get off without success.

She was licking the come off his balls and cock. Soon it began to stiffen

up again. She was pleased. Now he could get her off. She wanted his

cock inside her. She didn't care how brutal he acted as long as she

got to have him.

"All right!" He slammed her onto her back. She anxiously, with

excitement, pulled her legs apart so he could gain easy access. He

couldn't get in her womanly box fast enough for her.

He pinned each of her wrists above her head, allowing himself a better

view of the helpless woman. She could sense that bruises would grace

both arms and wrists afterwards. Fighting through the haze of

orgasmic lust, she hoped for the release to come. Hoping the

frustrating wait for orgasm would reward her with the energy it was


He pushed his prick between her cunt lips, thrusting his entry once

the head was in. The heat surged upwards from her groin, not yet

breaching her chest and throat. She pulsed against his cock, hoping

for each pistoned join to throw her over, glad of the chance to

take such pleasure with Harry.

Harry, lost in her cunt, was in heaven. Such a righteous chick to

take. The strongest aphrodesiac ever, this power to force her. She

was all his, she couldn't leave. He would even give her a name, one

he liked, and she would like it too.

His body pressed against hers, he could feel her nipples. She felt the

shock of electric excitement spin through her boobs. She needed this

fuck so badly. Harry was the best.

Suddenly, he grunted. "ungh, ungh aaaaaaaa FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK" and he

sent a warm liquid rush into her cunt. She could feel it flood through

her vagina, escaping around the edges of his cock. The dripping

overflow tickled the backs of her thighs and slipped over her ass.

Harry rolled aside. Kim kept trying to hump against his legs. Her

fevered pitch was becoming higher and more frantic. She had to come,

only he could make her. As if she were a dog in heat, she kept trying

to get his attention.

She held his leg against her crotch, with her head performing

whiplash twists as she moaned, "Please, ooooo, pleeaase, unnng,

ooohhh, aaannngg, gggg, ggg ggg, nnnnghh. Oh fuck me, pllllleeeaaaaa,

aah aaah ahhh, ssssss"

Almost as if he didn't really want to acknowledge her, he said, "You

slut, heh, can I call you slut now?"

"Yess, fuck me, fuck me, call me, uh, anything you want, slut is

fine, please, just please, fuck me." Then Harry took one nipple in

his mouth and bit down, hard. This sent a jolt of sexual pleasure

through her body.

"You're my fuckin' bitch now. Say it. Say you belong to me."

"God, yes. please fuck me, unnh, I, unnn"

"Not until you say it bitch. Say you are mine, all mine."

"GGGnnn! I'm your slut, your bitch, aaaa, gawdamn, fuck me please

fuck me."

He grinned with superiority. "Come when I stick my finger up your

ass...," he commanded.

"Oh god, unnnhhh, please... fuck..." she moaned deeply. She'd never

liked anything in her ass before, but she'd do anything for the final

jolt of orgasm that was building. "GOD!, please take my ass soon.


He lost his face in her large tits again. She was desperate to come,

unwilling to irritate him, her greatest desire was to please him,

to convince him to make her come. She begged, she pleaded for his

finger, for any touch of that finger, in her ass right away.

He moved a hand onto her ass. The cheek was firm and muscular. She

lurched in both arousal and anticipation. Both cheeks were pinching

in and out to excite her pussy. With a suddenness, borne of taunting,

he plunged a finger up her ass. This too gave her unexpected

pleasure, but most importantly, the release she was waiting for...


And began to collapse, limp as a dish rag.


He took her again. Each time in a way she'd heard of but never dreamed

she'd find enjoyable. His turn-on seemed to be anything he could force

on her, and she would like it. He was always in charge, always

calling the shots, always overriding her initial feelings. She was

expected to remember what he liked, and do it for him without being


He called her Bambi. He said it suited her. She felt particularly

humiliated by this, she'd known a woman named Bambi who was a

prostitute. When he learned this he was particularly proud of

himself. She was only to answer to Bambi whenever anyone addressed


He programmed her to come whenever he held her wrist and squeezed her

elbow. She had some lurching, far less than secret orgasms on public

buses, in the bank, outside a high school window. The little boys

were lewdly staring through the windows. She could imagine their wet

little dongs, dripping in their pants. He made her come twice that


Once, it was a crowded elevator. He told her to expose her boobs to

the guys on the elevator. Everyone was allowed a feel, he insisted.

He allowed her to accept money from one of the men, embarrassing her

even more.

The humiliation excited her almost as much as his touch. He made her

come for every man on that elevator at least once, and blow the last

guy on the top floor. She wasn't allowed to swallow the semen until

they got back downstairs.

He got other women, when she got a little boring. Then she did things

like video-tape him when he was screwing. But he was too thrilled with

her huge tits to let her go...

She lived with him for almost a year this way. She prayed he would

never throw him out. She needed him so badly, needed the humiliation,

the public shame. He was her dream man. The man she knew she always

needed. She came to feel this was certain. She'd never known a better


He decided he needed a new apartment. Since there was no reason to

pay for anything he could get free, it was a large apartment. And he

got a maid to come clean it up. She also did his prick once in


Bambi didn't mind. It was important for her to see him using other

women too. She wanted him to have some variety. He kept her though,

so she must be better, she felt.

He collected a few nice cars for himself. And a good stereo, some

furniture that wasn't shabby at all, thank you. Nor were the two

legged furniture he collected shabby either.

And eventually, he collected some new friends, unexpected friends.


They came while he was out. Several large men with hypodermics.

They'd given her a shot, not at all concerned that she was naked in

high heels when she answered the door. A few minutes later, she slept.

When she awoke she was in a bedroom, an entire wall was mirror. She

screamed for Harry for a while. She thought he must have come up with

a new way to embarrass her, maybe selling her into a brothel.

A man came in from time to time to ask her questions; who was she?

(Bambi), where did she live? (with Harry), what did she do? (fuck


At one point a different man came in and tried to fuck her. What he

really did was try to seduce her in a very before-she-met-Harry

manner. The idea someone was watching from behind the mirror was

exciting, but not enough to get her engines going.

The man was disappointed, but didn't seem upset with her.

Later, a woman tried the same thing. Bambi, wasn't interested, thank

you. Harry said such things were disgusting, she thought it was

pretty vile too.

It was after she got frustrated about not getting laid, she had no

idea why, the change came.

The next time a man came to ask her questions. He had no idea what he

was in for...


She reached out with her mind and made him slap her. Her loins rose,

entirely aflame. She did something to him, making him use his

strength to force himself on her.

In moments, he'd torn off the clothes she'd been given, thin hospital

like things. He twisted her nipples as hard as he could, sitting on

her to keep her from fighting back. She would have scores of new

bruises afterwards. She loved it.

She was hot and ready. Her cunt was drenched. He wrenched her arms

behind her back, pushing her on her back to hold them there. Then he

used his knees to separate her legs and opened his pants up one


While her head was thrashing left to right, emitting gasps and the

beginnings of a panting rhythm, he pressed his cock into her. She'd

done something to hold him back for a time, she wasn't sure what.

He pounded away at her, giving her biting kisses that bruised her lips

in ways she found tantalizing. From time to time he slapped her

breasts open handed. Almost invariably, somewhere she wanted it.

"aaaannnNNNNGGGGGGOOOOOOODAMMMMMM!" she screamed, releasing an orgasm

to rival the one she'd first had with Harry. The man began to fill her

with his come, squeezed almost dry by the combination of her muscled

cunt and his intensity. He collapsed immediately, completely spent.

While she lay there, panting with only reminiscences of the release,

several men rushed in the room. The needles stabbed her before she'd

known what hit her. The pain was a pleasant aftershock.

How did they know she was responsible for the whole thing...?


"Eventually, I woke up in a lab. These guys had something that

stops you from controlling them. They shaved my head to attach some

kind of monitoring equipment. I think it was a couple of weeks before

I got away though, it might have been longer."

"How'd you do that?" Bob asked.

"Some people never remember to check batteries." So, he thought, a

carelessness they may never repeat, "One day, one of the guys forgot

it for his whiz box. I got control and he helped me escape. Not before

I got to see how telepaths are treated, though. Harry, well, Harry is

as good as dead."

"And they've hunted you ever since."

"Well, I set myself up for a while, even had a bunch of toy men to

serve me. Like you have that little twat on a leash." she grinned a

weak grin, "its nice to have 3 men at once, at my beck and call.

Especially since they did exactly what I wanted. But somehow the

Institute found my hideout."

"They've got a radar like gimmick they use to search out telepaths."

"I may have gotten careless. I went to visit Harry's old place.

Friday at the mall I was trying to shake the ones watching for me to

come back. You bailed me out by distracting them. I got your address

from, um, well, you know."

"I think so. Well, there's at least one more telepath out there we should

help stay away from these goons. But you should relax first. Where

have you been staying?"

"In one of the department stores. No one sees me unless I want them


"I see. I don't want you here though, you know."

"Um, well yeah, think I might interfere with your little trollop, eh?'

His ears burned again. Betty was making too much noise to hear

anything though.

"Oh, the possibility had occurred to me. But it also occurs to me,

both of us are threatened as long as the 'Institute' is hunting for

anyone with, er, 'ability'. And you might draw them to me and the

other way around too."

"Look, I'll promise to leave your 'toys' be, I'll even join in if you

want. I get awfully horny, and Harry isn't around anymore. I don't

even know what of me was his instructions and how much was me before

Harry." she made a sincere plea.

"Yeah, I'll think on it. The idea of another telepath in the house

just is a little hard to accept. It may be a little complicated."

Reluctantly, she left an address with him. But not before giving

Betty a withering look of disapproval. Betty didn't notice.

Bob did.


Bob was in an apartment building near the mall. It was Thursday. His

excitement had returned, the 'hunters' a distant threat. He hadn't yet

decided what to do about Bambi nee Kim. But he felt a need to practise

his talent.

Since Betty had started to take over the household chores, little

things he had lost had been turning up. Organization had come to his

home. Betty didn't like sharing him with Randi, and strongly disliked

being left alone with "the pushy dyke".

She hadn't completely given up hope of being dominant in some manner

over the household. Mostly, she and Randi had begun to compete for

his attention by any means possible. So she strove to please him in

ways other than sexual too.

He'd found a slip of paper on his dresser. One of them had found it in

his papers and left it where he'd find it. This had the name and

address of a young woman on it. It took him a few minutes to recall

where this had come from.

She'd never met him, but he remembered her from the mall. She was

lusting after new mothers walking throughout the mall. Suddenly he was

enticed to seek her out.

He found the address easily. He resisted the temptation to use his

talent right away, so he rang the bell, but no one answered. He found

the superintendent. Soon he was in Mary McKinnon's apartment, and no

one would remember seeing him enter.

Somehow, to Bob, pawing about in Mary's apartment was as exciting as

intruding into her mind. He had found another means of violating her,

without her having any ability to resist. The mundane nature of

intrusion was unimportant. He was having his way with her more simply

than his present norm, a pleasurable working of his will on hers.

Hell, he hadn't even met her yet. The excitement was growing in him.

Looking through her things, he was able to learn where she'd gone to

school. He found her check stubs and learned about things she bought.

Her closet was filled with pants suits, mostly. There were a very few

dresses, and nothing he construed as sexy. Everything he found he

restored to its original location.

In her desk, he found a pile of letters from her brother, dated over 5

years ago. And a few letters from other friends.

He heard keys being juggled at the lock. Turning out the lights, he

watched the door open as she stepped inside. She closed the door

again, and turned about, placing her purse on a narrow table she kept

by the door. She turned on the lights, and stepped into the kitchen.

He was intrigued by this enigma. He hadn't probed her since the mall.

She made noise in the kitchen for a while, and he simply waited. When

she finally came into the living room, she jumped with a terror

brought of confronting an intruder.

"Hello Mary." he uttered in a low voice.

"Who the hell are you and how the fuck did you get in here?!?" she

demanded scrambling towards the phone.

"I came with a proposition to make." She stood, receiver in hand,

much reassured by the dial tone. "I could have cut the phone cord if

I wanted to, before you got here."

"I guess so," she paused, "Make it quick though, my patience is thin

for this kind of crap. You broke into my home buster, and I'm gonna

see you pay." She was shaking.

"Actually, the police can't arrest me. But as to you and me, I have a

proposition. You may want to hear it." Wow!, all he'd had to do so far

was talk, she'd gone from kill first to talking.

"Get to it then, then get the hell out."

"You like women."

"I like men."

"You might, but you also want a woman, specifically, you want one

giving milk. You've been having this fantasy for a while." she shook,

as with a chill.

"yes," she whispered, the fear rising just the least amount, "I do.

But nobody knows that. Nobody. I haven't told a soul."

"Well I can arrange it for you."

"How the fuck would you do a thing like that," she banged the phone on

the switch hook. "'Excuse me Mrs., I just happen to know a girl who

wants to suck milk from your tits, would you mind coming to her

apartment tonight?', give me a break!"

He smiled. The smile shook her.

"Something a lot like that, really."

"Oh great!, sure. And what, pray tell, is in it for you!?" she


"You wouldn't believe me entirely. Let us say, I want to share the

carnal experience." he thought about vampires now, sucking the sexual

energy from victims in the act. Silly thought, more reasonable to

assert he was sucking the fantasy from his victim's act tonight. "I

have a talent. It's a powerful skill allowing me a certain persuasive

ability. I'm trying real hard not to use it on you."

"Why not, you'd get exactly what you want, if you really have the

unique skill you claim."

"Oh, it's real enough. You want a demonstration?"

"Why? you can't give milk... men can't give milk. So who would you

persuade into giving her milk to me?"

"Men can sometimes give milk, irrelevant though. Is one of the

mothers you've leered after in the building?"

She sat down. The phone, still in her hand began to ring. She jumped.

He didn't. She answered and shooed the caller away.

"There's Patty, on the first floor. I see her when I do laundry

sometimes." Mary was showing signs of the dreamy fantasy intruding on

the conversation. "God, she's cute. Her boobs sometimes drip the milk

after she's nursed little Anna. They're almost twice as big as they

were before she got preggers. She doesn't show any sign of having

gained weight from the pregnancy."

"Can you call her? Its only about 8:30, ask her to come up here."

Reluctantly, she dialed the number.


She had him answer the door. She wasn't leaving the phone. Bob didn't

mind. He wouldn't let her dial more than two digits anyway.

The woman at the door was carrying a baby carrier. She also bore a

large bag, easily identified as a diaper bag. This woman evidently

was using disposable diapers. Bob refrained from his environmentalist

reaction to the disposables.

The child, sound asleep, bore the same striking resemblance of all

babies to cherubs. Finally unencumbered, Patty was able to stand

straight and Bob took in the assets she displayed.

Her dark hair was cut short, to her ears. Bob reflected this was wise

considering the disgusting things long hair could get into around

babies. She was without makeup, but still had an unblemished face,

with round soft lips. Her shoulders were wide, but the breasts were

showing themselves larger than he'd expect with her frame, probably

hadn't nursed the baby recently. Her hips were a little padded, but

her waist was slender and flat.

"Patty, this is, um, Bob. He's visiting for a few minutes."

He reached out and took some control over Patty. Then he, dramatically

for the impression Mary would get, walked to her and held her eyes

locked onto his for a moment.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Mary said.

"You want to suck milk from her tits?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't want you to hurt her either."

Bob shrugged and smiled at Mary.

"Patty," he gave verbal instructions, "Mary is more than your friend.

She is your second baby. You need to nurse your second baby. She's

been crying and you know she's hungry."

Patty smiled at Mary, took her by the hand. She led the other woman to

her couch. Sitting down so Mary could lay her head on her lap, she

lifted the t-shirt she wore and opened a flap on her nursing bra. A

moment later she lifted Mary's head and lips to her nipple and

cradled her head in her arm.

"There, there, sweetheart. Its all right. Mommy loves you, time for a

bit of nursing." Her face peered down adoringly at Mary, one hand

stroking the gentle features of Mary's face.

Mary was sucking, having forgotten Bob entirely for the moment. He

could see her cheeks pull in with the suction, as at the same time she

began to wiggle at the hips. Mary's hand slid down to her crotch and

began rubbing through the fabric of her jeans.

"Unbutton them." he said. Remembering he was there, she glared, but


Patty's free hand moved to the supine woman's open pants. The fingers

worked their way under the panties. Seconds later the hand was making

humping motions in Mary's crotch.

Patty, oblivious to the sexual antics of her neighbor, and her own

hand, looked briefly to see her first baby was doing well.

"unnhh," Mary was starting to fade into deep excitement. Her suckling

theft of milk was only part of her activities. Her hips were

beginning to roll and gyrate under the administration of Patty's


Bob, excited a little himself, could see the dripping nipple from time

to time. He realized the nursing woman was starting to soak through

her t-shirt at the other breast. Kneeling over Mary's chest he lifted

the t-shirt to expose the other breast, harnessed in a bra cup with a

snap clasp front. He opened this, unwrapping the last vestige of

protection for the wet nipple.

Patty's breast was extremely firm from the engorgement of milk, this

tit was full. Watching the nipple he could see the milk spraying, in

several directions at once. The suckling at the other nipple got this

one started as well. Placing his lips around the puffy nipple he

found it was spurting milk in tiny thin streams of fluid.

The milk was sweet, he found, very sweet, and very thin. It was

almost like skim milk someone had added a bit of sugar to. He sucked

until he got a mouthful of the thin sugary liquid, then swallowed.

He swallowed as much as he could get. He was becoming very horny, but

he was unwilling to stop nursing while a drop remained. He knew she'd

produce more for the baby. The breast slowly began to sag as he

emptied the precious nectar from her. His thirst for the rare ambrosia

was unquenchable, he felt frustrated at the slow rate the milk flowed

from the woman's breast.

Meantime, Mary reached a state where she could no longer suck. The

moans were spectacular. "Oh god. What, oh, fuck, make me come baby.

make me come." she was a step a way and Patty kept fingering her while

Bob sucked the teat. "Oh! oh! oh! oh, YESSSSSSSS!" and Mary clenched

with spasms from coming. She lay panting, beneath him, trying to

recover from her orgasm.

Patty, under Bob's direct control, caressed his hair as he enjoyed the

stolen nourishment. It thrilled him to have Mary trapped beneath him

while he fulfilled her fantasy for himself. He got up after another

moment. Then he took off his pants.

"What are you doing!?" Mary asked, it seemed she was not expecting

him to actually join in.

"You got off, I want to get off." He moved Patty to the floor, drawing

her jeans off her legs. He pulled off her panties and spread her legs.

"You're disgusting. Her baby is right there."

"The child is asleep. You should talk about disgusting. You wanted to

suckle at a new mother's breast. Well, I gave you your fantasy. I'm

also enjoying her pussy." He plunged his prick into the mesmorized

mother's cunt. He pumped his cock in a few times to work the moisture

into flowing.

Mary, intrigued by her friend's complacency at being fucked by a total

stranger, knelt down beside the two of them. She seemed a little

disturbed by something.

"Um, I know it may be too late to offer," she began.

"Yeah, what is it," he tickled the woman on the floor with his power

to help excite her sexual interest.

"You can fuck me instead."

He laughed as he thrust again, this time receiving a resounding moan

of pleasure from Patty.

"I can do you too, if I want." He carried on the conversation without

slowing the rate of his strokes.

"You can do me too. No argument. You lived up to your promise. I, I,

wow, she's fantastic to watch in sex. Are all women this neat to

watch? Do I look like this when I...?" She stared at the writhing

woman beneath Bob. "Oh, yeah. Fuck her good!" She got intensely

fascinated by the present view. Her chin wobbled and lurched right

along with the other woman's motions, her lips forming similar


"Uhnnn, yeah, even you. unnn, you really have, ohhh yeah, developed a

streak, oh shit yeah, of lesbianism." grunt.

"fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, don't, oh don't" mumbled the mother. Mary

leant down and sucked at Patty's breasts, licking and nibbling at the

whole tit, not just the nipple. "OOOOOHHHH YESSS" came from the

mother, excited by the contact. The lust filled attack brought more

milk from the undulating breast.

"My, you really are getting into this." Bob spoke mostly to himself.

With a grin, he remembered, Mary was in no way under his direct

control. It made a difference in his excitement.

The pressure grew in his groin. With a burst of humping, he loosed

his seed within the woman pinned below. He pushed the cock into her a

few more times, allowing the surge to ride along.

Patty in due turn let out a screeching orgasm of her own. Mary,

twisting her friend's nipples, milk dribbling between her fingers,

could scarcely hold on. The thrusting hips were in motion still as

Patty began to come down again, glowing from having been sexed.

Bob stood and walked out to the kitchen. Coming back with a glass of

water, he sat, still half dressed, on the couch.

Mary was stroking her friend's breasts, her legs, her stomach. Patty

didn't seem to notice at the moment. Bob took the mesmerization

instructions away a little at a time, leaving a strong desire for

secret liaison with Mary.

"Patty will come to believe you two have been secret lovers for some

time. It will be a secret, her husband won't know, she won't let him

know. Not even by accident, because she'll forget whenever she's not

with you or talking to you on the phone." He told Mary.

"How did you do that?" she asked. He smiled, self satisfaction over

his control of these women was rising. Power was itself arousing.

"It doesn't matter. It's done."

"What is your price for this, this, this, I don't know what to call

it." she looked fearful, she hadn't been since before Patty had offered

her tit to her. "What is it you want, really?"

"Well, for now," he leered a bit, "tonight you will do everything to

satisfy me, complete sexual slavery, without me having to use my

talent on you." he paused, "I suppose in the future you'll allow me

free use of you any time I want, of course, I can set you up with a

few more playthings. I guess I want your total trust and loyalty in

exchange for the gifts I'll be giving you. But it doesn't matter,

since I can force it on you if you misbehave. I'd just rather you did

it of your own free will."

She bit her lower lip. She fondled Patty, and Patty, somewhat

conscious, began to fondle Mary's breasts. Clumsily, she felt for

Mary's nipples, smiling up with an intense expression of love and


She gulped.

"Okay, I'd sell my soul for this," she muttered. "Can I, I mean, do

you mind if I...?"

"Oh, by all means let her take you for another ride, but I'm going to

take you next." He sat back to watch.

The two women began to neck. The frantic kisses were briefly

interrupted by the baby, who chose that moment to wake up crying.

Bob frowned, little brat, how dare it interfere. He stepped over to

the small cradle like carrier. Unsnapping the little safety belt he

picked the little creature up under its arms. He began carefully, as

if playing with eggs, tucked its head onto his shoulder and began to

pat the back. Hey, this was pretty cool, the little, eh... girl, was

cooing in his ear. Well, let's see, he thought. Wet?, he tried to

figure out whether the diaper was too far gone.

The two nearly naked women were staring at him, Mary's jaw hanging


"What's your problem," he snapped. "Never saw a guy snuggle a baby


"Well, yesss," she answered, "But Anna doesn't even let her father hold


The kid started to burble. Bob was enjoying the tiny innocent he held.

The little ball of flesh was actually grinning at him. It took a little

time, but the fuzz topped bundle did fall back to sleep.

Mary plunged herself back into Patty's eager embrace. This woman was

determined to make the most of this particular opportunity.

They necked for a time. Trading tiny little lip nibbles on each

other's face and neck, they slowly aroused their urges until they

began petting the exposed breasts and cunts. Ultimately they ground

their cunts together, Mary on top, while totally wrapped up in their


The moans and groans lasted some time before the two spasmotically

unleashed their orgasms. Mary's hair had become scraggly strands

covered with sweat, Patty was covered with her own dripping fluids of

all kinds.

Patty took the kid down to her apartment, leaving him with Mary.


It was completely different giving verbal instructions, rather than

manipulating her.

Mary was anxious to please him though. She went down on him right

away, no arguments. Her pink-red tongue lashed the length of his cock

with her saliva. He could tell she had little experience at blowing

guys, but she made up for the lack with enthusiasm. He told her

verbally to cushion her teeth with her lips and tongue, and how to

warn him if she was gagging.

She spread her legs at his command once he got hard again, and did

everything she could to excite him. She pleaded in his ear for his

cock. She fingered his balls gently. She kissed him as passionately

as she had kissed Patty. Her breasts pressed excitedly against his


She wasn't as responsive to his touch as she was to Patty's though,

and this excited him too. The idea she would literally do anything

for him, made her more his property in some ways than Fran was. This

held more power than the talent alone delivered. Fran was totally

remade for his use, a whole new person underneath. Mary had

voluntarily given her body in payment. She probably would worship him

publicly if he so much as suggested it.

His cock entered the self acclaimed toy he now owned by purchase,

rather than simple seizure. She was moist, having aroused herself, if

by no other means, by the memory of Patty's dripping nipples.

Bob held off on purpose. He waiting for her breath to pick up. He

wanted to hear her pant.

After a few minutes she started to writhe with lust. The passion she

used throwing herself into the act with him raised fires within. Her

hips rose and fell with each thrust of his cock. Her teeth clenched

shut, pressuring herself, trying to bring herself off. Her body

developed a glossy sheen from the sweat she devoted to the act.

"Unnnngh," moaned from her throat, "aaah, please, oh god, please."

Suddenly her eyes clenched tightly, like her teeth. A stuttering

orgasm worked her muscles and breath.

Bob let his orgasm loose, spurting a burst of cum into Mary. He

drooped over to her side.

She panted, but turned to him immediately. She planted lust filled

kisses anywhere he didn't seem to be moving. Determined she would

fill her part of their bargain, doing her best to convince him of her

pleasure in doing so. Energetically, her movements became fluid and

sensual, almost romantic in devotion.

They screwed again before he left, satisfied she belonged to him as

surely as Fran, Randi, and Betty.

He gave her his phone number and address. She clenched tightly to the

slip of paper as though a life-line, a tight hold on her deepest



Friday, he went in to work and resigned. The talent would provide

income if he had enough seed money.

He took the money he had, a tidy, not overwhelming sum, and invested

it. A few calls here and there, some light snooping into the minds

behind the companies, and by next week the initial investment would

double. All he'd have to do was pay taxes, and try real hard not to

look too omniscient.

He was pleased again, the plans he had would make him very

comfortable, but not look as if he were just snapping up other

people's property.

This could work. He didn't want to get caught like Harry. He didn't

know what Harry's ultimate fate was, but he'd avoid finding out first



Janet came by Saturday. Ben was probably at work. When Bob answered

the door, Janet stood there, simply smiling radiantly at him.

"Hi." she said.

"Oh hello."

"Mind if I come in?"

He waved her in. It was early afternoon, Betty would be home soon, and

Randi shortly after. They'd gone shopping, and he'd arranged for Fran

to come by with her maid uniform that night. He was going to have all

three decked out as servants tonight. And play, of course.

"What can I do for you."

She slid her entire body against him, reaching up with her chin,

planting a lusty open mouthed smooch on his lips. Instinctively his

arms encircled the woman. He pulled her closer, if possible, and delved

his tongue past hers.

The woman began to writhe against him. He reached down her back to the

waist band of her skirt and slid his hands inside the skirt, then the

panties. Her fleshy bottom was smooth and warm to his touch. A touch

she seemed to welcome. Well, she was making a gift of herself to him,

he wasn't going to let her completely run the show.

"I see," He pulled his head back, but he slid his finger up her ass.

The immediate result was a yelp of surprise. He was also rewarded with

a slight sigh of joy.

"If you want to start there, then by all means, feel free." she

mumbled into his chest, going limp. He could sense her choose to

submit to his passions.

"I like using this part of you like a harness." he explained,

turning her around to force her to the bedroom. "You'll find I'll put

up with a lot, but I'm the one in charge. We do what I want, when I


"I, uh, won't argue," she purred with the delight of someone getting

their own way, by subterfuge. She obediently turned with his hand and


He fucked her butt with his finger all the way to the bedroom. She was

sweating from the strain of trying to keep the stimulus hot the way

she wanted. He simply grinned from her slight discomfort over his

controlling the situation.

To her shock, in the bedroom he simply ripped the panties off. Janet

wasn't quite sure whether he did it for shock value, or for

expediency. She didn't say anything, allowing him to control her

movement as he wished.

Bob had her stand at the foot of the bed, pushed her shoulders down

against the mattress, and made her stick her ass in the air.

He flipped the skirt she wore up onto her back, leaving a lovely

bottom exposed to his view. Her heels helped raise her derriere to

allow splendid exposure, although her balance was a touch off in this

position. Her lower cunt lips were clearly visible, and the dark

little pucker of her anus was showing well.

He dropped his pants and rubbed his semi-hard penis against her butt.

He slowly went to the bathroom to get the KY. She remained poised as

he'd left her when he came back. Warming the KY in his hands, he rubbed

it on his now stiff member.

She'd obviously done this before, she reached back and pulled her

cheeks apart, trying to get an opening of her sphincter for him. His

cock in hand he pressed in the first inch.

She barked out a complaint against the intrusion, but confessed it

always hurt her during the initial entry. "Don't stop now, you'll fit

just fine."

He worked the hole open a little further with his fingers. She

suppressed pain and sought the pleasure as her anus became interested

in the invader. Then as he got another inch in, she moaned with the

sensation, actively pressing her ass at his prick.

He was in all the way. He could feel the bones of her hips against his

hips. She was skinnier than he'd thought if those bones poked. Her

clothing still on, the high heels helped raise her butt up against him.

"Oh god!, I want you so bad!" she exclaimed. She tried to rock into

him from the awkward position.

He started to work his cock in and out of the tight passage. She tried

to match rhythm with him, moaning at his stimulation of her asshole.

"Uhhh, arrrrr, more, harder, oh, please, oh," she muttered pleading.

Bob reached for her chest and began to play with her tits through her

clothing. "YES!!!" She responded well to this manipulation as well.

Within a few minutes she had a first, low intensity orgasm. The sounds

were slightly muffled as she pressed her face into the bed.

He pounded away, allowing his flood to spill into her ass. She groaned

through a second, more staggering orgasm a moment later. He pulled

out, shoving her completely onto the bed forcefully.

"oh god that was good." she mumbled into the blankets. She clutch them

in her fists.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Bob went to the bathroom again. This time

to wash the remnants of the KY off. When he came back, Janet had an

idiotic grin on her face, a look of surprised happiness.

"Let's fuck." she said, trying to evoke vulgar humor and lust.

"Not tonight dear, I've a headache" he joked. She frowned.

"Surely you jest!" she announced. And pounced on him, planting a kiss

firmly on his mouth. "We can cure that!" She strove to drive her

tongue all the way to his throat.

"I have plans for tonight already." he pulled away a little.

"You do? I'll match your plans against mine. I'm gonna eat you right


"Not likely. It will have to wait. My girlfriends will take care of me

tonight." He worked a hand past her blouse, reaching her breast.

"Girlfriends? More than one?"

"Yes, Betty and Randi are now living with me, and I've got another

woman joining us as well." He began to rub the nipple.

Janet took this in, looking thoughtful for a few minutes.

"How about if I call Ben? He can help out."

"Unlike Ben, I'm somewhat possessive about my sex partners."

"Okay, how about if I stay and help them out with you?"

"Not tonight Janet. Some other time perhaps. But this afternoon we can

do it at least once more." he conceded.

"Yess!" enthusiastically, as if cheering for a successful athletic


He gently lay her back down on the bed and spread her legs. His, once

again erect, penis entered the front door this time. Her box was wet

still, and as he pushed in, "aaaaaahh!" rewarded his entrance.

He reached forward, raising her blouse above her lovely chest, and

began to rub her nipples and the flesh surrounding. The nipples

snapped to attention quickly and he began to pinch and pull them


Bob reached out, manipulating her nervous system to create a high

intensity sexual heat. He brought the tingling sensation up from her

clit, throughout her groin, and only stopped when he realized she

was going to come, far to quickly for him.

"Oh my god!" whispered desperately from her lips. "oh yes, oh yes."

She lashed from side to side, with only her blouse lifted to ruffle

her clothing. The two shapely legs wrapped around his rib cage in a

tight clutch. Her bucking only increased as he plunged his prick to

his balls inside. Her feet prodded his thighs gently with the heels

of her shoes. Her hands clutched with abandon at the cheeks of his


He built up the tension of lust within her while plunging her cunt

again and again. He blocked her orgasm, hoping to come at the same

time. He could sense her enjoyment.

His breath was coming in quick, sharp, gasps. Hers in gulping,

frantic, hot panting.

"Goddddaammm. gnnnn. aahh aahh," she barked out with her warm, moist

breath. "oooooohhhh, fuck, fuck. FUCK!"

He let her release her orgasm as he felt the expanding thrust of come

burst from within himself. He pressed home the deposit at the rear of

her deep caverns.

She simply screamed "FUCK!" at the top of her lungs.


Part 5

                      _Illiteracy Subdued_

The book was in the box stored down the basement.

Bob dug it up again from amongst the books stored by the furnace. The

basement was only visited occasionally, and none of the boxes had

been disturbed since he last took it out.

His increase in sensitivity caused an interesting problem.

He was reclining, enjoying a few moments of quiet when he realized

he could sense another presence. No, it wasn't Betty, who was

displaying her assets for him, and Randi was out shopping.

The probe he searched the house and neighborhood with turned up

nothing. There was still a nagging sense, a feeling, some little

tickle at the back of his mind.

A roiling feeling stuck with him. After walking from the top of the

house to the bottom, he was drawn, almost pulled to the book. There

was a throbbing mental attraction he could not seem to ignore.

The book was its' same small size. The pages, cover to cover, filled

with the symbology Bob now understood almost perfectly, possibly

better than the original author. It remained as he remembered it.

Climbing the stairs, Bob fingered the book's folded clothe cover. A

brief few steps had him back in the living room. There, book in hand,

he dropped into his chair and turned on a reading light.

Running his fingers along the pages as if it were braille. He was able

to spot some slight errors in the delicately written script. And still

no sign of why he had to collect it from concealment.

Holding each individual page to the light, he looked for watermarks.

Some hint of the origin, any clue to the cause of his odd discomfort

would help. None of the pages yielded any new information.

Flipping through the pages proved nothing, but then... His fingernail,

even cut short as it was, traced the seams of the clothe and paper

binding on the rear cover. A crackle of ancient dried glue popped the

edges, much to his surprise. The binding held tight for the other


He peeled back the loose seam, separating the paper as best he could.

A cardboard stiffener slid free with difficulty. Along with it

dropped a sheet of paper, and a thin red coin.

The coin, made of some bizarre plastic or gem stone, bore a face on

one side with a triangle superimposed, while on the back was a sharp

bolt of lightning. It was wafer thin, and still thick enough for

the relief work on either side. He slid the coin into his pocket.

The paper contained more symbols. New ones, he couldn't immediately

place. He finally set the sheet aside, resolving that like the other

symbols, these too would become clear to him with time.

The coin continued to draw his attention. Once again, he pulled it out

and stared at it. For a time he seemed to duel pulling urges from the

coin, and realized he was watching symbols within the coin itself.

The idea the coin produced symbols like a person stunned him. Slowly

he built a shield over the coin, like the one he used to hide his own

mind. He was able to draw power from the device itself to run the

shield. The draw he'd felt was gone.

He wrapped the coin in paper, placed it within an envelope and locked

it away in the documents fire safe he owned. The mysteries of the book

and mind control drew his curiosity, but he wanted to control the

time he devoted to each element of this art.

Peace at last settled over Bob. He devoted some time to Betty.


None of Bob's women were around. He had carefully avoided interfering

with the professional lives of his bevy of women. Their income was

adding to the household wealth, and allowed him to send them out to

buy new sexy outfits from time to time.

Besides, transferring their property to his name might attract the

wrong kind of attention. They both had separate meetings tonight,

hobby interests or such keeping them away. He had intended to have

some quiet time for reading, just to practice some other

entertainment, but changed his mind.

He'd called Kim, er Bambi, and expected her at any moment. He hadn't

seen her for two weeks. That was the day she'd introduced herself and

explained her experience with the Institute.

He hadn't tracked down the other telepath, the one he'd save from the

telepath radar team the Institute operated. Sooner or later he'd find

the woman behind the mind trace. Meanwhile he intended to explore the

threat a little more.

Lightning flashed, and after silently counting to five, he heard the

collision of thunder. A deep crash, bringing about a strong feeling

of peace in Bob. He allowed the drumming sound of the pummelling rain

to drone through his ears, a lure to sleep if he'd ever heard one.

The doorbell rang over the symphony of the storm. He stood to answer

it. His habit had become to sense the visitor on the other side, and

there was one person, Kim.

He could tell it was her, her poorly shielded mind leaked light

streams of thought, probing her surroundings.

Opening the door, he was immediately rewarded with a view of the

tall, slender, overly busty woman. She was dressed more stylishly

this time, not in the business outfit she had on last time. Her skirt

was a side button down affair, and ended at her knees. Her boots rose

up her calf half way to her knees. The red rain jacket she wore

concealed a lot, but failed to disguise the size of her wondrous

chest. And her hair had grown back in a little more, seeming somewhat

like a thick monk's cut, than any particular salon style. Her head

was framed nicely before a large umbrella she carried.

Bob motioned her in.

As she passed him, she slipped her expression into a lecherous grin.

"Sluts out for the night?" she said peering around.

She seemed to know he was a little embarrassed to have someone know

about the use he put his toys to. It seemed a little odd, considering

she used men the way he was using the telepathically mute women. Of

course, her case might be a direct result of programming she'd

received at the hands of her original telepathic master. Yet, he still

turned somewhat pink at her implied disapproval.

"They have duties."

She sat in one of the lounge chairs he had in the living room. He

went to the kitchen, filled a couple mugs with caf, and returned. She

was courteous as she accepted it, her 'thank you' polite after her

catty remark at the door.

He took a chair opposite her, admiring the round curves she couldn't

help display, having removed the concealing coat. The blouse she wore

only strained the view, no buttons visible at its limits, allowing

the tiny hint of flesh. He could however, make out the barest outline

of bra.

"You know, the strain of hiding wouldn't be so bad if you didn't

emit so much noise."

She retrieved calm, after a brief look of fear. "So you've gotten

much more control than I have."

"Why did you seek me out in the first place," he inquired.

"So you could help me hide better."

"I don't believe you. You thought I was inexperienced. Unable to

protect myself. Surprise, you were wrong, fess up."

"I figured to get control of you, and use you as a shield if they

found me again."

"And when that didn't work?"

"I figured something would break for me." She lashed out a testing

probe again, trying to grip on something in his mind. It resembled a

boa constrictor trying to get a good grip on a basketball. His phony

personality, displayed above shielding he'd developed to protect him

from the onslaught of normals, completely mystified her. "How the

fuck do you do that?" she asked.

"It seemed likely to me the Institute guys wouldn't be looking for a

normal set of thought processes, so I simulate them."

"I tried copying your pretend self, I haven't managed."

"How do you keep out the voices, all the other minds?" he asked.

She just stared at him, as though he were nuts.

"What other minds?"

"All the noise the people not like us make."

"I don't hear any such noise."


Disturbed, and curious, he wondered if she was naturally immune

to the problem. He stared at the wall for a time. She was reluctant to

break into his musing. She broke the silence first though.

"Listen, I need a good fuck," she said. "I tried to capture one of

the night watchmen the other night, but there's no safe hideaway in the

store I hide in."

Stunned at the straight forward request, he found himself grinning.


They adjourned to the bedroom. Shedding only their shoes, they lay

across the bed together. He felt kind of like a teenager. He hadn't

done pretty much straight sexual exploration since the night with

Mary. And that was a power trip for him. He liked having the control

over her a little bit of bribery had gained.

This was completely out of his control. He almost couldn't remember

what it was like to bed someone without using his talent at least

a little.

He started by trying to caress her hair. It was still too short for

him to actually grasp a handful. He rubbed her bumpy scalp, feeling

for the base of the hair follicals. The silky touch of her hair was

sweet. She left her eyes wide open, watching his face to gauge his

behavior. She couldn't read his mind, as she could most men.

Being in bed with her was a sensual experience at arms length. He

began forefinger touches in completely different places. He touched

her elbow, he touched her shoulder, he gently reached out at her

belly button, but just hovered the finger above her taut tummy.

She joined in. Her palms traced the air, about a quarter inch from

his skin or clothes. She kissed into space, no more than a breath

away from his lips. He watched her pink tongue lick above his arm,

the humidity of her breath raising goose pimples along his skin.

The magic of shadow dancing was upon them. For almost an hour they

flowed around each other's body parts. He could see the nipples of

her breasts pop to erection as his hand passed above without making

physical contact. She could see his cock straining for freedom, each

time she waved her hand close to his crotch.

Eventually, as it always does with the shadow dance, the stress of

keeping the gap between one body and another leads to loss of

control. The invisible barrier gave way to feather light touches.

His hand accidentally brushed the underside of her chin. She moaned

lightly, excited contact had occurred. Her finger slipped and traced

a short 3-4 inch line along his shoulder blade. His tongue licked the

backside of her earlobe.

Finally, they had pulled together, enraptured by the undaunted effort

to build up to their lust. Her mouth no longer avoiding the touch of

his lips, they dueled with their tongues. He could feel the smooth

lushness of her hard white teeth. She could suck in the flesh of his

upper lip.

His hands wandered to the expansive chest she virtually thrust at

him. They were very soft, not as firm as he had grown accustomed to.

He felt the nipples hardening again as he touched them this time.

Those nipples were large enough to require his palm to cover them

completely. Her moaning to his touch was low and guttural.

Her hand, by now, was rubbing his cock through the fabric of his

jeans. Every now and then she would strive to squeeze the tip. His

lust rose with each grasping hold she gained. The heat in the room

was beginning to drive them from their clothes.

Bob realized the blouse she wore unbuttoned in the back. He began to

take the buttons apart from the respective button holes. Imagination

took over, he found it odd that in order to thread her, he had to

unthread her clothing.

She wriggled in his arms as he worked the blouse off her. The

brassiere she wore barely covered her tits, so it took very little

effort to get them free of their bindings. Once free, they were like

a sea of warm soft flesh. He sank between them, sliding from one to

the other nipple, trying to suck them sharply to erection.

She let out a few light moans, nothing dramatic. Her nipples

responded somewhat to his lighter suction, so he began to attack them

vigorously, with more force, more violence. She began moaning more


Her short hair had no bounce to it as her head bobbed from side to

side. Her ears showed, flushed red from exertion.

He eased back and sat up. She paused in her reactions, sweat had built

a thin glossy cover over her skin. She began yanking the buttons

through his shirt holes. Her hands would clench and grip at either

side of the button slit and pull. Most of the buttons remained on the

shirt when she finished, oddly enough.

Raking short, but sharp nails across his chest, she gave him goose

bumps. She begin sucking and nibbling at his nipples. They hardened

mildly as the pink red tongue made rough work of them.

She traced spirals on his chest and stomach with her tongue, and as

she did, her enormous mammaries rolled against him. The pillow

softness undulated with motion every time she shifted. The palm sized

nipples fading in and out of erection as he tried to snatch at them,

causing momentary surges of stimulation.

He slipped his hands around the large boobs, trying to actually grasp

without snatching love handle fistfulls of flesh. But she responded

more to the clenched pinches than the teasing caresses.

Finally he traced down her side, feeling the ribs bumping against his

fingers. His hand reached the buttons on the side of her skirt, and

slipped them from their moorings. It came loose, to be pushed aside by

her feet after, leaving a fine display; her girlish little bottom.

He immediately peeled away her panties, leaving her naked at his side.

A black curly covering of fine hair was framed between her legs. It

seemed damp, but he could be mistaken. Handling her crack proved he

was right. She jumped a bit, being touched, but settled in promptly to

having the little knob of flesh at the top of her slit rubbed.

By now she was prying him free from his pants. As the pants and

underwear pulled away, his dick popped to attention, and then they

both were naked. He embraced her full length, intertwining his legs

and hers. The pillowy 'bazooms', as Harry had described them, rolling

with waves every time either Bob or Kim moved.

They returned to necking, his cock sliding between her legs, but not

in her cunt. His hands forcefully rubbed her back, exploring the

cheeks of her ass at times. Her hands combing through his hair,

pulling his neck closer, reaching down to cup his balls at times.

Sounds came from the door, he quickly sensed it was Randi. He knew

she'd heard the sounds, but simply watched excitedly from the door.

He rolled Kim to her back, lifting her legs at the knees up.

Spreading them apart, he began to enter her certainly wet opening.

She was loose, he felt. There was plenty of room in her cunt for his

cock and more. But it squeezed down on him, just the same.

Kim began to shudder. An orgasm came to her in clenching little fits.

She moaned a bit and he pumped at her cunt in a workman like way. He

was enjoying the sensualistic activities, but no real deep heat had

come yet.

Suddenly she lurched out a mind probe at him. Shot like a blast, she

was trying to seize control of his body! Her control commands demanded

more brutal and mindless treatment. She wanted him to hit her

breasts. She was building a lust filled control directed at him, and

he wasn't sure he really could stop it.

The shadow mind he created to hide behind was torn to shreds. Then she

invaded through his mind shield in several places.

His struggle against her control built to a lurch, reacting to a

punch of mind power. He pressed back at her but only held her at bay.

Then he slowly began to work his own controls around the edges of her

battering thought tendrils. He slipped into her mind, hooking little

control centers here, then there. Soon he was able to turn off her

attack on him and control her mind completely.

Pissed, he began to look about inside her. She couldn't pull that

crap on Bob. Now he would use her as she meant to use him.

From inside her head he could feel the welling flesh of her breasts.

They demanded sensation. The sensation they wanted, well, there was a

brutal demand for hard forceful pain, as a pleasure sense within her.

He used his newly learned personal controls. Sending electric jolts

of sensual sex arousal along those channels of her nervous system, a

real heat began to build within the bitch. He could now control her

in deep detail, and he would. He was angry, she tried to make him a

toy of hers!

He realized the entire struggle occurred in the space of one thrust

into her wet chamber. He now found himself taking her in more heated

plunges. The power he used enflaming his desire.

She received a series of commanding lust sensations. He added to the

physical sensations she received by violently clamping his teeth into

one of her nipples. He could tell it would leave a mark. Her moan was

deep and equally brutal in its intensity.

Her crotch received waves of signals from him to bring white heat

through her lower abdomen. He paid special attention to controlling

the charge coming up from the clitoris. This swollen red nerve bundle

was giving off a range of hot flashing charges, she was ready to


He could sense her muscles twittering within her cunt. He commanded

them to clamp down on his cock. Suddenly he felt his cock gripped by

her velvet glove. It tightened enough to almost prevent him from

making the in/out strokes. Her entire body moved along with him as he

pulled and pushed his groin.

The panting and moaning sounds she was making were enough to make the

bed vibrate. His own animalistic grunting grew until he surged with

the lava hot semen which pumped out his prick. A second and third

surge of the liquid pumped into her fist tight cunt.

She had been screaming! He didn't really notice while he was getting

off. His ears rang with a primal scream she hadn't stopped since he

had taken her body from her. He kept her in the orgasm, hard and

furious, as long as he could maintain the output of energy.

He had no idea how long. When he let her stop, she immediately dropped

into unconsciousness.

He pulled out and sat up at the edge of the bed. Randi was sitting

propped against the wall. Her pants off, she was drenched in sweat

too. She seemed to have recovered already from her orgasm. She was

fingering herself lightly, trying to arouse herself again.

"God, that was remarkable."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I think she went into a screaming orgasm for almost twenty minutes."

"It can't have been that long."

"I know, but I came early when she started. I've already got my wind


"Okay. Maybe it was long, but no twenty minutes."

"Who is she? She's got the biggest tits I've ever seen. They look real


"Real? Of course they're real."

"No. I mean, she hasn't had, like you know, silicone implants or


"Oh. Well, I guess not. This," and he slapped Kim's thighs like she

was a hunting prize, "is Bambi. Anyway, that will be her name around

here. I guess she'll have to move in now. I can't just let her wander

around loose."

"Master, may I?" Randi asked with anticipation. Her desire was growing

for the new conquest he'd brought home.

"Right now?, no. But since she's conked out, you might as well cop a


Randi walked over and began to feel Kim, now Bambi again, at her

breasts, and at her now soaked snatch. Randi let out slight guttural

groans at the contact with the formerly free telepath. Her hands ran

over the breasts she'd been admiring.

After watching Randi's face glow from the desire she obviously couldn't

conceal, he stood and dressed. Taking the awake woman by the hand he

led her from the room.


He sat in the living room. The duel for control, brief though it was,

had left him with some new fears.

She had been less than candid about her escape from the Institute.

Well, she thought she'd told the truth, but now he new different.

He had replaced controls someone else had planted. Not the clumsy

heavy handed touch of Harry, but some unknown master. Someone who had

concealed her memory of being released, but couldn't erase it.

And there was no way of knowing how much she'd reported about him...

He sat and contemplated his options while Randi knelt before him, the

head of his prick popping back and forth through her lips. He would

use her for a while, then try to work more from Bambi's mind.


Bambi remembered nothing of their struggle when she awoke. Bob had

seen to that. But he had her settled in by night and the other two

women didn't really mind.

Randi was biding her time to get at Bambi, Betty devoted herself to

reorganizing the household to accommodate the new comer. Betty was

rapidly becoming the household administrator.


Bob's growing harem bothered him a little. He started to think about

whether he should cut the numbers back, to avoid problems.

Janet had been dropping in from time to time too.

Although he hadn't let her join in the other games, he'd had her every

way he could imagine otherwise. They were all entertaining.

The day after Bambi's conversion, he'd gone to visit Mary. Patty had

become a delightful playmate, providing the milk supplement to coffee

during his visit. She seemed to like her new role as lover.

He believed his talent unraveled some of the fantasies the women he

collected had. His control and ownership fulfilled his fantasies, but

the more recent women were adjusted to permit their own secret

desires to be fulfilled.

It had astounded him to discover Bambi deeply wanted the physical

abuse, even before Harry had 'changed' her. He was able to trace the

clumsy efforts of the, possibly dead, prior master easily. The newer

controls from the mystery master were far more delicate, he still

hadn't the patience to sift through the seamless construction of

control he'd uncovered. He had however superseded it with his own.

Fear of this other unknown master ran high, since he really couldn't

find a real memory of how she had escaped the Institute. His

nightmares were pretty severe lately.

He also realized the risk of being caught by the Institute called for

extreme caution on his part.


Tuesday afternoon he went out to find someone new, a different

pretty face. He had decided to throw caution to the wind for the day.

The fear and tension were beginning to wear him down, and he needed

some kind of fun.

Everything was under control, so to speak, for now. Now he was

walking through the crowded mall, eavesdropping on the thoughts of

total strangers.

Some were concentrating on finding bargains for the items they needed.

The teenage boys were fun, they were deep in fantasies about the

women in skimpy clothing or the teenage girls wandering the mall. It

boosted his horniness, and he intended to satisfy this desire soon.

He wanted to play first. He looked about for an interesting woman to

use. Particularly one who was strong enough to enjoy the experience

he would give her. He was seeking a girl with a suppressed desire to

be owned, to experience embarrassing sexual adventure.

He had liked controlling the women that were deeply suppressing their

need for domination. It became extremely fun to watch as they

resisted destiny, a destiny they longed for underneath.

He walked the length of the mall twice, without finding a suitable toy

to use. He was disappointed and about to leave when his luck changed.

An attractive college student was walking into the bookstore. She was

dressed in a mini-skirt, a white summer blouse, and black high heals.

Her blond hair was in a braid to her waist, a thin flat waist. Her

face had sharp but attractive features. Almost as if the sculptor had

failed to smooth out all the edges. Her lips were thin and

expressive, colored red but not heavily. Her figure was a shapely

36-24?26?-34, not large busted, but well curved. He guessed from the

smoothness of her face and absence of wrinkles at her eyes that she

could not be any older than 20. Okay, maybe about 21.

He followed her into the book store. She was the one for today,

certainly fitting the profile. He sensed a deep rooted desire within

her meeting his desires today.

Finding her in amongst the books on gardening, he made an initial


"Hello, I'm Bob."

She looked him over as though he was a mugger. He smiled in a friendly

manner. She appraised him and dismissed him in her mind as small fish

in the pond.

"What do you want?"

"Well, your name for starters."

"Tough shit spud, beat it before I call the manager." she snapped.

"Now is that any way to talk to me?" He twisted her thoughts a little

and inserted an instruction to fulfill one of his voyueristic plans.

"Why don't you, just because of that little snippet of hostility, how

about you take off your bra, right now?"

"What kind of little pervert are you?" she replied, forgetting the

threat to call the manager. Her tone took on a strong level of

hostility. She began to rattle of a series of personal insults.

But while she spoke she put down her purse and began to remove her

blouse. Her pale white skin was relatively unblemished, and he admired

the small but lush tits as she exposed them to him while removing the

bra. Her large round nipples swelled immediately in the cool air,

coming to sharp little points with pencil width tips.

She put the blouse back on, speaking all the while about his lack of

tact, politeness and anything else she could throw in. He smiled,

his own protrusion raising the clothe of his pants. "So you might as

well drop dead," she ended.

Finally, she draped the bra over her arm and went back to looking at

the books on the shelf.

"Thank you, that was very erotic," he said. She turned to stare at him

as though he hadn't heard a word of her diatribe. He pointed to the

bra on her arm.

She leapt in surprise. Turning pink with deep embarrassment, she

clenched her shoulders in, and her hand flew up between her breasts to

check that this was, in fact, her bra. She gasped.

"When did I do that?" mystified at her own loss of the memory.

"While you were running down my family history. Very educational

explanation of my origins by the way. Imagine my surprise, hearing

all the family ties to snakes. Shall we go have lunch?"

"No way little man." She turned to stomp away, only to find herself

standing before him again. "How do you do this crap?!?"

"You will finish up here. We will then walk down to the steak place at

the end of the mall, arm in arm." She shook her head, and turned to

the cash register with her selections. Bob merely stepped into the

hallway to wait.

A moment later she slipped her arm in his and they began to walk down

the hall. Her bra still hanging across her arm, it was obvious to

everyone her breasts were not encumbered by the additional

undergarment. She pinked up in embarrassment as teenaged boys turned

to stare at her protruding nipples shape, outlined in the fabric of

her blouse. Yet she did nothing to put the bra in a less obvious


"You can't make me do this! You can't!" as they wandered past gaggles

of even younger girls staring at them. "I don't seem able to stop

myself, but that's impossible!"

Bob knew her predicament was startling her. She could no more stop him

now than walk on the moon. He just walked into the restaurant with her

on his arm, still bemoaning her lack of control.

"Table for two, back in the corner," he directed the hostess. She sat

them in a booth, concealed somewhat, but not completely from the rest

of the restaurant.

"Now then," he said, "Let's try introductions again. I'm Bob. And you


"Emily, Emily Sandhill" his victim replied.

"That's better, see how easy it is when you cooperate?" she nodded

fearfully. She didn't speak another word, however.

"So we're going to have lunch, well maybe a bit more than lunch" He

looked the menu over.

"Why don't you just let me go?, I won't tell anybody, I promise. Just

leave me alone." she suddenly began pleading.

"Oh you won't tell anyone. You'll find that you can't. Tell you what,

you try telling the waiter what you think I'm doing."

She began to think. What would she tell anyone. He hadn't touched her.

She had taken her bra off, apparently at his request in the book store.

She accompanied him to the restaurant, arm in arm, at his request, no

physical force at all. She was sitting with him, not screaming for

help. Who would believe her? She tried to get up, but found instead

she picked up her menu.

The waiter came to take their order. He was a college age young

fellow with heavy eyebrows and a pleasant demeanor. When he left, Bob

had placed steak orders for both of them.

"I don't eat meat!"

"You will today," he answered, "why don't you go to the ladies room

and take your panties off for me?"

"Or what, you'll make me?"

"You want to find out?"

"No! I'll do it." She got up and wandered to the restroom.

When she came back to the table, she held her panties tucked in her

arms, trying to conceal them. She went to put them in her shopping

bags, but Bob reached out a hand. Reluctantly she dropped them into

his hand. He placed them conspicuously on the table where the waiter

wouldn't miss seeing them. She blanched.

"What are you doing?"

"Believe it or not, you like being treated like this."

"I don't need your bloody abuse! Why don't you just go away, and

leave me alone."

"Maybe you'd feel better with your blouse open..."

"No! This is all embarrassing as all hell now! I don't want to be

annoyed by you or any other twerp." She looked down, noticing her

exposed breasts, blouse pulled to either side. This aroused some

twinge of unharnessed desire within her, she began to twitch in her


The waiter came back, bearing a bread basket and their drinks.

Emily flinched, flushed totally red throughout her face. The waiter

appeared not to notice her predicament. To her surprise, her nipples

became sharply erect and her vagina was getting wet. She was starting

to wet her skirt.

Bob shot her a pleased look, while she looked down at her lap. He knew

he hadn't done anything directly to stimulate her arousal.

"So, you seem to like this kind of game."

"I cannot believe you are getting such a thrill from this, may I

please button up again?"

"Yes, but don't get too used to the idea. Why don't you pull your

skirt up, and finger yourself."

"In public?! Here?!"

"Do you want to do it, or shall I help you again?"

She sighed. She reached her hand under the skirt, slipping her fingers

over the exposed labia. Feeling certain Bob could somehow make her do

this anyway, she began to caress the folds of her bushy groin. She

kept her eyes wide open, watching Bob sit calmly over the table. Her

breath began to become short as her clitoris rose from its recess.

She gently rubbed the little knob, gasping. A small drop of sweat

rolled down her forehead, and dribbled down her nose. "oh god." she

whispered. "oooooooohhhh, aahhh." Her head wrenched to the side, but

she forced it back to watch Bob who was, in turn, watching her


Her moans forced her tongue to show between her tasty lips, gracing

the corners of her mouth with licks from the tip as her body developed

its desire into motion. Her hips ground the wooden booth seat.

She grunted, humped, and moaned. At least she suppressed the more

violent sounds she tended to make during orgasm. She panted for a few

moments afterwards, trying not to slide down in the seat.

"There, feel better now?"

Amazingly, one of her better orgasms. She couldn't do much but relax

at this point. She felt obliged to admit it to Bob, although she

couldn't say why.

"God yes." she whispered so quietly he had to strain to hear her.

"Good. We'll see what else we can do for you later."

The waiter had returned, was standing there while she had finished up

her orgasm. He was holding their meals on a tray, and started to lay

the plates before them.

"If I may be bold," the waiter said, "your performance was superb."

She sat stunned by the man's pronouncement, as he walked away as

though nothing really unique had happened.

When she turned back towards Bob, he was eating his steak. She looked

with dismay at her own. She'd been a practicing vegetarian for some

time. She secretly had been yearning for meat lately, but her will

power insisted she must stick with the regime.

"Eat it," said Bob, "I know you've been avoiding meat for a while, but

you like steak, and you may find a certain sensuous pleasure in it."

"I can't."

"You can, but I won't force you."

She picked up her knife and fork, cutting off a small piece of the

still red meat. She placed it on her tongue, sucking the blood, the

red juices from the morsel she had selected.

He was right! The taste was fantastic. Her tongue and teeth explored

the exquisite tender bitefull, eventually allowing the battered scrap

of food to wander deliciously down her throat. The next small cut of

the beef, she treated to loving licks with her lips and tongue before

sucking it into her mouth, wondrously discovering the flavor as

though for the first time.

By the time she finished the meat on her plate, she was once again

horny, and even Bob seemed, well, almost acceptable to her lusts.

The waiter came back to the table to clean up, asking if there was any

more they desired from the menu before they left. Bob paid by credit

card, although she believed he would not have to, if he didn't want


"Excuse me, why me!?"

"Because you wanted to be used, and I wanted someone to use. I can see

these things in people."

"I don't think I'm into being humiliated this way."

"You are. I just let you find out."

"I'm confused, but I'm also ridiculously horny. Did you do that to


"Noooo, but I could feel it rising while you ate your steak. I haven't

done anything to you since making you open your blouse. Lovely tits by

the way." They stepped out into the mall again.

"What are you going to do about my horniness?" she inquired softly. He

looked at her with astonishment. She was leaning onto his shoulder

with a look of snuggled warmth spreading through her face.

"I honestly hadn't given it much thought." He led her away from the

restaurant. The rubbing motion of her legs against each other was

bringing up the heat in her groin.

They ended up in the hall with the security office. No one in there

noticed as they walked in.

She followed him into the captain's office, a man in a black and blue

uniform looked up at them. He stood and walked out. Bob swept the

papers and other items from the desk to the floor with a crash.

"This will do just fine." he said, "no one will interrupt us."

"There are open windows to the outer office." she complained. Bob

looked out, a secretary and a rent-a-cop were chattering with each


"You'll appreciate that better once you get your clothing off." he


She nervously began undressing. By the time she got the blouse, skirt

and shoes laid aside, she was trembling from an excitement rising from

humiliation. She knew now, what Bob had said was true. She wanted to

be treated this way.

Bob dropped his trousers. His six to seven inch pecker was already at


"Lay down on the desk."

She sat, then lay across the desk so she wouldn't be forced to watch the

outer office staff looking at her. Bob refused to let her get away

with it and positioned her so she had to watch the outer office much

of the time.

By now the secretary was standing at the window, pointing at her and

the rent-a-cop was apparently making some joke at her expense. She

speculated what it was, something about doorknobs? everyone gets a

turn? How would she face herself in the mirror tonight? She trembled

with excitement as Bob began to suck her pussy.

He licked the lips of her slit first. "ooohh" came free from her

throat. As he worked up the opening to the top, she felt his hot moist

breath against the wetness she'd developed. Then he began to lick and

nibble at her clit.

"Oh yesss, please do that more!" she exclaimed. Now completely unable

to take her eyes off the two people in the outer office.

Bob was holding them there. He knew how brutally embarrassing this was

to Emily. He could feel the heat of her lust moving down from her

head, rather than up from her groin. She was now bucking against his

face. She couldn't stop herself. All while being watched by strangers.

Her head rolled side to side. Her braid whipped about over the end of

the desk. She panted with the excitement of the sex she was enjoying,

in a frighteningly public way. She began to pinch her own nipples, and

tried to pull one up to her lips to suck it. She couldn't quite, but

she tried anyway.

Then Bob entered her. She pulsed with an orgasm. She was so far gone

from him eating her out, she couldn't hold back when he entered.

"GGGGGGGGGGGGOD!!" this time she couldn't keep the noise level down,

this time she knew the woman in the outer office couldn't help but

hear. And she was watching too, so had seen the entire thing. Bob

using her, almost beyond her imagination.

Bob fucked her and made her hips pump for him. He reached out and

fondled the pale breasts waving before him. She was reasonably tight

to his prick and he liked the sensation her twat clutching was making

him feel. The pressure built and eventually he released his sperm, a

flood of semen into her cunt.

"oh yeah." he muttered. After standing with his cock in her cunt

afterwards for some time, he pulled out and began to dress.

"Should I dress too?"

"You want to walk out of here like that?"

"Uh, no, no, not really." she was amazed how much it thrilled her to

be watched while fucking. "um, what about them?" she pointed to the

outer office.

"Come on." he simply said.

As they walked out, the secretary offered a comment.

"You filthy slut. Can't you find some place else to peddle your ass?

How much did you charge him, eh?"

Emily's ears burned red, embarrassed and humiliated even more by this

catty remark. Her groin twitched again.

"Don't worry," Bob said, "They'll forget about this before we've

gotten down the hall."

At the crowed mall hallway, Bob turned to leave, but Emily grabbed his


"Was I really like this all along? or did you do something to me like

you made those people forget they saw us?"

"You already had the desire, just hidden deeply away."

"Will I see you again?," she pouted, mixed in her emotions.

"Maybe, just maybe." he stole her address from her mind.

Bob let himself be swallowed by the crowd. He had enjoyed the little



He drove past a car with no one in it.

No, that wasn't right. He looked in his rear view mirror. A man was

steering the car just as normal as day. Bob probed the car with the


No one was there, well maybe there was a void like blob he couldn't

read. Like the men at the Institute radar site.

Oh my, he thought, this guy is one of them. Is he after me? What do I


Then the other car turned away, down a different street.

Bob sighed relief. Some day soon he'd have to do something about

those creeps.

They scared him more each time he came across their presence.


He'd had more trouble with Betty and Randi fighting, well, not

fighting. Perhaps it was just, well, struggling.

Yesterday Betty complained about Randi trying to run the house. She

knew she was allowed to boss Randi around a bit. But she and Randi

were often at odds.

Bob didn't really know what kept the two of them at each other's

throat, but he guessed Betty really wanted to be acknowledged as the

queen of his women.

She was paranoid. She thought the others were going to hurt her some

night. She had no idea this was ridiculous since he controlled them

all. And she kept trying to push everyone else around unless Bob

stepped in with his command over her hidden persona.

Yesterday he got pissed about Betty's paranoia around Randi. He

adjusted her a touch, to actually like Randi. He added a little more

to put Randi in charge when he wasn't around. That ought to

straighten her out.

He had been working in the study. At the back of his mind he picked

up Betty and Randi talking in the bedroom. He got up and walked

towards the bedroom. He slipped to the door to watch.

"You were seeing him for almost 6 months before you let him make

love to you?" Randi's voice came.

"Yeah, he was, just fine, but I didn't want to have sex until I got

married." Randi was helping Betty brush her hair. From time to time

she stroked Betty's back too. "But he convinced me I was wrong. I was

also wrong to want him to myself. That was selfish, I think, I'm not

sure really."

"Maybe you just needed better encouragement." This odd sensation was

what he'd picked up, Randi was radiating desire. Betty, without the

unreasoned fear she'd had up until yesterday, was responding a little

to the sensual contact by Randi.

The two girls were both wearing short skirts, revealing blouses only

just showing their nipples through since neither had bras on.

Stockings were part of the uniform of the house, along with high

heels which he knew could not only get uncomfortable, but made some

chores a bit difficult.

But they liked wearing them around him, he'd made certain of that. He

liked to see the curves their legs had with the high heels on.

"What do you mean?"

"A man like Bob is unique. He's skilled in bed like I've never felt

with a man. He sometimes turns me on frantically, just by looking in

my direction. I've no idea how it happens to me. Before him, the only

satisfaction I ever got was from other girls."

Bob knew this, but didn't really want her to lose that innate quality.

He enjoyed being her only 'man'. Again he felt personal power no

other man could really have.

"Really?" By now the hair brush was laid aside. Randi worked her

hands in circles on Betty's shoulders. "I don't like the idea of

women with women. It's wrong."

"Oh?" Randi was now smiling, since she could sense the woman under her

hands was responding to the gentle passes she made along her torso.

"Yep. My mother told me," and Betty looked a little odd for a moment,

"I'm having trouble remembering some of the things mother said


Randi, worked her arms around to Betty's stomach. Her red fingernail

tipped fingers rubbing the muscles of the other girl's abdomen.

"Well, his technique is unusual, I'm certain he's responsible for

whatever when he gives me Fran from time to time. I get such

incredible satisfaction from it. I'm not fond of men. But he's not the

same, different somehow. Its good with him."

"I see," said Betty, her voice beginning to waver. Randi had worked up

to cupping her breasts, and although she believed this should not be

good, she felt light tingles of excitement circle the firm flesh.

Bob could feel Betty's anxiousness, and mild curiosity. Her head

tilted forward, the eyes fluttering from the mildly arousing massage.

Randi took the bold step of cupping up until her fingers could clasp

the nipples of Betty's breast and roll them.

"No, no Randi, don't do this. I don't want to sleep with you." she

mumbled. Her body betrayed her though, rolling along with the motion

from Randi's gentle administrations. "Oh god, that feels good."

Randi began to kiss her on the neck. Betty leaned her head to the

side, allowing Randi's lips easier access. Goose bumps showed her

excited flesh enjoyed the contact.

"No. I, I can't, I won't."

Randi's fingernails dug into her nipples, lightly, giving her a sharp

jolt of pleasant pain. "Ohhhhh," moaned her voice.

Greedily, enjoying the conquest of the often argumentative woman,

Randi pulled at her breasts, pinching nipples between her thumbs and

forefingers, intermixed with grasping handfuls of the flesh.

Bob reached out to feel what Betty was experiencing. He could feel the

tongue snake into her ear. The heat flowing down towards his groin

from her breasts was prickling his own desires. Her eyes wouldn't stay

open, so he got kaleidoscopic blur of images in the room. His

breathing accelerated to match her pumping lungs.

Randi, holding Betty's left tit's nipple with one hand, reached down

and pulled up Betty's skirt with the other. Here she benefited from

Bob's decision the women were to be available to receive his

attentions at any time.

So Betty was completely available to Randi as well.

Randi slid one of those carefully manicured fingers down the folds of

Betty's cunt. Her middle finger, chosen for the intrusion, found a

moist entryway waiting. Her finger probed within, and Bob felt the

invasion as certainly as Betty.

"God, no, don't do this," she moaned, helpless before the grasp Randi

had on her, "let me go, you, you, bitch!"

Randi was unrelenting, her fingers began working the nub of Betty's

clitoris. Betty was bucking, humping at the finger within her.

"You like this, slut. I may be Bob's whore, but you're just a teasing

little slut and you need to be used."

Bob reached out into Randi's mind, becoming a parasitic observer

within her body. The emotions were intense. He could sense her glee at

conquering the cunt under her fingers. Her own sense of power over

Betty fed his lust of power over both women. He could feel her body

writhing with pleasure although Betty hadn't touched her.

"Oh god, this is wrong! unnng," Betty's lips formed the words,

contradicting her body. "What will Bob think of me? I, I, please


"You silly little slut," answered the dominant woman, "He'll think no

more of you than he does now. You are a slut for his personal use, a

cunt, whose purpose is to relieve his sexual pleasure. What did you

think he kept you around for?"

Betty was lurching with Randi's finger. Randi forced Betty to turn her

head towards her face with her left hand. Betty was gone into the

stage of not caring how she'd been aroused. Randi planted a wet kiss

on the other woman's mouth.

Bob could feel victory in Randi's taking of Betty, a strong flush

sensation, broadly giving Randi at least temporary ownership of

Betty's body. He could feel how tasty and sweet Betty's lips were

through his vicarious tactile touch.

Betty couldn't stop the plunging tongue violating her mouth. She

didn't really want to. The dyke Bob kept around was forcing her into a

lusty orgasm and she couldn't stop her. Any moment now Bob would catch

them and punish her for letting the bitch take her. What could she do?

She entered into the kiss with Passion, with a capital P. The softness

of Randi's mouth was a change from what she'd felt with Bob. The

woman's lips were velvet to her touch, and her own tongue found the

taste simply exciting.

Randi pushed Betty to the bed and lifting the skirt, buried her face

in the lush red tunnel before her. Her tongue entered the dripping

cunt, pushing as far in as possible.

"MMMMYYY GOD!," cried Betty. "oohh don't do that!, no, no, no!"

Betty's pelvis had assumed sine wave properties as she thrust and

ground her cunt into Randi's mouth. She denied the desire for the

attention with every word, but her body was hot, aflame with

excitement, reaching for ecstasy.

Randi slid two fingers into the gyrating woman before her. Her fingers

moved in so easily she pulled them back out and added a third. When

this proved easy as well, she drew her hand out again. Then she

pointed all the fingers together and tried to insert her entire hand.

"NO NO, That will hurt me," squealed the sweaty woman in Randi's eager

grasp. "OHHHH!"

But the all the fingers pushed in to the widest part, the area of

Randi's hand from the last knuckle of her thumb to the heal of her

palm. Betty tried to spread her thighs open even wider than they

already were, whimpering with a combination of joy and pain. With a

sudden bump, the wrist Randi pressed behind her hand slipped into the

red/pink gap.

"AAAAAHHHHHH! YEESSS!" screeched Betty, tears pouring from her eyes.

It was impossible to gauge whether from pain or pleasure from looking

at her. But Bob entered her mind and as Betty, felt wondrously full,

stretched wide, and unbelievably hot. There was also a stretching

pain, and a few poking pains where the invading protrusion was hitting

tender points. But even those pains were stimulating the sex within.

Randi clenched her hand into a fist inside Betty and started to punch

in, out, in, out. Each in motion was answered by a grunt of

surprise/lust from Betty. Each out motion with a gasp, struggling to

gulp down air. Tears continued to stream down the side of her face,

but along with the tears began to come a gasping, begging sound.

"moore, I gotta have mooorre, deeper!"

"Oh love, you look so beautiful with my arm in you."

"oh Randi!, you're giving, !!!aaaah!!!, me the best... oh yes!"

"You're so pretty when stroked."

"Oh, I coming! MORE >ung< MORE!"

Bob could feel the fullness along the open lips of Betty's hot love

canal. She was swinging her arms and head wildly in response to the

brutal invasion.

She screamed out. Coming wrenched her around bodily on the bed.

Randi eased her hand out of Betty carefully. She was surprised as all

hell the girl had taken it, first time, with so little trouble. All

her other experiences required enormous amounts of lubrication and

slow careful entry.

Betty was curled up in a ball on the bed, recovering from her intense

and unexpected experience.

Randi saw Bob at the door.

He grinned, nodded in approval, and left.


Distantly, at the Institute, two men stood before a large oak desk.

The entrance to the room, a large double door, was shut, the curtains


They stood apart, not associating with each other in any way but their

presence. One, a burly man, wore a turtle-neck sweater, and casual

slacks. The other wore a business suit.

"You lost her." came a voice from a chair behind the desk. It was

deep, undoubtably male. The room was dark, and the face concealed by

the deeper shadows.

"I implanted programming to make her contact us every other week. She

only missed one so far..." answered the man in the business suit.

"I don't care! Anything we can program in, can be programmed out. You

blew it. You lost her. She is gone. An observer should have watched

her all the time."

"It would've made other sparks suspicious," a pause, "Sir."

"Find her!" a fist accented by striking the desk.

"Yes Sir!" turn and depart started.

"Oh, and Tyler," the departing man looked back, "If you don't find


A moment passed. Heavy in the air were other frightening options.

"I understand sir." the man named Tyler left.



"He'll fail. I know a failure when I see one. Make all the preliminary

arrangements with Jezabel. Then get another team on it. I want to know

when to pull him."

"Yes sir." and the second man left.

A pair of feet, clad in expensive Italian leather, took up residence

on the edge of the desk. They twitched with impatience.


Part 6

                        _Chapter & Worse_

The airport was crowded.  He'd chosen to fly at rush hour, with all

the business travelers.

This trip was the first he'd made in some time.  His investments were

beginning to pay off well.  The money wasn't exactly piling up, but he

was doing well enough.

This trip would take him to New York.  He planned to find some one to

handle his investments closer to the markets.  No big deal, and he'd be

back tomorrow.

He walked through the security scanner on the way to the gate and

almost froze in his tracks.  By sheer force of will he kept moving.

A probe had slid over his camouflage persona, the construct he

displayed above his thought shield.  The Institute?  Maybe.  If he

stalled now, they'd figure it out for sure.

He walked on to his plane, taking his seat, in coach, along with all

the other passengers.


The 'hunters' sniffed a scent on the wind.

"William" said the man with the carrot red hair.

"What is it?"

"Lookee here.  The system made a little hiccup.  If the guy going by

was one of the sensitives it should wail, instead I got this funny


William looked at readings charted on the sheet of paper.  Nothing

was out of the ordinary except a sudden twitch on an emissions gauge.

He looked at the power monitor, lifted the automatic logging sheet.

"Here's the problem, Red, power hit must've gotten by the filters."

"Hmmm, probably right."

"Happens, ya know."

They went back to reading newspapers.

Bob's picture remained imposed in black and white on the roll of

paper with all the scan data.  As the paper rolled along for other

scan jobs, it folded neatly into a box by the machinery.


Bob's relief was immense as the aircraft settled into the clouds.

Certainly they wouldn't let the plane leave if they knew he was

one of their 'sparks'.

He did a quick snoop on the other passengers.

The cabin was filled with tired, somewhat restless travelers.  They

either wanted to get home, or to their hotels at their destinations.

None of them seemed too anxious about the flight.

Bob settled in himself.  Napping cut the trip time for him.


Arrival.  Next time he'd spring for a limo.

He shared a cramped cab from Laguardia with 3 other people.

Not fun, he decided.  Well, not entirely fun.  There was a very

attractive, lithe little blonde going to mid-town with him.

The blonde was willing to talk to him.  Her name was Andy, she told

him.  They arranged to meet at a restaurant she called 'Possible 20'

somewhere in the area of his hotel for a late dinner.  He used skill

of conversation in the cab, not the talent for control.

He checked into the hotel, depositing his clothing in the room by

hanging the garment bag in the closet.  He planned to meet Andy at

8:00 but it was almost that now.

Fortunately, the taxi driver knew exactly where the restaurant was.

He walked in only ten minutes late.

He didn't see her in the front room, but in the rear section of the

place she waved and smiled from a table under a picture of Groucho

Marx. The decor's theme was theater and movies. There were men and

women in suits as well as jeans, an interesting mix.

He smiled and walked over to join her, sitting under Groucho's cigar.

"Hello again."

"You may as well sit.  I ordered coffee for both of us."

As he sat, he opened the menu before him.  The fare was as mixed as the

fashion sense of the customers.  He was pleased at the choices.

"Sorry I'm late, concierge slowed me down in the lobby of the

hotel.  I've only been to New York once before, had a little

trouble getting everything straightened away."

"Its okay.  The restaurant would be empty anyway.  Curtain time has the

crowds under control at the moment.  No one will be here until after

the last act."


"Theater district is just a little downtown.  The theater crowds will

be busy at the moment.  This place draws some of the theater goers."

"Oh.  I see.  The theaters have that much effect on the crowds?"

"In the evening, yes.  Going to be in the City long?"

"Just tonight and tomorrow this trip."

"Oh dear.  Well we wouldn't want you to leave thinking badly of The

City." The way she said 'The City', he knew she meant it to be all

caps.  He'd met hard core New Yorkers before, but she was a living

example of New York City as center of universe thinking.

He ordered skins, potato skins, the meal on the plane had somehow

irritated his stomach.  She had some kind of sandwich, he didn't pay

attention to what.

She'd changed from the outfit she wore in the cab.  She now wore a

dark sports jacket with elbow patches over a fluffy white blouse,

slim jeans, and flats. Her hair was a bouncy shoulder length, almost

golden blonde.  Her face had high cheeks, a perpetual smile and

almost laughing eyes. He admired her thin tender looking ears as well.

They lost themselves in discussions of international politics for a

time.  Was the economic future of the country dependent on finding an

accommodation with Japan, were the Germans really getting their house

in order, more trivia of interest.  She proved better read on many

topics than he, often bringing in some little piece of information or

another he'd overlooked lately.

"What do you do?" she finally asked.

"I manage my investments."

"Oh? you a broker?"

"No, just found a way to stop working for other people and manage a

portfolio instead.  Got lucky I guess.  What about you?"

"Oh, I do a little of this, a little of that.  I've been working

through temp agencies for some time.  Right now I'm running a real

small business's accounting department."

"Good deal, I guess, if you can find something like that. How come you

were at the airport then?"

"Went to visit my sister in KayCee."

It took a minute, but he realized she meant Kansas City.

He paid for dinner.  Anyone working through temp agencies, he figured,

wouldn't mind dinner on him.  He was right, she seemed grateful he had

picked up the tab.

They walked down Broadway.  She led him through Times Square, past the

hordes of beggars, street vendors, and musicians with hats or tins out.

At one point, the break dancers had taken over the entire sidewalk.

They walked around through street traffic. There seemed to be a flow

of people through the busy, yet sporadic flow of cars and busses.

They strolled south for some time.  Andy called the direction

downtown. She pointed out some of the better known buildings.  They

slipped over to the library, she tried but failed to remember the

names of the Lions.

He laughed at this and told her their names.  He stole into her

thoughts to pull the information out.  For all he knew, she wasn't

right either, but she thought he was.

She pointed out a building south of the Library.  It had a gold

colored top.  The lights shone brightly, accenting the gold top. She

informed him solemnly this was the American Standards building.  She

laughed because he remained mystified.

"It's the company that make toilets, silly.  Think of all the

crappers it took to build the thing." She continued to laugh.  He


"Sir Thomas would be proud."

"Sir who?" she said.

"Sir Thomas, Sir Thomas Crapper, the inventor of the flush toilet as

we know it.  Was knighted for his effort."



Her laughter was contagious.


They had gotten back to his hotel.  It was about 11:30.  He was amazed

a city could be so busy, even late at night.

Andy was going to say good-bye at the door to the hotel, but he

talked her into seeing him to his room.  Sensing what he could say

helped.  She had been holding his hand now for some time, quite

content with his company.

At the door, he kissed her.  She seemed to like it.  A second, somewhat

sloppier kiss followed.  Her tongue joined in the act.

"Isn't this just a little fast?" she ducked her head down so he

couldn't continue.  He felt uncertainty within her, an interest in

going on, but reluctantly.


"On what?"

"Whether we both want to or not." With his left hand he lifted her

chin, with his right he opened the door.  She followed his kiss into

the hotel room.

"I, uh, don't think this is such a good idea."

Bob pulled her to him, and plunged his tongue into her mouth.  She

tasted delicious.  Her eyes closed in rapture each time his lips

locked against hers.  She relished each kiss as though it was the

first she'd ever had.

His hands held her arms at the shoulders, holding her tightly to him.

He used the grip to turn her enough to allow him to suck gently at

her neck.

He could sense a decision inside her being reached, whether to stay;

spending the night, or go; in hopes he'd come see her again.  He let

her work on the thought while he worked on the soft skin of her neck.

"I'll stay," she whispered, "but I don't know if I'll regret this in

the morning."

"I hadn't asked you."

"You would have," she started to nibble at his neck and chin.

He kicked off his shoes.  She dropped the sports jacket and stepped

out of her flats.  Taking her hand he led her to the bed.  She looked

at it briefly, shuddered a moment. Determined, she sat at the edge

and raised her arms to entice him to her.

He entered her arms, and pulled her to him as he rolled to a prone

position.  She grinned above him, diving the six inches to his face to

kiss him then pulling back.  She teased him this way for a few minutes.

He reached a hand behind her neck and held her to a passionate kiss,

tongues in collision.  Her eyes remained enticingly closed during every

meeting of their lips.  Her hand drifted to his hardening prick.

"Oh my, did I do that?"

"As if you didn't already know."

"Can I have it for my very own?"

"We can let you test drive it..."

She began unwrapping the prize she sought.  First his belt, then the

button on his trousers, and the zipper made a resounding 'ZZZippp!' as

she pulled it down.  They both giggled.

As she pulled the elastic of his underwear over the stiff member, it

popped to immediate attention.  With a victorious smile, she

performed a mock salute to the little soldier.

"Remain at attention!" she said.

He laughed at her playful attack.  She plunged her mouth over the tip,

soaking him between her warm wet lips.  Her hair shook lightly at the

motions she made.

He watched the twinkle in her eyes grow as she licked and nibbled the

length of his cock, between her attempts to bring the head into her

throat.  The tingle he was beginning to feel improved as she grasped

the base of his prick with one of her soft warm hands.  She squeezed it

and pumped whenever her head wasn't seeking to engulf its length.

He couldn't help thrusting into her face, every time she sucked him

in.  The pink tongue sometimes showed around the edges of his cock as

she sucked.  He struggled to avoid pulling her head to force himself

deeper into the orifice he was fucking.

She watched his face as she sucked.  Her activity became more

enthusiastic as she saw him more frenzied.  The pressure rose in his

groin.  He felt fluids starting to travel.

"I'm coming Andy.  I'm coming."

"MMPPPH!" She plunged his cock deeply into her mouth, driving him past

her rear teeth, and at last, into her throat.  He felt her rear teeth

rubbing sharply against the body of his penis.

She kept this deep throat action going while his groin muscles

mechanically pumped a volume of come into her.  She held him in her

throat as long as she could hold her breath, lips and tongue rubbing

against the root and balls.  She enjoyed his facial expression during


Then she sat back.  He rolled on his side in contentment.

"Good." she said.

"Good what?"

"Now when I get you hard again, you'll last longer."

He laughed again.  She'd entered into the fun, having made her


"You needn't have worried.  That's the one muscle I have with endurance

to spare."

It was her turn to laugh.  She peeled away her blouse, leaving her

breasts bound in their double barrel slingshot.  Then she dropped her

jeans, revealing a lacy pair of panties.  She left these on and began

unbuttoning Bob's shirt.  After pulling his pants off, she made him

shed the remains of his shirt.

"I'm gonna leave these on just to give you some continued interest,"

she waved at the underwear she wore.  Her tits seemed to fill the bra

quite nicely, and a hint of the dark patch of pubic hair was visible

around the edges of her panties.

Her body slipped up against Bob's naked skin.  She felt smooth and silky

as she rubbed her legs against his.  He began to caress her arms and

shoulders as they once again began to neck.  He carefully traced lines

across her back, following paths her nervous system reacted to well.

She let out a sigh, enjoying the way he anticipated points on her

back she wanted touched.  Enjoying her response, he began to tease

along her pleasantly round hips the same way.

"oooo, that's nice!" He liked the way her lips shaped the sounds.

He sensed itching and tingling under the bra straps she wore. So he

reached around and hooked the eyelets free.  The back now loose, her

flesh in the front still cupped in the bra, he moved the straps to

the sides.  Then he scratched her back along the places they had been

binding her.

She tucked her head down against his chest and purred.  She was making

a low rumbling and rolling 'rrr' noise until she slipped her lips

forward and began to suck at his nipple.  Then the sound came from her


Not allowing her to resume control, he reached his hand down between

her panties and bottom.  It was soft to the touch, and he kneaded the

cheeks gently.  This also brought a sigh of joy from Andy.  She was

writhing slowly against his leg, and he pushed her ass to force her

groin to grind harder.  He could feel the beginnings of rolling in her

abdomen muscles from excitement.

Her breath stepped up in speed.  No, not yet gasping, but more

rhythmic, more lusty, more heat.  She wasn't showing signs of real

exertion yet, no sweat, no hurrying.

He pushed her back and pulled the bra away from her chest.  He

admired the flesh exposed by her further nudity.  The breasts

themselves were much paler than the rest of her, almost an alabaster

white.  At the apex were tiny red/brown nipples, but oddly inverted.

There were little puckers where the knobby tips should be. He'd never

seen nipples inverted before!

He sucked at one, the nipple popped out, remaining out while erect.

They both became hard quickly, slowly softening when he paid more

attention to the other.  She didn't enjoy more brutal treatment of her

nipples, he could tell before she said so, but her response to really

hard sucking was enormous.  So he sucked her into his mouth and

tickled the stiff ends with his tongue tip.

She rewarded him by groaning and moaning, her hands and arms wrapping

themselves around his head as he suckled her tits.  She clutched him to

her tightly as he attacked them, her head craning backwards as she

moaned out her happiness.  His nose and eyes pushed into the pale


Eventually she pushed him back.

"Please, I want you now.  I want to feel you inside me."

He helped her remove the panties, tossing them to the side.  She lifted

her legs, but he pulled her up to a sitting position.

"Get on top."

She squatted on her heels above his cock, guiding it into her.  He could

feel her moisture as her cunt slid down over his pole.  Impaled, she

knelt open mouthed above him.  Her nipples remained pointed out, sharp

and beautiful.

He began to sit up.

"What the...?"

"Bring your legs around behind me, sit on my lap."

She struggled to unbend her kneeling knees, letting him sit at the

edge of the bed, her body wrapped around his, with his cock violating

her deepest recesses.

"OOOOooooohhh," a moan escaped, not released, but forcefully freed.

He lifted, then dropped her in his lap.  She held onto him, weaving her

fingers together behind his neck.  He had a good view of his own

manhood thrusting into her as she gasped and moaned with pleasure.

His hands were locked under her buttocks, helping keep entry and

withdrawal motions going.  She was moving well on her own now, so he

disengaged his hands.  His right hand sought out the meeting of their

flesh at her hot wet cunt lips from the back.

He felt his prick sliding in and out as she moved above.  Her head

was starting to whip back and forth, gaining intensity with every

plunging entry his cock made.

Tracing back up with his fingers, he felt her asshole.  It was making

puckering and unpuckering motions along with the rest of her.

She was working up to another plateau of pleasure.  He could sense a

thrill within her as he tickled the ring of her anus.

Suddenly he invaded her anal orifice with his finger, driving it in to

the second knuckle.

"YESSSS!" she screamed out immediately.  "YESS! YESS! YES!"

She was bucking madly, thrusting back, not only at his prick, but

against the intruding finger up her ass as well.  She was sweating now

profusely.  An orgasm which clutched at his prick surged from her.  He

fucked her ass thoroughly with his finger as she came.

"FUCK, FUCK ME!" came the cry as the tension in her muscles tightened

with cramp proportions.  Then she came down a little.  He kept at her,

tilting his head down at an angle to suck a nipple, he continued to

fuck her cunt, and her ass.

"NOT AGAIN! YES!" came a gleeful, and perhaps triumphant howl.

She swung her head wildly and let go another screaming orgasm.  He felt

a surge of liquid fire rise within, so he let loose his second orgasm

for the night.  The come flooded out the tip of his cock, he could

almost see the seed enter her.  Some dripped around the opening of the

girl at the point their bodies were joined.

She slowly went limp in his arms.  Obviously glowing with a joy of

someone just fucked, she smiled radiantly at him.

They sat for a while, with him inside her.  She was overwhelmed with

afterglow, for now.


"I've never seen inverted nipples before," he was playing with the

tips of her breasts.  They looked like tiny belly buttons, only a red

brown color.  She smiled at him as he got one to pop up erect.

"They've been there all my life."

"It must be unusual."

"I suppose, but not to me."


"You hit a real hot spot fingering my, um, bottom."

He looked at her, surprised.

"You've never had anyone, er, fondle your ass before?"

"My ass, yes, my asshole, no."

"You don't know what you're missing."

"I think you may be right, although."


"If you'd suggested it before our little dalliance, I would never've

gone to bed with you."

"Well, if I can get it up again," looking down at the semi-stiff

prick, "we can try a little back door delight.  You want to try?"

"Oh, but it might hurt."

"Nonsense, I brought some baby oil.  We'll just get your tail oiled up

and you'll find it less difficult than you think."

"Um," she tossled his hair, and nibbled at his ear.  She spent a few

minutes thinking it over, "okay, you can take my ass.  I'm game."

"Ha! not yet I don't, recuperation takes more than ten minutes."

"You want my virginity, you better rise to the occasion!"

"Oh, give me a break. I already came twice!"

She giggled, and sat up.  A moment latter her lips were actively

attempting to resuscitate his flagging pecker.  At his present level of

arousal, she easily fit his entire cock and balls in her mouth.  She

worked her lips over the glans, around the edges, tongued the under

seam.  He became stiff, one more time.

"Now don't do too much, you don't want me to come before I enter you."

She giggled and tried to smile at him while sucking with her mouth

and pumping with her hand.  A few minutes later his rod had achieved

suitable stiffness.

"Get your shoulders on the mattress, and stick your butt in the air."

She started to do so in the middle of the bed.  He got the baby oil.

Opening it, he rubbed some on his prick.

"No, no.  Get down here, the edge, yeah that's it, knees on the edge of

the bed." She moved again.

He took a handful of oil and rubbed it over her ass.

"Oh! That's cold!"

"Sorry, it'll warm up."

His hands on either cheek, he pried open her anus with his thumbs one

at a time, working the oil into her nether hole.  Then he moved his

cock's head against the opening.


In it went, about an inch and a half.  He paused, letting her adjust to

the plundering penis in her.  Her eyes showed wide open shock at the


"I feel like I gotta go."

"It'll pass as I get in deeper."

"God, I feel so fucking full already." Her face was turned back

towards him over her left shoulder, pressed into the mattress.  Tears

were forming in her eyes.

"Okay, I'll go in a little farther." so saying pushed another inch in.

"Ow! Oh! OH!"

"Want me to stop?"

"No! I mean, I think I'm gonna like this." She reached back to pull

her chalky white cheeks farther apart for him.

He pressed forward a little more, her sphincter looser now as she

relaxed and tried feeling the pleasant sensations.  He resolved to let

her work it out, rather than adjust her senses to accept it.

"Ahhh!" and she dropped into a continuous low moan.

Now he pressed all the way, so his balls teased her cunt and his tummy

rested against her spread cheeks.  He waited a moment for the muscles

of her ass to adjust to his presence.

He began the motion to plunder this treasure.  Out slowly, in slowly,

then faster, building a rhythm.

"Oh god, yes, that's so fucking good." her eyes shuttered from

arousal.  A pink tongue slipped out of her mouth to apply pressure to

her lips.

He reached around and began to play with her clit.  The oiled fingers

made the contact smoother and seemed to allow movement with less

irritation to her skin.

"YESS!" she hissed.  Her own rhythm began to meld with his.  If

anything, she was trying to slam her ass against him now.  He felt the

grip of her ass muscles as she began to pulse with the heat.

The hand that wasn't busy, his left, he reached for her left tit.

Finding the nipple he began rolling it between his thumb and

forefinger.  In moments he had the tip out from it's hiding place.

She moaned, raising her shoulders and tucking her head down


He felt her reach orgasm.  His own release came soon afterwards,

pouring semen into the darkness of her ass.  She was screaming, he

was lunging, they both collapse, with his cock still up her ass.

"God, that was..." she trailed


"Different," she looked at him lustily, perhaps divining emotions to

go along with her physical pleasure.  "yes, it was different.  I'd

never have done that without, well, I guess you turn me on a lot."

"Well, I need a shower, wanna play?" He pulled out, with an audible


She pouted.

"I liked that in there."

"You can have it again, if you behave nicely." he whacked her bottom

playfully and headed to the bathroom, "but I need some sleep tonight."

They showered together.  She had fun soaping his crotch, he had fun

soaping hers.  Her nipples popped up again under the spraying water.

They slept.


In the morning, he took her again.  He took her ass, if for no other

reason, she like it.  He asked why.  She said part of it was the

helplessness she felt with him pinning her on her face.

He laughed at this explanation, but he entered her rear plumbing

again, to her delight.  If he could get it up again, he was certain

she'd demand another opportunity to enjoy the new experience.

When she left, she insisted on getting a phone number from him.

Instead he got hers, and told her he would pay the fare for her to

visit him soon.  Within a few weeks.

Then he left to pursue business opportunities.

And done with business, he picked up a package at a little store in



The plane was airborne.  His trip successful at the 5th broker he'd

visited.  He was pleased.

He called Andy to say good-bye, he'd promised to, after all.  But she

was out, and her answering machine picked up.  He left a cute, but

romantic enough message, saying he wanted her again, er, to see her


Then he'd flagged down a hack.  The cab ride was bumpy and brutal.  But

he made it in time for his flight.

There was another probing of his mind at Laguardia, but he was

prepared.  He obviously didn't trigger any alarms, but was very

nervous when his keys set off the metal detector.

The flight was nearly empty.  Four other passengers, and as many

stewardesses.  The airline couldn't be happy about it.

His frolic with Andy left him horny.

Part of the problem he had was related to his talent.  He'd only

needed to use it to read her mind. She had reacted well, mostly

because he knew exactly what she'd wanted.  But he found arousal in

using the talent as well.

The captain turned off the seat belt sign.

After glancing briefly at a magazine from the pocket before him, he

got up to wander to the head.  When he came out, a stewardess was

working in the storage pantry at the back of the plane.

Taking a quick look up the aisle, he saw they were pretty well


She looked up at him and smiled.  It was a typical "You're the

customer" smile, intended to be professional but not terribly


She was well built.  Her legs showed attractively below a short skirt,

part of the uniform.  Her vest covered only part of a starched white

button down blouse, and a badge pinned to the vest proclaimed her to

be Robin.  Robin had blue eyes, in contrast to her brunette hair,

held back on the sides with a barrette.   Her shape suggested some

sweet curves, and her backside was tight, at least as far as he could


"Hello Robin."

"Can I help you sir?"

"As a matter of fact, yesss..." He slipped a feather light tendril into

her mind.  She would now believe she was home with her boyfriend.  Bob,

of course, would fill that roll.

"Hello darling." she reached her arms around his neck and planting a

loving kiss.  He moved his hand up to her breast and began feeling

through the material.

"Oh sweetheart, not now.  I just finished work."

Well.  She had interesting evasions for her boyfriend when she got

home.  He did what he'd avoided with Andy.  He used the talent to

created arousal signals in her groin and tits.

"Well, maybe we could," she continued while caressing his crotch,

"I'll get the chains out.  Do you want to be chained to the bed or

the floor?"

Whoops!  This wasn't going to work for Bob!  He did a search through

her mind, finding an old friendship she concealed from her 'pet'


Now she saw him as some guy named George.  George was the man she'd

grovel before, if he wanted.  Apparently it never actually came to that.

But thinking she was with George got her juices really running.

She immediately changed her own persona, draping herself against him,

reaching her hands up to run them through his hair.  Her voice dropped

half an octave, and she spoke.

"Hi lover.  Missed you.  Where have you been?" Bob had to look again to

be certain the voice came from the same woman.  He pulled her face to

his, driving his tongue between her lips.  He'd swear she had almost

done a traditional swoon, dropping her own muscle control to let him

hold her up.

He led her aside to the little pantry nook and began necking with her.

While his lips pulled at her cherry tongue, he reached out his probes

to ensure none of the other passengers or attendants would bother


She licked and chewed at his neck.  He lifted her skirt and pulled her

panties to her knees.  His hand felt the wetness she'd developed after

seeing George standing beside her.  He almost felt sorry for George,

missing this fine moment with her.

"Okay lover, turn around and bend down."

"Anything you say George."

She turned and jutted her tush up.  Bob reached around her, separated

her blouse in the front, and was rewarded to find a quick release

front snap for her bra.  Her ample bosom was released and he felt

the large hanging boobs, seeking the nipples with his thumb and

forefingers.  She let loose a low grunting moan.

After a few moments he undid his pants, allowing them to drop to his

knees.  His stiff wang wagged between them and he guided it, from

behind, into the soaking wet tunnel she'd proffered.

He began to ram in and out of her and she made appropriate gasping

sounds, pleasing him.  After a few minutes though he pulled out again.

"Don't stop now, lover," she said.  He grinned thinking of his early

morning exercise with Andy.  He enjoyed her enthusiastic sexual antics

a lot.  He spread Robin's cheeks and pressed the tip of his prick

against the rosette.

"NO!, oh please lover, anything, anything at all but that!" she

squealed in her original voice.

"Just hold still, you'll like it," to ensure this, Bob eased her

muscles with mild controls, and increased the pleasure symbols her

nervous system was carrying already.  He pressed in an inch.  She was so

tight, he feared he might not make it in.

"OH! OH! NO! MY GOD! DON'T!" she continued, but her butt wiggled a

little from stimulation, rather than pain.  "YOU CAN'T FIT THERE!"

He pressed in farther.  He also raised the still mild stimulus to hot

lust in her rectum.  She pressed back against him hard.  With a quick

thrust she was completely impaled.  Her head shook, tears running down

her face.  She also moaned excitedly.

He thought of Andy, while pumping into Robin.  He reached around and

began to pinch her nipples.  She snapped her head up, letting out a

sharp squeal of joy.  Her head shook wildly in abandon.

She shoved down harder against his cock, but he started to come.  The

burst of semen planted by his prick into her ass dribbled out a

little.  He pulled out, while her asshole almost seemed to suck the

last drops from him.  His cock was starting to go limp all ready.

Using towels near at hand, he cleaned up some. She continued to

squirm, just shy of having come.

"Follow me." he said, pulling his pants up.

She followed him to his seat, empty seats to either side.  He moved

over by the window and instructed her to sit beside.  Opening his pants

again, he had her start to blow him.

He had another stewardess bring him something to drink.  This one,

named Janet apparently, looked nothing like the Janet he knew.

Her hair was long and black, her lips full and deep red.  She wore the

same uniform Robin had on, showing slightly bow legs, but attractively

curved anyway.  She stopped and stared at Robin sucking his cock.

She had much smaller knockers.  He had her show them to him.  The

knobby little nipples were already excited.  At his command she began

to pinch and play with them.

He knew he could make her forget all this. Instead, he had her

masturbate for him in the aisle.  While she did this, he came all

over Robin's face.

He gave his little cocksucker a remote control orgasm, forcing her to

come immediately.  He watched as she flopped to and fro in her

release.  She smiled gleefully afterwards, obviously thinking of


Then he released Robin to her job errands, causing her to remember

meeting with George, but forgetting just when.

Janet replaced Robin at his crotch.

For fun at the end of the flight he made all of the stewardesses

come, one by one, as he touched their lips with his forefinger.  They

all lined up for him as he left.  It was a rousing display, not one

of them able to remain standing. He had all the other passengers


It had been a very pleasant flight.

Not surprisingly, he was the only passenger who remembered the flight.

The crew only remembered what he wanted them to, a normal boring


The little demonstration of deep control titilated and aroused him.

He realized he'd become addicted to the sexual utility of the skill

he'd suddenly developed.

He realized further how childish and reckless the little act on the

plane was.  He started to worry if he was losing control of himself.

A possibility which frightened him.


Bambi nee Kim sat on a bus.  There were always interesting people to

read on a bus.

She had been fascinated by the other women in Bob's house, amazed she

was one of them and didn't resent it.  She was uncertain how she'd come

around to view him as the center of her universe, but well, there you


She retained most of her memories, but Harry had faded away into

oblivion.  She hardly thought of him any more.  When she did it was a

little like trying to remember a nightmare from last week.  If it

wasn't recurring, it lost its potentcy.

She'd lost a lot of strong opinions too, along with the memory of

Harry.  She no longer believed she had to be dressed in tight

concealing clothing in public.  Harry seemed to like the embarrassment

it caused to make her wear sexy things outside the house.  Overcoming

her fear of publicly wearing less conservative clothing had been hard

when she went to visit Bob.

She probed women far more often now.  She'd learned a lot of new

things about dressing and make up.  More importantly, she'd learned,

maybe relearned, she could earn a living herself. She'd gotten a

boost out of going back to work.

It hadn't lasted long, because Bob showed her she didn't need to work.

She had a talent now allowing her to make money in supposedly

speculative markets.  A little research here, a little there, and in

almost no time, she had real estate she could resell at a substantial


Now and then she had an urge to take some guy.  Just take him, make

him, and afterwards let him go with improvements.

Occasionally a sense of desire for punishment would seep up.  But

then a little inner voice would calm her, telling her Harry was dead,

and not all men should be like Harry was.

She didn't really understand where this voice inside came from, but

she felt better afterwards.  She knew Bob would take care of her needs.

Today she'd read the thoughts of two old ladies.  They'd just played

Bridge and were thinking about making a 'Grand Slam'.  Later she'd

snooped on a teenage boy who was watching her.  She was tempted to

fulfill his fantasy, but she really wanted Bob, not some kid.

She planted a memory in the boy of having screwed her, with details

he'd never forget.  He'd be happy when he got home.  Probably try to

relive the experience with some other older woman.

Now she snaked out thin tendrils to the people on the bus with her.

And stifled a gasp.  A man behind her wasn't there!  Well, maybe he

was, but there was no mind to examine.

The Institute was the only source of those mind shields!  She had to

flee before he figured out she was one of their 'sparks'.  She didn't

want to return to their labs.

At the next stop she got off.  So did he.  She tried wandering into a

few stores, but he was always outside when she stepped back out to the


He knew.  He didn't realize she knew about him.  The thought made her


So she slipped out the back of the next one.

She ran down the alley she found herself in.  Finding a man driving by

in a sporty red convertible, she stopped him using the talent and got

in.  She had him drive away quickly.

Within a few minutes she probed around her and no longer sensed the

deadness of mind shields.  She sighed relief.

The man drove her home, her new home, and forgot all about it.


Bob came home without fanfare.  Well, mostly anyway.

"Hello, missed ya," Betty stood up against his chest, demanding a

kiss.  Like a little puppy who'd missed the family.  He gave her a

small peck on her nose.

"Hi.  Any calls?"

"Janet called, she says she's horny again and Ben isn't cutting the

mustard.  Wants some 'special' treatment."

"Hmm, any others?"

"Yes, Fran checked in on schedule.  I told her you wouldn't need her

this weekend.  Is that all right?"

"Sure.  You can fill in for her."  Betty turned red, then looked down

at her toes tracing circles on the rug.  She decided it was a good

idea anyway. Randi was starting to be fun to be with.

"As you wish.  And some woman named Mary called.  Said you knew her


"Very good." he rewarded her with a deep, loving kiss.  Then he carried

the garment bag to his room.


"Hello Janet."

"Bob! I've missed you."

Well that would soon change, he thought.  Ben didn't deserve the

problems with Janet coming over to Bob's so often.  A friend was

important enough to help out.  He carefully planted a little program

of symbols to arouse her intensely when with Ben.

If all worked out, her interest in him would begin to wane.  Problems

with Ben were one thing he could avoid easily.

They had a quick, and somewhat disappointing fuck.  Oh, she enjoyed

it, so did he, but he knew she'd begin to see him as a great short

term lover, not the one she really wanted.  Oh, they'd do it again.

But he'd made certain she'd yearn for more sensual activity

afterwards, for Ben.

Bob hit the road.


Bob reached out to Randi and summoned her.  He summoned Bambi too.

They arrived a few minutes apart, both certain he'd be there, but

trying to bring him some little problem to discuss.

Settling Bambi into his chair, he stood with Randi and began kissing

her.  Randi responded immediately, without hesitation.  She'd devoted

herself to him, believing, trusting completely he would take care of

all her needs.  He could sense total trust welling within her.

He petted her gently.  Excited, as she always was with him now, her

breath became shorter.  She even got this way when he simply used her

without giving her release.  Often it led to a greater release later,

but always she got excited by his touch.  Unlike any other man she had

ever met.

Bambi watched with mild interest as Bob pulled up the house skirt

Randi wore and tested her wetness with his fingers.  >ungg< came from

the brunette.  Moans developed from her as he twisted her nipples

gently through the blouse.

Bambi sat still as possible in his chair, trying to remain

comfortable while Bob made use of the other woman.  She hadn't been

made to watch before, but if he wanted it, she would perform this


Then Bob sat Randi down on the couch.  He spread her legs and pulled

her skirt away from her crotch.  Establishing Bambi's view was

excellent, he licked and nibbled at the inner thighs Randi offered


Bambi watched his behavior with interest.

His tongue traced the muscles and folds in her crotch.  Randi sighed

and let her moans slowly fill the room.  She moved with rhythmic pulses

of her torso.

Then Bob stopped.

Randi whimpered with desire, a need, a strong need to be satisfied.

Bob grinned and went to the package he'd returned from New York with.

From the bag he withdrew a twenty-four inch double headed dildo.

Randi gasped at the sight.  Bambi drew in a deep breath, a little

nervous, thinking she knew what Bob had in mind.

He oiled the artificial cock and pushed one end into Randi's cunt.

It was thicker than Bob's prick, but Randi took it as he slipped it


"Bambi, take off your blouse and skirt."

She complied.  Naked except for a garter belt, stockings, and high

heels she stood with her magnificent boobs hanging before her.  Oh,

not hanging real bad, but consider her incredible assets.

"This end is for you," Bob waved the other end of the phony prick at


"What!?" she stared at the woman on the couch.  And at the head of

the prick she now had to accept from that same woman.  She wasn't

sure of this idea.  She was unsure she could do this.

Bob led her over, and had her kneel over Randi on the couch.  Randi

was salivating openly at the idea of finally being given Bambi. "Oh

god, yes!" slipped out between her puffed up red lips. Bob had come

through for Randi again.

Randi licked the air before Bambi's cunt lips while they wagged

before her face. Soon, however, Bob had settled her back, getting

Bambi to squat over the prick Randi imagined was hers.

Randi took to sucking the big boobs hanging before her now.  Bambi,

aroused by physical stimulus, more than the situation perhaps, began

to feel shivers of excitement run down her spine.

Bob forced her onto the synthetic pecker.  It was huge.  She thought

it was splitting her open, although she knew she'd had bigger. She

felt as though the other woman was forcing a cock into her. Inching

it in, Bob finally had both women attached at the crotch the way he'd


Randi began to hump mildly.  The motion of the gigantic false prick

caused Bambi to gasp with surprise and sharp pleasure.  The depth of

the intrusion was incredible and she felt it wanted to creep up and

out her throat.

Bob formed the mental image of a phallic shaped mind probe and

violated Bambi's mind at the same time.  She felt his entry almost as

if he were entering her pussy.  His probe slithered into her and now,

she could sense, he was her.  He was fucking Randi using her body.

He'd taken complete physical control and was letting her watch and

feel from the recesses of her own mind.

Bob could feel Bambi's tits.  And Randi was pinching at one

viciously as she bit, really bit, at the other.  He could feel the

incredible monster cock inside her, and by clenching the muscles of

Bambi's cunt, he pushed it into Randi.  She was trading the favor for


He plunged Bambi's tongue into Randi.  Bambi felt it and savored the

total loss of control.  Her pleasures were complete in this activity,

her own personal desires subborned into his.  Bob owned her and she

now liked being his chattel more than anything else.

Bob though hadn't pulled out all the stops yet.  Although he was

operating Bambi a little like a puppet, he still was aroused in his

own body.  Stripping, he pressed Bambi forward.  The rubber cock was

bent over, and Bambi was on top of Randi.  Now her rectum was

exposed.  He could feel the tickle in her ass as he rubbed his cock

against the little flower of her anus.

The girls paused for him while he made his entry to Bambi's second

hole.  He worked it in, inch at a time.  Slowly, ever so slowly, he

pushed his cock in to the hilt.  He was thrilled, he really was

fucking both women at the same time.

Bambi felt full.  The rubber cock bent between her and Randi. She was

surprised, but Bob's presence had left, where did he go? Then she saw

Randi's eyes pop open.

Yes, she thought.  Bob is fucking both of us in every possible way.  He

can violate our most inner sanctum, in every way, we are both

totally property, as totally as he can make us.

Bob looked up at his own face over Bambi's back.  He pulled her lips

down to Randi's and engaged in a lip and tongue duel.  Bambi tasted

very yummy to Randi.

The double headed dildo was doing its job.  Both women were heavily

aroused from the friction of the false phallus.  Bob added to their

fire by fanning the erotic sensations they felt.  He reached for

Bambi's tits with Randi's hands.  He reached for Randi's tits with

Bambi's hands.  He pumped his cock up Bambi's tight, tight ass, reaming

her out.

Bambi came first.  Her mind, realizing just how brutally she was being

used, not only front and back, but her entire body and mind, was

aroused far beyond her norm.  She was engaged in kissing Randi when she

began to scream.  Bob thought it appropriate she had 'come' in Randi's


Randi wasn't far behind.  Her body, crushed with the weight of the two

bodies above her was feeling flashes of radiant heat pull her into the

abyss of orgasm.

Bob, last of all, poured his jism into Bambi's ass.  The tight ring of

muscle squeezed at him, ejecting him as he became limp.

The girls remained connected.

Bob moved back to his chair.  He watched the female forms on his

couch come down now.  Bambi was somewhat uncomfortable with Randi's

proximity.  He'd decided everyone would eventually get it on in his

house, and she'd best get used to it.

"Don't let it out of your cunts."

The sex toys on the couch tried to find a way to get comfortable while

attached at the hips.  They worked their way around and finally each

had a head on an arm of the couch.  Their crotches remained together,

actually a few inches apart, and their legs were intertwined.

Bob thought for a time.  The women became slightly restless but

obedient to his instructions.  A contest of sexual frenzy, Bob thought.

"Okay, Let's see which of you can make the other come first."

Both women looked over at him.  Randi was thanking him with her eyes.

Bambi was confused, not having expected this situation to arise.  She

was enjoying herself, but felt a nagging censor at the back of her

head.  Bob remembered full well she'd believed girl/girl sex was a bad

thing, but he also knew it for a 'Harry' planted idea, not really her

own view.

Randi immediately began to hump her groin against Bambi's, pressing

their mutual cocks deeper.  This was poor strategy, since she also

was stimulating her own genitalia.

Bambi fondled Randi's nipples, bringing about a gasp from her, um,

competition.  She pulled and pinched, using her own talent to find

the other woman's weaknesses.

To Bob's surprise, Bambi swept out a control probe to Randi, which he

swept aside in a hurry.  She'd realized she could use her talent to win

this contest.  Bob smiled to himself, tempted to let her do so.  It

would serve the little cunt to get used by another woman, instead of

the other way around.

"No Bambi.  I don't want you to play that way today," he said. "Maybe


Randi worked her thumb against Bambi's clit.  Bambi couldn't stop from

letting out a moan.  Randi tried to pull one of Bambi's large boobs

within sucking reach.  She couldn't quite from the position they were

in, but a violent yank on the nipple reached one of Bambi's weaknesses.

She thrilled in the pain shooting through her tit.  She was now

bucking far more violently against the rubber dick between them.

Bambi's breath was almost a visible moist movement.  Her cunt was

twitching, and Bob watched the heat rising in her.

Randi too was excited.  Her lust at having Bambi had her nerve endings

enflamed.  It also helped to have Bambi's hands all over her.  She

panted rapidly, while seeking a further way to force Bambi to come


"I, I, I can't, uh, can't..." Bambi was rubbing Randi's bump of

clitoral flesh with a thumb now, but muttering about difficulty of

contact.  Randi almost going over herself, began to crush Bambi's

little clitoris bundle.

"AAAAIIIIEEEEE!" screamed Bambi, threshing against the bruising

treatment she was receiving.  The lightning flash of orgasmic energy

jolted her about.

"GODDDDAMNIT YES!" followed the screech from Randi just moments

later.  The two women bucked against each other's crotch while

keeping their hands in place, manipulating the sex they each held.

They eased back in slow motion, resting their sweat covered heads.

Their hair pointed in places from the dripping sweat. Flushed pink

from the exertion, neither had their eyes open.

Bob got a blanket and covered them.  They remained nestled together,

still inside each other by virtue of an artificial organ.  Every

now and then one of them would kiss the other's leg or foot.

Bob just went back to reading.


Betty was at the grocery store with Bambi.

Bob had told her to pick out a woman for him to screw tonight. Bambi

would make sure the choice came along.  She was to give the choice to

him as a 'gift' to show her obedience.

Betty felt completely humiliated. The embarrassment had kept her

panties dripping since they left the house.

The worst part was knowing he'd take the woman she chose, making

Betty watch. Thinking that, she had to struggle not to finger

herself. She had been directed not to orgasm until Bob said so.

She spotted a nice looking woman, about 32 by the fruit. Betty had

already discarded four other possible choices when she saw this one.

The woman was about 5'8" and was shapely. Her eyebrows were little

arches over deep brown eyes.  Her nose was long, leading down to a soft

red pair of lips.  Her hair was in a short pony tail, a dark blonde.

Betty realized she didn't want this woman to make love with Bob.  He

would enjoy such a choice.  She suppressed her own will for his.

She pointed the woman out to Bambi.

The three of them left together.


The man looked at the note he'd just received.



He scrawled "OK' and his initials.  After a moment he added the word

"Maximum" after the OK.  He set it aside for operations.

He picked up another report on his desk.  Tyler was programmed and

ready to be turned over to Jezabel. Tyler would know he was being

punished, but he could no longer do anything about it.

Among other reports on political supporters, financial problems,

manpower requirements, and security background checks, there was

data from the airport. Some problem with a scanner, a freakish

misreading or such. He set it aside, unwilling for now to decide,

how to investigate the report.

He brushed his sleeve, straightening the creases.


Part 7


Many mind shields moved about in the neighborhood. Bob could feel the

mentally dead spots all over. At least a dozen he could sense


Bob wasn't sure how they'd narrowed down the search to here, but the

reality was, they were here.

Guessing at what could happen, and hopeful the hunters would leave the

women alone, he'd written a note. It said he'd be gone a week or two,

they should keep the household in good order for his return. He

planted suggestions in their sleeping minds to keep them content

together waiting for him. No matter how long it took.

There were at least six hunters out back. He figured there were

another three or four on either side of the house. And out front...

A movie style CIA staff car look alike stopped in front. Two more

pulled up on either side of it. Several more of the nearly invisible

unreadable men got out of the dark boxy cars.

They gathered, one man, in a perfectly pressed suit swept his arms

right and left. They parted like the sea before Moses. The man with

an unruffled G-man look started up the walk. He flowed along in a

smooth, unbroken motion, headed straight for Bob's sanctuary.

His nightmares come to life, he was surprised there weren't any guns.

There didn't appear to be any way out. He could only guess what would

happen to him.  It didn't seem likely they'd walk up and say, 'Nice

to see you're telepathic. Good going kid. Keep up the good work,'

then leave.

The doorbell rang. Well, it did a silly four note thing, more like

chimes.  Only a week ago he'd thought it cute when he bought it.  He

glared at the little box on the wall until it chimed again.

Well, he thought, time to brace up and face the devil.  He opened the

door at a normal pace to avoid startling the unusual visitor.  He was

rewarded with no overtly hostile reaction.


The man wore a perfectly pressed suit, a red silk tie, and black

shoes, just recently polished. His crew cut made the roundness of his

features stick out. Wrinkles, chicken tracks, around the eyes placed

him around 40-43 as near Bob could figure.

"Hi Bob. I'd like a chance to chat with you. May I come in?" The man

didn't bother to introduce himself.

"I don't see how I could stop you with all the manpower you brought."

The man chuckled, but didn't look over his shoulders for support.

Perfectly cool, he stepped into the house.  Bob led him to the living


"Well, this is a nice change. Your original furniture I gather." the

man said.  "Very unusual, most sparks just take what they like from

mutes.  Males often end up with poorly decorated domiciles. Very

strange affect, I'm not certain how to describe it. Kind of like late

american junk yard."

"I see." said Bob.

"Yup. You know we caught on to you very fast. Most sparks go two,

maybe three years before we find them. You wanna know how we found

you?," he paused, pulling a pack of cigarettes out. He went on before

Bob could form a reply, "the girl. Oh, not the harem girls you've

picked up, eh? That really is the best part of being a spark I guess,

the broads. Anyway, what was I saying? Right, the girl."

The man stabbed his thumb at his own chest.

"Our girl, the one we let loose. We lost her for a while when you got

to her, but you screwed up. You know how we found her? Give it a


Bob walked over to the window, peeking at the carefully deployed men

meandering around outside. His guest didn't mind.  A cigarette lighter

came out and was ignited.

"Please don't smoke," Bob said. There was no way to stop the man, but

the fellow looked at his cigarette and put it away. "I've no idea what

you're talking about."

The man laughed.

"Forget the bullshit. You've been plowing Kim and the two other women

you got living here regular as rain. You can do this because you pull

their strings. You also plow about three other women a week. Some of

them Kim brings to you for your leisure.

"The amazing thing is you ain't been stealing stuff too. We usually

catch the sparks by looking for swiped property, but you... You've

been careful to earn the money and buy what you want.

"No, you know what I'm talking about. Kim gave you away.  Not on

purpose, but almost as if she put a red siren light on top of your


Bob resigned himself to being 'found'. He breathed a deep sigh, trying

to figure the angles. Nothing this guy had said mattered much yet,

sort of complementary. Sort of. Almost admiring, but hostile at the

same time.

"Okay, but why bother to talk to me about it? Why not just grab me

like you seem to do with the other, what do you call us?, Sparks?"

The man shuffled over to the window for a moment. Bob couldn't sense

it, but he guessed it was to let the men outside see he was still

well. The man took in a deep breath, and sighed, almost resigned too.

"I've been remiss. My name is Jones, Dirk Jones," the man clasped his

hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "You, despite our

advantage in organization, are very unusual.

"You see, we've been picking up the snatch you throw back to analyze

what you do. Oddly, we can't find any sign of your meddling, unlike all

most sparks.

"Most of the other sparks tend to go mad. I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let's see.

"The men believe they've become God. They take the power they have and

start using it on the mortals around them. Women, men, it's

essentially the same MO. It's just a matter of time before we track

them down and catch them. Usually, when they find out there's someone

they have no power over, their marbles go rolling on the floor.

"Some get lonely, because they think nobody else like them exists. This

brings on a different kind of madness. It has the same net affect. You

watch them looking for their shooters on the floor.

"The women, they're a different story.  Depends on what they want. A

tiny fraction grab men or women for themselves and play. Them we can

catch quickly since they tend to be like the looney men.  Some of them

just use it to manipulate people they know.  Easy enough to find once

you see a pattern. Some women just want things and end up discovered

by our financial detectives.  Some try running around trying to do

good deeds," he laughed, "this brings us back to the god complex and

we can catch them.

"What we can't do is keep 'em. Most of them go around the bend faster

than shit through a goose. Kim's Harry for instance, managed to do

himself in. You've been different though.

"You seem pretty stable. You came up with a plan to become

economically solvent, without creating a statistical anomaly in the

crime data.  Somehow you don't leave a wide programming trail on the

women you've used, a more delicate touch, if you will. You kept your

own home and carefully concealed your new wealth.

"You only forgot a couple things."

Bob sat in the lounge chair. He looked up at Jones's face. He was just

a little curious.

"Which were?"

"You let the girl, Kim, remember her? You let her go buy and sell

things, big things like property with houses, in her own name."

"Ohhhh." Bob saw the stupidity. They couldn't miss records showing any

kind of detail, she'd had to use a real address too. How could he

overlook so simple an error? "So what now, again why talk to me?"

"Don't feel too bad. The airport jingle would've put us on to you in

another couple months anyway," came a consoling tone.  Jones was

sweating just a little.

"Airport jingle? What happened at the airport?"

"You took a trip. We take pictures of everyone going through

security. When you went through, our scanners acted up. We wouldn't

have actually checked on you for a few more months yet, but we always

follow through, even on the little stuff."

"Shit, so what do you want?"

"We're a big organization. There's always room for one more. But we

can't let a dangerous threat like some random spark run around loose

without some strings."

"And you propose...?"

"I'd like you to come to the Institute. See our facilities. You can

bring the harem with you, we don't care. You can even collect more if

you want, we'll even help. There any popular actresses you want? That

reminds me, where are your little marionettes?"

"The women are asleep. When I knew you guys were out there, I had them

lay down and made them sleep. I figured they might panic."

"Smart. Jesus Christ man, you make the other sparks look careless," he

appraised Bob again. "As I was saying, you come work for us, we'll

cater to your whims. All we want is a little help with our research,

and maybe help watching some people."

And probably they wanted him off the street. The watching people thing

bothered Bob.

Oh boy, thought Bob, gotta watch those enemies of the state.  Hell, it

might not even be the state, it might just be the enemies of the

Institute. Well, the guy may be sincere.  No way to tell with his

shield in place. I hope so, cause there's no way out of this mess for


"You aren't going to let me sleep on it, are you?"

"Not exactly son, no. Would you if you were in my shoes?"

"What then?"

"Come see the facilities. You may feel a lot better about joining the

team, our team." Jones was pitching. Bob didn't like it.

"I don't have much choice."

"You do, but the other choice is more painful..."


Two women and a man were in a room with a large bed. The bed was huge,

designed perhaps to hold four or five people at once. Around the bed,

in the shadows, were about a dozen chairs. The chairs all faced the


The two women were asleep across the bed, but would wake in a few


A uniformed messenger stepped into the room carrying a sheet of

paper. He walked over to the man. He tried to hand the sheet to the


"Never mind, what does it say?"

"Sir. The spark is coming willingly. The women don't seem to know

anything is out of the ordinary and the household hasn't been

disrupted yet. Jones says he's leaving the women alone for now."

"Very good. Let me know after attitude modification."

"Yes sir."

The messenger left, making a sharp turn, clicking his heels as he



They were escorted by two other cars. The drive was pleasant but long.

Bob thought they were either waiting for him to try something, or

trying to conceal the route they took from him.

While they rode, Jones told him about the Institute.

The Institute was over sixty years old now. The original founders had

been measuring brain activity secretly on an Army grant. Some rich

philantropist donated enough money to see they kept operating when the

congress cut them off.

The Institute had grown over the years. They had their fingers in a

lot of pies. Several investments had paid off, and now they were an

entirely independent operation.

Originally they were trying to ferret out spies with the mind scanner

they developed. They'd figured out how to scan, and what to do to

block scanning. But they couldn't seem to get a good handle on

implanting changes.

Kim had been an experiment, according to Jones. He claimed she was

socially disfunctional, so they had to try something. Bob figured

there was a lot more history they weren't telling.

Bob bided his time.


The man watched from the dark recesses of the room. The women couldn't

possibly know he was there. He liked having some control over what

the performance would be.

If he wanted, with their current programming, he could feel them up,

and they'd never know he'd done it. His smile was a wee bit wicked at

the thought. It was difficult, probably the most expensive process

for the Institute. But he insisted it be done.

These two women had never met before. They were due to wake up soon.

The one with the fiery red hair had a nasty tempter and a mean streak.

At least around men. This was Heather.

Heather wore sweats. She almost looked ready to go jogging. Her sneakers

were the finest available. The sweats didn't reveal much. Her height

was 5'7" and he knew her to be 36-24-34 in build. Couldn't tell the

measurements from here though. Her face was pale, with the carrot red

lips some redheads end up with. Her eyelashes were turning white and

accented the angry green eyes she wielded like weapons.

He knew from her records, she had been collecting female slaves when

she'd been caught. A regular bevy of Amazons mostly, but with a few

very feminine, delicate looking women too. He found in the psych

report she couldn't go long without sex. They'd kept her a week

without it, he knew this too.

The other woman was brunette. Her lips a dark red, the eyebrows

accenting downward towards her nose, which was long and narrow to just

above her lips. Her hair curled in spirals to the shoulders which were

rounded down her arms. This one also wore sweats, but they couldn't

conceal her larger bust. The nipples showed through from the strain

against the fabric.  She was 5' even, so the redhead towered over

her. She still seemed as if half her height was legs.

This one, named Jean, was picked up in a shopping spree. Amazing how

little she'd actually spent acquiring all the goodies she'd garnered.

'Born to Shop' was emblazoned on a bumper sticker of the car she'd

been driving. It was a sporty red model, no license plate. They'd

known where to look for her from the series of police reports on the

car which were canceled moments later by the officers making the

reports. It was suspicious when the 6th or 7th report came over the


Her psych report indicated she was uninterested in sex. Well, not

totally, but she'd been much more interested in collecting things from

the stores. She hadn't a boyfriend in over 2 years. And she had no

interest in women at all.

They had been let into the room and allowed to meet each other. The

observer was curious what would happen. There hadn't yet been any

experiments with two telepaths likely to be confrontational. This was

something he wanted to see. He'd tried very hard to make this


The brunette began to wake up first. She looked around, finding

herself on the bed. Another restraint they programmed was an

inability to get off the bed. She struggled clumsily to get her feet,

but the best she could do was stand up on the bed.

She saw the sleeping red head. Jean shook the red head awake.

There was a moment of confusion.


They pulled up to an isolated mansion. The gabled windows above

towered over a carefully manicured yard, the yard as large as a

couple football fields. Bob saw two functional fountains.

The building rose four stories and was covered with clinging vines.

There were bushes all around. In isolated clumps around the

building, there were men and women being escorted by nurses.

The sign over the door read _Biltmor Rehabilitation Institute_.

"Isn't the real name, you know, but it looks better when the state

investigates us. They have a bad habit of doing stuff like that."

Jones led him through the large oak double doors. They went through a

large ornate entry hall, and down a long length of corridor to the


Bob imagined the eyes on all the portraits in hall were following

them. Too many old movies and mystery novels.


Peters was considered a little odd by the standards of the other


He remembered vividly the day he attacked the tart with the huge

hooters. He'd really enjoyed the experience. Everyone told him it was

her fault. But beating her wildly while screwing her was the best sex

he could remember having.

Now, whenever possible, he would slip into one of the observation

rooms when one of the sparks was permitted their women. Today he

entered a dark room, well mostly dark. There was one lit wall. It was

a window wall, all glass.

On the other side of the glass was a comfortable looking room, King

size bed, dresser, arm chairs, a wall of books with a TV in the

middle. A phone was on the wall next to the door in the lit room.

In one of the chairs was a young man, age indeterminant, Peters

guessed 26 or 27. He was reading a book, Bob couldn't see what the

book was.

He looked over the empty plush seating in the room. Looking over the

log sheets he saw the patient, a spark, in the next room was actually

19. Psychiatric appraisal was this one would soon flip out, the well

known Diety complex everyone talked about.

They'd caught him a month before in a strip joint. He was

systematically beating the talent show girls. And they were showing

all the signs of really liking it. One or two, they wouldn't have

suspected he was a spark. Six he'd only just met was too much.

"Send one of them in." he spoke into the intercom. Then he took his

seat, front row, center.

"Yessir!" a static voice shouted back at him.

He flipped another switch. Every sound in the other room became

audible. The other side of the glass wall was mirror. The sparks knew

they were being watched, but the one way mirror arrangement let them

pretend they had privacy.

The page flip in the other room was very clear to Peters's ears, then

came the sound of a bolt being withdrawn.

The door inside the lit room opened. A radiant blonde, bright gold

hair, stepped into the room. The door latched and bolt slammed behind


"Hello Gabriella." Jimmy said.

The girl had to be in her early 30s. She was lovely to behold. The

blonde hair was only part of it. She was slender, wearing a sleeveless

white cotton dress doing nothing to conceal the soft plush tits

she thrust before her, now that she saw her master.

Her legs were generous in length, giving the illusion she was half

legs. Four inch high heels helped in this impression. Her naked

arms were smooth looking, clear skin. Her fingernails tipped her

fingers in a soft red.

Peters could make out her eyes. They were blue, but somehow lacked a

person behind them. She was mechanical in her motions, silky perhaps,

but he could make out a slight jerkiness to her movements. She had

high cheeks, a slender chiseled nose, and her lips were thin, but

moist, as if begging for kisses.

Peters looked at Jones, who appeared to be doing an inventory of his

pockets.  He looked back to watch the two in captivity.

"Oh Jimmy, I've longed for you!" Gabriella spoke. He saw her move

forward to about six feet in front of Jimmy and stop. She posed for

his appraisal.

"Jimmy? maybe you're forgetting something."

"My Lord!, oh I'm sorry My Lord, please forgive me." The girl's cheeks

were becoming damp.

"Well, just for that you better strip down for me."

"OH! thank you, thank you."

She reached both arms around back to pull down the zipper of her

dress. This made her boobs jut farther forward. Peters could make out

her nipples.

The gauges above the wall swung, shifting very fast. Peters knew the

spark was reinforcing his control over her. The telepathy suppression

fields would protect Peters though.

Jimmy immediately stood, reached out and pinched her nipples a bit

violently. She gasped loudly but kept her hands reaching to the

fastenings in the back.

Peters was frustrated by the wall between them. He would like to savor

giving the pain/pleasure she felt.  Take and enjoy her.  Peters's cock had

gotten hard. He pulled out a rag he'd brought and began to use it to


Her dressed was shrugged off of her shoulders, and only Jimmy's

abusing fingers held it against her bust now. She was struggling to

remain standing, enraptured by the touch, filled with delight.

Jimmy let the dress fall.

She wore no underwear at all. Her tits were tanned, from weeks of

sitting in the sun or under a sun lamp, no lines at all from a bathing

suit or bra.

The nipples stood out hard and pink from Jimmy's use. They were large

nipples, smaller but shaped not unlike nipples on an old style baby

bottle. Swollen, and raw from use, she was clearly thrilled at the


She stepped her feet over the dress and resumed a pose. Her ankles

turned just so, a series of pleasant little curves. Peters loved

their appearance.

Jimmy walked around her, tracing lines on her skin. He would stop and

hit her with his open palm on her bottom, stomach, tits, or legs from

time to time. As he went, the blows became harder, the sounds of the

slaps much louder.

Her tongue snaked out, possibly from joy, each time the stinging

smack resounded in the room. Red hand prints covered the visible

parts of her anatomy Jimmy had gotten to. Her panting was deeper with

each stroke she received.

"Good cunt." he said.

She beamed as the praise was understood. He sat her down at the edge

of the bed and took off his clothes. Her head drooped to her chest.

Gabriella was highly aroused, it was hard to miss it. The stinging

pain titilated her, bringing desire from her inner self. She was

trying to snaked her torso back and forth to grind her hips. She

rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder with her chin on her collar

bone. The moaning was only just audible.

Jimmy grabbed a fistfull of her hair. He pulled her head up and

forward into his crotch. The ripe red lips opened quickly and

engulfed his now rigid prick. She allowed him to control his rape of

her face, pulling and pushing her head with the handful of hair.

Peters could hear Jimmy's grunting as he forced himself further down

the girl's throat. A catch in the man's breath, a gasp, a wheeze

perhaps, and he pulled out, spraying the white fluid onto her face.

She gasped for breath. Choking and coughing her recovery. Dripping

liquid, at the tip of her nose.

She began to play with herself.  Jimmy was now completely unconcerned

about what she did. She lifted her legs up to place her ankles by her

head. Reaching a hand under and around one leg she supported her

back.  She played with her cunt with the other hand. Her arms and

shoulders were inside her knees.

She seemed to think it important she see exactly what she touched.

She was partly doubled up, shoving her fingers between the swollen

lips of her slit. Far more impressive than Jimmy's orgasm was the way

her muscles strained to bring about heightened response. Her face

contorted through a series of expressions, each an erotic step above

the previous one.

Peters was intent on her face now. Tears came from the corners of her

eyes, and one hot steamy 'yes' was followed by another. She was tight

with muscular exertion, and sweat was making her entire body glisten.

As she got closer to orgasm, she could no longer watch her fingers

rubbing the swollen bit of flesh between her legs. She rocked her head

back, muttering about needing to come. She kept advancing higher on

the sexual plain, without making it yet.

Jimmy sat up and smirked. He'd recovered from his treat, and was

watching her with greedy anticipation. As if he knew she was trapped

at the edge of her release.

"You wanna come cunt?"

"Oh Lord, I pray you let me come soon, I need it so badly. I've not

come in two days now, and you know my needs. God please, oh please

may I come?"

She continued to frantically masturbate. Her frenzied efforts were

putting her well into the ecstasy she sought. It was the final jolt

she seemed shy of.

"You may come now cunt." Jimmy almost blessed her. Peters could

imagine Jimmy making a cross motion to do so.

She leaned her head forward towards her slit again, as to watch. Then

suddenly she straightened out completely, screaming at the top of her


Peters could hear it through the glass. The speaker, perhaps the

microphones couldn't quite take it, had cut out until she finished.

They cut out several times over the next five minutes.

He came in the rag he was using.

Jimmy seemed pleased, starting to play with her nipples again,

squeezing them in his fists. She had an exhausted aftershock, face

wrenched into another expression of ecstasy.

Peters turned off the monitor. He marked the observation sheet up with

no real new remarks. He glanced at the couple in the other room as he


Jimmy was making the girl bow to the mirror, to Peters.


"Sit down please," Jones directed.

Bob relaxed in a chair in the middle of what seemed to be Jones's

office. The chair was perfectly situated in front of the desk Jones

sat at.

"There is one little detail we need to accomplish." said Jones.

"What's that?"

"There is a tiny matter of loyalty.  We need to know we can trust


Trust goes two ways, Bob thought, but if you wanted trust you never

would have approached my house the way you did. He didn't like

something about this discussion.

"And just how do you intend to find out?"

"Oh, we have a way of ensuring it." and punched a button on his desk.

A pressure drove at Bob's mind from above. Looking up he could now

see an opening above, with a small dish antennae pointing at him.

He was too busy with the symbols to get up from the chair.

The transmitter above was driving one symbol at him, and one symbol

alone, 'Obey'. It was a harsh, highly powered command he was loathe

to accept, especially here. The energy slammed at his skull blithely

shoving his cover persona aside. The bolt smacked into the shield he'd

developed, and pushed him back behind that same barrier.

There was no human source he to reach this time, unlike his

experience with Bambi. No one to shut off, no simple way to retain

his freedom. He was fighting a machine, with far more energy than he

could draw on.

He became quite frantic. Sweat seeped up through the roots of his

hair, and a few drops fell from his eyebrows. He felt his vision

become blurred. The beam was winning. Soon he would not be the same

person he was when he came in this room.

Instead of fighting the beam, he reasoned, perhaps he could draw on

it. He began to take some of the energy from the charged command and

build it into a cup like shield between him and it. This cut the

pressure sharply.

Some of the energy he pulled aside and looking at Jones, he saw

another use. He poured it into a probe to break through the mind

shield Jones wore.

A visible light show commenced in a ball shape around Jones, who

looked quite startled. Jones frantically pressed another button.  The

ball shape wasn't as round as Bob thought. He started to explore the

shield's actual limits. The thing was more donut shaped than the ball

shape he originally perceived. The shield collapsed in at the top and

bottom, leading towards the device behind Jones ears.

The abrupt discovery was of little use though. At that moment a pair

of men with pistols burst into the room. One had a hypodermic and

jabbed Bob.

Moments later there was a wild hue of red over Bob's vision and

everything faded to a gray haze.


The two women checked out their status. It was a few minutes before

one of them threw a sneaker, proving the barrier only fenced them

onto the bed.

The red head was also checking out the brunette.

"What's your name?" she asked, "I'm Heather."

"Jean. How long have the goons kept you locked up?"

"I've lost track. Must be about three or four months."

"They picked me up a year ago. They prod and poke at me, but I think

they're into some kind of psychological mumbo jumbo."

"You do the mind reading stuff?"

"Yes, you?"

"Sure thing. Your the first person I've met here without those brain

caps they wear. Well, the first they didn't pick up with me."

"Huh?" said Jean.

"Well, I had some girl friends they snatched too, because I, er,

influenced them."

"I haven't seen anyone other than jerks in white coats. Waitaminute,

no, I also had some guy try to make a pass at me, once in my 'cell'."

"Ha! Damn men think they know everything. I can see right through

them now, and they know it."

"Don't you like men?"

"Not really, I like pretty girls. Like you."

"Well you can just stay away from me. I don't like women, even though

I ain't too particular about men either."

The red head was now stroking Jean's hair gently. She was interested

enough, probably horny as all hell. Jean brushed her hand away


"Seriously. Leave me be."

The lesbian vixen was now concentrating very hard. Suddenly so was the

brunette shopper. There was a strong momentary intensity. Later, the

observer would learn the scanning apparatus used for this experiment

was registering enormous flares of activity.

It only lasted a few moments.

"You're so lovely, I could eat you right up," were the next words

Jean uttered.



There was a raging rock fall at the back of his head. Every time he

moved another boulder came down on the back of his skull.


Goddamn, that noise was really annoying. How the fuck did he get a

hangover? Then he remembered.

He was at the Institute.  It was obvious they wouldn't just let him

go. Bambi's escape had been a phony, so he had no reason to believe

getting away would be easy.

"hssst!" He pried open one of his eyes. There was a woman in the room

with him. She was trying to get his attention.

The room was some kind of hospital room. There were gurneys near by,

and damn if Bob wasn't tied to one. So he looked back at the woman,

realizing she was tied down too.

"do you know how the 'hunters' caught you?" she whispered. He tried

to reach out with a mind probe, only to catch another heavy boulder

at the back of his head.

Then he noticed the woman had some kind of wire netting over her

head. He probably had the same thing. A restraint for the rebellious

telepath. Groan. The mind shields were bad enough. They seemed to have

other measures at their disposal to control their pet telepaths.

"They came to my house," whispered back, "and invited me to buy a

condo here. I was dumb not to try getting away sooner."

"You seem familiar."

"I recognize you too. Where?"

"Hey, were you the guy warning me a while back?"

"Could be. I did warn.." but he trailed off as footsteps came their

way. He feigned sleep.

The gurney was being moved. He had to try again at escaping, but when?

His entire body felt sluggish and he was tied down to boot. What could

he do?


Jean reached over and caressed Heather's hair.

She'd changed from hardened resistance to active participation so

quickly, the observer hoped the cameras weren't having troubles.

They so often did.

Heather in turn began to touch Jean's face. The two women gazed

longingly at each other for long minutes. Then Heather leant forward,

planting a gentle, closed eyes, kiss on the lips of the other woman.

The kiss was as soft as a butterfly. Their tongues remained behind on

this first kiss. Heather was taking Jean. In a very real sense, she

had already taken her and was now making her. Jean's eyes were

slipping into ecstatic movements, taking in every inch of her new


The two moved together and began deeper, more passionate kisses. Their

tongues dueled for dominance between their teeth, their heads rotated

as they ground their faces.

After a lengthy, rolling, necking session, Heather began to feel

Jean's bottom. Visible now very clearly, her ass was a tight bundle of

flesh. There was a sudden series of movements as Heather yanked the

sweat pants clear of Jean's waist and ass.

The naked skin was smooth and pale. Neither woman had been in the sun

for some time. Heather could clearly make out the smoothness of the

soft derriere. At silky touch along the outer thighs brought a sigh of

joy from the brunette.

The red head moved her palm along the skin, sliding it around to the

exposed maidenhood.

"Oh yes!," came a gasp from Jean. A few moments of feeling up the wet

crotch, and the red head stopped.

"Undress for me darling." whispered Heather, who began to strip


Heather's pale body was quickly exposed to the light. Her brightly red

nipples on her firm knockers were large and erect. Her legs showed

their slender shapes, almost perfectly designed to be spread for

access to her cunt. The curve of her waistline was so supple, her own

hands traced along it in pleasant arousal.

Jean anxiously drew off her clothing, depositing the sweats where they

were within easy reach. Her breasts were large yet firm also with

smaller nipples than Heather's. Her tummy seemed very tight, pulling

in along the ribs above the diaphragm. The bushy pussy was an

irregular triangle in her crotch between her torso and her slightly

too long legs.

They dove back into each others arms, lips embracing wetly. Their

breasts rubbed together, nipples already erect, cushioning their

movements. The four legs curled about one another in a continual

struggle to pull the two groins tighter together.

After wrestling hotly for a length, Heather pulled back and began to

work her way down Jean's neck to her bosom. She sucked at the nipples

and nibbled lightly at the undersides of the breasts.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," became a constant stream from Jean. Her hips

were working in waves up from the bed. She worked up a good sweat

before Heather stopped.

Then Jean began to work on Heather. She chewed lightly on the neck of

the other woman, who craned about in response. The moaning from the

bed became substantial. She dropped along the shoulders, spending

little kisses of tenderness along the arm, then under. She spent a

brief moment suckling at the nipples of Heather's breast, then worked

her way down to the thin red-white hairs of the crotch.

Heather lifted her legs onto Jeans back. Jean slid her tongue into the

offered love hole. Her probing tongue fought into the vagina as far as

she could manage. She worked her right arm around Heather's hips to

bring her fingers to bear just past her nose, at the protruding clit.

Heather was bucking furiously. Her right hand plunged the forefinger

knuckles into her own mouth, clamping her teeth down tight. The left

was pinching and pulling madly at the nipple on her left tit.

Jean snaked the free left hand to Heather's other tit and began to

pinch the swollen red nipple between her fingers, using her thumb to

squeeze the whole tit gently.

Heather's hair tossled back and forth as her head wagged from side to


"Goddamn, Goddamn, suck me, suck me. YES! get that tongue deeper." she


The brunette strove to drive her tongue further in, possibly

succeeding in pushing her chin into part of the cleft. She made a

frenzied attempt to increase the stimulation to the clitoris, pinching

it with her forefinger and thumb.

"YES!" screamed Heather. The untamed orgasm came pouring out of her in

every possible tone she could make. Jean lapped up the juices leaking

from her cunt.

"YES!" screamed Heather. Comming a second time, hot on the heels of

the first. Her body slammed up against Jean and down against the bed.

"YES!" screamed Heather. Third time as wildly as the first, legs

straight in the air, hands clenched into angry red fists, arms bent

tightly across her chest.

"aaaaaahhhh," came a final notes moan from the sexually spent woman.

Jean sat up and looked carefully at Heather's face, radiant from post

orgasm buzz.

"Oh love, did you like that?"

"Yes. I always like it when a pretty woman eats me."

"I'm glad. It was so lovely to watch you, darling."

Heather struggled around to Jean's cunt and began to lick. Jean was

still hot, but needed arousal first. Heather, frustrated from the

exertion, compelled her by telepathic force to thorough arousal.

Jean began to react uncontrollably to any touch from Heather. Every

contact point had become an erogenous zone. Jean's body was going wild

with stimuli. She frantically heaved her hips and shook her head even

more madly than Heather had.

Heather shoved three fingers into Jean's dripping cunt. She worked

them around, violating her brutally. She fucked in and out with the

fingers, and quickly, Jean began to come.

Her hands clutched Heather's face into her cunt. Her legs clamped onto

the other woman's head.

"AAAIIIIIEEEEE!" she simply made a primal scream last the duration of

the orgasm. It seemed to last and last and last. When she shuddered to

a stop, she was dripping from sweat, panting madly and stroking, as

this had all begun, Heather's sweet hair.


The headache continued but he forced a tendril of thought free,

accepting pain to achieve a breakthrough. The slamming pain grew

inside his skull, but his determination was immense. His eyes lost

vision during the effort.

This time he traced with a thin probe around the edge of the donut

shaped shield.

Delight! Success! The shield was not completely covering the man

pushing him. Once in the nervous system pathways, he easily reached

inside the man's mind and took control.

All the while, his skull was rattling like a can of rocks, and his ears

screaming with associated pain. The first thing he did with his

converted follower, shut off the wire net shield.

Relief came as the pounding in his skull stopped. He could almost see

again. Yes, he thought, that was a door we just passed.

Bob had the man take the battery out of his mind shield. His thoughts

became much easier to read. Almost as lifted from behind a thin panel

of translucent glass.

He gave his escort an opportunity to stop for a cigarette. He hated

the smoke, but needed an excuse to have them pause. He wanted to

think, look for some means of complete escape.

There would be many more 'guards' around. He hadn't seen any easy way

out of the place yet.


The women on the bed were lying in each others arms. They whispered

sweet nothings to each other, like high school lovers.

The observer pressed a button cutting off any other watchers.

He walked over to the bed. Unzipping his pants, he dropped them beside

the bed. He climbed up behind the red head. He grabbed her ass and

rolled her onto her back.

She squealed with surprise.

"What is it?" yelped her new lover.

"I don't know!" she shouted back, "I just flipped over, I don't know


The man shoved his organ into her, slapping away her hands.

"What!" She felt something at her crotch, and she was unable to close

her legs. Her head flung itself back. She was startled again by the

fullness her cunt was experiencing.

"Yeah, oh yeah, you fucking bitch. You can take this. Take it all."

the man said. She heard nothing, feeling only a sudden arousal from

her crotch. He pumped away furiously, pinning her arms now above her

head. She couldn't resist, and her body began to betray her. Her arms

raised of their own accord above her head, remained in place against

her will.

She was certain she was pinned by an invisible force, and worried she

was being used by another telepath, the way she used women herself.

But her hips worked in motion, her breath had become excited.

Jean sat mystified to the side, wondering if Heather was having some

sort of fit, and just how to help the woman she loved. She enjoyed

seeing Heather's sexual excitement, Heather had changed her to like

it herself.

Heather worked her head hard against the insides of one arm, then the

other. A moment later she had reached a sudden unexpected height. She

orgasmed with silent desperate groans.

Jean squealed with delight, as she'd been adjusted to do, at Heather's

sexual release. She bent over Heather's face to kiss her for rewarding

her with the pleasant performance. She couldn't see the man either.

He could feel the cramped tightness of her vagina. It thrilled him

to know she not only couldn't stop him, but couldn't resist pleasure

during the rape.

He pounded madly, the heat rose within his balls. The pumping muscles

in his groin began to clutch to release the fluids. His penis felt the

flow in its entire length. He grunted with satisfaction at planting

his seed in the red furred slut.

He rolled from the woman, and slid off the bed.

He was pissed. The programming hadn't held well. She'd felt quite a

bit of the contact from him. This was not good, no, not good at all.

He tried to remember the name of the tech who did the work. There

would be punishment coming for the failure, however small it was.

Dressed again, he left the room.


The woman on the other gurney had been named Miki.

They sat in the hall they first met in. Three of the guards and the

original escort for Bob's gurney were sitting together, imagining a

continuous came of poker in the corner. No cards were in evidence, yet

they kept dealing out the imaginary deck, sometimes from the bottom.

He filled her in on his capture and discoveries regarding the

weakness of the shields. She was delighted to hear this news. But

seemed unable to take advantage of it the same way he was.

If she was to get out, she had to go with him. His probes kept

running into walls or screens like the net screen he'd taken off his

head. He tried probing around them to no avail. He kept getting raging

pains in his head.

They remained dependent on things he could learn from the captives.


Bambi and Randi woke together. Bob wasn't there.

By the time Betty woke, they'd found the note. Betty was compelled to

make breakfast. She'd come to serve everyone in the house.

After breakfast, Bambi had Betty eat her. She sat back while the long

haired woman sucked and licked her cunt.

"Mind if I use her next?" asked Randi.

"Ah, ah, sure, ah, thing, ah," muttered Bambi. Betty glowed inwardly

knowing she was loved.

There would be no problem waiting for Bob to return.


Part 8


The weather ruled the day. It had begun with hot steamy sunshine, but

by noon the rain came down in sheets. Just as Diane had resolved

herself to becoming soaked, the storm abated. Puffy clouds were soon

all that was left in the sky.

Diane was a reporter. She was a good reporter. She believed in the

fourth estate as a branch of government. She was one of those true

believers who thought everyone had a right to know everything,


Her beliefs caused her some problems.

The worst problem was working as an employee for any real News

outfit. The papers almost always had editorial policies she didn't

like. She'd gone from print to broadcast because she figured it would

be different. The reality of much harsher controls in the broadcast

media hit her hard.

So she worked pretty much freelance, kinda. Her job with the 11

O'clock News for the KUTE network was fairly nebulous. When she got

stories they liked, she got paid. Otherwise she was shit outa luck.

She got paid fairly regularly.

The story she was working on came from a strange tip. Some guy called

and said the Biltmor Rehabilitation Institute was committing

experiments on the inmates. Some kind of brain research. He chatted

with her long enough for her to find out he worked for the Institute.

She tried a few phone calls this morning. Every time she got through

to someone important enough to know anything, she was told the

Institute didn't grant interviews. After further research, she found

no record of the Institute in the state registries. No charter, no

license, no known clients, no credentials to support the lofty title.

Her sometimes boss, Mr. Magnum, managing editor, told her to go get

the dirt on them; he'd buy it. She smiled weakly at this, since there

was no way to get the dirt without sneaking in.

So here she was, soaking wet, hot, and uncomfortable. The damn place

was like an old style fortress. Two sides of the property were bounded

by river, a third side had a sizable swamp. The remaining side of the

property had a 20 foot wall along it, with superfluous closed circuit

TV atop.

She'd moored the boat in the swamp. Scratching her left leg, she

regretted not wearing jeans for this outing. She could feel every

inch of her exposed skin screaming for just a few moments of


Nothing deterred Diane. Her camera man was trailing behind her. Jorge

had never yet managed to keep up with her on a story. He'd make it

right beside her when it was time to shoot, but she always broke the

ground. This time in a more physical sense than usual.

Jorge was a pretty nice guy. She'd worked with him now for five years.

He'd never made a pass at her either. For camera men, that had to be a

world's record. She was pretty good looking, or she'd have a tougher

time in front of the camera. And all camera men tend, she believed, to

be on the make all the time. Except Jorge. Sometimes she wished he


Jorge was a true blessing for her career too. He had to read her mind

sometimes to catch the angles he got on film. She rarely had to edit

out enormous quantities of footage he'd taken. He almost always ran

the camera perfectly for her face shots, and never let her profile

look bad. Always, he managed to stop filming just as or before any

flubs she made. Nice to have a psychic camera man. She smiled at the


Jorge was immensely interested in this story too. For the first time

he'd volunteered to do some of the research leg work on a story she

was working. Odd for him, demanding every word the informant uttered

verbatim, hanging over her shoulder to hear what she'd learn.

A bird leapt into the air before her. She managed to avoid jumping or

screaming with surprise. Startled for Diane meant 'drop for cover'.

She remembered covering riots downtown in her first year as a

professional. The constant hazard taught her caution rather than

fear. It helped over the years.

The wood she was trying to sneak through silently was making every

effort to shout out her location. If it wasn't the damn birds, it was

twigs, if not twigs, it was scratchy underbrush. The moist earth

beneath her feet would sink away, leaving her 4-5 inches in the dirt,

almost sucking her sneakers off. The branches she chose to hold for

support gave way violently, shaking volumes of leaves above.

When she finally got to the open fields of the Institute, she was

relieved to escape the jungle like swamp. Jorge said nothing, just

waited her directions.

There were statues standing about on a manicured lawn. The water in

the fountains sparkling in the intermittent sunlight. Wait, those

weren't statues. They were all wearing white coats, white jump suits,

or white whatever.

Jorge pointed to a few rows of coniferous bushes in a line towards the

house. House?, mansion more like. The thing was four stories tall. The

triangular shapes above the top windows made the place look like the

setting for a gothic horror, except for the lack of gargoyles. Maybe

the frightful statuary would be there when she got closer.

They moved towards the bush line.


Bob and Miki lay hidden in the storage room all night. The frantic

sounds of search activity had force them to send the remaining captive

guards out to join in the hunt.

The room was only searched once, by a single guard, who was easily

convinced of its secure condition. Bob smiled, it hadn't been as

difficult as the first time to get through the thought shield.

Amazingly Bob felt very horny. Odd reaction to being so severely in


He remembered a car accident years ago. During the incident he'd only

thought about how it would ruin his afternoon. The time he'd been

mugged, well some guy tried anyway, all Bob had thought of then was

how he'd be getting home.

The amazing thing was, he could probably take Miki. She'd probably

never be able to stop him. He figured Bambi had the stronger will

power, or talent, or whatever. He stopped himself. There was a time

and place for screwing around. This wasn't one of them.

The search had moved on, they had probably concluded Bob and Miki

reached the outer grounds by now.

It was time to try again.


"uh, uh, uh, uh" sounds of carnal pleasure came from behind one of

the bushes.

Although amused, Diane wasn't the least bit interested in a humping

couple on the other side of the bush. She might've been, if she knew

one of the inmates was boffing away madly with one of the sex slaves

he was captured with.  Although how she would know is anyone's guess.

Curiosity overcame Jorge. He was also very amused, but kept it to

himself. He snuck a peek to see what the couple looked like.

While he was snooping, Diane got a bit ahead. She lost track of the

camera man. When she turned to ask his opinion on approaching the

building, he simply wasn't there.

Damn, she thought, first time he's ever done that. Maybe the couple in

the bushes was worth looking into for a minute or two. Jorge might

finally be showing some sexual interest. Naw, Jorge would catch up.

As she mused, a crackle of twigs directly behind her drew her


"My, my, my." A man with a pistol stood about four feet away. "Where

the hell did you come from lady?"

She realized she was a wreck. Her hair was matted from the drenching

rain, and mud of the swamp. The dress she wore was tattered and torn

from the underbrush. The guy couldn't help but know she was out of

place. Oh well, she had to try to baffle him.

"I took a walk and got lost."

"Not without an escort you wouldn't. You were in the swamp. Trying to

sneak in for something? A boyfriend maybe? You one of the sluts who

follow their men into this place, eh? Perhaps you..." THUNK!

The gunman dropped to the ground. Behind him stood Jorge, his almost

white blonde hair standing over her assailant with a stick. The

camera was missing, which made him look naked to Diane.

"God, I'm glad you caught up."

"Wouldn't want you to get hurt." he said.

Bending over Jorge picked up the nasty looking weapon. He turned it

over a few times. Then he handed it to her.

"Dart gun. Probably tranquilizers."

"Makes sense," she answered, "they wouldn't want to injure the

inmates, after all."

Jorge pointed to the camera propped up in one of the bushes. He walked

over and popped the small red button keeping it running.

"Great Jorge. You always manage to catch the angles for me." She blew

him a kiss. He ignored it. He never even flirted with her. It was just

as well, she guessed, but it might be nice once in a while.

Diane moved to the next opening in the bushes, peering ahead. Jorge

was turning over the gunman.

Diane missed the motion as Jorge pulled what looked like a hearing aid

from the man's right ear. Turning it in his hand, it popped open and

a small battery dropped out. He grinned and put the device, without

battery, back behind the man's ear. If anyone had been watching, Jorge

would have seemed to be examining the man's skull for permanent


For an additional moment Jorge intently examined the guard. Diane

thought he was terribly decent, being concerned that he'd hurt the man.

He hoisted the man to his shoulders and carried him closer to a pair

of closely grown bushes. With a little pushing and shoving the man

disappeared from the casual observer, for now.

Diane looked approvingly at Jorge's work, flagging him to hurry up.


Jones was uncomfortable. He all about Tyler. He figured the same

treatment could soon be his. He made a conscious decision to try not

to sweat. It wasn't working very well.

"Astounding, Mr. Jones. Simply astounding."

"Yes sir."

"There must have been a problem with the drug. Who was last to see


"One of five lab techs sir. We don't know which one. The log sheet for

moving the subject from the tie down room to the sampling lab is


"I see."

The pause dragged for a few minutes. The man in the large leather

chair turned away. Jones stood perfectly still, hoping for salvation

by being overlooked.

"This was a bad day for this Jones. We have guests coming, you know."

"I know sir."

"Important guests."

"Yes sir."

Another pause left Jones worrying about this compounding aspect. How

would it affect him?

"Jones, I want all the lab techs who could've been there locked up."


"Any one of them could be a time bomb. If the spark is free, he may

have done something to their minds. Ah, his mind, the tech who let

him loose. You said he was smart. That makes him dangerous, in ways

beyond what we usually see. He's not just another lunatic with ESP."

"I will see to it, sir."

"Go. Report back when they find him. Oh, and the new girl, I want her

brought up to the lab to see what affect he's had."

"On my way."

He turned and started towards the door.

"And Jones, don't screw this up. Tyler really didn't please Jezabel."

A series of chills went down Jones's back. He stepped up his speed to

perform for his master.


The Fates didn't seem to like Bob any more.

Although the search moved outside, there were plenty of the guard

type goons in the halls. It was annoying. Working around the mind

shields was difficult, and took time. Enough time for someone to

react and just shoot.

He didn't want a drugged dart stuck in his fanny. It didn't appeal to

him. Not to mention all the other unpleasant possibilities afterwards.

Miki assumed the role of fairy tale princess. A quiet 'rescue me

please' princess. He didn't mind. The arguments over who was in charge

never occurred. She just tagged right behind him.

There were a small group of goons coming from around the corner. At

least he assumed they were, there were seven or eight mind shields he

could count.

Trying the door next to them, he led Miki into a dark room.

His ear to the door, it sounded as though the group was about to come

in here. Looking about he saw there was a very large round wooden

platform, and sections of room with hanging curtains partially

concealing a dozen or more chairs.

He led Miki behind one of the curtains, hid himself behind another.


There were several guests. Some from as far away as China.

Today the Institute was showing product to potential clients. Each

one had brought an unsuspecting secretary or party official for the


A man with Italian leather shoes bade them enter the theater chamber.

There were a few stragglers, yes, ten in all entered the room for the

pitch. He turned on the light over the platform, and climbed up to

stand stand dramatically above.

"Gentlemen, take seats, I beg of you. We will begin sooner if you are


In the light it became clear this man carried himself with an

aristocratic bearing. He was unconcerned with anyone else present,

except in that they represented income. His suit, a perfectly cut,

hand tailored charcoal gray pin stripe, accented his authority well.

Hands behind his back, standing as though at parade rest for a

soldier he began to speak.

"I am Mr. Thadeous. I am the Institute."

"What you are here for today is a look at a new method we've developed

for brainwashing. We can use it to get information from anyone, no

matter how well trained. We can use it to ensure loyalty to you, no

matter how bad the subjects prior record. We can control anyone for

you, for a fee.

"The price will depend on your needs. All we need is for the

individual to be improved, yes improved, brought here for the


"Mr. Thadeous, we are willing to bid on the process itself. How much

for the process?" came from an individual with a brown suit on.

"It's not for sale, Mr. Vinocelli. Not at any price. But, we can sell

your organization the kind of protection you've only dreamed of.

Croupiers and dealers with scrupulous attention to your profits.

Girls who will not quake at any request, and charge accordingly. But

the process is our property."

"I take it you will not make this product available exclusively?" Came

from a woman with jet black hair, wearing an old style veiled bonnet.

"Mrs., um, Leclair, We are in this for the profit. We'd be at odds

with too many organizations cut out of the loop, if they couldn't get

the product we offer. At the same time, we expect our customers to

respect our proprietary interests. Since it will serve you as well."

"If it works you mean."

"Which brings us to the purpose of this little demonstration. Mrs.

Leclair, We've taken your, volunteer along with all the others, and

performed the process. We asked you to bring the volunteers simply to

show how quickly this process works."

He looked at his watch.

"Barely fifteen minutes have passed since they went to the labs.

Since you questioned our veracity about the 'product', you may want

to examine them yourself.

"This is not hypnosis, although it may resemble it. Nor are we using

drugs. We directly altered their minds with a device we developed

here for the purpose."

A lab tech led six people into the room. They each carried a folding

chair onto the platform. The tech unfolded each chair and sat the

'volunteers' one at a time.

"Now, you should be aware the subjects can neither hear nor see us.

Nor can they feel anything we do."

He slapped one subject. Happily, this time there was no physical

reaction to his action. He'd worried about that since taking Heather.


Bob was amazed. There was a real conspiracy underway. Not something

simple like his own, to enjoy his new found sex life, comfortable in

his life style.

This was a power play of far more insidious proportions.

Bob reached out to sense the six placid individuals on the platform.

All of them bore overwhelming changes from a machine. One like the one

they tried to use on him.

It hit him like a bolt from the blue. Their machines produced none of

the subtle manipulation that modified Bambi. Her changes and controls

were subtle enough to be very difficult to remove completely.

Who adjusted Bambi when she'd been 'programmed' and set loose?

Thadeous was still speaking about the advantages of improved

employees, agents, and even ex-enemies. Bob looked at the man, seeing

no hearing aid like device. He could clearly see both ears, and

neither bore any evidence of a mind shield.

And Bob had just probed the 'volunteers'!

The guest's volunteers were babbling continuously. All kinds of

embarrassing details. Things the Institute would know nothing about.

Yet legally questionable, and obviously secret. Including personal

plans to assassinate their superiors, dealings with other agencies, and

other common human schemings.

But in general, not really harmful to the guests either.

"Stop." Thadeous said.

The men and women on the stage instantly ceased speaking.

"You can count on business with us," one man muttered. He was carrying a

large briefcase and fit no more than a non-descript image. His accent

placed him from the deep south. Bob could imagine any of a number of

incredibly fascist organizations he might represent.

"I'm sold too," the lady named Leclair chimed in. Bob figured there

were at least three organized crime syndicates, one south american

country, a major international corporation, and a terrorist group

represented here. They would all be very unhappy if he escaped.

On the other hand, what could he do about them?

In only a few short moments the entire audience agreed to do business

with the Institute. There were no dissenters, this wasn't a bidding

session. Price would be discussed elsewhere, somewhere more


Thadeous signalled the tech to remove the volunteers, and led the

guests from the room.

Bob didn't know whether to panic or breath a sigh of relief.


Damn him, thought Diane. She'd been separated from Jorge again.

She managed to break a pane of glass, reaching through to open the

window. She stepped through, looking for all the world like an

inexperienced cat-burglar.

There was a red headed woman in the room. She was about 5'7" with a

reasonably well shaped figure. Her green eyes turned in surprise on

Diane. The woman was dressed in a hospital green gown, with no shoes,

stockings, or other acouterment. She'd been brushing her hair.

She was very pretty, thought Diane. Her full red lips were incredibly

moist and well shaped. Diane stepped forward, reaching for the woman's


"Hello pretty," came a sweet cotton candy voice, melting in her ears.

She could listen to that voice for hours, she was certain. Just

looking at this woman made her realize how long she had gone without


The red head was so voluptuous, so incredibly tasty to watch. Diane

could never leave her new love, she was so perfect. She devoured

the woman with her eyes for only a moment, though.

Then she plunged her tongue into the other woman's mouth, savoring

the delectable flavor of sexual passion burning there.

She could feel a hand reaching around to undo her dress. She assisted,

shrugging off the ragged clothe. Her body exposed, suddenly her matted

hair worried her. Would the red head dislike her because of her

poor appearance?

No, the white hands were gently rubbing her breasts, sending bolts of

pleasure throughout her body.

She threw herself into the pleasant haze of sex, giving herself to

this mysterious woman.


Bob and Miki, slipped into the hallway again. Almost right on the

tail of the demonstration party.

But Bob simply took them across the hall and through the door there,

which was ajar. He shoved her to the side of the door, looking about

this new room quickly.

He saw no one in the new room, but he heard the sound of running

feet. About a dozen men dashed into the room with the stage. Bob left

the door as it was and looked about. He scanned about for a good

hiding place.

He couldn't find one.

A guard opened the door that wasn't latched and looked around in the

room. There was nothing unusual. The place looked just fine. No one in


"Not this room." the guard announced to his unseen buddies behind. He

pulled the door closed and latched the outside deadbolt.

Bob breathed again. If any more than one guard had looked in here,

they'd have found the fugitives. One he could get a control on, two he

wasn't ready to try.

Miki nuzzled up against Bob.

It looked like they were stuck again for a while. Bob might not need

to do anything to Miki to have some fun. They could kill an hour or

two here until the search moved back outside again.


Jorge had lost Diane.

He was confused. He'd always been able to find her again if she zipped

out of sight too fast before.

He set the camera down. He didn't want to hurt Diane's feelings, but

there would be no News story from their little jaunt. He opened the

casing where the film was and pulled out a metal foil packet of some


Unwrapping the foil carefully, he removed a small red object, about

the size of a coin. He refolded the foil and replaced it in the camera


The coin sized object was a red, almost amber like substance. On one

side was a man's profile with a superimposed triangle. On the other a

stylized lightning bolt.

He removed his watch and slid the coin into a slot designed to hold

the coin against his skin. The back of the coin seemed to fit the

pattern of the watch, or was it the other way around. In any case, the

coin appeared to be part of the watch now.

He strapped the watch back on, without looking at the time at all.

The camera was now tucked out of sight, behind a planter in the

garden. He examined the leaves he'd covered it with and finally

pronounced to himself the adequacy of his work.

He began to look for ways into the building.


Bob pulled Miki to him.

She came much more willingly than he'd expected. Well, here they were

in the middle of a nest of vipers, or some kind of really bad guys,

and they were hiding out, snuggling, getting fuzzy together.

He could understand himself. He needed an escape from the surrounding

reality while they hid, but her?

He tried to probe her mind.


{Hi yourself} whispered the voice in his head. {Do you think we can

safely kill an hour or two rubbing our bodies together for warmth?}

{Maybe, does that appeal to you right now? aren't you scared?}

{Yup, but I'm having this urge to screw. It gets worse every time we

find a relatively safe hiding place.}

He thought about it and wondered if she was picking up his horniness

without knowing it. Seepage of his thoughts worried him, a little. He

looked inward to see if he was losing control.

He found nothing, so he slipped as subtle and covert a probe as

possible into her mind. She was horny too. But he uncovered a thin,

almost invisible trace of control. Examining it closely, he saw it was

his own. Unconsciously, to his surprise, he had taken her. She was

his, and nothing she could do would change the fact.

He let their lips meet. A moment later their tongues introduced

themselves. It should be a peaceful break from being chased about the


He needed the break.


The door had been left open.

Several doors had been left open. Jorge was bemused at the guards

running hither and yon, searching for someone. Some strange event

was happening here.

He acquired a lab coat from a surprised, and now unconscious,

technician of some sort. With a clipboard and a pocket full of pens,

everyone seemed to accept him without any trouble. Also, the little

false hearing aid gizmo behind his right ear leant an air of

authenticity. His almost white hair didn't seem to bother anyone.

Trying to find something, anything, leading to Diane's whereabouts was

tedious work. If he intruded in the wrong place, someone would know he

wasn't one of 'them'.

He felt the pounding of running feet through the soles of his shoes.

After agonizing whether to bluff, or hide, he chose the later action.

A door to his left popped open quickly, permitting entry to a nicely

furnished private room. Very much like the sanatorium you might expect

if you were a visitor.

He closed the door behind, listening for the running feet to pass.

The room had a single window, with plush red curtains. The walls were

done in a style of wallpaper you often find in old houses, faded

beyond recognition. There was a dresser with a small mirror above, a

chair and a bed.

He saw a woman, in her early 30s, sitting on the bed.


When Jorge was fifteen, he still lived as a native of Denmark.

They'd lived near Skagen, at the northern tip of the country. He'd

played quite a bit in the caves his father told him about along the

cold Kattegat.

The caves, according to his father, had been used to hide Jews from

the evil men who corrupted the soul of the German people and brought

the invading armies into Denmark.

That was over long before Jorge first climbed into the caves. Yet he

knew intimately how the Underground developed cocaine laced

handkerchiefs to deaden the noses of the dogs used to search. And he

warmed with pride when he thought of King Christian wearing the Star

of David rather than allow his people, however few, to fall to the

devil marching with the German armies.

Jorge often came to see where his father had played so important a

role in saving so many people. Where the fishing boat had left for

Marstrand or Lysekil in Sweden, a long and grueling voyage. Dangerous

because the Kat was pretty brutal on occasion.

Sometimes he would sit for hours on the rocks inside, watching the

tide grow into the mouth of the caves. The sea beckoned to him,

calling for him to travel. But he sat and thought of Edda, three years

older than himself, and his travel lust waned.

She was lovely. Her waist length braid of blonde hair accented the

sway of her hips. Her eyes glistened with joy when she spoke, and

every movement of her hands was accompanied with a happy carefree


He wanted to tell her of his love, but he was dreadfully frightened.

After all, he was only a child, although he felt he was a man.

One day in the caves, escaping his frustrated tongue tied desire,

he stumbled across it.

A locket, an old remnant from one of the refugees of war. No, maybe

not, the chain was embedded in the dirt and rock. In the rock above

were several strange runes he'd never before seen. With his lamp

shining directly on the runes, he almost thought he could read them.

After struggling to make out the meaning for a time, he pulled at the

locket and the chain snapped. The locket came free with what pieces of

chain remained attached.

He could not open the jewelry in the cave, so he shoved it in his

pocket and fled for home.

On the way he found Edda walking in the sunshine, having been off on a

picnic. She was beautiful, wearing an old traditional style dress and

white blouse, embroidered in colorful red, yellow and blue.

"Hello Edda."

"Why hello little Jorge."

He burned red with fury. She should see him as a man!, as her man! He

was unsure enough he thought of turning to leave. Being called 'little

Jorge' was not what he wanted to hear from her.

In some strange way, all this interesting thinking came out in runes

similar to the ones on the walls of the cave.

"Oh Jorge, where have you been? You're shoes are wet!"

"I went to the caves. They're peaceful. It gives me a chance to sit

and think."

"Do you think you could take me there?"

"Sure, when do you want to go?"

She looked over her shoulder at the friends she'd been out with. They

waved at her.

"Let's go now," she decided.

In a cul-de-sac hollow near the caves they stopped together and

listened to the rolling of the sea. She was silent, almost

reflective. He admired the roundness of her chin, the pink high

points of her cheeks, and the smile she had shown him on their walk.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," she said.

"I've been exploring the caves."

"I like seeing you Jorge."

Not little Jorge, but simply 'Jorge'. He wondered about her out of the

ordinary behavior.

She leaned into him, putting her head on his shoulders. His

uncertainty was growing. He enjoyed the presence of the soft golden

hair against his cheek. His arm wrapped about her shoulders, holding

her close.

The birds of the sea made their skreeing sounds.

Edda lifted her head, eyes closed, slightly puckering her lips for a

kiss. He breathed out slowly, and joined his lips to hers. A moment

later he found himself surprised again as the laughing pink tongue she

had embarrassed him with verbally, was exploring his mouth.

Her right hand found its way to his leg, and crept up to his crotch,

feeling his manhood right through the fabric of his American jeans.

The cock under her hand swelled immediately.

After she'd rubbed his cock through the jeans for a time, she gathered

his left hand in her right. Pulling gently, she led the hand over her

breast. He could feel the softness of the fleshy mound, and the lines

of her bra. He also felt a hard little bump at the peak. She gasped in

air as he played his fingers across the hard little bump.

Her hand worked his pecker through the cloth, and soon he had spilt

out his sperm inside his pants. He was embarrassed, she seemed


"What are we doing?" he asked. His release had relaxed his concern a


"Making sure you know I love you," came the reply.

Her smile quickly perked up. She shucked off her blouse and bra,

exposing for him the enticing redish brown nipples of her somewhat

generous bosom.

She took off the bright red skirt and lay it down in the soft grasses.

Then she set to work undressing him. She worked her soft red lips over

his naked skin as she revealed any more than an inch or two of it. Her

tongue danced along the recesses of his crotch, staying for now, away

from his prick.

Soon her fingers, with their unadorned but almost perfect nails,

caressed the folds of his balls and phallus. Still, he remained soft

until her lips came to the flacid penis, sucking in past her teeth the

head, working the tip of her tongue into the opening at the end.

His organ rose, stiffening with each glorious plunge she made towards

his torso. Soon it had achieved a rigid hardness he couldn't recall

ever attaining before.

Edda stradled his body with her legs, lowering the fur covered

triangular patch of her groin towards his prick.

"Ohhh, yess!" she muttered as the organ entered the cavity she had

proffered. Her head rolled down, chin on her chest. Her arms she

placed on his chest to support her body, which now began to rise and

fall along the length of his cock.

She was moist inside, he thought, and so deliciously warm. His length

was plunging in and out as his own hips tried to pump deeper into the

tunnel above. He watched with interest as the two breasts waved up and

down. The nipples were forming oval shapes in opposite directions as

she concentrated more and more on the pleasure she was receiving.

"uh, oh, god," she mumbled over and over. The blonde braid waved like

a whip as her head spun first one direction, then the other. The

breathing was deeper, the panting continuous as she went into


"OH! YES!" she cried out. He thought the entire town nearby could

hear her voice. She bucked out, thrusting her glorious chest forward

above his head, then she bucked back, forcing him deeply within her

while tucking her head down again. She did this four or five times.

As she screamed out her happy release, he felt the muscles in his

groin tighten, it felt so good to feel the rapid flow of semen up

through his groin and out the tip of his penis. He knew she'd given

herself over to him completely now. The pounding of his heart was a

reminder of how strong the orgasm had been.

She sank down across his body, joining her mouth to his in a lengthy

sloppy kiss.

Later, as they nestled together, she asked him what they'd name the

baby. This jolted him out of the reverie he was in.

Fortunately no baby came. He was able to convince her without to much

trouble how bad it would be to have children before they were ready.

Soon, she was on the pill.

They played at sex for a few more hours before returning home.

The next time, they used a bedroom in his parent's house when they

were away. He entered her and they remained physically joined for

hours, even after his organ shriveled down to a flacid lump of flesh.

They performed every conceivable method of reaching orgasm. He was

amazed how much Edda knew. When she offered him her ass he was shocked

at first, then intrigued. The tightness was an exciting experience,

which he would always relish.

Over the next four years they could rarely be found separately. There

were so many ways she would let him take her, so many places.

It was a bit of a scandal, an older girl chasing after a teenager.

But they had some great fun together, even after he realized it was

the secret symbols of the runes giving her to him. Not some secret

longing for him she might have had.

The runes gave him the power to make her come too. Her orgasms became

so dramatic and powerful under his control, she frequently couldn't be

roused for an hour or two afterwards.

Her body was completely his property, her mind a part of the deal.

For quite some time, anything he said went. He took her to parties,

sometimes screwing her in front of total strangers, forcing an orgasm

from her when she was too nervous to believe it possible.

In time he came to understand he didn't really want her. Not if she

was completely under his control. He found he could control almost

anyone. Every attractive girl in town was his at one time or another.

Edda even watched out for interlopers on a few occasions.

He gave Edda the freedom of not wanting him anymore. They drifted

slowly, but amiably apart.

There was an absence for a long time in his life, a hole, some missing

piece of him. He began to travel. With his unique ability to see into

and control even a stranger's mind, he could go anywhere, do almost

anything he wanted.

There were new worlds to explore, new adventures. Every day contained

an interesting exploration, and new romances he could tailor to suit

his immediate desires. Married or single, no woman could resist his

talent. None denied him access to their sex.

He rapidly lost count of the number of women he'd had. But he really

hadn't lost any interest in sex.

Until he was much older than fifteen, anyway.


The woman on the bed was Edda. No, not really, but similar enough to

be a twin.

There was the long golden hair in a braid, down to her waist. Her eyes

sparkled with the same happy fire. Her fingers moved with the a

skillful grace as her hand covered her open and surprised lips.

He could feel her thought tendrils trying to grab him. She was trying

to make him see how important it was to free her. But she couldn't

see, couldn't know. Her best chance for escape was not from

controlling him.

She was startled again. Her probe for control was thrust aside like so

many spiderwebs, a fragile gossamer set of threads.

He explored her mind with the far more practiced skill he brought with


She was unhappy. The strange men in their lab coats had spent the

first few days of her stay poking and prodding, taking blood samples,

and a battery of physical exams. She'd been kidnapped bodily from the

middle of the grocery store.

When they got her here they kept asking her about how she'd learned to

read minds. She knew they'd used drugs, but she had no idea what kind.

Only, now and then they gave her something to make her feel good.

She was told they found her because of all the poor folk she'd helped.

She helped some homeless people recover from bizarre little problems.

She couldn't know the homeless people she'd been helping were

considered hopeless but functional cases. Released because of the lack

of room and probability they'd never change. They started turning up

recovered, started finding jobs, living more happy, content lives.

The Institute began looking for the common factor. The common factor,

one fairly ordinary housewife with a penchant for being present at the

time they began to recover.

Every day they'd tried to coerce her to reveal something about how her

talent worked. Every day she tried to tell them, but couldn't. Every

day was the same, trapped here in this comfortable prison.

They hadn't come today, but now this nice almost white haired, bronze

hued man was here, and he didn't have one of those nasty noise makers

to keep her out of his mind. But...

He made her sleep.


Jorge came to New York to see the City. He was excited to find a new

pool of resources for his fun.

He'd spotted a short but well stacked woman on sixth avenue. Her face

was fairly ordinary, but the legs and her shape, oh my.

As he was following her uptown along Sixth Avenue, strange the way

New Yorkers referred to north as uptown and south as downtown, a

strange thing happened.

Some crazy driver turned his white mustang south onto Sixth. He was

zipping along too, in heavy traffic. All, of course, going uptown but

him. For the first two blocks he weaved in and out of the oncoming

vehicles, but then he bumped up the curb onto the sidewalk.

The next two blocks the car was on the sidewalk.

Jorge and the woman he'd been following were walking in that last two

blocks. He managed to pull her aside, watching two interesting events

springing from the silly stunt with the car.

First was the cop on the sidewalk trying to stop the car by his

physical presence. Astonishingly, he'd tried to impose himself in the

path of the oncoming vehicle. At the last moment he seemed to decide

it wasn't worth his life to try ticketing the determined kid behind

the wheel. He dove aside.

Second was the passengers in the car, except for one of them the four

kids along for the ride were having a great time. One of them in the

back seat looked for all the world as thought the world was after him

specifically. He had the frightened look of someone in the paranoid

stages of pot.

The cop was face down, and looked angry. The car had turned at the end

of the sidewalk, going the right way now on the street it had found.

Jorge smiled. These things seemed to happen more often in New York.

He took the woman to her home.

She rewarded his heroism at assisting her avoid the little event of

insanity in her otherwise normal world, by offering him coffee. He

decided the coffee wasn't enough.

Alicia, her name, started dancing for him, taking off her clothing,

one button at a time. She was small and wiry. But her tits were large

for her figure. The clothing dropped one by one, into a neat pile

beside her.

His cock plunged into her tuft of hair and flesh in her groin, and he

felt a relief at the normalcy involved with this violation of her

body. He enjoyed the power he had over her, making her orgasm several

times while he rode her.

He could feel, as often before, the tightening muscles of cunt, trying

to grip him tightly. But not as tightly as he'd like tonight. So he

rolled her over, and took her other hole. She screamed at first about

not doing it, about how disgusting he was being, and how it would


But as he knew, it took but a few moments to change her mind, and soon

she enjoyed it too.

After he finished his own pleasure, filling her with his semen, he

changed her to become sexually desperate for his attention. Then he

enjoyed having her do things for him. Like make dinner in the nude,

sit at his feet, sucking his cock while he watched a Kolchak the

Night Stalker movie on channel 9.

He gave her orgasms as she walked about, cleaning up dinner, and even

just changing the channels on the TV. If he took it into his head to

do so, he simply forced another jolt of sexual release through her

body. It was fun to watch as she stood naked before the front window,

knowing anyone could see.

He loved watching her total helplessness, listening to her beg him to

give her a break, then beg for the spasmotic orgasm she could feel


About the time he got dressed again, a key opened the front door. In

walked a man, in jeans and sneakers, wearing a turtleneck sweater.

For a moment they stared at each other. They stared because they'd

both made a cursory attempt to spin a web of control over each other.

The man looked at Alisia, who was presently on the floor of the living

room, jolting through another rending and frantic coming. Her body was

thrashing about with the pleasure, and her sweat was pouring out as

she moved.

"I see you've had Alisia."

"Yes, but women are easy targets. I had no idea anyone else had the


"There are a number of us here in the States."


"We do have something of a working group. There's a long history of

our, er, cooperative." Alisia finished her pummelling orgasm and looked

at the two men with a certain anxiety.

"Why don't you go get dressed slut," said Jorge. She hurried off to do

his bidding.

"Yes, well I'm not too upset about you using my slave, but in the

future, it would be well to check for influences other than your own.

At least if you want to stay in America."

"I can agree to that. There's plenty of women available here."

"One more little thing. Watch out for other people with the Voice.

Not all of them are tolerant of strangers."

"Might have guessed, in fact I would think it was the norm." Jorge

said. Jorge started towards the door.

"We should talk about the Cabal before you go."

"Cabal? What is the 'Cabal'?"

"A group of telepaths who have banded together. We mostly try to

ensure that telepaths keep their fingers out of politics. The last

time we failed to catch someone manipulating the economic and

political arena in this country was in the '50s."

"Why should any telepath care?"

"Visibility could bring on a witch hunt. None of us want some morons

trying to mob us, or worse, ending up in a lab somewhere, being

dissected for science."

"I hadn't thought the possibility significant."

The other man laughed aloud. Alisia came back, dressed in a sexy tight

black evening gown. Her makeup had been refreshed, and she just about

leeched onto Jorge's side. He was somewhat embarrassed, being caught

sampling another man's woman like a thief.

"He wants me back, love. Don't let him take me," Alisia begged of


"Don't worry, I can fix her, or if you want you can just keep her,"

the stranger said.

"No, you keep her, she served her purpose." replied Jorge. She

shuddered, thinking how much of a slave she'd become.

"You think about the Cabal," he handed Jorge a card. "If you're

interested, give this number a call. If not, be warned to stay out of

trouble. We won't tolerate anyone threatening our safety."

Jorge left, peeling the slave he'd possessed from his side. She became

fearful, perhaps panicky as she was handed over to the other man. She

calmed quickly though in the man's arms. The door shut smoothly

behind him. Soon she would never want to leave the man Jorge had

spoken with. She had no Voice, and that made her no more than

property to them.

A week later he called the number.


Jorge tried to open the door to the hall again. No luck, it was now


He went to the window, but dozens of guards were working the grounds,

in some cases beating the bushes. He chuckled to himself, wondering if

they'd found his earlier handiwork.

Looking around, he realized the room was sealed tightly. The air vents

were far to small for even a cat to slip out, unlike nearly every

movie he'd ever seen. This didn't stymie him immediately.

He began a systematic search of the room for a tool to pry the door

open. He move the Edda look alike aside and took the bed apart. Using

a bar of metal formerly a support in the bed, he began attacking the


He noticed his head was getting a bit fuzzy. When he looked around,

he realized how easily they could gas the room. There must be

microphones in here somewhere. He was not free. Too late now. It's


He was sleeping.


Bob finished sharing his pleasure with Miki some time before.

He made a decision, that for Bob, was quite courageous. This

establishment had to be dismantled to ensure his safety. Every record

they had about him would be destroyed before he left. He wasn't going

to be a hunted animal for the rest of his life.

He developed resolve sitting there in their hiding place.


Part 9


Jorge had been a member of the Cabal for three months when he started 

to see changes in himself. 

At first the thought crossed his mind another Cabal member had been

meddling in his mind. He dropped the idea when he realized the

thought wouldn't have struck him if it was true. 

He kept asking many questions about the Cabal. Nothing about where

they'd come from, but what they did. He got some pretty boring

answers back from his contact.

Mostly, the Cabal did nothing.

One day a summons came. The Cabal invited him, perhaps ordered him,

to attend a meeting. It would be in the Catskills in New York at a

one time hunting lodge. He was expected to attend.

He felt like a gangster. 

Pine trees surrounded the lodge. It was an old building from the time 

of Prohibition. Seeing all the limos and the uniformed drivers made 

him feel even more as though he was at a gangster meet. He must've 

been the only one to show up without limo or driver. 

There were guards too. Only those who could control minds could get

in. Anyone else would be turned back.

There were only a dozen or so people present. The man he'd met in New

York was absent. A third were women. He hadn't expected any women at

all. Preconceptions about the demographics of the mind control

talented hadn't led him to believe there would be any women at all.

There was one notable man, standing out from the rest.

The man was in a gray pair of slacks and a brown sports jacket,

patched at the elbows. His eyes sunken, as though he didn't sleep,

hidden behind wire rimmed glasses, and his hair a tossled gray-black.

Cleanshaven, the fellow carried himself as though this was simply an

entertaining exercise. He spoke to no one, and there was a

conspicuous area around him no one else walked into. 

Jorge got a drink, gin and tonic, and walked towards the unusual 

member. He didn't make it before a thin, wispish man, with an 

unidentifiable accent announced everyone was present. The meeting 

would begin immediately in the next room.


The room was a sunken amphitheater. Seating was on carpeted tiers

with a space in the middle for speakers. The wispish guy was

standing there, waiting for everyone to settle in. Behind him was an

exit, an open door with curtains to the side.

"It's been a year since our last meeting. While there are no real 

changes to announce..."

"There never is." A woman in red, holding a tall glass of something 

white was the source of this interjection. The wispish fellow stared 

in rebuke for a moment, then continued.

"We need to reaffirm the leadership positions. And there is one 

piece of new business."

He turned towards Jorge. Everyone looked his direction. The tall Dane

felt self conscious for the first time since acquiring the talent.

The feeling was somewhat foreign to him now, yet he knew he was on

the spot.

"Mr. Dansen is a new member. Unlike most new Voices, he is curious

about us, rather than fearful, the preferred response." A light 

chuckle passed through the gathered men and women.

"The Inquisitor," with this, the man nodded at the fellow in the brown

sports jacket, "requested he be invited. Any new blood we get willing

to participate in our activities is worth investigating. Please step

down here Mr. Dansen."

Jorge summoned his own reserves and stepped out where everyone could

see him. The looks he got were curious, but not interested in him.

They seemed concerned about whether he was a threat. He could sense

mind probes being aborted, it wasn't considered proper to probe

another member.

The man identified as Inquisitor also stepped down to the middle

joining the master of ceremonies and Jorge.

"Unless someone thinks we need to replace the Inquisitor...?," a

paused followed. "Fine," he lowered his voice. "Jorge, please go with

the Inquisitor. We're just curious because you've asked so many

questions. Everything will be fine. Just get along now.

"Okay, other business. Anyone want the job of High Senate Speaker?

Speak up, I've been doing this too long already..."

There was laughter as Jorge was drawn away by the Inquisitor. The

sounds of a beginning debate were murmurs of discussion, not the

heated rancor he was accustomed to from small political bodies.

Jorge found himself led out the nearby door. The curtains were drawn 

behind, then the door closed. The spectacled gentleman led him to a 

room with a pool table, soft red velvet chairs all around.

"Rack 'em. We may as well play as we speak. Eight ball." The man took

his jacket off, setting it carefully across one of the chairs. "I'm

Charles. I have the responsibility of policing for the Cabal."

"Am I in some kind of trouble?," asked Jorge. He looked about for 

another exit, but ended up finding the rack and a cue stick. The balls

fit neatly into the rack.

"No, nothing like that. But we rarely get new members who are

interested in what goes on in the Cabal. Our real purpose is to

minimize the threat a rogue Voice may represent." He broke, balls

rolling slowly to a halt around the table.

"Rogue voice?" Jorge sank a solid, tried to line up another shot only 

to have the cue ball drop.

"Some idiot who draws attention to the rest of us."

"Is this a frequent threat?" 

"No, since the rogue is likely to be poorly practiced, and real 

obvious about how he makes trouble. We even know there are a lot of 

Voices out there we can't find, simply because they just don't have 

the ambition to make the kind of waves we worry about. We don't care 

about them." Charles stood, holding the cue ball as though it might 

escape too.

"You worried about me though?"

"Nope. You've been at it a while from what I understand. No. In your 

case, I'm recruiting."

Jorge looked at Charles, seeking deceit. He dared not probe, no

telling what could happen. He stepped back and lowered his head,

forcing his eyes to peer at his host through the visible hairs of his


"You'd be recruiting to help catch anyone breaking Cabal rules?"

"You may have figured out by now there aren't exactly rules so much as

an expected behavior. Mostly a reasonable level of caution with the 

mutes. There would be a very brutal war if we couldn't maintain a 

tight rein on a general consensus in the Cabal. I wish there was more 

I could do, but too many innocents would die."

"What do you expect me to do?"

"It depends. May I probe you?"

"I'm not fond of the idea, I'd rather you didn't."

"Oh, I want you to stop me. Do everything you can to stop me. In fact,

if you can control me, they'll make you Inquisitor. But I'm going to

have to probe you anyway, since you've met most of the leadership



"Not because you're dangerous, but because you're so new, yet so 

experienced we don't know what to make of you. You ready?"

"Okay, but I'm not happy about this..."

The onslaught began. The two men slashed probes out, battering each

other's advances aside. The spear like thrusts of one would be met by

a wall like barrier of the other. Jorge staggered under one slamming

hammer blow, only to deal out a sledge hammer stroke in return. Then

the attacks drew on images of animals wrestling with each other,

great tigers, lions, and monstrous creatures of the imagination. The

battering seemed to Jorge to last immeasurably long.

The clatter of a dropped cue stick passed quickly, nothing changed by 

the event.

Soon the two were nearly kneeling, sweating from the invisible

struggle, which sapped strength with psychic blows of enormous

proportions. Neither had penetrated the other's defenses when Charles

held up a hand.


And with the ceased effort of their minds, Jorge collapsed in a

nearby chair. Charles remained leaning, with effort, on the edge of

the pool table.

"I can see we're well matched," came panting from Charles.

"I guess," said Jorge.

"I can't say I've come across anyone as strong as you in my life. Even

my predecessor couldn't stand toe to toe with me. God, where did you 

pick up your Voice?"

"It doesn't matter, does it?" Jorge felt a certain concern, that he 

safeguard his source of knowledge.

"Only a little. God gives us the Voice. We're born with it. But

something awakens it. I've always thought the cause affects the

strength. I really am interested in how you're talent awoke but you

needn't tell me."

Jorge shook his head. He remained quiet at the invitation to speak.

"I'll tell you my story though. My mother was a whore. She often

brought the johns home, since otherwise she'd have to pay for the

room. Made more money. She always referred to the johns as 'uncles'.

On occasion I wasn't quick enough to hide in my room and the johns

would hit me for being too slow. My Voice came to me when one of my

'uncles' was beating me. My emotions rode the strength of the Voice

to stop him. He died immediately," Charles paused. He slid into one of

the chairs opposite Jorge. "Heaven forgive me. Then my mother turned

me out into the night.

"It wasn't until I found the Cabal that I found a sense of purpose. 

Personally, I'm disgusted we don't have a much more strict set of 

rules, but open warfare between Voices could kill millions of people. 

Afterwards we'd all be hunted like animals.

"What I need is good help. Ideally, I'd like to find people with the 

Voice before they learn to use it. To help them develop in a more 

healthy way. Realistically, we never find them before their habits are

formed, like yours.

"At least you turn your women loose quickly and don't steal using the

Voice. That crew out there," he waved a hand the direction of the

amphitheater, "have some pretty incredible vices. The woman in the

red dress has been getting even with men for years. Not one of her

toys escapes being marked forever. Every now and then I've got to

save one before she kills him. I think she's passed from sheer

vengeance into the realm of vindictiveness. I can't even mention what

the Speaker likes to do..."

"Sounds bad," said Jorge. "So?"

"Yeah," Charles nodded, "On the whole they're pretty tame compared 

with anyone I have to censure permanently."


"You can lose your Voice, if we have no other way to keep you from 

calling attention to us. That's my job. I'm the one, the one they call

on to do it. If I can't do it, we have assassins... but we've only done

that once while I've held the position. I fear I'm condemned to Hell 


"You've had people killed? Where does that leave me if I don't want to

help? Are you going to kill me too?"

"No. You'll just have to consider this a warning about drawing

attention to the talent if you're not interested in helping. I don't

want to use harsh methods, but I'm not afraid to. I can't afford to

let the run of the mill megalomaniacs get all of us killed."

"Okay, I understand." He rose, and walked a few steps, "I'd being

willing to help, I'm bored lately."

"I thought as much when you kept asking questions. I've an assignment 

for you, in Chicago."


"Chicago. I'll have a packet for you before you leave today."

When he left, he was bound for the airport. Charles had even booked a 

first class seat for him to the Windy City.

Chicago was a simple exercise. The ill mannered Voice was trying to

control the city council. In many other cities there would be little

doubt it was unusual. In Chicago, just about everyone assumed the fix

was happening behind closed doors. Jorge easily affected a change in

the rogue, leaving behind a quiet unassuming individual without any

unusual talents.

He was proud of himself. He had averted a power hungry idiot whose

actions could eventually lead to armed intervention. He probably

saved an untold number of lives.

Yes, the pride he'd felt as a child returned. He felt a return of

accomplishment, lost when he believed his talent was unique and

completely unrestricted. Apathy had been driven out in favor of


There were obstacles he would overcome ahead. No longer a sure thing

this talent, there would be challenges for his skill to tackle. His

head rose a few inches higher was he left Chicago.


New Mexico was hot but dry. 

Las Cruces lies at the southern tip of the San Andres Mountains, along

that part of the Rio Grande north of the Mexican border. To the

northwest Jorge had seen Elephant Butte and Caballo Reservoirs as his

plane came in. The expanses of water seemed out of place in the arid


The Voice he was to visit was reputedly involved in local politics.

The bent to control the world was the worst problem he dealt with on a

regular basis. Charles seemed genuinely pleased with his work though.

He settled into a hotel, rented a car and started off to the local

address he'd been given. The address wasn't hard to get to, just a

little north, out of town. It was a ranch, very western in appearance,

as though someone was living partly in the past.

The ranch was large. Guards at the gate tried stopping him at first,

but they agreed quickly he should go on by. They soon forgot him


The porch out front was gray brown. He climbed the steps and looked 

around. The wood clumped at him as he walked about looking in the 

windows. The door in the middle of the porch had a button at the side 

for the bell. He ignored the bell.

Entering the wooden ranch house, he noted its appearance. Rustic

style was the main decor. Bull's horns, old saddles, retired pistols,

wagon wheels, spurs, and occasionally an antique picture of a cowboy

adorned the walls. The only carpet was a narrow and worn red strip of

clothe up the stairs.

He was met by a surprised servant in the dining room. The servant

forgot him quickly, returning to dusting the furniture. The table was

large enough for twenty or more. The dusting would keep this person

busy for some time.

Jorge went up the stairs and found the place empty. He settled into a

bedroom, sitting in a large chair by the front window. He waited. The

sun watched him through the window. He imagined the dim light in the

long winters in Denmark.

A short time later a pink convertible pulled up. A woman in stylized

western clothing, right down to the boots, stepped out. She looked

over at his car and almost danced as she hopped up to the house.

Sounds of human voices rose from downstairs. He smiled. He knew the

cleaning would still be occupying the poor servant. No, she hadn't

seen anybody. Was there really a car out front, she hadn't noticed. He

imagined the conversation ending with, what was obviously justified

concern on the modern cowgirl's face.

Resounding clopping came from the stairs. The boots thudded along in

the hallway as she walked through rooms on the second floor. She

stepped through the door, seeing Jorge for the first time. His

slacks, t-shirt and loafers must have seemed out of place, she was


"Just how did you get in here?"

"I'm waiting for someone. You wouldn't know Pat Morick, would you?"

"I'm Pat Morick, but you better have one hell of a good reason for 

being here buster, or you're in a lot of trouble."

"Oh my," he hadn't expected the Voice to be a woman. On reflection

she could prove very entertaining. Her figure more visible here than

through the window.

She wore heavy jeans, a western yoke shirt with a string tie serving

to accent her chest's curves. The boots were up her calves three

quarters of the way to her knees. The hips a bit wide, but seemed to

match the bone structure she carried. The shoulders were wide too,

holding the shirt out almost square without padding.

Her face was pink, with dimpled cheeks, a pug nose, wide lips and

alert angry eyes. Sun bleached hair trimmed to the shoulders, she

wore it held back by a pair of clips on either side. Her hands were

clenched into little fists, braced atop her hips.

"You've been naughty, Pat. The Cabal doesn't like political

entanglements. It gets the wrong kind of attention."

He smiled at her and lashed a mind probe forward, symbols of control

to implant in her brain.

She gasped. Her body flung back against the wall as though he'd struck

her, hands to the side to support her stance. It was only a snap

muscle reaction causing her backwards motion, physical force from him

causing none of her movement.

She lowered her head and concentrated a stare on him. His initial

probe failed to gain entry. Now he slapped aside a counter thrust.

She needled with jabs at his barriers.

To prevent outside interference, he got up, walked to the door and

closed it. It came as no surprise to him he could do this while they

dueled. Yet she seemed unable to deal with physical movement while

engaged in the mind battle. He sought about for any distraction to

cause her attack to slow down. He needed to resume his own.

She furiously surged energy waves of thought at him. He could make

out crude control symbols in her attack, but couldn't do much more

than stop them. Her brain was well protected by her own frantic


Charles was the only Voice he'd met so far with this kind of strength.

An idea crept up as his attacks against her mind failed again. Time

stretched out. She managed to stand again, trying to strike him with

her fists.

While the main bout was thrashing in their minds, he grabbed hold of

her slender wrists. They were strong, but her skin soft to the touch.

He dragged her bodily to the bed. She barely had enough control over

her actions to put up a resistance. It was weak resistance, but

resistance none the less.

"Get off me asshole!" she screamed. "Keep your filthy hands off me!"

"You can submit and make this unnecessary," he snarled back. "I don't 

need you for sex, but I'll use any weapon to control you right now."

Clawing his face kept him away from her shirt for a moment. He was

able with one hand to pin her arms above her head. With the other he

drew her face to him as he forcefully kissed her mouth. She bit him,

drawing a little blood.

"Bitch!" he snapped.

His anger rose within. But also some compassion. He didn't like doing

it this way, but to control her mind he needed somehow to distract

her. He wouldn't fail, causing Charles to use an assassin, he simply 

would not.

Symbols for sexual pleasure were a simple matter. Remembering he 

didn't plant them in the brain most of the time, he began adding 

surging heat to her loins. He forced the tickling sensation of lust 

through her chest, and successfully drove visual desire into her 

eyes symbols.

She felt the betrayal of her body. The pleasure overcoming her painful

physical resistance. Separation of mind and body, a step aside, as 

though a broken network was trying to reconnect itself. She still 

controlled her actions, but no longer was her sense of feel her own.

"Okay motherfucker, you want to screw? We'll screw. But you won't like

it much once I've got you!" a wildcat snarl verbally snapped at him.

She began to trying to bite him, the battle of mental energies

continuing. The rape of her body was only a secondary front to the

rape of her will he was trying to commit.

Kissing her became a battle itself. Her tongue tried to bruise his,

teeth gnashing at any penetration he made to her mouth. She'd

converted her own desires to acts of violent arousal, a severe counter

rape of him. Although giving in to the sexual aspect of the combat,

she was determined to fight for dominance in the act of sex as well.

He pulled away her shirt, tearing it into long strips of clothe as he

attacked her. Her breasts, still strapped into the bra she wore,

stretched the fabric remaining, nipples aroused to hard nodules. Her

hands, now free, began to tear away his t-shirt.

Boots clattered to the floor behind him. Her humping body lunged

against his groin, whether to injure or excite he couldn't tell. He

fumbled with her snaps and zipper at her waist. She tried to twist

their bodies to attain superior position on top. He used the strength

in his upper torso throwing her back again.

He stripped away the pants she wore, exposing slender curves, muscled

from exercise. He now had a view of pale, formerly concealed skin.

Her panties had come off with the pants, exposing a polygon shape of

curly hair at her pubic region. Her hips still seeming wide, were

rolling lightly with excitement.

The final removal of her bra revealed a pair of firm white knockers, 

tipped with small, sharp nipples. The nipples were erect from the 

exertion of wrestling against him.

She clawed at his back to pull him against her. Her teeth plunged

into his shoulder as her excitement grew more evident. He slapped her

face for the brutal biting. But the bright red palm mark seemed only

to excite her more. Jorge was puzzled by this, but the psychic battle

was still lashing away and he couldn't afford to wonder much.

She believed he'd lose control using physical force. She was

accustomed to being vicious and brutal. He, she believed, was not.

This could give her the edge she needed, if she could draw the

violence out of him.

She whimpered with the next blow he delivered. Finding her hands

pinned again, she tried squirming around to get out from underneath, 

only to find his free fingers were twisting her nipples. The heat this

sent through her body elicited a deep moan of pleasure. 

Her body yielded in pleasure to him. He struggled to avoid the

temptation to give in to the brutality she encouraged. She continued

to claw him, whenever she could get a hand free.

"yesss!" she whispered, arousal reaching her voice. The violence was

remarkably bringing her lust to a boil. She seemed to enjoy being

combative, thriving on the thrill, the power, the struggle.

The mental violation was moving slowly as well. His successful probes

were surface in nature, only now gaining control over the helpless

body beneath him. She remained in control over her mind behind the 

body, but physical resistance was ebbing completely. 

Her movements became more supple. The eyes she focused on him hazed

with lust. He could feel heat rising within her. A hint of

humiliation rose inside her, losing her control of her now helpless


She was panting and gasping for breath, both excited and frantic. The 

adrenaline rush, coming from both fear and lust, gave her a boost.

Her legs opened to him now. The pink wet opening exposed for his use. 

His own cock was still somewhat limp, but he could feel it hardening 

as he felt her gyrations beneath him. He no longer needed to hold her 

arms pinned. And her thin, almost bony, fingers began massaging the 

trunk of his prick.

He could still hear her mind voice ordering him off her body, but her 

mouth, swollen from passionate and lust driven kisses, widened into a


"Yes," he made her say, "Yes I want you. I want to be your sex toy."

He could feel a deepening sense of humiliation seep through her inner

mind, overcoming barriers remaining. He plunged into her, feeling the

moist tissue engulf his prick as her eyes rolled closed and he forced

moans from her throat. As he reached the depths of her vagina, another

phallic thought probe breached her mind. She was now his, only the

tiniest vestige of resistance remaining.

The power he had over her was strong, an aphrodesiac of great

proportion. He pummeled against her groin, watching her face contort

with unexpected pleasure.

"Yes! Yes! YES!" her mouth cried.

He no longer had to actively control her body to elicit response. She

joined willingly in the act now. Knowing only slightly it was his will

she served.

She screamed, physical orgasm penetrating to where he'd planted his 

controls. Her body was completely clenched, red tipped fingers tightly

fisted against her eyes and mouth. She was almost totally overcome 


With his cock still wet from her, he rolled her over, making her

kneel. Determined to overcome that last holdout at the back of her

now little mind, he forced his entry into her ass. She squealed in

pain. His dominance needed a further step to strip her of her last 

hold on herself.

"NO! You'll hurt me!," she cried out. Her last little iota of control

rose up, trying once more to batter back his ownership of her body.

"You deserve to be hurt, remember? You wanted me to hurt you just a 

minute ago. It's what you want." 

"Yes. Yes I want it," he forced her to say. "Please, use me again!"

Again the humiliation rose within and he fostered it with reinforcing 

symbols inside her. The deeply hidden nugget of self she'd withheld 

cracked. She cried on the bed underneath him, the last holdout allowed

a moment to show defeat. He pressed his prick deeper into her nether 


He owned her soul now too. He held her mind cradled in the bindings

his manipulation had created within her.

He began to move in and out, forcing her body to feel pleasure from

being used. He let her come again, screaming with joy, before he

allowed his own heat to rise. He owned her completely now. There was

no last reserve.

With a sudden plunge, his seed entered her ass. She seemed lost in 

exhaustion when he finally grunted out his orgasm. It was a good 

release. A great way to end the brutal battle.

He started to change her, engineering a new personality.


Jorge found a phone and made a call.

"You got the one in New Mexico?" came the familiar voice.

"Yes Charles. I wish you'd tell me in the future what gender the

Voice is."

"Come now Jorge, where's the fun in that?"

"She's controlled by me now. She's almost as strong as you or I. We 

can probably use her in our duties."


"Really. I had to take her. She wouldn't submit willingly, and now 

she's totally available for our purposes."

"I've seen her picture. Have you...?"

"Yes, and I will again, but you won't."

"Now Jorge, you know I don't force my partners. God forbid. Not even

using the Voice. I even find it a little disturbing when you do."

There was a pause. "Your next assignment is in Texas. Pretty close to

where you are now, a little south."

"Oh yeah?"

"El Paso..."


A foul taste in his mouth woke him up.

Bob looked around the room he'd confiscated for concealment. The room

was a partial shambles. It appeared a construction crew at work wasn't

finished and left furniture in place as they fumbled about.

Among a handful of other objects there was the bed he was sharing

with the naked girl at his side. She was smiling with the innocence

of one whose problems would be solved for her.

He traced a finger along her pert breast, allowing himself to rub 

the nipple with the palm of his hand. She started to smile, stretching

and exposing her other breast to his perusal. She blinked open her 

eyes, inviting him to use her again by spreading her arms wide.

He was slightly disgusted. Partly with himself, for allowing himself

to take her, mostly because of the situation. It would have been

great fun if he were less harried by fear. But then, maybe he'd take

her again now.

Miki seemed to be thriving on the threat of capture. She writhed

beneath the hands as they milked her nipples. Her head was moving in

rhythm, chin jutting out, as he worked a pattern of manipulation into

the action.

He moved so his hips were above her head. Tilting her face all the way

back, he could enter her mouth. With her neck stretched out, he had an

easy entry deep inside past her tongue. The twitching tongue in her

mouth was caressing the top of his prick as he worked in and out of


With his balls bouncing against her nose and eyes, the sense of being 

deep in her throat was impressive. He could see her hips bucking as he 

pushed in past her lips. Her hand worked into the folds of her soaking

wet flesh. 

As she sucked at him, he could feel familiar heat growing in him. The

surge was coming, moving beyond stopping now. She swallowed, and

swallowed again as a second, lighter surge pulsed through his cock.

He pulled out of her mouth. She fingered herself, unaware she used to

hate the idea of masturbating. A moan came from the puffy red lips,

and her tongue licked, putting pressure against herself. He blocked

her from coming though, so she became more frantic in her attempts at

self fulfillment.

Using his talent on himself, he sent arousal signals through his own 

prick. A second hard on came very quickly. She seemed genuinely 

surprised, perhaps not knowing how much control was possible.

Lifting her tight legs over his shoulders he teased at making entry to

her hungry pussy.

"Oh please, I want you in me. I need it now."

"You say the nicest things. How about telling me how good I am?"

"You're the best. No one's ever been better. I love your prick inside

my cunt. Can't you tell?"

He chortled. It was unnecessary to force her to praise him, but power

was so satisfying. And underneath the layer of controls he'd placed

she felt a thrill submitting herself to him.

The enlarged prick slipped smoothly into her soaking wet cunt. The fit

wasn't tight, but the velvet smoothness invigorated him. He worked

his way in and out. While he did, she thrashed about, struggling for

release. He pulled the nervous system stops out of the way, allowing

her to pump the sexual energy throughout her body.

Her orgasm was strong, but she muffled the screech trying to come out.

Energy sapped from her body, she began to go limp. He pumped in a 

last time, using the symbols to draw forth a spurt of his semen within

her. It wasn't the best, but still, it was a good release, a jump 

start orgasm for the morning. 

Pulling out, he sat up at the edge of the bed. He stared off into 

space for a few minutes. The woman behind him began to snore again. He

grinned thinking how exhausted he left her.

He stank.

There was a bathroom. Trying the door, it opened. The plumbing

appeared to be complete, so he tried the water. It was working well

enough so he started the shower.

Clearing away some of the junk by the bathroom door kept him busy

while the water warmed up. Rummaging about turned up a few clean

towels. A well used hunk of soap shortly drew attention to itself as


The warm water brought feeling back to his skin, muscles relaxed 

from the cramps developed in the uncomfortable strange bed. Rivulets of 

water tickled his senses, the dream quality of flowing water allowed 

him escape for the moment.

He imagined escaping with the water through the drain.


The helicopter rose in the bright morning light. The four story 

building below shrank rapidly.

He couldn't take any chances. The spark remained on the loose. It 

wasn't clear how the spark had gotten loose, but the assumption had

to be made; there was a flaw in the mind shields. A new development, 

and a fearful one. 

The new wild spark was more dangerous than the visitors with their

guns yesterday. This threat allowed no counter action if he remained 

here. Thadeous felt forced to flee.

He left Jones to fend for himself. The man knew an awful lot about

the operation. Yet someone with both authority and initiative had to

be left in control until the spark was found.

Having a spark break in was frightening too. Something was wrong, but

the records here were limited to discovering, catching and studying

the sparks. None of the Institute's other activities would be


He spent the night worrying. The helicopter too late, the spark might

slip into his room at any moment. Yet nothing had happened, and the

flight was underway.

He would move the operation to the Colorado facility. If the spark

were caught, operations could resume as before. He wasn't counting on

this possibility.

How would he tell Jezabel?


"Mr. Jorge Dansen."

Cobwebs parted from his eyes to display a man in an immaculately

pressed suit. The sounds hadn't yet sunk in, his ears uncertain he'd

actually heard his surname. He couldn't turn his head for some reason.

"Jorge? Ah, we are awake now aren't we."


"Hm, Oh, where are you? At the Institute of course. You present us 

with a most unusual problem. We've never had a spark break in before. 

They all seem to want to break out. Can you imagine their gall, trying 

to leave us?"


"Oh my. Hopefully your eloquence will pick up once the gas wears off

a bit more. Your woman, the reporter, " Jones paused a moment, "she's

become amorously attached to one of our inmates. An unexpected

pleasure for us. The red head she likes is one of my boss's current

favorites, so maybe she'll get an interview after all. Shame it'll

never make the evening news though."

"'leven 'clock, different from ev'ning news."

"No matter, she won't be leaving us any time soon. All she wants to do

is screw Heather. I watched them for a while myself. She's fun to

watch by the way."

"allyoudo?, watch? cantchagetitup?"

The angry glare was piercing. Jones walked out of view. Jorge now

realized he was tied down tightly. Very tightly. Trying his talent

resulted in serious pounding pains at the back of his skull. Not that

it mattered, the man from the Institute wore a device behind his ear,

easily identified in this place as a mind shield.

Jones came back after a mumble voiced discussion.

"Where is Bob?"


"Come now, you can't convince me your break in wasn't associated with 

his attempted break out. You two must be working together somehow. 

Where is Robert Lawrence?"

"whoinhellis Robert Lawrence?"

"You aren't helping yourself any," Jones waved to someone out of

sight, "Take him to debriefing."

The sound of hard leather on tiled floor, clack, clack, clack...

"Oh Jorge," Jones paused.


"My. I arranged to sample your woman later, of course, I'll probably

be far less subtle than you and cause her some injuries. You sure you

don't want to tell me something before then?"

"gofugyermudder, icangetanudderone."

"If that's how you feel about it," he waved again.

Jorge felt a motion and realized for the first time, he was on some 

kind of hospital gurney. He tried to move, but was frustrated by 

strong straps. There was one across his forehead. No wonder his head 

couldn't move.

The wheels clicked as they moved across tiles on the floor beneath. 

The rhythmic sound felt like being beaten. 

What was debriefing?


Bob reached out.

A barrier at the exterior of the building blocked him. He had to poke

and prod around shields for a bit to find a hole. Somehow they seemed

to be unable to perceive where overlapping shields didn't actually

meet. Better yet, someone forgot to protect the floors below. 

An exit turned up for the mind probe. It amused him the plumbing 

probably took a similar route after all.

He stood in the running water, and reached a long thin needle of

thought towards Bambi. It was a difficult strain. Finding her mind

engaged in leisure, he ignored what she was doing and planted a

suggestion. No, a series of suggestions.

He wasn't sure he could do it, but casting about from her mind he 

found a dozen mind shields around the house. Carefully he insinuated 

controls around the odd shapes of the shields, compelling the owners 

to new tasks.

While he could still manage it, he found Mary and issued some 

instructions to her as well. The Institute had only one man watching 


With strain, he pushed the needle of thought to Fran, giving her duty

at the bank. The Institute, probably acting on profile information,

left her unwatched. If he was free, they probably reasoned he would

return home or to Mary. Not the dozen or so housewives he might have


He sucked in air. The water had gotten cold. 

He shivered as he dried himself.


Jones walked into Diane's new room, adjacent to Heather's.

It was the usual Institute arrangement, a queen sized bed, a dresser,

a lounge chair, some bookshelves with an assorted reading collection.

There was a tightly closed window, but no bars.

Jones smiled, subjects in these rooms never needed bars. Conditioned

to remain, exceptions whose unnatural lust for the coven leader kept

them passive, awaiting commands.

He was disgusted. What gave these animals the right to have this

power? He should be the one, not them. He would find a way in time.

Even Thadeous would bow before him, worship at his feet! For now

though, he could bide his time.

As long as he found Bob, the little creep. Thadeous might separate

him from his hide if the spark escaped. He would not tolerate Bob's 

continued freedom. Anyone failing in the duty to find Bob would suffer

the most sever sanctions.

He'd been an Institute man for almost fifteen years now. He knew the

woman who sat before him was a threat only until Heather had had her.

She was harmless now. Diane was compliant to his every wish now,

Heather saw to that.

Her poise was stoic. Not defiant, but stern, committed to servitude,

yet remaining aloof. The lounge chair held her well, looking deep and


"Bob, Robert Lawrence," he said.

"Pleased to meet you Bob." His eyes lit at this response. 

"You mean you never heard of Bob?"

"Should I know you?"

"Not me, you twit, Robert Lawrence."

"Oh, I thought you meant you were Mr. Lawrence."

He groaned. Damn it, the spark may have told the truth. 

"Why did you come to the Institute, Miss Towers?"

"I got a hot tip, said you were performing brain experiments. I guess 

the guy on the phone was right. He works here somewhere."

This little revelation frightened him. Then he remembered the lab

techs had been isolated. Probably the one that freed Bob called her.

Thadeous was right, isolating all the potentially tainted techs was


"Yes, well you'll never leave here again, I assure you."

"I wouldn't leave Heather. She needs me."

He grinned. Heather had turned her out, like many of her coven

members before, to work the streets for Heather's comfort. Only

Heather had no idea the harlots couldn't get paid for their service


"She'll be here as for as long as you will."

"Good, I don't want to be without her."

"Well, right now you'll take care of me. And we're going to have some 

fun, aren't we?" He unstrapped his belt.

"You paid for it, er, if you're not Bob, who are you?"

"Just call me 'Master'."

"Yes Master."

There was no pleasure in it for her, but Jones didn't care. She was 

doing this for Heather anyway. She'd be pleased when Heather told her 

how good she'd been.

Heather wouldn't do that, he decided. He'd find a way to convince 

Heather she hadn't been paid.


Bambi was in the midst of playful activities. She vaguely knew in the

back of her mind Bob modified the women to entertain each other in

his absence. She couldn't change the controls he'd placed. It seemed

right somehow to perform the duties he'd laid out for them.

The sense of belonging grew, each day the fellowship she had with the 

other women was stronger. She was reflecting on this sense, and the 

sense of being at home. A good inner feeling of security. They were a 

family now.

Abruptly her eyes opened, {I'm here} she projected.

{Have fun, see you later, don't hurt them!}

{Hurt them!? They're going to hurt me! Bob?} but he was gone again.

Bob left a message, somewhere beneath her thoughts, she knew. She

calmed herself, if he wanted her to know now, she'd know now. The

message could wait.

Just as the controls were keeping the women together for Bob, the

controls would bring the message to the surface when it was time. She

wouldn't find it if she tried.

Bob's instructions found her later.


Bob came out of the bathroom, both exhausted and refreshed. At least

the stink was gone, down the drain with the water.

Miki had a grey cat on her lap and was stroking the fur to the sound 

of deep throated purring. He wondered only briefly where the feline 

critter had come from.

"Get that thing out of here," he said. 

"Aw it's just a little kitty."

"The damn things give me the creeps. Stupid animals anyway. How'd it 

get in here anyway?"

The cat scooted away on it's own as he approached anyway. No telling 

where it went, much less where it came from.

"You might want a shower."

"I can try, how long do you think we're safe here?"

"I'll worry about that, you've decided to let me, remember?"

"Okay, back in a few." 

And she bounced off to the shower. A moment later a shriek came back. 

The water probably hadn't warmed up yet. He grinned. She should've 

tested the temperature before getting in, he thought.

Gathering himself in, he began to seek out the guards, the lab people,

anyone with a mind shield on. Soon, he'd find someone to suit his



Peters was walking down the hall. 

It had been another satisfying morning, observing a spark beat the 

pleasure out of one of his coven. Peters knew if he could find a 

method for anyone to do the same, he'd be given any woman he wanted. 

He'd be able to do the beating himself. He wouldn't have to just sit 

and watch.

Somewhere in this place was a clue to how to tap the energy these 

sparks used. Somehow he would find it. Soon. Soon he would be in 

control of the women he wanted, and they would be happy to serve him.

He was walking towards Heather's room, the path an accident, but the 

clue he sought wouldn't be there either...


Jorge felt the needle stab his arm. The point was hollow, he knew.

Oddly enough, he knew these men were bored. He was another spark to 

examine and question. 

"It's okay, just a little thiopental. Can you count backwards from one


He just stared at the man in the white lab coat. Then he laughed at

him. The guy shrugged and started talking about the drug and how it

would affect him and the interesting time they would have together

and there was a clock on the wall and he realized he'd begun to talk

too and he couldn't stop and the ceiling was very odd...


The first couple guards weren't much trouble. They tipped him off to

the monitoring center. The monitoring center took him a short time

since they were relying on the wall shields to protect them.

They'd made the same mistake there as with the exterior walls. Any

bank officer could tell them what they'd forgotten. The number of

bank robberies from tunneling under the walls led to well reinforced

foundations. After all, the defense was only as strong as its weakest


He was fascinated for a few minutes by the number of inmates they

monitored. Most of them weren't 'sparks' though. Most inmates kept

being referred to as coven members. He wondered about that.

He began snatching up every guard he could find. Just in case his take

over was interrupted he had them take off their mind shields, remove

the battery, replace the little devices behind the ear and forget


Then he found a most interesting development. There was a man in the 

interrogation room. He began to take over the techs, but the 

discussion was most fascinating. He had to meet this man. The idea 

there might be help available appealed to him. 

He continued to concentrate on taking over the entire Institute.


Men on duty as guards come in many varieties. The Institute had

ensured loyalty by some reprogramming. A mild brainwashing technique

since completely replaced by the use of an examination in the

interesting room Bob visited early on.

It had a certain effect on the initiative of the subjects however.


Jenkins had been walking the halls much of the morning when he stepped

into the Mens room. He somehow failed to notice the device that 

dropped from behind his ear.

He had been programmed to forget about it after all. 


Dobson had been drinking his coffee when his keys fell to the floor. 

When he rose, the itch behind his ear was gone. It felt much better 

not to worry about whatever had been bothering his ear.


Post turned suddenly when he heard a sound on the grounds. It was

another guard, but a crow would later collect a new shiny thing for

its nest. The errant mind shield wasn't even noticed by Post at all.


The only reason the other guards didn't notice; they were all

slipping under the control of the escaped spark.

Bob was pleased at the speed with which the Institute was falling.


Part 10

                        _Out of Print_

Something odd was happening. Jorge noticed the noises in the room had


He wondered if thiopental deadened normal senses. They said the

effect was different on everyone. The white cloaked man asked him to

count backwards, so he had laughed. Laughing failed to stop the drug

from working however.

Some questions he ignored at first. But then he started telling them

about the caves in Denmark and then Edda. They seemed very interested

in anything about the symbols. They never heard of them before. And

when he mentioned the Cabal, they looked very startled.

One of the men started mumbling something about subjects lying while

under the drug before. They were very excited though.

It seemed hours passed before his head began to clear a little and he

started getting very drowsy.

Then quiet settled over the room.

A strap over his forehead came undone. He tried to crane his neck,

but some kind of cap was being removed from his hair. It pulled at

him, making it feel as though the roots were being yanked out.

Looking from side to side, he was able to make out one man burning a

bunch of tapes in a trash can.

His arms came free. The straps holding his legs and ankles went next.

One man was politely offering him a hand to get up. His head spun a

bit as he sat. The room, a sterile space, was littered with various

bits of equipment normally found in a doctor's office. A pair of

oxygen tanks stood nearby, a desk, a set of chairs, and various

assorted paraphenalia.

The room contained only three men besides himself. They were all

busy, making themselves ingratiating. The one burning the tapes was

smiling and nodding at him. One offered tylenol for the headache he

must now have. The third watched at the door, keeping an eye out

for someone.

Their sudden change in behavior seemed very odd. They even still had 

mind shields on. He tried to probe all three without success.

A cardboard box on the floor contained his clothing and belongings. He

poked through it, looking for a most important article, his watch. 

Finding it, he turned it over. The medallion was still attached. The 

foolish interrogators never checked. 

He put in on, and doing so, felt vastly refreshed.

Then he spotted a phone on the desk. He managed, with some help from

a former captor, to stumble over to it. Lifting the handset, he tried 

dialing only to get a horrible tone for the effort.

The man beside him picked up the phone, held down the switch hook for 

a few moments, then dialed '9'. He handed the phone back with the 

steady hum Jorge was accustom to. Jorge dialed again.

"You've reached the offices of Schmitz, Martin, and Lear. May I help 

you?" came a feminine voice.

Jorge smiled for the first time since the gas put him in dreamland. He

recalled how nicely the owner of that voice screamed in the sack.

"I'd like to speak with Mr. Lear, Cindy."


Leisure activity at an end, Jones stepped into the hall. The very

first man he saw was a guard.

Jones learned his craft years before. Every stitch out of place

triggered some small part of his paranoid senses. Something was

wrong. He knew it but couldn't find the cause.

Reaching into his pocket, he removed a second mind shield. One he'd

taken from the lab techs who could have handled Bob on the gurney. He

examined the hearing aid like device in his palm and looked down the

hall at the receding backside of the guard.

The man's ears were both visible.

There was no mind shield. He suppressed his panic, and stepped back

into the room with Diane. Grabbing her, he led her into Heather's

room. He picked up one of the local censure shields, a skull cap like

device to place over a telepath's head, intended to suppress the


Seeing one man with his mind shield still in place, Jones stopped him

along the way. He brought the man along. If he could get anyone out

who was capable of helping the Institute rebuild elsewhere, it would

prove useful.

Peters didn't know what was going on. But Jones was the number two man

at the Institute. Peters wasn't going to lose his status by following

the man's orders. He quickly complied with the directions he was


He led the little troop towards the river side exit. There were

speedboats there. The loose spark couldn't control everyone. If only

there was time enough left...


Sunlight filled the room. Like a glass full of sparkling clear water,

the sun washed to every corner, flooded the long wooden shelves,

illuminating the oak desk.

Bob stood at the window. He tried to imagine mowing the yard before

him. The number of tight corners, hedges, trees and other obstacles

must make the gardeners crazy, he decided. A numbing escape into

physical labor only goes so far before it becomes annoying.

Birds seemed to like the greenery. He tried to touch one of the 

flight borne creatures with a mind probe, but had forgotten the shield

at the outer walls of the building. Some other time perhaps.

Jorge was led in by two of the men who interrogated him. He was back

in his own things. It was much more comfortable than a blue hospital

gown. The mess here would be settled soon. The Cabal was on the way.

Bob didn't turn as he spoke.

"The records of your interrogation have been destroyed, and the goons

can't remember a thing," he said, watching a cardinal soar on bright

red wings.

"Who are you?"

"Me? I'm Bob. You are Jorge."

"Oho! You must be the escaped Robert Lawrence that man was; wait a 

minute!" Jorge walked over to look out the window too. The clouds were

puffing along, accenting a beautiful blue sky.

"Hmm," Bob faced towards the freed telepath. "what?"

"Where's the guy who questioned me about you? He was in charge of

this place."

"What did he look like?'

"Perfect suit, black hair, manicured, muscular, short nose. About 42,

give or take a few years. The kind you see as the heavy CIA type in


"That should be Jones. Dirk Jones is how he introduced himself to me."

"Yeah, if you say so. But he was in charge, what'd you do with him?"

"No, he wasn't. Some guy named Thadeous was. Neither of them are still

here. Sorry, I haven't found your reporter friend yet either. You do

know, by the way, how bad an idea it would be if she actually aired

this story?"

"She's not going to tell anyone. You know that."

"And I expect your gang of thugs at any minute."


"This Cabal, or whatever."

"You got that? Say, how did you get past those mind shields?"

"They're shaped funny, like donuts. I didn't know until they tried to

experiment on me with some kind of control machine. Your people will

probably find it soon enough. Like donuts, there's this hole in the

middle. If I had to guess, they probably transmit some kind of energy

through an antennae. Most antennas have some dead spots. You just

need to know where."

"Really? Now I know, so lots of others will know too. You want, the

Cabal would welcome you as a member."

"No thanks. Until Thadeous and Jones are caught though, I'd like to

stay in touch with your people."

"I'll see what I can arrange. The Cabal won't have any trouble with 


"Tell me a little about them. Who the hell is the Cabal?"

"What's to tell? It's an international organization, mostly based in

the States because of the effort the Cabal put in moving here to

escape persecution in Europe. The name is new by a few centuries. It

was borrowed from a group in England under one of the kings named

Charles. I don't know enough history to know what it was called

before that.

"Let's see, the Cabal has been under siege a few times before. None

with secretly organized opposition though. This Institute scares the

leadership a whole hell of a lot."

"I can imagine..."

"No you can't, it's never happened like this before. The Cabal has

suffered from a few outside threats, but no one immune to the Voice.

Internally, we have occasional problems, but those we can handle."

"How about those internal problems. Why would anyone be stupid 

enough to cause trouble when a whole bunch of telepaths would be all 

over them in a hurry?"

"No one in their right mind would. But anyone with the Voice has a 

substantially higher risk of insanity. If you've even a tenuous grip 

on reality, follow the 'rules', no one in the Cabal gives a fuck.

"In essence, if you call attention to anyone with Voice, mostly

yourself, we try to convince you to ease back. We don't want any

witch hunts.

"The Cabal doesn't much care what someone does with the Voice.

Mostly. Stay away from power politics, it's too easy to spot the

personality changes the highly visible mutes go through your voice

influences them.

"There are also strict rules against violence, murdering mutes even

by proxy, or even just maiming them. Its another thing that attracts

too much attention. If you get enough mutes involved, they may figure

out what happened, and then... you can guess.

"This mess here for instance. Exactly the sort of thing the Institute

was doing. I was out here looking for them. I've only been hanging

out in the area a year, but everyone I work with think I've been here

for five. The planted familiarity sometimes can get additional leads.

The Institute's influence hit about two to three years ago, but we've

been unable to track them down."

"Yeah," said Bob, "I can see why a group like the Cabal would form.

But I don't like the idea of making too close an association."

"Embarrassed about your own set of playmates? The Cabal really

doesn't care about that. They're too worried about Voices that act

genuinely loco. Hell, they're much worse than you, I'm sure."

"That reminds me. They should be here any minute now. So what 

will you do with all the looney people the Institute has locked up 


"I'm not sure. It's against the rules to control other members and

people with the Voice. We save it for special situations requiring

censure. Some of these people have the Voice. They may simply need a

little adjustment to return to more normal lives."

"Normal? You've got to be kidding."

"If we have to, we can make them mute again. They'll have a chance

again, as soon as a little adjustment is made. A team will come in,

remove the 'God' syndrome and fix the worst. I doubt we'll need to

do much worse. As long as they're no longer a danger to the rest of


"I hope so," said Bob

"Just the way I feel."

Bob closed his eyes, sensing an additional presence. He didn't need to

root around the room though to find it. The familiar symbols almost

cried out to be found.

"Can I see your watch?" 

"Huh? What for?"

"I just want to see the source of the symbols I keep..., they're at

your wrist."

"You see the symbols?!"

"I read a book. You read a cave wall. I think you and I may be unique.

Most of the 'sparks' here are freaks of nature, finding their talent

by one freak accident or another. You and I seem to have woken it by

seeing the symbols."

Reluctantly, Jorge removed the watch. He pulled the concealed

medallion from it's hiding place. Bob turned it in his hands, basking

in a glow of definitions, descriptions and experiences from the red

coin like object. He handed it back after a moment.

"Very interesting, where'd you find that?"

"In a locket from the cave. I learned about the symbols through it,

more so than the scrawls in the cave."

"An unusual keepsake. Are there more?"

"I've never seen another one, you?"

"Oh no," Bob lied, "I'd know if one of those had passed under my eyes."

They both peered out the window to the brightly light lawn. Silence 

fell over them, a quiet born of the strange situation. Trouble shooter

rescued by amateur, waiting for the rest of the cavalry.

Jorge tried to think of ways to reach out to the younger man. He

wanted to know more about the book, yet somehow knew the subject had

been closed. Hands in his pockets, he looked at the tall man, 

wondering what to say. 

"What will you do once we take over this mess?"

"I'm going to hide for a while, some place with lots of people."

Jorge grinned, "and probably lots of attractive women too."

"Yeah," Bob grinned back, "as many as I can find. I've got this habit,



As Fran drove them away he looked back at the Institute. 

Miki was acting snippish, jealous of Fran and the deep kiss from Bob

when he greeted her. Bob deliberately made Miki watch as he gave Fran

a violent orgasm in the car. Miki's embarrassment was turning into a

deep humiliation, and he could sense deep down she liked the


He watched the manicured lawn and the frightening building vanished 

from sight. As they passed through the gates, his imprisonment passed 

away into a memory.

Too bad he couldn't make the Institute's organization vanish as easily.


From the balcony, it seemed the view went forever. She could make out

Denver in the distance. It was hazy, slightly marring the rest of the


Diane was confused. Heather was very important to her, but why were

they here? She wanted to go home, if only to get a change of clothes.

The people they traveled with were in such a rush. Hurry to the

plane, hurry to the car, hurry in the house. It was very unnerving.

Every now and then, the man who confused her by claiming to be Bob

insisted she service his peculiar needs. He still insisted on being

called Master. And Heather insisted she had to cooperate. He always

left a foul taste in her mouth, in much more than the physical sense.

He made her feel dirty.

He never touched Heather though. That was a small consolation.

She could hear his voice. He was talking to someone in the study 

above. They probably didn't know the window was open.

"I tell you we can still do it!"

"The Senator will be difficult to control. I'm not certain we can

continue operations until we've re-established ourselves here."

"As long as we have at least one of the sparks, we can still sell the 


"No," a strange male baritone replied. "I won't chance it until we've 

gotten a few more under our thumbs. I do thank you for bringing 

Heather. But we've got to get these two sparks. I have the folder on 

Robert Lawrence, and our field agents are gathering the necessary 

information on Jorge Dansen as well. Too bad the debriefing material 

for him was lost."

"I only just got out of there with the spark. The reporter was with me

at the time. I couldn't have gotten the tapes if I'd tried. You know

if I had, they'd be picking my brains too. Not just the lab techs we

left behind. And they don't need drugs to learn everything someone 


"I know, I know. But I don't think Jezabel will understand."

A shiver went through Diane, hearing the tone in the stranger's voice. 

Out of her sight, Jones shuddered at the name as well.


The trip was uneventful. The probe at the gate was gone. Whether

removed by the Institute or driven away by the Cabal, Bob had no idea.

They settled into the hotel suite very nicely, the women spreading out

all over. They had a nice view of Central Park looking north from the 


A man named Charles came by to visit. Jorge sent him. The man looked

a little like an academic, dressed as though he should pass for a

professor. The wire frame glasses kept sliding down his nose.

Bob knew the Charles was in charge of Cabal security or something

like it. They chatted a while. Bob didn't tell Charles anything he

hadn't told Jorge. Still, the man was grateful to Bob for helping. He

insisted on a substantial reward from the Cabal.

The Cabal demonstrated their gratitude to Bob in a monetary way. When

Charles learned how carefully he'd been accumulating his income, he

arranged a sizable retainer fee. Bob was now a semi-official

consultant of the Schmitz, Martin and Lear law firm.

They also promised to provide an accountant if he wanted. He'd

declined. If someone else was going to watch his money, it would be 

someone he controlled.

It was uncomfortable having older siblings watching his every move. 

Even if they were being protective.


His traveling harem had gone shopping.

Betty was excited about visiting Saks. Bob was more interested in a

town-house for the 'family'. First though, he had to get more

familiar with the City. He decided to explore a little on his own.

Manhattan is huge.

Bob was boggled at the shear size of it, the density of the

buildings, the number of people. For a seventeen to eighteen mile

long, five mile wide island, it was overwhelming him.

He went downtown to Chinatown. From there he walked north through the

village, Greenwich Village. Past the New York University buildings

and through Washington Square Park. He stopped for an early lunch

near a used book store he'd found around 12th street.

He continued on. The crowds were amazing, rushing from place to

place, hurrying to get where they were going so they could rush some

where else. He was unaccustomed to the waves of people.

At 33th street, an interesting game store had attracted his

attention. Too bad he really couldn't play competitively any more.

His discipline would have to improve significantly to keep from

reading an opponent's mind.

He wandered around, sampling food from street vendors, immersing

himself in the crowds. In the heat, scantily clad women glowed as

their exposed skin became moist. Crossing Herald Square, he avoided

the plethora of beggars in the little islands between the avenues.

After wandering about in a camera/electronics store for a while, he 

decided to visit some of the Museums. The shopping crowd was beginning

to oppress him. Too many rushing people.

He climbed into a taxi in front of Madison Square Garden, across from 

the Post Office.


Courtney was walking alone through the Gem exhibit. 

The day was very peaceful. She'd taken off work to avoid the heat in 

her office. Sometime, her boss promised, they'd get air conditioning 

put in. In the meanwhile everyone had to live with it.

Today she'd escaped. The tiger's eye was her favorite gemstone. There 

were a bunch of them here in the Museum of Natural History. The more 

popular stones attracted the tourists, but the tiger's eye were the 

loveliest stones here. She also liked the opals, but she knew the 

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 


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. 


"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 


"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


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

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. 


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 


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. 


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.


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. 


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.


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..."


"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 


"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 


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, 


"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 


"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 


"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! 


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."


"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 


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


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."



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.


Part 11

                _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 


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 


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


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


"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 


"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


"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 


"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 


"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 


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 


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."


"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 


"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 


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 


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


"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 


The mother came first, at least she knew a little of what to expect. 

"YESS! YESS!," she screamed, slamming her head from side to side. The 

black hair flew about giving the appearance of total abandon. Her body

writhed about, thrashing against the floor. As she finished, her eyes 

were filled with tears, sobbing sounds began to come from her.

Beth's moaning had become stronger. She was completely oblivious now 

to her mother's state. Her lips swollen in lustful red, she rolled her

tongue along the soft surfaces. Her head bobbed and her eyes slipped 

to half mast. She grunted and moaned, occasionally whimpering with 


"OH!" Her body went into convulsions. She began to flop about 

furiously, and then rigidly pulled herself into a ball. The orgasm 

came so quickly and passed just as fast.

Bob finished undressing while the mother and daughter lay side by 

side. He knelt beside Beth's head. She smiled. 

"That felt so nice." She was still in the haze of after sex pleasure. 

He grinned at her. Her mother was looking at the far wall, trying not 

to meet his eyes.

"We're not finished yet."

"What should I do?," she asked.

"Get up and suck on my cock."

"Oh. I can't do that."

"Of course you can. You'll find it very exciting."

She turned away a moment. Her mother was unwilling to meet her eyes at

all. Beth got up to a kneeling position and tried to take the stiff 

member in her hands. The red nails accented the difficulty she had in 

holding his prick. She couldn't bring herself to get a good hold on 


He took her, controlling the motions more tightly than before. Her 

hand now wrapped about the stem, she leaned forward and opened her 

mouth. Tongue out over her lower teeth, she began to lap at him as if 

he were an ice cream cone. He pushed arousal signals along the paths 

of symbols in her mouth and tongue. 

Her excitement grew as she licked and finally sucked him into her 

mouth. He could feel the massaging tongue, rubbing the bottom of his 

prick. He released control again, now that she was getting involved 

more heavily. 

She tried to drive him past her teeth into her throat. He'd left a

sense of desire to please him. She worked on evading the gag reflex,

unconsciously aware of his enjoyment being deep inside of her. His

prick slid in and out along her lips. The moisture of her mouth and

the gentle arousal from her tongue were bringing his heat up.

Watching her face, with the cheeks sucked in to aid in producing 

vacuum, he could see her eyes were locked on his own face. She watched

him for his release, uncertain what to expect. 

He took hold of the back of her head, forcing her to plunge him 

deeply. He penetrated her throat, aiding her by modifying her natural 

reaction to the cock at the back of her mouth. Her lips rolled 

smoothly at the root of his cock, her nose gently pressed his tummy.

Plasma hot semen pumped into her throat, he could feel the spasming

movements inside his cock. The release felt good, her mouth felt

good, his hands clutched in her hair felt good. He breathed in,

trying to recover already.

He let her go. She gasped for breath. When she could control her

breathing again her face grinned up at him in exultation.

"I did it!" As she realized just what she'd done, and the look of 

exultation changed to one of startled guilt. Her own pronouncement 

brought the tinge of red to her face.

"You sure did," he responded.

Her mother had a look of shock on her face. She was stunned as much by

her baby's happiness at sucking cock as the act itself. Bob grinned,

knowing who controlled the situation in any case.

He sat down on the couch. Crooking a finger to Beth's mother, he 

summoned her over.

"Your turn," he tried to sneer, but it came out more like a request.

Although he had no problem dominating his toys, he just couldn't make

himself sound mean yet. "You get it up for me again. No using your

hands either."

Her arms draped across his legs for support, Judy began to lick at his

prick with a bit of disgust, a reaction from her upbringing, not from

her body. Bob realized how she was reacting. He began to give her

shooting sensations of pleasure with each contact of her tongue or

lips. He caused the little jolts to trace down her torso to her tits

and groin. She began to become excited at making contact with his


Beth watched this, entranced. Her mother was sucking a cock. Sucking 

the same cock she'd just finished sucking herself. Her mother seemed 

to like it too! Her brown eyes opened wide in amazement. Soon, her mother

had Bob stiff again, the short third leg hard as before.

Bob stopped her mother, who now seemed reluctant to cease. Judy allowed 

herself to be pushed to the side. Bob was set on taking Beth, getting 

a cherry for himself.

Beth looked at Bob's stiff manhood. Although not large, she thought it

huge. She knew she'd had it in her mouth, even to her throat. Yet 

somehow it looked too large to fit inside of her.

He began to kiss her. She felt him guide her hands to the object of 

her interest. Judy, her mother, was sitting to the side whimpering as 

she was left out for now. Beth could see her mother, jaw open, hands 

playing with her own breasts. Having her mother watch this left her 

feeling very used indeed.

His hands were on the cushions of her chest, now and then twisting at 

the nipples, bringing a gasp from her throat. She was panting with 

anticipation, wet in her crotch. She tried to thrust her hips into his

body. She needed the physical stimulus. 

He took hold of her thighs. Pulling them apart, he exposed her

maidenhood. He was determined to pop her cherry for her. She knew it

was coming, her fluids were dripping now.

"Oh, please, please don't hurt me. Please," came the plea.

He pushed her ankles, slender muscular curves, up above her shoulders,

bending her up double. She tried to hold open her pussy lips for him, 

waiting for the violation of her body she now knew was coming.

With a hand to guide himself, Bob pushed the first inch into her. She 

whimpered with surprise at the slight pain. Gently, ever so gently, he 

pressed forward. The pressure hurt quite a bit. Then suddenly there 

was a light tearing and he slipped in further much more easily. The 

pain was still there for a moment. 

As he began a more rhythmic in and out motion, she felt a pulse of

heat, an energy throbbing up from her cunt. The feeling came from the

top where the length of the prick rubbed hard against her. She began

to buck back against the pressure there, trying to increase the


Bob enjoyed her expressions as they flashed across Beth's innocent 

face. A grinding fight against pain to outrageous ecstatic pleasure. A

silent scream to a hazy lost in lust softness. The tight pulled back 

lips, exposing teeth as though in anger, to the fish like kissing 


He dropped his face to hers and plunged his tongue into her mouth. She

tried to wrap her arms around the back of his head to pull him deeper 

in her mouth. Her legs reached around his hips, using her heels to 

pull him into her groin.

The heat rose within her. Like a brushfire it seared her torso, 

through her chest to her throat. As they continued to kiss, she

started to scream, forcing her breath into his mouth as she let loose.

She started to whimper and cry as her body continued to lurch through

the rest of its orgasm.

He held back. As she finished her orgasm, he pulled out. She continued

to cry, working into a sobbing mess. He scanned her, but this was just

her recovery from orgasm. She probably would always cry afterwards. 

The guilt at feeling so good was tremendous. She slowly recovered, 


"You best run off and clean up," he told her. There was a bit of blood

showing, the last remnants of her hymen. He grinned as she scampered 


He turned to Judy, who was fingering herself.

"You need attention."

"Not from you, you pervert," she snarled.

He blocked her from orgasm using the symbols. Her lust was growing 

rapidly, bound to peak even if she didn't come. He excited the sense 

of pleasure rising from her clit. 

"Hmm, unngh!" The moan dripped from her as she flopped her head to the


"You won't be able to come until I let you. Yet you will get hotter 

and hotter as each second passes."

"OOOOOHH!" Long dark hair splayed out behind her, making waves of its 


"You'll have to beg for release." He sat down in the chair, relaxing.

"Unnngh!" Her legs straightened out sharply, her hips bucking. 

"Hi," Beth said returning to the room. She came to an abrupt halt,

seeing her mother thrashing about on the floor.

"Sit down Beth. Enjoy the show," Bob directed her to the couch. She 

sat without taking her eyes off the sensual display.

"OOOOOHH GOD!" Neck muscles taut, the facial expressions Beth's mother

used were of hot struggle. Struggle for release. Bob stepped up the 

erotic signals from her chest and groin. He threw in a tingling 

sensation along her neck, where a lover might nibble if so inclined.

"PLEASE! STOP THIS!," Judy shrieked.

"You know how to end this already," he replied.

"GOD! YES, PLEASE COME FUCK ME! OOOOOH," and she slipped into a series

of grunting moans. "PLEASE, I NEED IT. AARRH! FUCK ME, FUCK ME."

Bob laid down, allowing his penis to stand up from his waist.

"Why don't you do the work bitch..."

She crept over to him and swung a leg over him. With the slight but 

soft fingers of her right hand, she guided the organ into her dripping

slit. Dropping quickly into place, she impaled herself upon his cock.

Immediately she began rocking and grinding into him. A moment later, 

Judy had her hands splayed over his chest, head bent forward. Her eyes

fluttered as her hair formed a billowing tent over their heads. 

Bob could see her puffy lips, tongue dashing in and out with each 

panting breath. Drops of sweat rolled down the sweeping breasts, 

swinging before his eyes.

She strove to milk him, trying to clench muscles in her vagina. The

grip was firm, but not real tight. He could feel her tighten and 

loosen along his length. Her hips rolled with more and more urgency as

he tweaked her pleasure centers with even more heightening symbols.

"Annngh! UNNG! Annnngh! UNNG!"

Her patterned moaning and grunting got stronger. She leaned back, 

jutting the ample mammaries upward from her body as she leaned on her 

hands. He reached up and began to twist her nipples. The rest of her 

breast's flesh rolled in waves like human jello.

"Oh!" she exclaimed with every sharp brutalization of her nipples.

Bob felt the rush of semen starting to form in his groin. He released

her artificially restrained orgasm, pinching her nipples as hard as

he could.


Her eyes ground closed, she forced an animalistic grunt through 

clenched teeth and tight lips. Every muscle in her body tightened as 

hard as rock, the only movement she allowed herself was the wild, 

untamed, and violent thrashing of her head. Hair flying every which 

way, she shuddered to the core of her being.

His high pressure surge plunged into the depths of her womanhood. The 

seed flowing freely from his cock. He grunted through two releases of 

semen into her already wet tissue. 

She stiffened again. An aftershock of sex hit her, a mild additional 

orgasm. The roughness of the act was letting go slowly, giving her 

further surges of pleasure up and down. She finally whimpered and 

rolled off Bob. 

Bob smiled at the ceiling in lustful afterwards reflection. 


He took the mother once more, making her enjoy herself far more than

she'd ever imagined possible. He took Beth again too, plunging into

her ass since she wasn't on the pill like her mother. Her humiliation 

fed his desire to a furious flame.

When he left, the mother was set on learning more about how to please

her husband. So she could get more out of the intimacy as well. Beth

was set on teaching Joe everything she'd learned.

He'd been forced to adjust the two so they wouldn't destroy their

lives trying to get their partners involved.

It was very difficult to work around their theological beliefs without

destroying their personalities. He wondered to himself how the thrust

of Christianity had become so opposed to sexuality. The admonishments

against usury were more severe in the Bible. As far as he remembered,

the admonishments against sex were just warnings that it distracted

from worship. Of course, the pleasant little embarrassments gave him

such a thrill.

He didn't want Beth or her mother without those sweet humiliating

sensations they radiated like beacons. He wasn't sure if he'd ever

see the two women again. But he also kept their phone number.

Serendipity. This leisure pursuit was exhilarating.


Peters stood behind Jones. He waited anxiously as Jones and Heather

slipped into the entertainment room Thadeous commonly retired to

after paperwork.

Thadeous was deeply engaged in reading.

Jones pointed to his boss, and nodded to Heather. She nodded back and

began to concentrate. Her brow broke into a sweat, she seemed to

strain, clenching her fists tightly.

"Heather dear," a voice spoke from within the room. "Don't strain 

yourself too hard for Jones just now. He didn't know it wouldn't 


The well dressed leader of the Institute stood, setting a book aside.

"Peters, I'm surprised to see you. I thought you'd have told Jones to 

forget the idea. You knew what would happen."

"I did, but he insisted. I couldn't tell him why. I didn't want the

Spark hurt."

"You go now. Take her with you. Why don't you let her play with her 

toy for a while." The reference to Diane set a smile upon the tech's 

face. The smile worked itself into a grin.

"Thank you sir."

Peters took the red head by the arm and led her away. Diane would 

service him as well, allowing him to play in the brutal manner he 

now liked. Heather would guarantee it.

"Jones. What am I to do about you? You know I don't want to send you

to Jezabel." He sighed audibly. "So you finally noticed I never use a


"Yes sir." Jones sweated profusely. His little coup d'etat blown by 

the most unexpected result. Did this mean the man confronting him was 

a Spark too?

"You shouldn't take long to believe I'm a spark." Almost reading his 

mind. "But it isn't the case, not at all. I just happen to be immune 

to their influence. My uniqueness led to rapid advancement when I 

started work for the Institute.

"No, I'm no Spark. But now you tried to use one to take over from me. 

Again, what do you think I will do?"

"I expect you'll send me off to her."

"Ha!," the immaculately accoutered man laughed. "Nope. Actually I 

can't afford to lose you."

"What then?"

Walking across to the windows, Thadeous breathed out a sigh.

"Look, I know what you want. You want to be able to control people 

like that little whore we just chased out. I'm the man who will give 

it to you. You need to be patient though. First my goals. We will 

control the politicians when we can get the talent to answer to us, 

not some half crazy...," he waved his hand in emphasis, "lunatic like 

the spark who escaped."

"What are you saying?"

"First we have to get the solutions through technology. That's why it 

was so brilliant of you to remember Peters. He worked on the Spark 

simulation project. He's been reforming a research team. They need to 

finish the work. Without interruption from some rogue Spark who could 

tear us all apart, even me."

"So then...?" Jones began to fidget, wondering why he hadn't seen the 

need for the completion of research.

"Just stick with me. Between the two of us we can toss Jezabel aside,

and soon we'll run the whole country. Then you can play with the

little sluts to your hearts content. Give me your loyalty. Just stick

with me!"

"Ah, yeah." He looked out the window, looking at the mountainside 

below. "Okay. I apologize. I'll stick with your game plan, you just 

see to it I get what I want too."


They shook. Jones thought to himself, this is the most human he's ever

acted around me.

Thadeous thought, if I can only hold a team together. It will work



It was a long time...

The trees still stood deep in the mountains of Norway. Trees twisted

with the terrible climatic changes. In a valley below the Glittertinden,

they sheltered well, prospering despite the ages of Ice and Cold.

At their roots, a translucent red stone remained, sometimes mined for

it's unique qualities. The guardians of the trees had permitted it.

The stone was not really precious, simply unusual, and totally useless

to most people.

A handful of the people passing the valley could be heard. Yet even

now, those same people would only discover the skill if it awakened

for them.

The guardians didn't care, the trees didn't care.

From a far corner of this spinning world, a call came. The skill had

reawakened. An interesting change in the scheme of things.

In time, all the cosmos would grind to a halt and collapse in on

itself again. Trees and guardians were watching. Because it was

their purpose.

Must everything have purpose? 

In the deep northern chill, the stars answered with a silent 'no'.



Author's note...

I've been told some of the sex scenes seem tacked on to the plot.

( :) <== note smiley ) In some cases this is true. Some scenes get

written because they seem like fun, then lay to the side waiting for

opportunities to be shoved into the story.

However, the lengthier than expected sex scene in this episode was

deliberately planned to provide at least one secluded plot point for

the 'climatic'  moment. Even though it seems a little

like an intermission. So if you failed to read it, too bad.

Of course the embedded book pun was irresistible. For the totally

clueless, I will drag the shaggy dog out. Ready? Okay, I'll give you

another moment and a form feed.


_A Tree Grows In Brooklyn_

Sorrrrry, I just couldn't help myself, it was so very apropos for a

shaggy dog. Those of you who genuinely saw it coming, please feel

free to grumble amongst yourselves.

Well, I didn't need to beg help to post this anonymously after all.

In the event the anonymous server dies, I will probably cease posting

_The Book_ pending another anonymous method of dissemination.

"Gosh and Golly Batman! What will we do if Blackie stops writing?!"

"It will be a sad day for Gotham City, Boy Wonder."

"Great Green Gizzards! But what will we do!?"

"Oh for Pete's sake, get a grip on yourself, it's not that bad. It's 

not as if people didn't get by without him before."

(Damn actor playing Robin had an eidetic memory too, memorized the 

script entirely in one reading.)

If you've something nice to say, please say it email while the anon

server is working. If you've nothing nice to say, well, thank you for

sharing and we must do lunch some time.


"Nothing could be fine-ah

than the smell of her vagina in the mooooorning,

Nothing could be bettah

than to taste her sweet clitora in the mooooorning,

I wanna jump in deeply every time that I rise,

Humping away madly, looking into her eyes..."

    -I keep thinking this was Dirty John Volpe? (the only man I ever

     heard perform 'Barnacle Bill the Sailor') 1960's bar room ditty?,

     upstate NY 



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