Post: 28547 of 28573
From: JLB155@PSUVM.PSU.EDU (Jennifer Bernold)
Newsgroups: alt.sex
Subject: Reposting of "The Book Part 3"
Date: 17 Jun 93 23:21:03 GMT
Organization: UTexas Mail-to-News Gateway
Lines: 1002
NNTP-Posting-Host: cs.utexas.edu


        This is more of _The Book_, a mind control story.

    m/f non-consensual,

    this simply remains an adolescent fantasy, and fantasies
    are harmless until you try to live them out (without consenting
    partners)

    Oh yeah, any resemblance between characters living/dead/or even
    fictional, remains entirely coincidental, remarkable, but
    coincidental. Good? good.

        Last chance, skip it or read it...

^L


This is partly for jhs, who would probably roll in his grave...

                       _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 
manipulation. 

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 matte 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 once! 

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 thoughts... 

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 eyes. 

"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 moment's 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 cloth. 

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 released a single low moan. 

Bob reached across with a sliver of thought and 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 nipples. 

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 past 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 host's 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 oblivion. 

"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 watched, 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 them." 

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 project. 

"My god!  It's 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 
hunters. 

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 counterarguments 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 
discussion. 

"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, emotionally. 

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 defuse 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 and 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 nipples. 

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 
comprehensible. 

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. 
<gggnnnnh!> 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 punished." 

"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 worked. 

====

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 earlier. 

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! 

"Who?"

"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! It's 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 good. 

"I, <gulp>, can't do this. It, <slurp> it's 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 bit." 

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 whereever 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-orgasmic 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."

"Yes?"

"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 wearing. 

"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 anywhere." 

"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. 

====
    More, again... if/when, as before
        -Blackie
End of article 28547 (of 28573) What next?