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Archive name: fogger.txt (mf, mc, nc, inc, teen, preg)
Authors name: Babylon (address withheld)
Story title : Fogger
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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1998.
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FOGGER
by Babylon
As an eight year old boy, I was attacked by a neighbor-
hood dog that had escaped her leash and bolted toward
me in a blur of black and tan fur. All I remember about
that event was an intense feeling of impending doom.
And then, suddenly, that the black and brown colors of
that angry streak of fur gave way to what I can to this
day only describe as a 'fog' of colors - Angry, blind,
raging colors: hot reds, and oranges.
I stood frozen in place waiting for the first bite when
suddenly, without realizing it, I pushed 'blues' up out
of the 'fog' and suppressed the 'reds' and 'oranges.'
The bitch stopped her charge, turned from me, and loped
off to sit in the grass.
The owner came running shortly after to capture and
secure the animal - He looked at me in disbelief that
I was still alive and uninjured.
I paid little attention to him, too busy trying to
absorb the immense fact that I was in the dog's head,
in her mind, seeing and manipulating her emotional
condition. Each day after that, I would pass the
owner's house and 'fog' his dog. I imagined the bitch
and I had some sort of bond, some psychical connection
between us. And so I tested that connection, torturing
the beast with a roller coaster ride of emotional
impulses. In time I discovered I could control the
animal up to a half block away, and fog her with
emotional changes ranging from frothing rage to wanton
rut almost at will. It depended on which colors I found
in her mind and how hard I tried to push them.
Actually, color isn't the best way to describe what I
see. It's more like a dense emotional cloud, diffuse,
inchoate - in the aura of a animal. The emotional
content of that cloud appeared to me as colors - blues
fading to yellows, greens or reds. I could see these
emotions and had the ability to amplify, trim or
suppress them entirely. Fogging the dog was fun, but
being a kid, I never thought my link with the dog as
anything but a weird private curiosity like discovering
a dead body or looking at the results of ones nose
pickings. In time I lost all interest in the thing as
the newness of the experience faded.
And. of course, like any healthy eight year old, I
learned how to masturbate instead.
And that's the most it ever came to until I was thir-
teen - and met another fogger. My parents had taken
the family to Disney World for February school vacation
and I hated the trip - too many people, too hot, too
much wasted time waiting in line behind too wide asses
for too few exciting rides.
My brother and I dumped the rest of them, after about
three days and wandered the park looking at girls. So
many there were. We met two girls from Atlanta --
Aeisha and Kim, cute, young, barely blooming but easy
to talk to.
They loved the fact that we talked so "proper." And we
relished in their attention and tried every possible
approach to get to first base with them.
It was fun, but the late afternoon approached and we
were under orders to meet the folks at the EPCOT Center
by five. So with much regret, we left them and made our
way toward the imposed rendezvous.
We talked about the girls as we made our way through
the park. My brother had squeezed out a last minute
promise from the older of the two, Kim, to meet the
next day. He bragged she was hot for him and he was
determined to feel her up if they ever met again.
I thought he was more than a little delusional; most
likely the only thing he would get to feel was the back
of their hands across his face, I shot back.
My brother didn't answer. I repeated myself, looking at
him this time. Again he acted like he never heard a
word I said. He just continued walking along beside me
expressionless, treating me as if I didn't exist.
About the same time, I began to feel the most astound-
ing sensation: my mind was being 'tickled' - that's the
only way I can describe it. I looked away from my
brother in the direction of the feeling and saw an even
more amazing sight: a couple were waiting in the hot
Florida sun for their turn on a ride.
A guy was about 20 or so, tall, dark haired and very
athletic looking. His companion was about the same age,
with long blonde hair, big tits and a nice body. She
was wearing a pale green halter top held closed by a
knot between her wonderful breasts, and a pair of tight
coochie cutter shorts.
That was a nice enough view, but not unusual that day.
What was, however, was the black man standing behind
the girl with his hands up under her halter, busily
massaging the hell out of her tits as the couple con-
tinued waiting patiently for their turn as if
completely unaware.
The tickling sensation increased to an irritating itch
as I pulled closer to the trio. I grabbed my brother's
arm and made my way over to them to watch this amazing
outrage happening in plain view in the middle of Disney
World of all places.
The black guy didn't even look at me as he spoke. "So
you're the one I felt all day?" He said.
"Huh?" I could barely blurt out.
"You're a fogger, right...you can fog?"
"Fog?"
"Com'ere kid. See this bitch. She from Europe or some
fucking place. I come here once or twice a week to grab
me a new piece of pussy from the tourists passing
through. I saw her this mornin' and decided I'd take
her to her hotel for a few days, fuck the hell out of
her and send her on her merry way.
I can do that 'cause I can fog, you understand. I think
you can fog too. If you couldn't you wouldn't be
talkin' to me right now. You'd be like that kid beside
you, drooling on yourself." He pointed to my brother,
who was indeed drooling all over himself, like some
retard.
"So can you fog?"
"I dunno..."
"I think you can. Feel that itch in your head, that's
me fogging this park. You ever seen inside a person's
mind."
"A dog... once... a long time ago."
"Yeah, a dog's easy to fog. Not much there to cover
their feelings. Peoples though, that takes more prac-
tice. You gotta get through all that reasonin' and
shit. See this girl's mind, like all these other
peoples here. They's emotions are buried deeper than a
dogs, but you can find 'em if you look hard enough.
Foggin's not like seeing. It's more like mining. You
can walk over land filled with gold, but never know
it's there 'lessin you start diggin'. 'An' you won't
see nobody's emotions, 'lessin you cut through all that
intellect."
I looked in the girl's, the first mind I had seen in
five years - and the first human mind I had seen ever.
her cloud was very dense, tighter and more chaotic than
anything I had ever seen in that dog.
He held her in a deep blue state. But it was a blue I
had never seen before, almost black with streaks of
yellows and gold's. The dog had shown yellows when she
was in rut - but again, not like this shit. Pure and
intense like staring into the sun, pulled and swirling
in and out of the blue-black of her fogged quiescence.
I pulled out her mind and looked into my brother's. His
was the same inky blue-black, but with little else ex-
cept here and there traces of a greenish twinkle. I had
never seen that color in the dog's mind, so I didn't
know what it meant.
Then I tried to look in the fogger's mind. I was sur-
prised to find brilliant colors dancing everywhere.
They swirled and tumbled through his head like a kitten
playing with a ball of yawn.
I was drawn deeper into the colors and rushed toward...
where... I didn't know. With a panic I realized I was
being drawn along into some ancient hidden place inside
his head and couldn't pull back. The colors began to
run and bleed into each other and far below I sensed
some awful brown space toward which I was being drag-
ged. I tried to break off but there was nothing I could
do to break off contact with his mind. Then, pain...
and I was laying on the ground looking up into his
face.
"You a stupid kid ain't ya? Stupid or just unlearned.
Ya don't never try to look in the mind of no fogger.
If there's gold in these peoples' minds, there's noth-
ing but quicksand in the mind of another fogger. You
get caught in there, and both ya be idiots quick, fast,
and in a hurry. If I hadn't slapped the shit out ya,
we'd both be done now."
He helped me up, brushed the dirt off my ass, turned me
around and continued as if nothing had happened. "No
one but me and you notices I'm checking this bitch's
goods out. They can't... don't even know their own name
bout now. You the first fogger I met in bout six years.
Watch this." He lifted the young woman's arms up, and
pulled her halter top off. He grabbed one of her tits
and wiggled it in my direction.
"You ever see a nice pair of tits like these? Nice...
big nipples, all pink and shit, taste good too... wanna
lick?"
What the fuck!, I thought. I looked at the girl stand-
ing there, her arms raised to the sky just as he had
put them, her halter top dangling from her fingers,
letting the guy squeeze and rub on her tits. Every so
often she and her boyfriend, moved forward as the line
made its way to the ride's entrance. This shit was too
fucking amazing to a thirteen year old boy!
"So fool, you wanna lick or not?"
"Okay."
"Well get over here." Against my better judgment, I
moved over to the girl and stared at her face. Like
some idiot, I waved my hands in front of her eyes to
see if she would blink. It was like I wasn't even
there.
"You better hurry up, I gotta go...'Old Henry' is
waiting for this fine shit."
I figured I had better take up the guy's offer or never
get another chance. I gently fingered her nipple, feel-
ing a buzz of surrealistic displacement, as I
encountered the object of every young boy's fantasy.
This was too fucking unreal to be happening. The nipple
met my finger with a spongy resistance, I could feel
the minute pimples and wrinkles on it and the pink
aureole surrounding it.
I traced the line of ridges along to the smooth skin
of her breast and my hand slipped over the heavy
roundness, enjoying the tickley feeling of the nipple
against my pressing palm.
That got me so wound up, I came in my pants. The sudden
feeling of hot semen splashing against my shorts and
onto my thigh scared me near to faint. And produced a
wicked laugh out of my would be mentor.
"Hey, boy... guess you liked that. Best you clean your-
self up before someone sees you. But watch this first.
I get a kick outta this shit."
He slowly released the girl from her fog, and as he did
I could see her cloud get denser until the colors all
but winked out in pitch black. The girl's arms fell to
her side, dropping her halter top to the ground. She
resumed her conversation with her boyfriend in some
language I couldn't understand.
There she was stark naked from the waist up and she
hadn't noticed yet. The man spoke to her in friendly
voice and she smiled. He leaned over and whispered
something to her and her face turned ashen as she drop-
ped her eyes to her chest as if to confirm something.
The look of horror spread and her cheeks began to
redden, she turned to her boyfriend in a complete state
of confusion and panic. Henry quickly extinguished her
anguish as he put her back under.
He turned to me and laughed. "Boy you gonna have some
fun with this. I'll be goin' now. Me and this here
babe got some fucking to do. From now on, you gonna
have to get your own feels. Bye."
I watched him walk off toward the park entrance
giggling to himself, with the girl following him like
some kinda puppy. Her boyfriend still stood there in
the hot sun waiting patiently for his turn on the ride.
On the ground, at the man's feet, lay the pale green
halter she had been wearing.
I decided it was time I got the hell out of there
before I got arrested for being in presence of a
missing girl. Grabbing my brother's hand, I pulled him
in a dead run toward the EPCOT Center and our parents.
That night I laid awake thinking about that crazy man,
and that girl (and everyone else for that matter)
standing there letting him do what he wanted to her.
Most of all, I thought about touching her tit, and
cumming in my pants. I didn't know cumming like that
was possible.
Two days later, I fogged my brother for the first time.
And the last time, unfortunately. We were returning
home from Disney World, my parents, my brother and
sister and myself. I had been trying to figure this
fogging stuff out for two days. I had succeeded only
in getting my face slapped by Henry and Aiesha, (my
brother and sister) for my effort.
Sitting in the back of the car with them, the trip was
boring and we were restless. To break the monotony of
the road I tried to see if I could get into my
brother's head. Mostly all I got was that dense cloud
of inky blackness surrounding his emotional core.
Then, on the sixth or seventh try, I discovered the
knack - his 'intellect' thinned and revealed the bril-
liant colors I had only seen with the man's help in
the park that day. my brother's jaw dropped and a
stuporous grin formed on his face. In his mind, azure
streaks arose out of the blue-black cloud then pale
pinks and even paler greens.
* * * * *
That was the last thing I remember. Three months later
I woke up in a hospital bed in traction. Inadvertently,
I had fogged the entire car. My father, as locked in a
stupor as my brother, had driven into the back of
tractor-trailer.
In the mad catastrophe that followed, he died, along
with my sister and mother. My brother was a vegetable;
he died six months later, never regaining consciousness.
After another month or so in the hospital, I was sent
to a foster care to live. I was placed with a nice
enough minister and his fat, happy wife, who cooked the
best food I'd ever tasted. I shared the home with three
other kids - twins boys, whose crack-head mom had lost
custody of them at birth, they were four. And Melissa,
a sixteen year old girl whose parents had also died in
a car crash two years earlier. The agency thought it
would help me to adjust if I was placed with her, see-
ing as we shared similar histories.
The Minister and his wife were nice enough. Although
he looked very grim, I never heard him speak above a
deep whisper. He even preached that way in church,
holding the entire congregation in rapt attention in a
voice I scarce believed carried to the back of the
tabernacle.
He was six and a half feet tall and skinny as a rail.
Strict too. He'd have us up each morning to read the
bible before school, every meal began with his bles-
sing, and, under the fat smiling face of his wife, the
house was organized along near military lines. "Never
forget your family, boy. Blood's all you have." He
would say. And made sure I visited my brother in the
hospital every day to conduct a 'prayer meeting' until
the day he died.
The twins, Shirome and Rashon, well what could you say.
A crack-head for a mom, no father, and a life moving
from one foster home to another. They were screwed
already and hadn't even seen their fifth birthday. The
two of them were hyper as all get out. Noisy, back
talking, couldn't sit still for more than a minute or
two.
The doctors shoved all kinds of drugs at them, but it
didn't seem to do any good. Melissa got 'brat duty,'
as she called it, most days when the minister and his
wife were off doing ministering stuff.
I was mostly left alone because I was still in physical
therapy from the accident, and had most recently suf-
fered among us - that didn't exempt me from the chores,
just the brats.
Three months into my new life; I'd just turned fourteen
and had pretty much settled into the routine when word
came that my brother's kidneys were failing and his
time was near.
The Preacher took all of us down to the hospital to say
prayers over him and hope for a miracle. We were all in
that little room, Minister, his wife, the brats, Melis-
sa and I, staring at my brother all tubed up, all
bloated with his own fluids, every kind of beeping and
pumping machine around him you could imagine.
I hadn't realized then that I caused that crash, (Thank
God) because I don't know how I would have reacted to
watching him die.
But, I knew I could fog. And, though I hadn't tried to
fog anyone since the crash, I figured if I could do it
now, I might catch sight of him before he passed on.
So I did it.
Reaching into his mind looking for his colors -- or
something. There was nothing, just that ugly damp brown
emptiness I last saw as I fell into Henry's mind. I
vomited right there in the room, as my brother passed
away from me.
The funeral was held later that week, the Minister
presiding over my brother's last moment above ground.
The church, an odd combination of Jewish, Christian and
good old 'holy roller' American religious fervor rocked
with song and sorrow. Not that these people ever knew
my brother, of course. But, I guess, the sight of the
dead carried such dread for the religious.
Now, I hadn't grown up in a religious home, so most of
this was completely alien to me. But these folks feared
death in a way I couldn't imagine, or really under-
stand. All but the twins, that is. They were rough-
housing in the middle of the aisle, driving Melissa
near to tears with their uncontrollable behavior.
Melissa was a big girl - 5'11" to my 5'8" then. She had
a huge shock of straight dark red-brown hair which fell
below her shoulders. Half black and half Portuguese,
she sported big firm full teenage breasts. She was
often mistaken for a Latino, and Spanish guys had no
hesitation in throwing a little "Aeei mami, Yo quiero
esta contigo." at her in hopes of tasting her fruit.
Her thighs were full, and rose to a womanly ass that
'rolled like Jordan' when she walked. She had a style,
a way of moving and a body that made grown men turn
their head, even though she was barely more than a
child of sixteen.
Her personality, given her obvious attributes, was
understandably forceful and self-confident. She knew
men wanted her and delighted in the attention. With so
many men in the neighborhood trying to get in her
pants, she had little time for boys her own age, and
even less for an insignificant kid like me.
Despite that, she was my protector and I was coming to
adore and lust for her - a confusing situation for me.
She certainly had the tenacity and presence to deal
with most situations, but the twins drove her crazy
that day and I sympathized with her predicament.
It was time for me to view my brother's body one last
time before they closed the coffin, and I was nervous.
I had never seen a real dead person before.
As I reached the casket, Shirome ran out into the aisle
and started a temper tantrum. Melissa started after
him, and Rashon took the opportunity to run off in the
other direction yelling at the top of his voice.
To cover the noise, the choir started a low quiet
number. Irritated, I fogged the twins before I even
thought about it. Instantly the noise stopped... and
the music... and the shuffling, moaning and crying...
and everything.
I had fogged the entire church. Shirome stood in the
aisle quietly, and Melissa was frozen bent over reach-
ing for him. I walked over to the twin and led him back
to his seat. I returned and wondered what to do with
Melissa. She was still bent over, reaching for where
Shirome had been.
I studied her face. Glassy though they were she had
beautiful hazel eyes, and perfect full lips, framed by
her long hair. Her mouth hung open, and I followed the
outline of her cheekbones to the line of her neck and
shoulders. Her blouse had fallen forward and the twin
cups of her bra, filled with her large breasts, were
easily visible to me.
I couldn't resist the opportunity to take a peek in-
side. Reaching into her blouse, I gently stroked one
globe, marveling at the taut fleshy, heavy feel of it.
I undid one button of her blouse and brought my entire
hand into it. My fingers found the dense globe and slid
along the fullness of the breast until the nipple
touched the base between my index and middle fingers.
Gently I massaged the nipple between the base of two
fingers and rolled the firm heavy breast in my hand.
Along her deep cleavage, a sweaty dampness had formed
in the heat of the church and the funeral service's
high drama. I ran my hand into her valley, marveling
at the wetness and gathered some on the tips of my
fingers. Drawing them to my mouth I tasted her salti-
ness.
My nervousness got the better of me then. I stood her
up and guided her back to her seat, and then found
Rashon and placed him between Melissa and Shirome.
Finishing, I made my way back to my brother's casket.
At the casket, I released the fog and everything
returned to normal.
That is, it returned to normal for everyone but
Shirome, Rashon and Melissa - who had very confused
looks on their faces. And, most of all, for me: I had
rediscovered for the second time the powerful potential
of fog. That night lying in my bed, I thought about
Melissa's breasts, and hatched a plan.
Two days later, Sunday, the Minister and his wife were
off to visit members of the church who had been unable
to attend that week because of illness or a lapse in
observance.
Melissa was left in charge of the brats and I was
directed to prepare my clothes for the coming week of
school. I watched out my window as they drove off and
began to put my plan into operation.
Sitting in my room, I fogged the house and got up my
nerve to do this thing. After five or so minutes,
courage in hand, I made my way down to the living room
where Melissa and the twins were sitting. They had been
watching TV. and eating popcorn, the smell of it thick
in the air. The twins were sitting on the floor in
front of the couch and to one side of Melissa, who was
sitting on the couch, legs folded under her and leaning
on the sofa arm. Although it was only about 7:00 PM,
Melissa and the twins had changed into their PJ's.
I made my way over to her and looked into her eyes.
Satisfied she was heavily fogged, I touched her face
and ran my fingers through her hair. I leaned down to
smell her hair and ran my lips over her face to her
mouth.
Drinking in her girl smell, I felt myself hardening and
paused to adjust myself in my pants. Still nervous, I
moved through the room to make sure all the drapes were
closed and the front door was locked. Then I returned
to open Melissa's pajama top.
The buttons gave way to my clumsy nervous fumbling and
her breasts forced themselves out - pushing the top
aside. I stood there in awe of those firm ripe hard
female melons. They had a soft firm roundness to them
which gave way to dark brown puffy aureole, each topped
with a deep brown fat nipple.
I touched them tentatively, fearful I might do some-
thing to draw her out of her fogged condition. Then
more firmly, testing their springiness, bounciness and
mass. They hung out in all their peaked glory at me,
swaying slightly as I caressed them and admired their
fullness.
I bent forward to taste one, pulling the nipple into my
mouth and rolling it around my tongue and biting it
softly with my teeth. The sponginess of the nipple in
my mouth amazed me. I sat there for more than a half
hour suckling at and fondling Melissa's tits.
I remembered the words of the man as he walked out of
the park that day, "Boy, you gonna have some fun with
this." I was hooked. I knew from then on fogging was
for me.
After an hour more of playing with Melissa's tits, I
began exploring her mind. The blue-blackness of her
fogged state was there, as the colors you'd expect.
I probed looking for her yellows, found them and tried
to amp them up. But, I wasn't too good at it. Mostly
they would rise for a moment and then fall away. As
they rose, her breathing quickened, and her nipples
hardened and protruded even more than normal.
Her tongue rolled in her mouth as if she were trying
to find something in there. Her pajama bottoms showed
the tell tale darkening of moisture, so I reached into
her lap and slid my fingers across the darkening circle
to feel her dampness. Since her legs were folded, I
couldn't get very far, and I was too nervous to
actually move her so I could.
I bent down and placed my nose in the cleft between her
thighs, at the site of her dampness and pulled her
smell into my nose. The aroma brought my penis again to
hardness and I could feel the drip of dampness forming
in my own pants. After a few moments, the yellows sub-
sided and her breathing slowed.
Each time the yellows fell, I would reach in and amp
them up again. And each time I could get a stronger
response out of her. On about the forth try, her
breathing picked up a lot and she began to squirm in
her seat. She fell back against the couch and produced
sharp rapid breaths, heaving her breasts up and down in
rapid succession. Her eyes, fluttered and the pupils
alternately dilated and constricted. Her mouth opened
and a rush of air carried a trilling sound.
I pushed her yellows a little more and she fell forward
clutching herself and pawing at her breast, working one
nipple between two fingers and breathing in hacking,
open breaths.
This time, the yellows blossomed to the top of the
blue-blackness of her fog and held there without me
amping them up any more.
Her hand began to rub vigorously at her pussy, and she
yanked at her nipple pulling it out and pushing it back
deep into her breast. She squeezed and pulled on the
meaty flesh of the breast, kneading it with rapid
forceful hand movements.
I was exhilarated by the performance, but overwhelmed
at her response. Not knowing where all this was going,
I increased her fog and pushed her back under. I slip-
ped away upstairs to my room and jacked off whispering
her name. Then I released the fog and went about my
work.
About fifteen minutes later, Melissa came running up-
stairs and into her room. I waited, sure somehow she
would suspect me - why, I don't know. When she left
again and went back downstairs, I waited a decent
interval and followed her down. She had changed pj's
and was again sitting on the end of the couch watching
TV.
She didn't appear to notice me entering the room and
barely responded to me when I spoke to her. I was wor-
ried I had fucked up somewhere. But, she mostly ignored
me and watched TV. quietly, deep in thought and con-
fused no doubt at the wetness in those pj's and the
vague feelings of heat still rolling through her body.
* * * * *
During the next week, I slipped into her room every
night as the fogged house slept, and making Melissa
perform for me as she did that first night on the
couch. Each time, after several hours or so watching
her masturbate herself to explosive orgasms six or
seven times, I would go back to my own room and jack
off furiously until my cock was raw, or I finally fell
asleep.
After two weeks or so of this, I greeted my fourteenth
year realizing I could do virtually anything to her I
wanted. I spent the wee hours fondling and exploring
every inch of her body. I would spend several hours
with my nose buried in her pussy licking at her thighs
as I took in the awesome aroma of her sex.
By the end of the month I stole into her room prepared
to commit an outrage. I invaded her warm wet pussy with
my fingers, spread her legs and inhaled the raw funk
of her asshole. I began slipping my fingers as deep
into her proud marvelous ass as I could go, watching
the my dirt-stained finger sliding into and out of her
ass, as I sucked the flowing pussy juice off her pussy.
As I sucked and inhaled her odor, I began humping my-
self into her tits and smooth flat belly. In no time
at all, I came full force all over her belly, my
ejaculate spurting out between us, turning her slick
with my cum.
I slid off her body to examine my deposit, captivated
by its sticky smoothness, Sliding my hand across her
belly - swabbing my cum into it - I began working it
into her flesh, mixing it with the fine line of hair
running from her navel to her deep brown bush, sliding
it up to fill her navel and trying to spread it upward
to her breast. But it wasn't enough, so I stood over
her jacking my cock for several minutes until I came
again, across her breasts and chest, and slathered that
in as well.
It was almost mystical watching my cum mixing with her
sweat turning her body into as glistening pillar of
brown sugar. I leaned forward and laid my face between
her breasts, covering my face with our juices, and
rubbing it into my own skin with a slow oscillating
wave of my head.
I had to have more - I slid over her, straddling her
again and laid full out on her fogged awesome body with
my head on her wonderful sticky chest. In that position
sucking on her puffy dark nipples and rubbing my cock
on her stomach and mons, I continued dry humping myself
to orgasm after orgasm. Her body was crusted with I
don't know how many of my ejaculations.
When I finally finished I had to give her a bed bath to
erase the evidence of my invasion. And so it went,
night after night for almost three months. Some nights,
I didn't sleep at all, just went the whole night, cum-
ming on her and cleaning us up, then cumming on her
again. It hadn't occurred to me to actually put my
penis in her, but I had realized that I would never
have to use my hand on myself again.
As you can imagine, such absolute bliss had to have
its consequences. Without knowing it, I was not only
fogging Melissa, but altering her emotional state with
each encounter.
I didn't know it at the time that a fogger can not only
fog, they can "trim" as well. Fogging allows me to sup-
press another person's awareness. In a fogged state a
person is 'distracted', so to speak and not open to
external environmental stimuli. A fogged person would
not know, for instance, that her hand was on a hot
stove, or that someone had removed her skirt.
Trimming, I discovered later, is the manipulation of
that individuals sub-rational emotional processes dur-
ing the fogged state. When I manipulated Melissa's
colors, I had reformed, at least for a short time, her
emotional environment. Amping up her yellows pushed her
to masturbate on the couch that first night, but it
also generally increased her sexuality for a period of
time after. (Maybe even permanently, I don't really
know.)
In the weeks that followed Melissa changed a lot. She
had begun to complain to me about the ugly plain
clothes the Minister and his wife provided for her. She
began sneaking out of the house in the morning to
school with her own 'special outfits' in her bag and
changing in the school lavatory. By the month's end,
word had gotten around school and back to me that she
had traded with some boy a couple of blowjobs for him
to do her homework.
I was aghast and anguished that she was developing a
reputation. And more than a little miffed that she was
putting out to anybody else. Realizing I could be hav-
ing a permanent effect on Melissa's emotional back-
ground caused me to alter my activities a little.
I still did her every chance I could, but I was careful
to suppress her amped yellows after each encounter.
Like a kid paying his parents stereo while they were
out, I pushed her as far as I could into an orgiastic
moppet, but was always careful to trim her yellows back
to normal when I was done using her various body sur-
faces for my pleasure.
After about a month of these tweaks, she returned to
the quiet but strong-willed girl she had always been,
and I again had exclusive use of her tender body. And
my ability to fog became more sophisticated.
In the beginning I had assumed I had to fog the entire
house to fog Melissa. Now I found I could fog just her,
and leave everyone else untouched. And I didn't need to
dump it on her either: I learned that fogging could be
adjusted in degrees from the merest distraction to a
deep state of senselessness. In fact, I had been
altering her underlying emotional environment in part
because I was stripping so much of her intellect away,
and trimming her emotions so near the root.
Her response to me was more thrilling, and far less
damaging, when I enveloped her in a light fog and
trimmed only near the top of her emotions. In a day-
dream state or even lighter state of fog, she was
almost 'involved' in the action. Which is to say, she
didn't just lay there and let me do her, her responses
were very close to what they would have been if she
were unfogged and actively fucking me.
I could protest to you about now, that I wasn't just
using my abilities to exploit poor Melissa. In fact,
I put much of what I learned to use other ways. I
found, for instance, that fogging could be used to
'tame' those bratty twins and make them easier for her
to babysit.
So, on the one hand, I was using my abilities to ex-
ploit Melissa, on the other, I was kind of making life
easier for her too. But the reality is mostly I was
using them to have my way with her. In particular, I
was intrigued by her reported offer to suck a guy off
in return for homework.
It opened up a entirely new set of possibilities for
me. I began to seriously think about actually fucking
her, and all those other things boys said she offered
to do, not simply masturbating against her.
I crept into her room one night and after our usual
session pulled her up out of bed to stand in front of
me. Turning her around as I circled to sit on the bed,
I pressed her down to her knees. She was still slick
from four or five of my ejaculations, and, to tell you
the truth, my desire had been mostly sated by those.
But, I decided to try to see if I could get her to suck
my cock, so I pressed her head forward in my lap and
pushed my shriveled boy cock into her mouth. Instantly
her mouth was alive with activity, and my head was
swimming with the hot delicious feeling of total wet
envelopment.
I hadn't imagine it could feel this good. I took to
scooting my ass to the edge of the bed and rocking her
head up and down along my cock in a maddening race to
finish in her throat. I came, and kept her head working
up and down until I came again. Her cum slicked chest
pressed on the bedside, flattening her tits against and
dampening the sheet with my cum. I held her like that,
throat full open, shoved down on my cock, and I hugged
her head as I exploded one last time in her mouth.
I finally pulled my cock out of her throat and watched
it flop down onto her tits. I pushed the head between
her breasts and began again to shove up and down along
her valley. I came, splashing cum all over her neck,
and watched as the thick rivulets dripped from her nip-
ples onto her thighs under me.
Two nights later, after we had finished dinner and I
had performed my chores of washing the dishes and tak-
ing out the trash, I just fogged the house in a fit of
uncontrollable hyper-sexual pique. Melissa was upstairs
taking a bath and preparing for the next day. I crept
up the stairs and opened the door to the bathroom, sat
on the edge of the tub and watched her mindlessly wash
the same arm over and over. (That's the thing about
fogging. Whatever a person is doing when you fog them,
they just keep doing over and over again, until you
stop them.)
Her breasts, so tight and firm they hardly moved as she
did, lay half in the soapy water and half out. I reach-
ed in to cup them. I grabbed the soap and lathered them
up, and used the soapy slickness to fondle and caress
them. I slid my hand down her belly and into her pussy,
playing with her button and rhythmically shoving my
fingers in and out her.
I can't describe to you how much I adored her, she was
so fucking perfect, and so fucking mine. I spent a half
hour just watching her in that bathroom, and working up
my heat in anticipation of fucking the hell out of her
later that night. The water was getting cold, so I let
myself out of the bathroom and closed the door, went
into my room and lifted the fog from the house.
Tonight was the night.
I had decided, to take Melissa's virginity and fuck her
for the first time. I wanted to make sure that I had
the first turn. If she was going to get hot for other
boys, I wanted to make sure I was going to be first.
The excitement and thrill of it all had me jumpy and
hyped up as all get out. I hadn't had the nerve to
actually fuck her before. Sure I had done just about
everything I guy could do to a girl short of that, but
it seemed to me that actually putting myself in her
pussy was a step that couldn't be taken back.
The anticipation of it was driving me crazy and I
couldn't wait for the household to go to sleep for the
night. Finally it was 10 pm, the Minister and his wife
had been in bed for about forty five minutes. The twins
had long since blinked out. I could hear Melissa moving
through her room doing whatever in there, but not going
to bed.
I waited until the moving stopped and laid a heavy fog
on the house, opened my door, slipped down to her room
and went inside. The moonlight was shining through one
of her windows onto her bed outlining her body as it
lay mostly uncovered in the bed. She had on a nightie
and panties set. She was lying on her side away from
me with one leg drawn up, and the other extended. I
moved quietly over to her bedside and sat down beside
her.
I sat watching her breasts rise and fall as she slept
through the fog. Reaching over, I ran my hand along her
thigh to her hip and then to her waist, sliding it down
onto her belly, and brought it around to slip under her
panties top. I felt the curly pubic hairs atop her mons.
Her pussy lips were very fat, and I traced them as they
curved along the crest of her mons and disappeared be-
tween her thighs. My fingers urged the lips apart and
sought out her button. As I massaged her button, I be-
gan to amp up her yellows.
I wanted to be sure she was well pushed into her yellow
state before I tried to fuck her. I didn't really know
how to take a virgin, but from I had heard - from other
boys - it was supposed to be a painful and bloody event.
Above all I did not want to hurt Melissa.
As I began to trim up her yellows, Melissa moaned
slightly and turned to lay flat on her back. I could
feel her pussy begin to moisten under my touch. She
drew up first one leg and then the other as her breath
quickened under increasing rut.
Now, she arched her back and started to hump into my
fingers, holding her ass slightly off the bed and
grinding her mons on my fingertips. I knew she was
throbbing, but I took a few more minutes to get her to
the level of yellow I wanted. By then she had long
since abandoned my fingers and was furiously masturbat-
ing herself.
Despite the coolness of the night air Melissa's nightie
was soaked with her sweat. She had yanked her panties
to one side and held them in place as her other hand
tunneled fingers deep into her pussy. Her eyes were
shut tightly and her face was fixed with a grimace of
insane lust.
I climbed into the bed beside her and gently moved her
hands aside. She continued humping into the air, and I
used the opportunity to remove her soaked panties. I
pressed her deeper into her fogged state, getting
ready, for the first time in this highly one-sided
relationship, to actually invade her pussy with my cock.
Forcing her legs open, I crawled between them, my cock
in hand, aiming for her opening. I was so nervous my
cock, though hard, was pretty dry. I tried to moisten
it by rubbing the head up and down across her cunt, but
she responded by lifting up off the bed and before I
knew it I was buried to the root in her magnificently
hot pussy.
The shock of her sudden lusty thrust onto my cock and
it's sudden envelopment into her liquid warmth popped
me off almost immediately. The feeling of her hot moist
interior walls pressing and massaging my organ was more
that I could stand. I came in rushes, feeling my seed
filling her insides.
"Wow," I thought to myself, "That was easy."
I pulled off her and watched our juices drip from the
head of my cock onto the sheet under us. There was, to
my surprise, no blood in it.
Of course, I know now that the many nights I had spent
fucking my fingers into her puss had virtually worn
away her hymen. Either that or that kid she traded
blowjobs for class notes with had gotten to her sweet
pussy before me.
In any case, I was free to go on fucking her with
gusto, and so I went back to it. Pushing deep into her
fogged body and driving my cock into her with the kind
of enthusiasm a just blooded teenager brings to the
job. I bounced and humped her writhing body faster
until during the maddening eruption that followed, I
trimmed back Melissa's fog to the mildest level I dared
bringing her even more alive in a vicious state of rut.
She began to speak, even cry out for me to fuck her
harder. I complied pushing as hard as I could with my
hips, trying to slam in her pussy again and again. As
I came I did something I had never dared before, I
dropped her fog completely for a quick moment and
pushed her back under again. I could feel her body
stiffen in response, clamping down on my cock and then
relax as she slipped away again. It was truly trea-
cherous and truly a high.
I loved it. Jeez, I had to have fucked that girl for
most of that night, exhilarating in the feel of her
warm tight pussy, the fresh feel of it around my cock.
It was the climactic point of my months long assault
on her body and I spent the night savoring my victory.
It was February again, the anniversary of my catastro-
phe. I had been fucking Melissa regularly now for about
three months. The learning curve had been a bit steep,
but since I was in complete control of the material, I
adjusted.
I had taken Melissa's hymen, fucked her mouth and cunt
sometimes for hours without stopping, invaded her ass
and taken every imaginable liberty with any possible
erotic surface and sub-surface of her body I could
reach.
Night after night she was bathed, drenched, with my
cum - dripping from her eyebrows, in her hair, on her
lips, cheeks... and wherever else I cared to deposit
my load.
During the day, I might suddenly take her in the bath-
room at school or at home and make her suck me off,
just to hold me until night time came and I could
quickly follow.
I know this sounds stupid, since I was porking the hell
out of the poor fogged up child six ways from Sunday,
but I loved her. She was, at once, my most precious
companion and sister, and, my fuck-toy, and sleazy
doped-up cum-bucket.
I couldn't imagine wanting another girl, since any I
knew of paled in comparison to her beauty and slender
grace. As you might expect, if you give a 13 year old
boy uncurbed access to a complex, exquisite, sophis-
ticated piece of machinery like the sex organs of a
sixteen year old girl, he'll end up fucking everything
up.
In early March, I came home from school and found
Melissa's room empty and she gone for good. In the
days that followed the twins and I were taken from
the Minister and his wife and placed in other foster
homes.
It turns out that my exuberant exploitation of
Melissa's body had led to an unexpected outcome:
I had gotten Melissa pregnant.
Child services descended on the house like a horde of
locusts, moving swiftly to end what they called a
situation of possible child sexual abuse and imminent
danger to the children in the home.
They tried to prosecute the Minister and his wife for
abuse, but failed when the physical evidence didn't
support their charges. That didn't help the Minister
though. The intense publicity surrounding the investi-
gation ultimately killed him. He passed away in his
sleep shortly after her was exonerated.
And it didn't help Melissa. She was still stuck with
an unwanted and unexpected baby inside her. And no idea
how such a thing had happened. No doubt, Child Services
was interrogating her trying to find out who the father
was, or pressuring her to abort or give up the child. I
couldn't know, since I couldn't talk to her or find out
where she was.
Forger's can't read minds, so it wasn't like I could
poke into the fucking social workers warped mind to
find Melissa. I was beside myself. I had figured out
after some consideration that I had killed my family
that day coming back from Florida.
Now I had, in effect, killed my new family. Each time
the same outcome from my ability to fog.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
strangers. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex
with strangers!! You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 8