[ from Kristen's collection ]
__________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age
(Under 18 years old) PLEASE DELETE THIS
FILE NOW!
__________________________________________
Scroll down to view Story
Archive-name: Book05.txt
Archive-author: Blackie
Archive-title: "By the Book"
Part 5 of 20
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright (c) 1993, Oogle Bird Enterprises.
All rights reserved, permission granted for a single printed copy for
personal use only. Transmission of this story in electronic form is
permitted provided no alterations are made to text, and this message
is included in its entirety.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
The two of them went to a few dance places he'd used to visit,
trolling for dates, before he'd met Betty. She danced impeccably. He
teased her, making her dance with several other men with verbal
instructions to make the tiniest of come ons to them. Randi obviously
felt a little humiliated, but also found each act of humiliation to be
another inch forward in her arousal.
He, for his part, danced with as many other women as he could entice to
the dance floor. Some of them never noticed his hands cupping their
breasts. Some did, but didn't want him to stoped good. He told her to
use Fran to get her relief, when they got inside.
As they entered, Fran stepped up with hot cocoa.
"I thought you'd like something when you got in, master."
Bob took his cup, but Randi set hers aside. In moments she had pulled
Fran to the floor, plunging her tongue into the other woman's throat.
The temporary servant was moaning herself at this assault like advance
and began to feel Randi's curves through her dress. Shortly it was
Fran who had rolled Randi over and was thrusting her tongue down the
brunette's throat. Gasps of pleasure worked free from both women.
Bob was very pleased with the turn of events.
Randi and Fran allowed him to interrupt. After pointing out the
bedroom would be much more comfortable, he watched as they scrambled
to the other room together. He slipped the orgasm block into both of
them, and went down the basement.
Shortly he'd found the book and went into the living room, sitting in
the same chair he'd had Randi in earlier. Sipping his drink, he
listened to the stream of moans and begging "fuck me, please, oooohh"
sounds from the bedroom. His vicarious pleasure was about to begin.
He'd planned this since he saw the little tart at the mall.
He reached out to feel the two women, entering into the streams Randi
was putting out. He could feel her lips brush the nipples of the
other woman. Her heat filled his loins, the pleasure and pain of the
nips at her own nipples flooded his chest. He could feel the fingers
invading her cunt. He sensed the dripping fluids dribbling down her
legs. His own pelvis lifted and pulsed in rhythm with hers. Fran
became pinned under her, as she thrust her groin into the blond's
face. Clearly the blond was easily as far gone by now, as Randi dug
her tongue between Fran's cut lips, the fluids flowed into her mouth.
He could feel the twist of Fran's fingers, reaching Randi's tits.
Bob released the block on Randi's orgasm while he was inside her mind
stream, wallowing in the symbols spelling out the thrusting surge. He
felt her muscled contraction tightly, again, and then again, and once
again. He was certain he was wet in exactly the same way. Then he
slipped into Fran's stream of consciousness, feeling a similar punch
of pleasure rising in her/his groin. Randi chose the moment to lunge
her fingers into Fran's cunt, several, maybe an entire fist. Fuck!,
god that was good, he released Fran too and she went screaming, at
the top of her lungs, over the edge.
Releasing the probe into the women, Bob relaxed. Oh shit, he looked
down. He'd orgasmed, messing his pants and his chair. How
embarrassing. Planning hadn't foreseen this, he decided.
====
He cleaned up the mess. Looking in on his toys, he saw they'd fallen
asleep, cuddled in each other's arms.
Very well, he thought. I'm pretty well burnt out anyway. Time to
check out the book. He began to search for references to
organizations of telepaths, hunters, anything. It was 2:00 AM when he
gave up. There were no clues to anyone, not even the original author.
He virtually had the Book memorized now.
He finally put it away again.
Thinking about the two women together, his cock rose again. He
slipped in next to Fran. He woke her with a shush...
With Randi still asleep, he had Fran suck his cock, lubricating him
with her spit. Turning her around, he arranged her on her knees on
the bed. Her head next to Randi, her shoulders embedded in a pillow,
her ass jutting up at him. He spread her cheeks. She made a small
whimper of joy, and he shushed her again. His cock worked its way
into her ass slowly. She bit down on the pillow. He plunged in and
began to work up a rhythm. Fran grunted a pleased sigh. He pumped and
felt the flood coming again. His groin squeezed the liquid fire
through his prick one more time for the night.
Randi slept through everything this time, even Fran's screaming orgasm.
And then he felt spent. Fran dripped with come, and he watched her
waiting permission to get up. With hesitation, he had her gather her
things and go home.
He gave Fran a farewell kiss at the front door, and intimately drew
his fingers over each breast and her cunt before she departed.
====
He woke up Ran
depart. She wanted to stay for more of his special treatment.
"Don't worry, we'll get together again, soon."
"I'm prepared to move in, if you'll have me." she whispered.
"You want Fran, not me." He knew what brought out her heat, she'd
missed it all along. His new talent had helped see through her thin
veneer.
"Yes, but you gave her to me tonight. The whole thing wouldn't have
worked if I'd tried to pick her up myself..." Her eyes begged him for
more, both the humiliation and the control over other women. "But
she is only one woman. You are a treasure chest of unbriddled
sexual pleasure."
"So you think you want to be my whore? You want me to pimp women for
your use?"
"I'd pay for what you've given me, er, master." with this she
announced her servitude.
"You will pay. You'll find that if I own you, I'll used you often.
I'll think it over. Go home."
She pouted at him, but left as commanded. He watched her car drive
away in the darkness.
Clearing away the mess in the bed room, he collapsed into a solid
crashing sleep.
He dreamed of being 'hunted' by predatory villains, wielding ray guns
and carrying manacles. The terror woke him, but he managed to drop off
again, repeating the nightmare a few times...
Betty would visit tomorrow.
====
_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 mat she had cut for her art.
====
Bob, in the other room, smiled to himself after eavesdropping on her
thoughts. Controlling sex was a trivial issue now that he could slip a
new chain of symbols into her nervous system.
He 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
tos! 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 moments pause to contemplate her engrossed expression, he
carefully unbuttoned the first of her blouse's buttons. The skin exposed
by this was treated to a gentle nibbling by his lips. Tactile sensations
flooded outward from each spot he touched. He could feel the surge of
excitement radiating within his own, er the other man's, body as well.
Another button, another worshipful engagement of skin. He undid the
third button, exposing the clasp of her bra. As he finished the skin to
skin communication this time, he undid the bra's clasp, but stayed his
hand from curling back the clothe.
By now she was squirming with luxurious joy. It was quiet, she, unlike
his other recent conquests, was remarkably silent in her repose. When
he pulled back the sides of her blouse, she began to pull it off herself,
but he stopped her. She allowed him to roll her sleeves down from the
shoulders one at a time, and as he did, his lips and tongue came to
explore the newly exposed skin. She finally release a single low moan.
Bob reached across with a sliver of thought an magnified the sensation
for her. He could see within her that she no longer had any control over
her responsiveness.
Speeding the process a bit, he pulled her shorts away, leaving her clad
now only in a partially opened bra, and her panties. Edging a hand down
into the back of her panties, he brushed the backs of her cheeks. They
clenched together under his hand beginning a hip motion of incredible
delight to Bob.
The nameless woman before him watched his own motions as he stripped
himself of the clothes he'd worn into the room. Moving on her own, she
cupped his erect cock, a fairly normal size, in her hands and performed
some of her own worshipful contact touches. He lay on his back and she
began to trace her tongue all over him, with sensual little nips at his
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. Itching nerves,
a surge of pleasant symbols tickling in amongst the others her body
already was producing.
Holding her hips up, he worked around so his host's balls hung over
her face, her knees resting on his shoulders. This exposed her ass to
penetration by his fingers. Feeling the apprehension at her ass being
invaded, he found the symbols in the nerve stream were countering the
gentle brushes his fingertips were making. He eased the pain symbols
out of the stream, and suddenly the arousal increased accordingly.
With the backdoor open to his gentle touch, he lubricated his fingers in
her cunt to a growing stream of quiet suppressed moans. He continued to
lick the lips of her cunt, but began sliding first one, then two, then
three fingers in passed her sphincter.
To his delight she was trying to press the fingers in deeper. By now she
had found his cock hanging before her face enticing. He was being
sucked, nibbled and licked back to stiffness.
Finally, hard again, he stood on the bed. Continuing to hold her hips up
off the bed, he entered the darkest cavern she held. He pressed his hosts
cock into her anus until his balls rested, nestled between her ass
cheeks. She, lost in her new sensations, went into overdrive.
She pummeled her ass against him, seething with desire to suck the rest
of him into her rectum. He reached down and began to brutalize her
nipples, now raging with a sensitivity to the surge of pain/pleasure that
drove through her tits to her throat.
"Gaaaaaawwwddddaammmnnniitt!" she burst out from her throat with all
the pent up lust contained in their actions. "FUGMEEEEE!" as she worked
through the wild thrashing and to her climax.
He pulled out of her ass and entered her now steaming pussy. Wet and
surging, her muscles squeezed the invading prick, causing another
spreading ejaculation. He was able to unleash another flood, enough so
that the new made bed would require changing again.
"unnnghh..." he muttered. Looking at the doll like woman before him, he saw
she was wasted from her exertion.
"You never made love to my ass before, sweetheart." she whispered in
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 watch, closing her eyes,
and opening her mouth a fraction of an inch. He found he could spot her
teeth closed lightly on the tip of her tongue when she did this. It
infuriated him to know she insisted on waiting until they got married to
share any real intimacy.
He wondered if she knew about the little turn on motions she made, or if
it was all just a part of her mannerism.
And wondering was the same as acting, for in an instant he had a thread
inng
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 number of em."
It was vague, vaporous even, the mystery source of funds and the
authority behind the project.
"My god!, its a woman!" One of the hunters exclaimed. "There aren't many
of them at the institute. The White Coats always wants another to study,
we may get a bonus!"
Suddenly interested, Bob determined this woman was one telepath that
would slip free of their net. First, with speed he didn't know he could
muster, he traced down their scanning beam, finding the woman.
{Flee, conceal your talent!} he sent.
{Who} she radiated {where are you?}
{hunters follow} he threw out cryptically {they'll catch you.} He
pulled her home address from her mind before slipping back to the
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.
continued in part 6