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Archive-name: Control/visitor.txt


Archive-title: Taken by Storm

                                 Part I

   My name is almost impossible to pronounce or explain. So, just call

me "Storm." I'm an Indian, a "half-breed," and I'm an instructor in the

data processing department of the local junior college. My office is

just opposite Lysilph's office. She's the department head, and my boss.

Whenever I look up, I can see her sitting at her desk, her auburn hair

highlighted by the sunlight streaming through her office windows.

   When our office doors are open, I am able to hear her telephone

conversations with friends and associates - at least her half of them.

She speaks of nothing incriminating, or extremely personal. Her voice is

deep and sensual, and leaves me with the impression that everyone she

speaks with is special.

   Whenever she leaves her office, she has to pass my desk. I pause to

watch her walk by. The scent of her perfume lingers long after she has

disappeared from view. She always appears businesslike, always perfectly

dressed; but, beneath it all, I sense a femininity that she just can't


   On several occasions, I have attempted to start conversations with my

lovely supervisor. Each time she cuts me short with an "I'm too busy to

talk just now" or "Maybe later, Storm. Maybe later." But the hinted at

"later" never seems to arrive. She once suggested that "perhaps you need

a little more to do, if you have time enough to chat!"

   I become obsessed with Lysilph. I daydream of her in my arms: Lysilph

in my bed, naked except for thigh-high black lace stockings; Lysilph in

the shower, dressed in a sheer nylon nightgown; Lysilph kneeling before

me, dressed in black satin bra and panties, begging me to love her;

Lysilph on my arm as I stride into a fine restaurant, quiet and adoring;

Lysilph beside me in my restored Volvo, the hem of her skirt pulled to

her crotch exposing dark stockings and white thighs, her hand massaging

my penis through my trousers.

   My work, strangely enough, does not suffer. It even seems to improve.

I work my frustrations off by paying more attention to detail and to the

technical aspects of my job. The superior work I am doing draws

Lysilph's notice. "The security system you devised for the proprietary

files was superb, Storm. I'm very pleased with it. And you." She smiles.

   "How about a coffee and croissant to celebrate then, Boss?"

   "Sorry. No time. Maybe later," the smile vanishes. She turns and

strides away. I watch the subtle sway of her hips and the movement of

her full buttocks under the skirt of her suit as she returns to her


   My obsession grows.

   I follow her home one evening, and park in a tree line just South of

her house. I watch her through the windows with my binoculars as she

goes about her evening activities. I even follow her to the mall on her

lunch hour, and observe her purchases from a distance.

   As a result, I become as familiar with her habits as I am with my

own. For instance: She prefers to shop at Victoria's Secret. She likes

fine sherry and the music of Andrew Lloyd Webber. And she loves to read.

Every evening after dinner, she turns on the stereo and sits down in

front of a fire with a book and a glass of sherry. When she becomes

drowsy, she sets the timer to turn off the stereo, and goes upstairs to

undress for bed.

   My obsession grows. And, with it, a plan. A long weekend is coming

up. I know from earlier conversations that Lysilph has no plans for the


   I have plans, though.

   I send her, anonymously, a dozen blood red roses, Lloyd Webber's new

recording of "Aspects of Love," and a bottle of sherry. The note

accompanying my gifts reads, "You deserve a very special weekend. Pamper

yourself. Enjoy!" and is signed, "D.L. - An Admirer."

                                 * * *


                             TAKEN BY STORM

                                Part II

   Her Victorian house sits at the end of a two lane country road. The

nearest neighbor is at least a half mile away. I nose the P1800 into the

grove of pine trees on the dark side of her property. Here, near the

river, it is be hidden from the sight of anyone approaching the house.

   Except for the glow of firelight in the downstairs windows, the house

seems deserted. Nevertheless, I approachecautiously. It won't do to

attract her attention now. I stand on tiptoe and peer in the sitting

room window. At the far end of the room, a door opens. Lysilph is

briefly outlined in the doorway. She pauses, as if she were aware of my

presence outside the house. The light from the room behind her

illuminates the lush curves of her body, silhouetting her against her

clothes. I inhale sharply. She is lovely. I draw back from the window,

far enough that she can not see me, yet I can still command a view of

the entire room.

   She closes the door behind her and walks to the couch. This time the

fire paints her curves in shadows on the clothing she wears. The effect

vanishes as she turns on the reading lamp and sits down. The glass of

sherry she carries is placed on the wine table beside the couch, and she

settles in for her evening of reading.

   I return to my car to wait.

   I waken with a start. Glancing at my watch, I find that I has been

asleep for a little over two hours. I yawn, stretch and leans between

the front seats to remove a small, nylon bag from behind the passenger's

seat. I exit the car and makes my way silently toward the house.

   I peer once more into the room. The fire has died down, but the

reading lamp provides enough light that the entire scene is exposed to

my eyes. The drugged sherry I sent her has taken effect. Lysilph has

fallen asleep, and the book has fallen from her hands.

   I tap lightly on the window. She doesn't stir. I tap harder, then

harder still. She sleeps soundly, unaware of my insistent knocking.

   I make my way to the rear of the house. The back door of the old

house isn't locked. The door opens silently and I enters the darkened

kitchen. I stand for a few moments while my eyes become accustomed to

the lack of light.

   The sound of the music guides me through the darkened rooms to

Lysilph's sitting room. She sleeps soundly. Her breasts push against her

high-necked blouse with each inhalation. "Lysilph," I whisper. She

doesn't stir. "Lysilph?" This time in a conversational voice. No

response. "Lysilph!" I say loudly. She moans softly and shifts on the

couch. I shake her shoulder. "Wake up, Lysilph!" Her eyes flutter, open,

gaze unfocused toward me, and immediately close. She moans again and

sinks deeper into her drugged dream state.

   I chuckle. "Great! She's really under. Now let's just see if this

hypnotic stuff really works!"

   "Lysilph, you are asleep now. You are in a deep sleep - deeper than

any sleep you've ever experienced. When you waken, you will remember

only that you have had a long, relaxing sleep. During your sleep, you

will have several erotic dreams which excite and fulfill you. I am your

'Demon Lover' and I am here to give you everything you have always

wanted. I will tell you what to do and what to say, and you will do and

say as I ask. It is what you want, Lysilph. And I know what you want,

what is best for you. When you hear the words 'Demon Lover,' you will

relax. You will feel safe. You will feel wanted, and aroused. You will

want to please your 'Demon Lover' and to have me please you." I repeat

my instructions several times in a soft, even voice. "Do you


   The drugged beauty's answer is almost too low for me to hear. i do

hear her muttered "Yes." I think I also hear her murmur, "Please love


   I stand back to look at the unconscious woman. I think of it

as "taking inventory of the goodies."

   She sits on the couch, head back against the high cushions, mouth

slightly open. Her white teeth and pink tongue are visible between her

full lips. Her left hand lays in her lap, curled into a loose fist. The

right has fallen to her side and lays on the couch palm up. She has

dressed as if she were expecting me -- or expecting someone. She wears a

beautiful ruffled silk blouse, with long sleeves and ruffled French

cuffs. It is buttoned to the throat, and the stand-up collar frames her

lovely neck. A dark brassiere is barely discernible through the white

silk. Her sarong wrap skirt is black silk, soft and clinging, reaching

to mid-calf. When she shifted on the couch, she had drawn her left foot

back towards the couch. Her skirt has fallen away exposing her extended

right leg to the thigh. She wears a dark blue satin slip that stretches

tightly across her thighs. Beneath the slip, I can make out the outline

of a garter strap. The gunmetal blue coloured material covering those

long legs are stockings, and silk, not nylon pantyhose. Her feet are

encased in high-heeled shoes of a darker gunmetal blue.

   I pick up the book that had fallen to the floor when she fell asleep.

"The Story of O" by the Marquis deSade, a classic of sado- masochism,

bondage and discipline. I didn't know that about her! What new

challenges this represented! And I chuckle again.

   She stirs then, surprising me. "Is someone there?"

   "Just me, Lysilph. Just your 'Demon Lover.'" I pour some of the

drugged sherry into her glass and hold it to her lips. "Here, Lover.

Drink a little wine. It'll relax you."

   She drinks from the glass as I bid her. She settles once more

against the cushions of the couch.

   I wait until her breathing becomes regular, then stand. "I'll give

you some time to relax, Lysilph. I want to explore, anyway."

   I remove my shoes and pads through the house as silently as a cat on


   I have already seen the kitchen. And the "sitting room," where

Lysilph "sits" waiting for my return. My voyage of discovery takes me

through the living room, the dining room, the foyer and front hallway, a

small "powder room," and a very business-like den.

   The house had obviously belonged to her father, or at least to some

male. There are unmistakable masculine touches everywhere. Especially in

the room I can not help but thinking of as "The Library." A fire burns

in the fireplace here, also, illuminating the floor-to-ceiling bookcases

and the hundreds of volumes in them. I examine several volumes and am

surprised to find an extensive selection of so-called pornographic

literature. All the "classics" are here, and some I have never seen or

even heard of before. There are illustrated sex manuals, handbooks on

erotic art, photo essays on the most beautiful women I have ever seen.

There are books on lingerie, and movie stars, and housewives and

schoolgirls and office workers. Each and every one is lavishly

illustrated, many in colour. There are books on bondage and discipline,

sadism and masochism, pinups, amateur "action" books. There are novels

and volumes of poetry. Everything I, or any other libertine, could

imagine or hope for is represented.

   Reluctantly, I leave the library and turn my attention to the upper

floor. Here there are four bedrooms, two on either side of the hall, and

a large bath at the far end.

   Three of the bedrooms are simply furnished. Each of the three holds a

large bed, a small dresser and a nightstand with a lamp and an FM radio.

Two of the rooms contain high-backed reading chairs and floorlamps. The

third holds a small table and two straight-backed chairs.

   The fourth is obviously Lysiplh's bedroom, and is ample evidence of

the barely repressed femininity that I knew existed. Her bed is an

island of white lace and red satin in the center of the room, oriented

with the foot of the bed towards the door. A full moon shines through

the windows at the head of the bed illuminating the room. The bed is

flanked by an antique double dresser on one side and a vanity on the

other. Huge mirrors on both vanity and dresser provide the room with an

illusion of an endless precession of beds, each smaller than the next,

fading into infinity. The walls are decorated with Victorian prints of

flowers and ladies. Hidden speakers repeat the music from the room in

which Lysilph lays in drugged slumber.

   I enter the room and peers at the first picture. A raven- tressed

Gibson Girl cringes as a villain in a Mourning Coat hovers over her. I

move to the next picture. The same girl is now firmly in the villain's

grasp. The villain holds her to him with his left arm while he rips her

bodice from her with his right. The next picture depicts the hapless

girl, bodice in tatters, lying on the bed. Her skirts are in disarray

exposing long, stockinged limbs. Succeeding pictures tell the tale. The

girl, now tied to the bed's jutting posts, is partially stripped and

repeatedly raped by the villain. In the final picture, the villain

stands over the girl as she gazes lovingly up at him. She is smiling.

   "Now there's something I didn't know about the untouchable Lysilph."

I continue my examination of her room.

   I open the drawers of the dresser. I find two are filled with satin

and silk underwear - brassierres, panties, slips, half slips, teddies,

bustiers and garterbelts. Red and black and blue and champagne and white

-- all colours of the rainbow and all shades of the colours. One by one,

I examine each piece of lingerie, lifting them to my nose and inhaling

her scent and the lingering traces of her perfume. Opening another

drawer, I find stockings of silk and nylon, seamed and seamless, plain

and patterned. Blouses, sweaters, socks and "sensible" clothing fill the

remaining seven drawers.

   The vanity has only four small drawers. These are filled with small,

personal items. Nothing of interest, at least to me. But the top of the

vanity is covered with perfumes, and lipsticks, and fingernail polishes,

and eye shadow -- all the colours and smells that make "a woman" into

"The Woman." And these do intrigue me. I can imagine the erotic

sensations I will experience as I put eyeshadow and lipstick upon the

unconscious, helpless beauty. My breathing quickens and my heart pounds

in my chest.

   I turn to her closet, opening the door and glancing inside. I find

the typical suits and skirts and blouses and sensible business attire -

I've seen her daily in her "power" suit of Navy blue, white blouse and

"man's" tie. Nestled among the "sensible" attire are several pieces of

rather suggestive clothing including a black satin "After Eight" dress

with an extremely low neckline and a skirt slit almost to the waist.

There are also several nightgowns and peignoirs of silk and satin hang

here as well. The dichotomy I discover in her room amuses me: The

surface view is one of the deadly efficient business woman, while

beneath the harsh surface an entirely different story of hidden

femininity emerges. Apparently, she is driven by the same passions and

forces that drive me. I close the door.

                                 * * *


                             TAKEN BY STORM

                                Part III

   I return to the sitting room. Lysilph has not moved. She sleeps

soundly as I approach her and touch her cheek. "Ummm," a small moan

sounds deep in Lysilph's throat.

   I sit on the couch next to the sleeping beauty. My right hand travels

lightly over her face. My fingers brush her eyes, and her cheeks.

Slowly, tentatively, I move my fingers over her full, sensuous lips.

With index and middle fingers, I trace the outline of them. I take her

chin between the thumb and fingers of my hand. Exerting pressure, I draw

her chin down until her mouth is fully open. She sleeps on. Boldly,

then, I touch her teeth. I trace the outline of her teeth, sliding my

fingers over them and under her lips. Around her mouth my fingers move,

feeling each lovely tooth. Now I moves to her tongue. I touch the tip of

it. Another moan from the unconscious woman. I take the tip of her

tongue between two fingers and play with it. I stroke it, and pull on it

gently. I move it from side to side within the beauty's mouth, roiling

it between my fingers, and massaging it as I would a small moist penis.

Her mouth fascinates me and I spend several minutes playing with it,

with her tongue and teeth. I bend closer to her and run my tongue over

her lips. I lick the exposed tip of her tongue. I nibble on her lips and

tongue, gently. Working up my nerve, daring hardly to breathe, I place

my mouth over hers. I inhale her breath, sucking it deep into my own

lungs. I kiss her. I run my tongue over her teeth and over her tongue.

Her lack of response excites me, and I kiss her harder, tongue thrusting

deep past hers into her throat. Her breath catches and she moans again.

But she still doesn't waken.

   During the entire time, Lysilph neither moves nor responds - aside

from the little moans. I have not touched her, except for her face

and mouth, of course. It is time for the next phase.

   I sit back, drawing away from the drugged woman. Her breathing is

slow and regular. For several minutes, I watch the rise and fall of her

small breasts beneath the white silk. I reach out and gently cup the

nearest one. My fingers squeeze, and move over the lacy bra beneath the

blouse. Gently, insistently, my fingers search her breasts. First one,

then the other. My fingers seek, and find, the nipples of those breasts.

Through the silk of her blouse and the lace of her bra, I rub them and

lightly pinch them. The woman's body, as if with a mind of its own,

responds. The nipples harden, pushing impudently against bra and blouse.

My hand moves to the top button of Lysilph's blouse. One button after

another surrenders to my attack. The blouse is open to her waist. I

slide my hand into the open blouse, against the sleeping beauty's neck

and upper chest. Her skin is smooth, very smooth, and warm. My hand

moves lower, widening the opening of the blouse, and exposing the lacy

half-bra that strives vainly to protect her breasts from the intruding

fingers. Questing fingers, sliding under the lacy cups, find the warm

smooth breast beneath. And, following the curve of breast, my fingers

find and capture the distended nipple. As I had her tongue, I play with

Lysilph's nipples. I pull and twist, pinching and pushing. They respond

by thrusting outwards, stiffening and extending, infused with the sudden

rush of blood my invading fingers encourage.

   She shifts and presses her breasts against my raiding hands. Her

skirt opens further. I reach down and open the skirt fully, spreading it

to either side of my captive. I gently run a hand down her stomach to

her abdomen. My fingers flutter against her sweet curves, and slide down

to press into her panty-covered mound. I grasp the lacy hem of her slip

and pushes it up her thighs. I raise her hips, permitting me to raise

the satin slip higher, exposing her Navy silk panties.

   Lysilph's head begins to move from side to side, her breathing

quickens. She moans. "Shhh. My Lovely One, it's only your 'Demon Lover.'

This is what you want, what you dreamed of. Relax, Sweet One. Relax and

dream on."

   I sit back and watch, waiting. Lysilph sleeps on, head back and mouth

open. Her pink tongue licks her lips, then rests once more against her

lower lip. Her blouse is open to the waist, now, and her bra is exposed.

Her breasts rise and fell with her breathing. The nipple of her right

breast is visible above the lace of her bra, still distended with her

unconscious arousal. The black silk of her long skirt frames her hips.

The blue satin slip is raised above her crotch exposing blue panties and

garterbelt. Long, lace-topped silk stockings hug her thighs. What an

erotic picture the helpless beauty makes!

   I kneel between her legs. I stare at the silken covered mound of her

vulva. The panties are silk, and dark blue. They are cut high on her

hips, and lavishly adorned with lace along the sides. I run my hand over

the panties. I bend and smell the perfume rising from Lysiplh's thighs.

As my face approaches the sweet juncture of her thighs, the perfume

mingles with the musky smell of the woman. I place my face in the sweet

junction, shifting her legs slightly to accomodate me. I inhale her

scent. My tongue flicks out and licks her through the material of her

panties. I press my face firmly into her, and nip the lips of her vulva

with my teeth. Her body stiffens. I hear the intake of her breath. Her

hips move slightly. As I continue biting and licking her through the

silk, she raises her hips and presses her vulva against my questing

lips. "Shhh, Ltsilph. It's okay. It's your 'Demon Lover.'" She relaxes,

but continues to press against me as I continue to lick and nibble at

the sweet, silken wrapped treasures. My hands move over her thighs and

stocking clad legs, stroking and kneading the soft flesh.

   Again, I withdraw my ministrations and gaze down at the helpless

beauty. Her mouth is open, and she breathes heavily through it. Her

tongue flutters, and licks her lips. The nipple of her exposed breast

seems to wink at me, enticing me, begging for my attentions. Her skirt

frames her exposed loins. The crotch of her panties, moist with his

saliva and her juices, hug and emphasize the lips of her vulnerable sex.

The dark stockings contrast vividly with her white thighs. She is

totally exposed, totally helpless, totally mine! "Maybe later" is NOW!

                                 * * *


                             TAKEN BY STORM

                                Part IV

   I pick up the glass, empty now, and the half full bottle of sherry

and carries them up to her room. I pour another glass of the drugged

sherry for her - just in case.

   Returning to the sitting room, I approach the drugged woman. I bend

and pull her slip down to her knees. I rearrange her open skirt, folding

the halves back around legs and thighs, as if attempting to protect her

modesty. I place my left arm under her right arm and around her

shoulders; my left hand cups her left breast. My right arm slides

beneath her legs. Straightening, I lift the unconscious woman in my

arms. Her arms fall loosely to her sides, fingers pointing to the floor.

Her head falls back exposing her long, slender throat. Her breasts are

thrust into prominence. I stand in silent admiration. The fingers of my

left hand squeeze her breast, and seek the nipple. Once again, I coax

and tease the exposed nipple into tumenescence. I bends my head and take

the nipple into my mouth. I lave it with my tongue and nip it, none too

gently this time, with my teeth. Lysilph moans but still does not waken.

I shift her in my arms, and move my face to hers. My tongue licks her

lips, and her teeth, and her exposed tongue. I grip her tongue with my

teeth and pull it into my mouth. I suck on her tongue, roiling it about

in my own mouth and maneuvering it with my tongue and teeth. Her

unresponsiveness excites me even more. I swallow the saliva from her

mouth, feasting upon it as I would nectar from a soft moist flower. I

inhale her breath. I draws it from her open mouth with my own and taste

her, swallowing her essence, her very soul.

   "Enough!" I straighten and carry Lysilph up the stairs to her

bedroom. I place the body of the unresisting woman on the red satin

sheets. I remove my shirt and my trousers. Clad only in red nylon jockey

shorts, I sit on the edge of the bed. Lysilph lies before me, her skirt

once again fallen open exposing the Navy blue slip. Her arms are at her

sides, bent slightly. I lean over her and whisper her name. "Lysilph, it

is your 'Demon Lover.' Do you want me to stay with you?"

   She murmurs something, but I can not make it out. "Louder, Lysilph.

I can't hear you."

   "Stay with me. Love me. Oh, love me!"

   "Will you do what I ask? Will you please me?"

   "Oh, yesss." The "yes" is sibilant, and drawn out. "Oh, please, love


   "Turn over, Lysilph. I want to see your ass. I want to play with it,

and stroke it, and kiss it."

   The beauty tries to turn over, but she hasn't full control of her

motor activities. I help her, moving her arms, placing them at either

side of her head. I turn her head to face me.

   Leaning down, I pull the sides of her unbottoned blouse from under

her body. I reach under her and squeezes her breasts. A sigh escapes her

lips. I pull the hem of her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt and

slide it up her back, exposing the catch of her bra. I unfasten the

catch and, taking one end of the strap in my hand, pull the cloth

roughly from under her. The action draws a deep moan from Lysilph. I

slide my hands under the upper body of the unconscious woman and massage

her breasts, stroking and squeezing. Eventually Lysilph relaxes.

   I move my attention to the wrap around skirt. Lifting her hips

slightly, I pull both halves of the skirt from under Lysilph. I spread

the skirt across her body and to either side. Sliding my hands up under

the skirt, I find the waistband of the half slip. Slowly I pull the

satin down her legs, and off over her feet. Briefly I hold the garment

to my nose. I inhale her scent, then toss the slip into the corner of

the room.

   I kneel between the unconscious woman's legs, spreading them slightly

as I lean forward. My hands start at her ankles and gently move up her

legs. I move the hem of her silk skirt up, past her knees, to her hips

and finally to her waist. The blue panties are spread across her rounded

buttocks. My hands mold the panties to her buttocks as I knead them and

run my hands over their firm roundness. I slide a hand up to her waist

and insert it under the waistband of her panties. My fingers search

downward, into the cleft formed by the two perfect globes. I rub the

cleft gently, insistently. My finger teases the cleft, searching for and

finding the tight hole of her anus. I press a finger against it,

massaging her in a circular motion. My finger presses into her. I

withdraw it. I raise my hand to my mouth and moisten my fingers. Again,

I seek the sweet hole. My finger slides in with less resistance due to

the moisture I have supplied. I press it deeper into her. She squirms,

tries to draw her ass away from the intruder. "Shh. It's your 'Demon

Lover' and I'm giving you what you have wanted for such a long, long

time." She relaxes, then. Her hips move slightly from side to side, then

press back against my hand, drawing my finger deeper inside her. My

ministrations continue for several minutes - my finger slides into and

out of her puckered hole. My breathing quickens as her movements become

more wanton, more insistent.

   I remove my finger from her and grasps the wistband of her panties.

Slowly, as my other hand joins the first, I draw the panties down off

her hips. I have to move from between her legs. I draw her legs closer

together and continue to remove her panties. As they come free of her

legs and feet, I press them to my face. They are moist with her juices,

and her musky smell fills my nostrils. My tongue darts forward, and I

can taste her on the material. The panties quickly join bra and slip on

the floor.

   I move to the head of the bed and sits near her shoulder. Slowly, I

reach down and turn Lysilph partly onto her side. She turns bonelessly,

drugged into a deep sleep, unaware of what is happening now. I pause,

stand, and remove the remainder of my clothing. Naked now, I resume my

seat at her shoulder. My erect penis points towards the sleeping woman's

parted lips. I inch closer. My penis now touches her full lips. With one

hand I guide the glans of my erect organ around her lips, tracing them.

From time to time, I probe against her teeth with my penis, never quite

forcing, always withdrawing as her mouth opens slightly. Her tongue

licks her lips. I grasp her hair and pull her face to me, to my crotch.

My engorged penis pushes between her lips and into her slack mouth. I

moves my hips back and forth fucking the drugged woman's mouth, stopping

just shy of my orgasm.

   I push Lysilph over onto her back. Her breasts rise and fall, nipples

erect and pointing at the ceiling. I spread the blouse once more to

either side of her, and do the same with her black silk skirt. What a

gorgeous view! White silk blouse, blue stockings and black silk skirt on

red, satin sheets. Auburn hair fanned out and framing her head on the

red pillow. Eyes closed, lips parted and tongue peeking shyly out of her

mouth. At her crotch, an abundance of auburn hair guards the entrance to

her vagina. "My God," I think, "her pussy is absolutely covered with the

longest hair I have ever seen on a woman!"

   And again I pause. I rise from the bed and walks down the hall to the

bathroom. I drink a glass of water, urinate, and return to the

unconscious woman's room.

                                 * * *


                             TAKEN BY STORM

                                 Part V

   I approach the vanity. I remove a bottle of bright red nail polish

and a makeup kit and take them to the bed. I open the nail polish. One

by one, I paint the sleeping woman's fingernails. Opening the makeup

kit, I begin to apply colour to Lysilph's eyelids. Carefully, tenderly,

I shade several shades of blue and lavendar into intriguing accents to

each eye. Finishing touches are supplied with a dark blue makeup pencil.

I quickly brush a rosey blush onto her cheeks and skillfully blend it

in. Finally, selecting a tube of bright red lipstick, I deftly apply it

to her lips. I take my time, delighting in maneuvering the sleeping

beauty's face and mouth. When I finish, she is an erotic fantasy in the


   My passion is almost uncontrollable. I must have this woman now.

Right now. I can wait no longer. Nor will I.

   I grasp her left ankle and pull her leg outward. I move the foot back

until her leg is bent and her knee is pointing upward towards the

ceiling. I turn my attention to her right leg and do the same with it,

until she is lying there, wantonly exposed. With her knees up and her

legs opened, her vulva is exposed to my gaze. I drop my face between her

legs and rub my nose over the furred lips. I drink in her smell. My

tongue darts out, licks, outlines the lips of her sex. My teeth nip at

her labia, pulling on each, moving them as my tongue penetrates her

vagina. My tongue darts in and out, laving her inner lips and extracting

her juices. She moans and moves her hips against my mouth, seeking to

draw my tongue even deeper within her. I press my face deep into the

furred vee. I suck her labia into my mouth, licking them with my tongue,

and nipping them lightly with my teeth. I bite harder, drawing a louder

moan from the drugged woman's throat. Her juices flow copiously.

   I withdraw. She gasps at the sudden cessation as I sit up. Her eyes

try to open. Unfocused, they close once more.

   I lower my body to hers. One hand guides my erection to the lips of

her vulva. I do not penetrate her. Not just yet. My hands attack her

breasts. I squeeze and pull them. I even go so far as to slap them,

first one then the other. The pain draws another moan from Lysilph, but

she does not arouse from her drugged sleep. My fingers tighten on her

nipples. I twist them. I pull them. I roll the distended buds between my

fingers. My head lowers as my mouth closes over a breast. I suck the

nipple deep into my mouth. I bite on the nipple. Not too hard; not hard

enough to awaken her. She moans again, now. Her moans are almost

continuous, coming from deep within her throat. I suck on each breast,

each nipple. I alternate my attentions between the pair. As my lips

leave one seeking the other, my fingers replace them. My assault by

fingers and and lips continue.

   Lysilph's small breasts excite me. I shift my position, kneeling on

the bed, astride her hips. I reach down and pull the drugged beauty to a

sitting position. Her head falls back and her arms dangle bonelessly at

her sides. I bend and kiss the slack lips, again plunging my tongue deep

into the throat of the woman held before him. My erection nudges her

soft stomach. As I release her lips, her mouth remains open and

glistening. I shift my hold, supporting her with one hand behind her

shoulders. With the other hand I guide my penis to her breasts. My

breathing becomes labored as I guide my organ over her breasts, pushing

it against and into the softness of her breasts. Resting my member

between her breasts, I move my hand over one breast and press it against

the other, forming a warm tunnel, and capturing my thrusting organ. I

plunge back and forth in the channel between her soft breasts until I

approach release. I slow, stop. Once again I guide the tip of my organ

against her nipple. I thrust, attempting to push her nipple back inside

her breast. She moans. I draw the glans of my penis around her nipple,

outlining it, manipulating it, pushing it until it glistens with my

juices. I shift slightly, allowing my organ to trail down her belly. I

bend, and take the glistening nipple in his mouth. I taste myself on

her and am immediate danger of release.

   Reluctantly, I move from my sitting position and off to one side. A

whimper escapes from the unconscious woman. I take her hand in mine and

move it down between her legs. Holding my hand over hers, I move her

hand back and forth. My fingers press hers into her cunt. I press her

middle finger deep inside her and move her hand back and forth, sliding

her finger in and out. I continue masturbating her with her own hand and

fingers until her unconscious reflexes take control and she begins to

administer to her own needs. "Careful, Lysilph. Slowly. You don't want

to cum yet. You want to prolong it until you can't stand it any longer.

Your 'Demon Lover' wants it that way."

   I slide my body further up hers until, once again, my penis is even

with her lips. I wrap one hand in her lustrous hair and turn her head to

face me as I rise up onto my knees. With the hand in her hair I bring

her head towards me while with the other I bring my hardened cock to her

lips. As I rest my penis at the entrance to her mouth, I relase my hold

on it and shift my hand to her face. I gently open her mouth, and push

my penis into the moist tunnel. Her tongue moves reflexively against the

invading organ. I press into her mouth until my glans rests against the

back of her throat. I withdraw until I am once again resting just on her

lips. And again I thrust slowly into her mouth. All the time, I hold her

head steady, my hand wrapped in her long, auburn hair. As I fuck her

face, I look the length of her body. Her breasts move slightly with the

motion of her head, her hand is still at her pussy, fingers moving

slowly in and out in unconscious reflex. Her long legs are fully

exposed, clad in thigh high stockings attached to her garter belt. The

blue shoes with their spiked heels are still on her feet. My climax

builds and I can hold it back no longer. I stop thrusting into her face

and move her head back and forth on my penis. I continue to survey her

face and body. Shudders wrack my body as my organ unburdens itself and

spurts my hot seed into Lysilph's unresisting mouth. She gags, but

swallows the warm salty liquid in an unconscious relflex action. I hold

her face to my crotch until the last drop has been wrung from me. I gaze

down at the unconscious slut the whole time, marvelling in the beauty of

her face, her slack and unresisting body. Spent, I drop her head to the


   I bend and kiss her slack mouth, licking my juices from her lips.

"Just a little rest, Sweet One, and we will begin again."

   I lie down beside her and pull her to me. Her head rests on my

shoulder and my left hand squeezes her breast. The other snakes down

over her hips, across her abdomen, and into the sweet junction of her

thighs. I cup her vulva, fingers stroking lightly.

                                 * * *


                             TAKEN BY STORM

                                Part VI

   It isn't long before I feel the familiar stirring in my groin. My

fingers play over the furred lips of her vulva. I part them and insert

my finger past the guardian labia. I stroke her, back and forth. Finding

her clitoris, I grasp it and begin to stroke it and pull upon it. She

sighs. She moans and pushes against my fingers. My left hand rises

across her breasts, up her throat, to her half-open mouth. I trace the

outline of her lips and once again seek her tongue. As the fingers of my

right hand stroke her nether lips and delve into her warm recessess, so

my left hand acts upon her mouth. Her lips close in reflex, and she

begins to lick and suck my fingers - repeating the actions I had forced

upon her earlier. Her hips press back into my erection as my fingers

work in and out of her vagina.

   I whisper in her ear, licking its inner recesses as I do, "It is your

'Demon Lover,' Lysilph. I want you. I want you again! I will have you.

It is what you want, slut." Her acquiescing moan is all the reply I

need, or want. My fingers, both in her mouth and in her cunt, move

insistently. "Your 'Demon Lover' wants your ass, Slut. Move your ass

onto my cock. Press it into your tight channel. Do it, Slut!"

   Slowly she moves her arm behind her and takes my erection. She

strokes it briefly, and brings the swollen glans to her ass. Pressing

back against me, the drug-dominated beauty guides me to the tight hole,

and moves the glans back and forth between her asscheeks. My fluids

provide all the lubrication necessary for penetration. I increases the

pressure by hunching my hips forward. The tight elastic gives way and I

plunge into her. A sound, more scream than moan, escapes her lips as I


   "It is what you want, Lysilph. Relax. You have asked your 'Demon

Lover' to fuck your ass. That is what I'm doing, Slut. Nothing more nor

less than what you have asked for. Do you want me to quit? Do you want

to make your 'Demon Lover' unhappy?"

   "Ungh. No. Oh, no! Please. Don't. Stop." Her reply is slow and

hesitant. Muffled by the action of my fingers in her mouth, barely


   "Shh. Sleep, Lysilph. Don't waken. Just enjoy." And she sleeps on,

unresisting, compliant.

   I ravish her completely, raping all three orifices simultaneously.

Fingers of my left hand invade her mouth and rape her tongue. Fingers of

my right hand invade her cunt and rape her vagina. My long, swollen cock

rapes her ass. I twist and manipulate her body as my attack continues. I

feel the sperm rising in my organ, and arch my back, pressing my

throbbing penis deep within her anal opening. The sperm shoots into the

warm tight channel and I pull her hips tighter against me. My lips and

tongue attack her ear, my fingers thrust into her mouth and into her

pussy. The intensity of my climax threatens to render me unconscious. I

collapse against Lysilph's back. My fingers remain in the warm orifices,

moving slightly in a post-coital tenderness. My penis, remaining inside

the anal channel of my unresisting victim, grows flaccid. I slip into a

sated slumber.

   I return from the bathroom. I carrys a washcloth, warm and wet.

Bending over the bed, I turn the sleeping woman onto her back. I sponge

off Lysilph's face and neck. I move down her body and clean her ass and

pussy, removing the evidence of my actions, and her unconscious

responses, from her body. She stirs and tries to sit up.

   "What?" she moans.

   "Here, Lysilph. Drink this. Your 'Demon Lover' has prepared it

specially for you!" I hold the glass of drugged sherry to her lips.

Completely willing and obediant to the suggestions I had implanted in

her earlier, and triggered by the 'Demon Lover' phrase, the helpless

woman drinks deeply of the sherry. "That's good. Finish it all, Slut!"

and I tilt the glass forcing her to drink rapidily. She empties the

glass as if it were water. "Sleep, Slut! I'll be back." I push the

unresisting woman back to the bed and leave the room.

   Once again I enter the room. I have showered and am refreshed and

ready, as evidenced by my jutting prick, for another session with my


                                 * * *


                             TAKEN BY STORM

                                Part VII

   I remove two pairs of stockings from the dresser and cross to the

bed. Taking her left wrist in one hand, I tie it to the bedpost above

her head. Her right wrist receives the same treatment. She is tightly

bound, both arms extended above her head. Her breasts, exposed, are

thrust into prominence. Slowly and carefully, I raise her as far as her

bonds permit, and slip a white satin and lace half bra around her. I

fasten the front closure and gently place each breast in its supporting

cup. The lacy bra is cut to thrust the upper half of her breasts into

prominence. Her aureoles show above the lace, and a hint of erect nipple

pushes against the soft prison. I pull the halves of her blouse together

and button it to her neck. I take a pair of white satin and lace panties

from the dresser and lovingly draw them up her long legs. Lifting her

hips, I pull them into place and make sure they fit properly - I run my

hands over her pussy and ass, smoothing the panties into place and

"copping a feel" at the same time. Finally, I move her legs closer

together and draw the long silk skirt around her. Except for her tied

arms, Lysilph looks as if she had fallen asleep waiting for her lover to

find her.

   I remove a hairbrush from the dresser and once more approach the bed.

I deftly brush the auburn hair for many minutes, and carefully arrange

it around her head, framing her lovely face.

   I stand up and admire my handiwork. "Hmm, your makeup is a mess,

Slut!" I again make up her face, her eyes, her lips. The eyeshadow is

darker now, with a deeper purple tinge to it, although the blue

predominates. I carefully outline upper and lower eyelids with dark blue

eyeliner. Her brows are carefully shaped and colored with a deep brown

eyebrow pencil. I impart a wicked, pointed arch to them. I pay

particular attention to her sensuous, slack mouth. A deep, bloodred

lipstick accentuates the fullness of her lips. I take time, once again,

to play with her mouth and tongue. I kiss her, drawing her limp tongue

into my own mouth and sucking deeply on it. As I play with her mouth and

tongue, I stroke myself to full erection. I stop short of climax.

   "Time enough for that, later."

   Taking the second pair of stockings, I lovingly tie each ankle to a

bedpost. I stare at the now bound beauty.

   Lysilph, fully dressed, lies spreadeagled on her bed. The red satin

sheets provide an erotic frame for the black and white bound beauty. Her

white silk blouse is again buttoned to the neck. Her black silk skirt

has been pulled to her calves, but is slightly open from her legs being

spread as I tied them. I can see the blue silk stocking the full length

of one leg and a hint of white satin panties. I bend and place the high

heels back on her feet. From the jewel box on the vanity I select a long

strand of pearls. I raises Lysilph's head and fasten the pearls around

her neck. A matching pair of earrings soon complete the erotic picture

of a totally bound and helpless Victorian beauty.

                                 * * *


                             TAKEN BY STORM

                               Part VIII

   I sit down on the bed beside Lysilph. My hands follow the clothed

curves of her body. I am delighted with the feel of her silk blouse

sliding over the satin bra as I stroke her breasts. I cup and squeeze

each breast. My fingers search for her hidden nipples. I find them, and

pinch them through the multiple layers of cloth. I hear her sharp intake

of breath, and smile as her nipples distend. Her femininity can not be

denied, even asleep or unconscious. She is decidedly a sexy and a sexual


   I slide my hands to her waist, her small waist. It seems to me I can

span her waist with my hands. I pass a hand over her slightly rounded

stomach. I feel the movement of her breathing as I caress the silken

covered flesh. My eyes never leave her face, relaxed and unanimated as

she sleeps her drugged sleep.

   I pass my hands down over her hips. Her hips swell out from her waist

dramatically, round and full, tapering into long, luscious legs. Her

charms are hidden from my view by the soft, black silk skirt -- except,

that is, for the stocking clad leg exposed when I tied her ankles to the

foot of the bed. I run my hands over her abdomen and across her hips. I

cup her buttocks and raise her hips off the bed. Her skirt opens and

falls away and her white panty-covered loins are exposed. I lower her to

the bed and places a hand on the silken mound before me. My fingers

tighten, and I cup her vulva through her panties. My fingers press the

material of her panties into her vulva, and I move my fingers up and

down her cleft. I press the silk into her cleft until I can feel her

clitoris through the material. Once more, I assail the tiny bud,

stroking and coaxing it into full erection. I bend and, placing my face

full into her silken clad vee, nip gently at her clitoris. Again I am

rewarded with her moans and intake of breath.

   I stroke my erection slowly, watching the bound woman the whole time.

And, again, I refuse to permit myself release.

   I kneel between Lysilph's stocking clad legs. Slowly, I lower my body

until I lie full length on the unresisting woman. My penis presses into

the panty clad vulva beneath me. I move my hips, rubbing my penis into

the crotch of Lysilph's panties. She begins to respond. Her hips move

slightly in unison with mine, rising and falling, pressing her vulva

against my penis. Her head moves from side to side.

   I grasp her jaw with my hand and restrain her. "Don't move, Bitch.

Your 'Demon Lover' doesn't want you to move. Understand?" And my slap

emphasizes my words, rocking her head to the side. She moans, but does

not waken -- even with the stinging sharpness of my slap, the drugs

holds her prisoner.

   I lower my head and take one covered breast into my mouth. I sucks it

deep into my questing mouth, and run my tongue over the silk. I chew

lightly on the breast, and attack the nipple through the cloth. After

some time, I raise my head and looks down at her. My saliva has

moistened both blouse and bra to the point that they have become almost

transparent. Nipple and aureole are both visible through the layers of

wet silk and satin. I attack Lysilph's other breast with identical


   I am panting now. My need is threatening to overwhelm me. I grasp the

sides of Lysilph's blouse with my hands and rip it open. The silk

resists, then tears open, buttons flying. Her breasts are protected only

by the brassierre. I rip that from her body. Her breasts judder with the

violence of my actions. The nipples harden as cool air meets with my

saliva on her breasts. I bend again to her breast as my hand fastens on

the other one. I squeeze and stroke her nipple as I suck the second one

into my mouth. Teeth and tongue assault bare nipple, sucking and licking

and biting.

   My hips move insistently against her crotch. I raise once more and,

grasping the waistband of her silken panties, I rip them from her. The

cloth bites deep into her hips before it finally parts and shreds away.

The marks will remain on her body long after the weekend is over, but I

don't care at this point. I poise myself above her, guides my erection

with one hand, and plunges it home deep within her vagina. She does

scream now, and tries to buck me off. My hips move, pinning her to the

bed. I slap her again. Once. Twice. Her head whips back and forth across

the pillow. As I thrust my cock deep within her, she begins to respond.

Her hips move to meet my awesome thrusts, and she moves them from side

to side. My left hand closes on her breast, my fingers wrap themselves

around distended nipple. My right hand seeks her mouth and explores it,

attacking her tongue as she moans. My mouth fastens upon her remaining

breast. I bite the nipple, and suck it deep within my mouth. My cock

pounds into her pussy. My fingers roll her tongue around in her mouth.

My other hand squeezes the bare breast and twists the nipple between

cruelly. I fuck her. And, she fucks me back. The erogenous centers of

her mind, freed of all inhibitions by the drugs, responds as she has

always desired--and repressed. Climaxes rise and merge, and release

simultaneously. I arch my back and look down on the bound beauty as our

climaxes wash over them. Slack jawed, slack faced, unconscious, and

utterly desirable, she lies beneath me. I fall forward on her, spent at

last, beyond recovery.

                                 * * *


                             TAKEN BY STORM

                    How Would You End It? - Part IX

   All stories must have an ending, and this one is no different. But I

   shall leave the outcome up to you. Just take this little quiz, and

   find the ending appropriate to your preferences.

   o  On the whole, I think I agree with Storm's actions. Most women

      want a "take control" kind of man.

      If you agree, read Alternate Ending #1.

   o  I find Storm and his actions reprehensible. Women should not be

      treated like objects.

      If you agree, read Alternate Ending #2.

   o  I enjoyed Storm's story, but I think he should be punished for

      treating Lysilph with less than the respect she deserves.

      If you agree, read Alternate Ending #3.

   o  Storm acts as if he isn't aware of the consequences his actions

      might produce. I am sure there may be serious complications that

      he does not envision.

      If you agree, read Alternate Ending #4.

   o  Surely you must be kidding! This is nothing more than a childish

      fantasy, a bad dream!

      If you agree, read Alternate Ending #5.

   o  Storm--and the author--is sick! He needs his head examined.

      If you agree, read Alternate Ending #6.

   On the other hand, you might want to write your own ending.

                                 * * *


                             TAKEN BY STORM

                     Alternate Ending #1 - Part X

   "Storm. Storm!"

   "Um. Huh? What?"

   "Are you quite through? I don't think I can play 'drugged slut' much


   "Um. Yeah. Okay. Wait a minute while I untie you. You know, Lysilph,

after all these years of business as usual, your suggestion of 'invading

rapist' sure was fascinating."

    "Well, there are a few things the people who work for me don't know.

And will never know. At work I may be the epitome of the cold 'bitch

boss,' but in my bedroom I need to be dominated. I need a real man who

isn't afraid to treat me like a slut and use me. And right now, I need

to be loved, tenderly and at great length. Are you 'up' to it, 'Demon




                             TAKEN BY STORM

                     Alternate Ending #2 - Part X

   The sound of thunder brings me bolt upright. It is quickly

followed by a burning sensation in my groin.

   Lysilph smiles wickedly as she stands over me with the still smoking

revolver. "Did you think you were going to get away with this? Did you

imagine for even the briefest of moments that I would really want to be

treated like a piece of meat? Like your whore."

   I realize what has happened as I clasp my hands over the bleeding

hole in my groin. I am rapidly going into shock. "Lysilph," I groan,

"for the love of God, do something!"

   She savors the moment. "Certainly," she whispers and places her

second shot between my eyes.



                             TAKEN BY STORM

                     Alternate Ending #3 - Part X

   Sounds from the hallway waken me. I rise from the bed and the

still-drugged woman beside me. As I reach the bedroom door, it bursts

open slamming me against the bedroom wall.

   "Freeze, you son-of-a-bitch!" The sudden glare of a flashlight blinds

me, and I throw one hand up to protect my eyes. "I said 'Freeze!'" The

second sentence is punctuated by the sound of three shots being fired in

rapid succession.

   The sudden burning pain in my chest surprises me. As I fall to the

floor, my final thought is "So, this is death! I wonder what Hell will

be like?" I die without knowing who shot me, or why.



                             TAKEN BY STORM

                     Alternate Ending #4 - Part X

   I awaken finally from a dreamless sleep. I return to the bathroom for

a quick, cold shower. I am still towelling off when he re-enters the


   "Come on, Sleepy Head. Time to rise." I snap the end of my towel

against Lysilph's naked ass. There is no response from the sleeping

woman on the bed.

   I reach down and grasp the cold, clammy shoulder of my dead lover.

Realization that Lysilph is dead and beyond my reach strikes home with

the force of a physical blow. And with the blow, my mind finally gives

way and the compulsions and obsessions of the weekend are replaced by

total, irreversible insanity.

   Weeks later, the sheriff discovers me and my dead lover.



                             TAKEN BY STORM

                     Alternate Ending #5 - Part X

   I awaken slowly, reluctantly. It is past nine, and I realize there is

work to be done. My wife of thirty-five years lies beside me, sleeping


   "Damn! What a dream. One of these days I am going to have to get that

woman off my mind." And fifty-six year old Padua Paldoran, senior

programmer/analyst for a leading mid-western retailer, consigns my one

brief passion of fifteen years ago to a dark recess of my waking mind

and returns reluctantly to reality.



                             TAKEN BY STORM

                     Alternate Ending #6 - Part X

   "And that's the story, Doc." I was just ending another session with

my shrink. "I keep having these fantasies where I am young and handsome

and totally in charge. Sometimes, like this one, they are violent and I

take advantage of a drugged or otherwise helpless woman. Sometimes, I

end up doing whatever my partner wishes. And sometimes, we just spend

our erotic encounters in acceptable, normal ways."

   "Now, Fred. We have progressed far enough to not be judgemental. You

know that, where consenting adults are involved, mutually agreed upon

fantasies are neither normal or abnormal. Merely pleasing. So long as no

one is unnecessarily hurt, and both parties are in full agreement."

   Dr. L. Kunseba shifted slightly. I look up and notice her flushed

face and moist lips. Her nylons hiss as she uncrosses her legs and

permits me a tantalizing glimpse of her satin panties. She smiles as she

notices the direction my gaze has taken. "And, 'Storm:' Why don't you

just call me Lysilph from now on?"



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