0023

It was like a voice inside her head.

A voice she couldn't resist. Turn your head, it said, and she did, and she saw him. He was small, no more than five and a half feet tall. He had short, straight black hair, and huge dark sunglasses. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, mostly open with a round gold pendant in the middle of his chest.

She would never have gone home with him, much less give him a blowjob, but the voice, the voice was demanding the blowjob, here, in a crowded bar. She walked over to him, knelt. *What am I doing* she thought.

*Whatever I want you to* came the voice's reply. *You'll do anything I ask*

*But I don't want to* she complained, as she unzipped his fly, and filched out his hardening member. Her lips went around it, and she blushed, ashamed of where she was.

*I know,* the voice replied. *I could make you want to do it, but this is so much more fun.*

She sucked on his cock, nibbling the underside in the way the voice told her he liked. One of her hands cradled his balls, while the other hiked up her skirt, and slid inside her white cotton panties.

*Your body is enjoying it,* the voice said. *I'm not making it do so, you are.*

He began thrusting into her. *Nononono* she cried. *Don't come in my mouth, please don't come in my mouth.*

*Oh that's the least of what I'll do to you.* Images poured into her mind: her fucking him, being fucked by him. Her virgin ass being fucked. Going down on "his women", being used by his friends. Her, lying on the street, her clothes rumpled and torn, only the memory of a wonderful time, a lover who had made her orgasm over and over left in her mind.

It wouldn't even have been a false memory.

*Come for me* he thought.

She did.

*You will be such a wonderful plaything* he thought to her.

Tears escaped her eyes, as she came again -- this time without the voice forcing her. She was going to make a good plaything, she knew.

And she was right.