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Rick Logan seethed as he fidgeted on the couch. He
was fed up with waiting. Every time he went out with
Candace, she would pull this little game with him. She
would greet him at the door with a bright smile, and
usher him into her living room. Then she would take
on an apologetic expression and explain that she hadn't
had time to get ready yet, and ask if he would mind
waiting a few minutes.
Rick always assented. At first, he'd done this because
he was a very patient person, and it didn't matter to
him if they were a few minutes late. But after being
kept waiting for half an hour for each of their first
five dates, he'd begun to get irritated.
So on the sixth date, he'd deliberately shown up fifteen
minutes late, in order to give her some extra time to
prepare. He'd figured it was the easiest possible solution
to the problem. There was no point in haranguing Candace
about her tardiness when he could just as easily adjust
his own schedule.
Unfortunately, the plan had backfired. When he'd arrived
late at her apartment, she'd met him at the door with
an angry glare. She'd chastised him for being late,
complaining that she'd been ready right on time, that
he was a jerk for being late, and that she'd appreciate
it if he would try to be a bit more timely in the future.
He should've argued with her, and had it out right
then and there. He should've pointed out that _she_
was the one who'd kept him waiting for the first five
dates, and that he'd only been trying to solve the problem
in a manner that would involve the least inconvenience
for both of them.
But he hadn't. He'd been afraid that starting an argument
might damage or destroy their budding relationship.
He remembered seeing a calculating glint in her eye,
as though she'd been testing him, to see whether he'd
rebel or not. And he hadn't. He'd meekly agreed that
it was his fault, and that he'd try to be on time more
often.
And that, Rick reflected, was his problem. He was
never good at confrontations. In any dispute, he would
always take the easy way out. That was probably why
he'd been stuck in the same dead-end job for six years,
working in the mailroom of a large medical-supply company.
No promotion, no pay raise. Nothing. And that pretty
much summed up his life.
Candace Cunningham turned her head and looked at the
clock next to the bed, her soft brown hair twisting
across the pillow as she did so. Twenty-five minutes.
She decided that she'd kept Rick waiting long enough.
With a grunt of exertion, she lifted herself off the
bed.
She looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed
her hair. She kept it simple, brushing it straight down
her back. It was important to keep it neat and simple,
so that Rick didn't get an inflated notion of how important
he was to her. Men were nice enough as diversions, but
they were hardly one of the necessities of life.
Candace pondered her relationship with Rick as she
looked through her wardrobe for something to wear. It
was so much trouble to find clothes for a woman that
weren't degrading. After all, the vast majority of clothes
were designed by men who could only view a woman as
a sex object. Shoes that sacrificed stability and comfort
for the sake of putting a curve in the back of the leg,
skirts that were designed to bring about thoughts of
sex in men, blouses that practically put breasts on
display... it was disgraceful. She settled on a pair
of brown slacks, a flowery button- down shirt and a
pair of brown loafers. Stylish, yet comfortable. She
was ready for the evening. She didn't own any makeup
or jewelry; these, too, were male inventions designed
with the debasement of woman in mind.
Rick stood as Candace entered the living room, sighing
in wonder as he did every time he saw her face. She
was quite beautiful. Wide brown eyes gazed out under
thick eyebrows. High cheekbones framed an aqualine nose,
and a wide mouth smiled beneath it. A thick mane of
chestnut brown hair fell down her back, framing her
face.
Though the slacks and shirt hid it, Rick knew her
body to be quite attractive. Years of vegetarian eating
had given her a thin, though not quite willowy figure.
Her breasts were small but quite pert, and her legs
and ass thin, but shapely.
For the hundredth time, Rick looked at her, thinking
that if only she would put some effort into it, she
could be dynamite. All she'd need was the right clothes,
a little makeup, and some jewelry and she could be sexy
as all hell. But he knew what she thought on these subjects,
and didn't want to get an earful, so he let it lie.
"You look fabulous."
"Thanks," she replied. "Let's go."
Rick treated her to a nice dinner at a charming Italian
restaurant. They talked about the usual things; the
weather, politics, movies, her job. Candace was an editor
for Woman's Work, a prominent and rather militant feminist
magazine.
Rick had read a few issues of the magazine at her
urging, and was rather distuurbed by its contents. Rick
fully supported most of the ideals of the women's movement,
but he thought Woman's Work was far too radical. He
hadn't said as much to Candace, though. Not yet.
Although the content of their conversation was not
unusual, Rick detected a certain weariness in Candace's
manner. But their dinner ended without incident, and
Rick drove her home as usual.
It was with a sense of relief that Candace closed
the door behind her after Rick dropped her off. Thank
god that was over!
When she'd first started going out with Rick, they'd
had a good time. She'd been amused by his quick mind
and ready wit. And he was pretty handsome, too. Candace
had had high hopes at the beginning that Rick would
turn out to be different from other men. But as the
weeks and months wore on, it'd become obvious that that
wasn't the case.
He'd begun to pay increasing amounts of attention
to her body. She'd caught a number of sidelong glances
at her breasts and ass. It was so frustrating! Try to
have a decent, equal- status relationship with a man,
and you always wound up being viewed as a sex object.
She had to admit to herself, though, that she enjoyed
the attention. It was fun to play with mens' minds,
get them aroused and watch them boil in frustration.
Served them right, for all they'd done to keep her gender
in the dirt.
And it had been fun to do it to Rick, once she'd discovered
that he was just an ordinary mind-in-the-pants sleazeball
like all the rest. She'd occasionally arrange things
so that her breast would press againt his arm, or her
hand would innocently brush his crotch. Sometimes she
could see him getting hard through his pants. She enjoyed
the control she had over him.
But ultimately, it was getting stale, and even dangerous.
Rick was starting to get bolder. Several times he'd
tried to kiss her, and she'd had to make up some clever
ruse on the spot to avoid it. She knew what men were
capable of - rape, or worse - and she didn't want to
risk provoking the rapist in Rick.
So it was time to get someone new. Tomorrow, she decided,
she'd dump him. They already had dinner plans, and she
could break it to him gently. Tomorrow.
Rick went to work the next day feeling more depressed
than ever about his relationship with Candace.
"Yo, Rick!" Rick looked up in the direction
the voice had come from just in time to see a small
package sailing toward him through the air. He caught
it deftly. "That needs to go up to Briggs, pronto!"
The voice belonged to Harvey Sheldon, the mail room
chief. "It's several hours late, and he's been
calling me every fifteen minutes since six this morning."
"On my way," Rick responded without enthusiasm,
heading for the elevator. Damon Briggs, vice-president
for marketing, was the primary reason Rick had been
stuck in this dead-end job for so long. Three times
Rick had applied for open positions in marketing, and
three times Briggs had turned him down, despite the
fact that he had clearly been the best-qualified candidate
all three times.
Rick punched the elevator button for the marketing
floor, visualizing Briggs's slack-jowled, bulldog face.
"The problem with you, Rick," said Briggs's
voice, echoing in his head, "is that you just don't
have the drive. Sure, you look good on paper, but you
just don't have that special something it takes to make
it in the corporate world. Probably never in your life
are you gonna grab the bull by the balls, Rick. I really
don't think you belong here."
And of course, he'd just sat there and taken it, as
he'd taken so many other things in his life. A stronger
person, Rick thought, would have stood up to Briggs,
demanded a chance to prove himself. But he'd just sat
there and listened to Briggs drive him into the ground.
The elevator pinged as it reached the 25th floor,
where the marketing department was located. Rick stepped
out and strode through the glass doors into the marketing
lobby.
"Morning, Rick," said Jennifer Cipriani,
Briggs's secretary. Jennifer was a pudgy Mediterranean
woman who looked to be about thirty. Her face was rather
pretty, with strong classical features, but the fact
that she was about thirty pounds overweight kept her
from being attractive, in Rick's view.
Unfortunately, he'd had to brush off a number of passes
she'd made at him. In spite of this, though, they'd
become friends, and shared between them a certain wry
humor regarding Briggs.
The standard half-eaten bar of chocolate lay in its
wrapper on her desk. Jennifer nibbled absentmindedly
at it as she scribbled Briggs's signature on a sheaf
of papers. "What can I do for you?" she asked,
looking up and smiling at Rick.
"Morning, Jen. Package for Mr. Briggs."
"Oooh, he's been waiting for that all morning.
Better take it in. He's alone right now." Jennifer
spoke into the intercom. "Rick's here with that
packace, Mr. Briggs."
"Thanks, Jen," Rick said, walking past her
desk to the big oak doors. A large gold-finished plate
announced the entrance to "The Office of Damon
Briggs, Vice-President of Marketing." Rick pushed
the doors open and strode in.
The corpusculent form of Damon Briggs greeted him
from behind the desk. "Rick! Good to see you again!"
he exclaimed without much sincerity. "Let's have
it." A pudgy hand reached for the package. Rick
passed it over to him. "Thanks, Rick," Briggs
said, eagerly tearing the package open.
Rick turned and left, waving goodbye to Jennifer as
he headed to the elevator. He'd almost made it when
Briggs's yell of anguish hit him from behind.
"No! Dammit, dammit, dammit!"
Rick turned just in time to see Briggs storm out of
the office, the opened package in one hand. "The
stupid bastards screwed up again! Jennifer, get on the
phone to Dexalco and tell them we wanted tetracamine,
not tetracaTHALamine. Make sure whichever moron you
speak to understands the difference between four syllables
and five. Christ."
Briggs's jaw worked furiously as he strode over to
Rick and thrust the package into his hands. "Take
this down to pharmaceutical disposal, Rick, and get
rid of it."
Rick accepted the package and watched as Briggs strode
angrily back to his office. Jennifer, already dialing
the phone, looked ruefully at him. "It's a great
day already, Rick!" she said.
"Good luck with Briggs," Rick replied, and
headed for the elevator. Curiously, he examined the
contents of the package.
There were six small vials of liquid and several sheets
of paper. Rick glanced over the top sheet as he waited
for the elevator.
Beneath the letterhead of Dexalco Pharmaceuticals
was a short description of the drug.
TETRACATHALAMINE: Strong hypnotic drug. Dosage of
5 drops standard solution will put a 125-pound subject
into a deeply suggestible mental state in approximately
thirty minutes. Standard hypnotic techniques may then
be used. Required dosage varies with weight. No known...
Rick was interrupted by the chime of the arriving
elevator. He stuffed the paper back into the box as
a gray-haired executive walked past him out of the elevator.
He could get into big trouble for reading mail.
Rick stepped into the elevator and pressed the button
for the third floor, where the company's pharmaceutical
disposal unit was located. Federal law required the
disposal of unused narcotics according to a complex
set of safety guidelines.
The elevator doors closed and the car descended. Rick
pondered what he'd read, an idea slowly creeping into
his mind. Could he... make use of the drug? He could
drug Candace, hypnotize her to be more friendly toward
him, to...
No, he couldn't do that. The thought of forcing a
woman to have sex with him was revolting. Even a hypnotized
sexual partner was still, in reality, an unwilling one.
Besides, he had to take the drug to the disposal unit.
These things were tracked carefully, and if the package
wasn't handed over to the disposal technicians, it would
eventually be traced to him, and he'd be in trouble.
The package had to go to disposal. And that was that.
But what if...
Rick looked in the box again. Six vials of liquid.
What if there were only five when it got to the dispossal
techs? Would they notice? Maybe. He wasn't sure how
thoroughly they checked these things.
But if they did notice, how likely would they be to
track it down? Probably not very likely, he guessed.
After all, they dealt with several thousand bottles
and packages every day. What would one missing vial
count for among all that?
But could he possibly bring himself to do this sort
of thing? It was immoral to hypnotize people for your
own gain. Wasn't it? Unbidden, Briggs's face appeared
in Rick's mind. "You're probably never gonna grab
the bull by the balls, Rick."
Rick snatched one of the vials out of the package
and thrust it into his pocket just as the elevator doors
opened. Nonchalantly, he strode to the disposal desk,
placing the package on the counter. "Package from
Briggs," he informed the technician behind the
desk, fighting to keep the tremor from his voice.
The tech took it and made a cursory examination of
the contents. "Thanks. Here's your receipt."
Rick took the receipt and hurried to the elevator
before his nervousness could show. Flush with success,
he reached into his pocket and fingered the vial.
***********************************
When he got back to the mailroom, Rick found himself
in the middle of a crisis. Three regular mailbags from
the Los Angeles office had run into unexpected delays
and had all arrived while Rick was running the errand
for Briggs. It took the rest of the day for the mailroom
staff to get all the backed-up mail delivered. Consequently,
Rick forgot about the vial.
He arrived at Candace's aparment promptly at 7:00
that evening, right on time for their dinner date. Half
an hour later, they left and went to a vegetarian restaurant
that Candace liked. Rick hated vegetarian food, but
it was all she would eat. This meant that most of the
time, he had to eat it as well. Occasionally, they would
go to a normal restaurant, where she would get a salad
or something non-meaty. At those places, he occasionally
got a meat dish, but she made her disapproval evident
whenever he did this.
During their dinner conversation, Rick detected the
same weariness in Candace's manner he'd seen last night.
But it was stronger tonight. She seemed to be a bit
nervous about something. After finishing the meal, they
ordered after-dinner drinks. Candace excused herself
to go to the restroom.
Rick took the opportunity to ponder the situation.
What had her so worked up? It was as though she had
something really big she needed to get off her chest.
Something...
Of course! She was going to dump him! She was trying
to find the right moment to tell him. He felt a surge
of anger wash over him. Dammit, they'd been dating for
months, he'd paid for every meal, and he hadn't gotten
so much as a kiss from her. Why had she strung him along
for so long? He leaned back, thrusting his hands into
his pockets...
...and his fingers burshed against the glass vial.
He started, remembering it for the first time since
getting out of the elevator. Slowly, carefully, he pulled
it out of his pocket and held it up to the light. Inside,
the clear liquid sloshed around.
Rick gazed at the vial. It wasn't right to do this
to someone, but... dammit, she'd been such a bitch.
He could see it now. She'd strung him along, using him
as a source of free food while keeping him at arms'
length emotionally and physically, teasing him all the
while to keep up his interest. She had manipulated him,
coldly and cynically, and it was only fair to give her
a little taste in return.
Resolved, Rick unscrewed the top of the bottle, pulling
out the built-in dropper. He filled the dropper and
struggled to recall the writing on the sheet. Five drops.
Yes, that was it. Placing the dropper over Candace's
drink, he squeezed and watched the drops fall. One...
two... three... four... five. Hurriedly, he screwed
the cap back onto the top of the bottle and shoved it
back into his pocket.
Candace reappeared a moment later and took her seat.
They talked and drank as they sipped their drinks. Rick
watched Candace for any sign that the drug was affecting
her behavior, and found none. But the sheet had said
thirty minutes, hadn't it? He thought so, but it was
hard to remember.
They finished their drinks and began the drive home,
continuing the incessant conversation. It was as though
they were both talking more excitedly and animatedly,
and with more feigned interest, because they both knew
that something bad was coming up, Rick mused.
He took no notice when her participation began to
drop off. She stopped offering her own ideas and opinions,
and started simply agreeing to whatever he said. Gradually,
her responses became monosyllabic.
Suddenly, he realized what had happened.
"Candace?" he ventured.
"Mmm. Yes?" she responded, staring ahead
out the front of the car.
"How are you feeling?"
She thought for a moment. "Fine, I guess."
Her face remained forward. Take it slowly, Rick told
himself. Make sure it's working. "Look out the
window to your right," he said.
"Okay." Her head swiveled ninety degrees
to the right, and remained facing that way. She made
no other move.
Rick couldn't believe it. Here was the most independent-
minded woman he'd ever met, accepting his odd suggestions
as though they were perfectly natural. He racked his
brain to recall what he could of hypnosis.
The important thing seemed to be that the subject
wouldn't respond to all suggestions, just those that
seemed reasonable. So having her, say, engage in sex
with him right here in the car was probably out of the
question. Take it slowly, he admonished himself again.
"Candace?"
"Yes?" Her voice was muffled; Rick realized
she was still looking out the window.
"Face forward again." She did so immediately.
"I want you to answer the questions I ask honestly
and completely."
"Okay," she agreed.
"What do you think of me?"
"I thought you were a nice guy when we first
met, but lately I've come to realize that you're just
like all the other men."
Hmmm. This was interesting. "And what are other
men like?"
"They're only interested in sex. They can only
view women as sex objects. They'd probably rape any
woman they could if they thought they could get away
with it."
This was really unusual, Rick thought. He'd known
she was very much into women's liberation, even to the
point of being somewhat bitter toward men in general,
but he'd had no idea she harbored such a misandronistic
streak. "So... you think I would rape you if I
thought I could get away with it?"
"Well, not necessarily. But after we'd been together
long enough, I'm sure you'd do it eventually. That's
why I'm planning to break up with you when you drop
me off."
So his instincts had been on the right track, Rick
thought. "What made you realize that I'm like that?"
"The way you keep looking at my body. You look
at my breasts, or my butt, or my legs. I can tell you're
thinking about having sex with me. It's quite demeaning."
"Have you ever had sex with a man?"
"No. I could never let a man have that sort of
power over me. Besides, I can bring myself more pleasure
masturbating than any man could ever give me."
"Really?"
"Yes. Men only care about themselves."
A thought crossed Rick's mind. "Have you ever
had sex with another woman?"
"No."
Rick paused for a moment, considering what to do.
The first priority was to preserve the relationship.
If he stopped seeing Candace, no amount of drug could
get what he wanted.
But, he reminded himself again, it was important to
be careful in this, and take things in slow, natural
steps.
How best to do this? he wondered. He didn't have the
foggiest clue as to what was the best way to make a
suggestion, so he decided to just try the easy way.
"Candace?"
"Yes?"
"You don't really think I'm as bad as other men,"
Rick said in what he hoped was a calm voice. "Sure,
I'm still a man, and that carries some intrinsic meaning,
but I'm actually very civilized compared to most. Isn't
that right?"
Her face scrunched up in thought. "Yes, I suppose
so. You're not nearly as bad as I thought."
"In fact, maybe you don't need to break off our
relationship just yet. You could probably date me safely
for at least another month. Don't you think so?"
"Yes... yes, that's right. I don't need to dump
you just yet." She sat back, pleased at her realization.
Rick smiled a bit at her choice of words. It was funny
that she should talk about dumping him when he was clearly
the one in control. He decided to take one more small
step tonight. "And when I look at you, like I want
to have sex with you, you won't find it disgusting anymore.
In fact, when you see me looking at your body, you'll
get a little excited by it. Almost like you were masturbating.
Not really stong, but noticeable... and pleasurable.
Okay?"
She shrugged. "Okay." Rick decided to hold
it there for the evening. He didn't want to press his
luck. But he had to clean up after himself. What was
the mumbo-jumbo that hypnotists did when they were done?
"Candace, I'm going to start slowly counting down
from five. You're going to feel your mind get fuzzier
and more confused as I do so. When I reach one, you
will have forgotten everything that's happened since
I asked you how you were feeling a few minutes ago.
Remember that?"
"Uh-huh."
"Good. All you'll be able to remember will be
that we had a nice conversation on the way home. All
right?"
"Okay."
"Here we go. Five... four... three... two...
one." Candace made no movement, simply staring
ahead. Carefully, Rick tried to restart the conversation.
"So... have you tried that new Chinese takeout
place?"
"No."
Well, Rick thought, even if he'd successfully caused
her to block out the conversation, she'd still be under
the influence of the drug. He continued to talk as though
they were having a perfectly ordinary conversation.
Gradually, her speech moved from monosyllabic responses
to simple statements of agreement. Soon she was back
into the swing of things, offering up her own opinions
and ideas in response to Rick's. He relaxed, confident
that she'd forgotten their earlier conversation.
Rick dropped her off at her apartment. She never invited
him in, so there was no point in parking. "Thanks
for dinner, Rick," she said sweetly.
"You're welcome," he responded, glancing
at her chest. She flushed a little at that, and opened
her mouth as though about to say something.
But whatever words had been about to come out froze
in her mouth, and a puzzled look crossed her face. Rick
did his best to look confused. "Candace?"
"Ummm... oh, nothing. Nothing," she said
hurriedly. "How about dinner tomorrow?"
"Sounds good. Seven o'clock?"
"Sure. See you then." She got out of the
car, closed the door, and hurried up to the building.
Rick smiled, pleased with a job well done, as he drove
off into the night.
Candace paused at the door to her building. Why had
she done that? She'd planned the whole evening to dump
Rick when he dropped her off. Why hadn't she done it?
And why the hell had she been so... excited... by that
glance he'd given her breasts?
Confused, she unlocked the door and hurried up the
stairs to her apartment. Dammit, it had just been another
one of those lustful sex-crazed male looks at her body.
Those had never had any effect on her before, other
than inspiring disgust at men in general. Why had that
glance from Rick seemed so... different?
She entered the apartment and sat down on the couch
to think. Rick seemed... different, somehow. Less of
a creep. Kinder. In fact, why had she been planning
to dump him in the first place?
She thought back to the reasoning she'd used earlier,
when she'd made the decision to dump him. None of it
seemed to make sense anymore. Well, at any rate, Rick
would probably be worth having around for at least...
oh, at least another month. Over the course of the next
week and a half, Rick took Candace out to dinner five
times, and often to a movie afterward. For the most
part, her manner on these dates was unchanged. But several
times Rick let her catch him looking at her breasts,
ass or legs. Rick noted with pleasure the flush of excitement
that rushed into her face. She would nervously look
away whenever this happened. He was enjoying their time
together quite a bit more, knowing that his glances
got her excited.
When he was at work, however, he was a nervous wreck.
He toiled at his job in dread, constantly worried that
some inventory-checker somewhere would discover the
missing vial of drug and trace it to him. Every time
the P.A. system came on, Rick's heart leapt into his
throat. The only positive effect of the whole ordeal
was that his nerves drove him to work very hard at his
job, earning quite a bit of admiration from his supervisor.
On his fifth date with Candace since he'd hypnotized
her, Rick got his second chance. Again, it was just
after the empty dinner plates had been cleared away
and the after-dinner drinks served. Candace took a few
sips of her drink and excused herself to go to the bathroom.
Rick shot a look at her breasts as she got up, causing
her once again to get flustered and hurry away.
Smiling, Rick waited until she was out of sight and
pulled the bottle out of his pocket. Measuring carefully,
he dispensed five drops into her drink, swirling the
glass slightly in order to mix the drug thoroughly.
Candace returned in a few minutes. They finished their
drinks and began the drive home. As before, Candace
gradually allowed her end of the conversation to drop
off into simple yes's and no's. When Rick was confident
that the drug had taken effect, he decided it was time
to begin.
"How are you feeling, Candace?" "Fine."
"How are your toes feeling?"
A brief shrug. "Fine."
All right, then. "So how do you feel around me?"
She sighed. "Excited. It really affects me when
you look at my breasts or my legs like you want to have
sex with me. I mean, I know it's the ordinary male lust,
but for some reason, when you do it, it has this effect
on me."
"So you enjoy it when I look at your body?"
"Yes, I do."
"You'd enjoy it even more if I looked at your
body more often, then, wouldn't you?"
Color was rising in her cheeks. She smiled happily.
"Oh, yes, I'd enjoy that very much."
"Well, there are a couple things you could do
to make me look at you more often."
"Really? What?"
"You could wear some different clothes. Like
a skirt that would let some of your legs show, or a
blouse that was cut low enough to give a glimpse of
your breasts."
She frowned. "No, I couldn't wear those things.
They're... degrading. They'll make me a sex object."
Oops. Well, what could he do to control the damage?
"But there are plenty of long, conservative skirts
that don't reveal much. And blouses that just give a
nice view of your upper chest without showing too much
of your breasts. Plenty of women wear those. Why don't
you try a couple of outfits like that next time you're
at the store, and buy a few?"
"Hmmm. Well, okay. It _will_ get me more looks
from you, I guess."
"Also, a little bit of lipstick might help."
"Mmmm... okay, I'll try that, too."
"Good girl. And while we're on the subject, you're
going to continue to get excited whenever I look at
your body. In fact, it's going to get you even more
excited than it has been. Okay?"
"Okay," she agreed.
"So I must be kind of special to you, if I make
you feel this way, huh?"
"Well, yes, I suppose that's true. Nobody else
makes me feel like that."
"Don't you think you should show me how special
I am? I mean, do something nice to let me know what
I mean to you?"
"Like what?"
"When I drop you off tonight, you can kiss me.
Nothing fancy, just a quick peck on the lips. I'll be
surprised by it. And it'll let me know how special I
am."
"All right, I'll give you a kiss. But that's
all."
"Fine. And when you kiss me, you'll feel a surge
of pleasure, like you do when I look at you, only stronger."
"Okay."
Rick paused for a moment, a thought percolating up
through his mind. He'd accomplished all he really needed
to this time, but there was one other thing he was curious
to try. Just for fun... "One last thing, Candace.
The way you've been getting excited by me looking at
you. You're going to start feeling that way when other
men look at your body. Not as much as you do for me,
but you'll still feel the excitement. Got that?"
"Okay."
Satisfied with his work, Rick led her through the
procedure to erase the memory of the conversation from
her brain. Gradually, the drug wore off, and her conversational
skills picked up again as they arrived at her place.
Candace looked at Rick as he stopped the car in front
of her building. He was so... so different.
When she was around him, she felt so... wonderful.
It was impossible to describe. Suddenly, some deep part
of her subconscious took control of her body. She leaned
over and put her lips to Rick's.
An electric thrill shot down her spine at the touch
of his lips. She pulled away, startled, trying to compose
herself. "Umm... uh... Thanks for dinner, Rick.
We're still on for tomorrow, right?" She made a
queasy smile in an attempt to hide her nerves.
"Sure, Candace," he replied, smiling broadly.
"Pick you up at eight?"
"Uh... yeah, yeah. Okay, see ya!" She hurried
out of the car, closing the door behind her, and trotted
up to the steps. She heard the car accelerate down the
street.
What was coming over her? All her life, she'd striven
to be the very model of the independent female, dependent
on men for nothing, least of all emotional well-being,
and here she was going all goo-goo eyed over Rick! She
wasn't so much bothered by the fact that she'd kissed
him as by the reason she'd kissed him. Why did he have
this power over her?
Confused, she strode up the stairs to her apartment.
Rick glanced back at Candace in the rear-view mirror
as he drove off down the street. Perfect. She was slowly,
but surely, falling in love with him.
The hypnotic drug had given him the key to a more
balanced, a more equal relationship.
With a few more uses of the drug, he could guide Candace
and himself in a deep, lasting love, the kind that he'd
dreamed of having when he'd first met her.
But something bothered him. Was that what he really
wanted, a deep, lasting, "equal" relationship?
Or was he really after something else? It wouldn't
have occurred to him to question his own motives if
not for that one additional suggestion he'd given to
Candace.
She would get turned on by other men looking at her.
Why had he done that?
Rick pondered these questions as he drove on into
the night.
Candace's Education Two
Rick realized when he got home that he faced a rather
critical short-term problem: his supply of the hypnotic
drug was low. Looking into the tiny vial, he estimated
that at most three doses of the fluid remained. He'd
have to get more.
He pondered the problem as he went to bed that night.
He had no way to get more himself; he was just a mail
clerk. He'd have to make use of Briggs, hypnotize him
and get him to order some more. But how best to go about
it?
The next morning, he took the half-full vial with
him to work, hoping for some excuse to go to Briggs'
office. Typically, he was sent up there several times
a week, but it could be days until it happened next.
Luck was on his side. A sample of a new anitibiotic
had arrived for Briggs. Rick thought about volunteering
to take it up, but didn't want to arouse suspicion.
Harvey Sheldon, the mail room supervisor, knew that
Rick hated Briggs with a passion, and would probably
take note of his sudden enthusiasm to see "The
Marketing Monster." So Rick remained calm and casual,
and got lucky. Sheldon told him to take the package
up.
Rick rode the elevator up to the Marketing Department.
"Hi, Jen," he greeted the secretary. "Got
a package here for Briggs."
"Oh, hi, Rick." Jennifer smiled at him.
"Why don't just leave that here, and I'll give
it to him, okay?"
"Uh..." Rick thought fast. "I'm afraid
I can't do that. Mr Briggs has to sign for it personally."
"Oh." Jennifer frowned at the unusual request.
"Well, okay, then, why don't you just take it on
in, then."
"Thanks, Jen," Rick responded, relieved.
He strode through the doors into Briggs's lair. "Package
for you, sir."
"Mmm..." Briggs took the package from Rick's
outstretched hand. "Oh, all right. Thanks, Rick."
Rick paused awkwardly before leaving. "Uh..."
His eyes searched Briggs's desk, settling on an empty
coffee mug. "Can I get you some more coffee, sir?"
Briggs was taken aback by the unusual offer. "Huh?"
"W-Well, sir, I... thought you might like some
more coffee," Rick repeated stupidly.
Briggs thought for a moment, and shrugged. "Sure.
Here you go. No cream, no sugar."
Rick took the offered mug and walked out of the office.
Jennifer looked up as he came out, saw him carrying
the mug, and quickly picked hers up off the desk. "Could
you get me some, too, Rick?" she asked, thrusting
the mug toward him with one hand, nibbling on a block
of chocolate with the other.
"Sure thing, Jen," he replied, taking the
mug. Rick trotted down the hall to the coffee machine
and filled up the mugs, adding a touch of cream to Jennifer's.
Carefully, he measured out five droplets of the fluid
and dripped them into Briggs's mug. He was about to
put the vial with what was left of the fluid back in
his pocket when something occurred to him.
He looked down the hall to where Jennifer sat behind
the desk, her overweight body crammed into an office
chair. He'd always felt sorry for her, for her seeming
inability to control her appetite, and her craving for
chocolate. He'd been planning to use the last of the
fluid on Candace, but...
If his plan worked, he'd have all of the drug he needed.
And if it didn't, he would only have one more dose,
and that wasn't enough to make much of a difference
with Candace. So why not use it to do Jennifer a favor?
Decided, he poured half the remaining fluid, one more
dose, into Jennifer's coffee. Replacing the empty vial
in his pocket, he carried the coffee back up the hall.
"Here you go, Jen," he said as he passed
her the mug.
"Oooh, thanks, Rick," she responded, taking
the coffee and sipping it. She smiled at the taste.
"You got it just right."
"Of course I did," he remarked casually,
carrying the second mug into Briggs's office. "Here
you go, sir. Black."
Briggs took the mug and sipped at it. "Thanks,
Rick."
"Anytime, Mr. Briggs. Anytime," Rick said
as he walked out the door. Briggs shot him a quizzical
look in response to his casual manner. Rick ignored
it.
Half an hour later, after making the regular 11:00
mail run to the fifth floor, Rick returned to Marketing
to see if the drugs had taken effect. Jennifer sat at
her desk, looking blankly at the papers before her,
her hands resting calmly on the desktop.
"Jennifer?" Rick asked.
"Hmm. Yes?"
Rick tried to think of something to ask next, something
unusual, but not so unusual as to make him look like
an idiot if the drug hadn't taken effect. "So...
been abducted by any UFO's recently?" he asked,
mentally kicking himself afterwards.
"No," she replied calmly.
Rick took this as proof enough that she was under
the drug. "You really like chocolate, don't you?"
he asked nonchalantly.
"I love it."
"You eat it a lot?"
"Three bars a day. Plus some ice cream at home
in the evening."
"Well, you know it's bad for you, don't you?
You're overweight because you eat so much chocolate."
"Yes, I know. I try to give it up all the time,
but I just can't. I become a nervous wreck. It's like
I'm addicted to it."
Rick had no idea whether or not he could cure her
condition, but he decided it was worth a shot.
"I think from now on, you're going to find you're
not so interested in chocolate. As a matter of fact,
it just tastes bad to you. You don't know why exactly,
but it does. And you won't want to eat it anymore."
"As a matter of fact, you're going to find that
sweets in general aren't very tasty. Understand?"
"Okay. Whatever you say."
"And you're going to start being concerned about
getting in shape. You're going to join a fitness club
and work out regularly three times a week. Concentrate
on your chest and your legs, but make sure to get well-conditioned
overall. Okay?"
"Sure."
"Good girl." Rick didn't want to leave her
at her desk in a suggestible state. If some passerby
found her like this, it would seem pretty weird.
"Jennifer, why don't you go to the ladies' room
right now, find yourself a stall, and sit in it for
fifteen minutes or so? Then you can come back to your
desk. When you do, you will have forgotten all about
this conversation we had, okay?" Rick hoped this
would give her enough time to come down from the drug.
"Sure thing, Rick," she said, getting up
and walking down the hall. He watched her, smiling.
A new leaf had turned over in her life, he thought.
Rick turned and strode into Briggs's office, calm
and confident. Thus he was quite startled to be greeted
by Briggs's angry roar.
"What the hell are you doing walking into my
office?"
Rick froze, in fear for his job and his career, transfixed
by the angry, reddened face of Damon Briggs. His mind
whirled.
Think, dammit, think! he told himself. Why was Briggs
yelling at him? Did he not drink the coffee?
A quick glance at Briggs's desk confirmed that he
had in fact drunk the coffee. What, then? Rick thought
quickly through all he knew about the drug and hypnosis
in general.
It occurred to him that even if Briggs was in a suggestible
state, that wouldn't necessarily keep him from reacting
to an unusual situation, such as a mailroom clerk barging
into his office without warning. The only thing to do
was to try to convince Briggs that this wasn't at all
unusual.
"Ummm, well, it isn't that unusual for me to
walk into your office, is it, Mr. Briggs?" he asked
nervously.
Briggs's brow furrowed. "Well..." he began.
Rick cut him off, pressing the attack. "In fact,
it's downright ordinary. I can walk into your office
whenever I want. Right?"
Briggs thought for a moment. "Well, yes, now
that you mention it, it seems perfectly normal. Yes."
He nodded to himself, convinced. "Sorry for yelling
at you," he said, in a tone that didn't sound very
apologetic. Even in a suggestible state, Rick realized,
Briggs was still an asshole.
He decided not to mess with the formalities, and used
Briggs's first name. "I can call you Damon, can't
I?" he asked.
"Sure, Rick."
"Damon, remember those samples of tetracathalamine
that I brought in last week? The ones that got sent
here by mistake?"
"Yes. Yes, I do."
"Listen to me carefully. It turns out that you
actually do need some tetracathalamine. Thirty minutes
after I leave this office today, you are going to have
Jennifer call up Dexalco and order ten vials of it.
Understand so far?"
"Yes." "Now listen carefully. When
it arrives, you are going to get a fresh cup of coffee
and tell Jennifer to hold all your calls. You're going
to open the package, take out the first vial, and put
five drops of the fluid into your coffee. Five drops.
No more, no less. You will drink the coffee as quickly
as possible. For the next twenty minutes, you will do
nothing. When twenty minutes has elapsed, you will call
the mailroom and ask to have me sent up to see you.
You will tell Mr. Sheldon that the situation is urgent.
Then you will sit here and do absolutely nothing until
I arrive. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Exellent. Now, what do you think of me professionally,
Damon?"
"You're a loser. You're a wimp who'll never amount
to anything. You're afraid to take action."
He said all this as though he was giving Rick his
opinion of the Yankees' chances at the penant this year.
"I see," Rick responded. None of this was
any surprise to him. "Well, you'll find your opininon
of me has changed. Now you think I'm actually a very
capable worker with a bright future in your department.
Don't you think so?"
Briggs pondered this, as though wondering why he hadn't
realized it sooner. "Why, yes, you are."
"You're so impressed you'll do anything to get
me into your deparment, won't you? In fact, you're going
to have a position ready for me when you summon me in
a few days, aren't you?"
"Why, yes, I most certainly am. I'm not going
to let some other department snatch you up!" he
said, with quite a bit of conviction.
"Someone of my talent should have an important
job, isn't that right, Damon?"
"Of course!"
"Like... Assistant Director of Marketing. Right
underneath you."
"Yes, yes... I'll serve Gadsen his notice immediately."
Rick smiled. James Gadsen, the current Assistant Director,
was a pompus ass, second only to Briggs himself in that
regard. No one would be sorry to see him go.
"But you still won't be able to get rid of Gadsen
for at least a month, will you?"
"Well, no, I guess not."
"But if you wait that long, someone else might
hire me."
"That's true. Hmmm..." Briggs took on a
thoughtful expression.
"So you'll have to hire me immediately, and just
give me a month of paid vacaion time."
Briggs brightened. "Yes, that would work."
"And I'll come in and start work when Gadsen
leaves."
"Yes, you can come in then."
"I'll have a nice, large office and my own secretary."
"Of course."
"Good, good," Rick responded. "Smart
choice. Now when I walk out that door, you are going
to forget that this conversation ever happened. And
you aren't going to answer your phone for another fifteen
minutes. Got it?"
"Got it," Briggs responded cheerfully.
Rick strode out of the office without another word.
Candace strode out of the bookstore. She clutched
her purchases tightly to her breast, as though hoping
that the writings of several prominent radical feminists
would have the power to physically deflect the admiring
glances men shot her way. She caught a pair of teenage
boys nudging each other as they looked in her direction,
and felt the blood rush to her face.
It had never been like this before. Men had always
looked at her like that, practically ever since she'd
reached puberty. She knew she was attractive by any
standard. But until now, it had been something she could
ignore, or even use to her advantage, teasing men to
get what she wanted from them.
And then, so suddenly, just a couple days ago, she'd
started feeling these sudden flashes of pleasure whenever
she noticed a man looking at her. It was almost like
she was getting horny just from the attention.
She noticed a department store to her left. It was
nothing unusual, just the same department store where
she usually bought her clothes. But this time, she noticed
something different.
Her eyes were drawn to a skirt in the display window.
It was nothing special, just an ordinary, casual white
skirt extending a foot below the mannequin's knees.
Quite conservative.
Something about it entranced Candace. Unbidden, an
image of herself in the skirt floated into her mind.
As she walked, her calves were alternately exposed by
the swishing of the skirt. Men would look her way, and...
ooh, it was so exciting.
She snapped herself out of it. She couldn't possibly
wear that thing, displaying her legs like some sort
of floozy. It would make a mockery of all she stood
for. Horny, single- minded men staring at her legs,
and Rick...
Rick, oh, Rick! The looks she could get from him!
She got excited just thinking about it! She had to have
that skirt.
Candace strolled confidently into the store, her previous
mores forgotten, and searched out the women's casual
wear section. She found a friendly salesgirl there,
who helped her try on several skirts and some matching
blouses.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she had to admit
she was quite pretty. And she didn't really mind dressing
for looks. After all, if men had so much fun looking
at her, wasn't it only fair that she should have a little
fun, too?
After a few hours, she had four skirts and three blouses
that could be combined in any number of ways. a couple
of belts, and three pairs of casual leather shoes. She
had struck up quite a rapport with the salesgirl, who
was very helpful with her advice.
The total bill was upwards of five hundred dollars.
Candace handed over her credit card, and the purchases
were charged. "Well! Anything else?" the salesgirl
asked buoyantly.
"Uh... yes. Could you point me to the cosmetics
counter?"
Rick picked Candace up that evening at eight, and
couldn't believe his eyes. She looked incredible! The
dowdy old slacks and shirt were gone, replaced by a
simple white cotton blouse and a blue denim skirt. The
half-inch heels of her shoes clicked across the sidewalk
as they walked to the car, and her skirt swayed as she
walked, giving occasional glimpses of calf.
But her face was the most amazing part of her. She'd
been attractive without makeup, but with a light coat
of lipstick, some mascara, and the faintest trace of
eyeshadow, she was positively gorgeous. He told her
so.
"Thank you, Rick," she said demurely, looking
away to hide her blush. She was clearly enjoying the
attention he was paying her. Rick was pleased. He'd
told her specifically to get the lipstick, but the rest
of the makeup was her own doing. She was really starting
to enjoy the attention she was getting.
They went to dinner at a Greek restaurant. Rick made
a point of glancing at some part of her body every few
minutes throughout the meal. Often, this would make
her get flustered and forget what she was saying. Rick
found hiself enjoying the game, trying to disrupt her
just at the most complicated part of her sentences.
She got plenty of long looks from other men. Rick
noticed many of these. Candace was less often aware
of them, since her attention was focused on Rick. Occasionally,
however, she would notice, and this would cause her
to smile in a goofy way and forget what she was saying.
They went to a movie afterward, a corny romantic comedy.
Rick got up during the last half hour to get them some
soft drinks. Before returning to the theatre, he dropped
what was left of the hypnotic drug into her drink. Being
careful to keep Candace's drink in his right hand, and
his own in his left, he went back to the theatre and
sat down.
Candace thanked him, and sucked down her drink over
the rest of the movie. When the movie let out, they
climbed into the car to drive home. As usual, Candace
gradually slipped into a trance-like state. When Rick
was sure she was under the drug's effect, he started
talking to her.
"Are you enjoying all the attention you're getting?"
"Oh, yes. It gets me so... excited."
"You mean aroused?"
"Yes, that's it. Aroused."
"Men looking at you?"
"Yes. Especially you."
Rick smiled. "Well, from now on, whenever you
see me looking at you, you're going to wonder what it
would be like to have sex with me."
"But I can't... you're a man... and men are so..."
she sputtered.
"You're just going to wonder," he reassured
her. "And tonight, when I drop you off, you're
going to give me a kiss. Not a quick kiss, like last
time, but a long, passionate kiss. You're starting to
fall in love with me, and you want me to know. Got that?"
"Yes."
"And then after you go back to your apartment,
you're going to go to bed, and you're going to masturbate.
It's going to feel very good, and you're going to have
a great orgasm. Aren't you?"
"Yes, I am." "And just before you orgasm,
you're going to think of me."
"O-okay." She was having trouble with this.
Rick decided to leave it at that.
After leading her through the memory-blocking exercise,
Rick resumed normal conversation, and the drug wore
off. Soon they were back at her apartment.
"Thanks for the evening, Rick. It was wonderful,"
she told him.
"You're welcome. I had fun, too," he replied.
She sat there, frozen, staring at him for a second,
and then slowly closed her eyes, leaning toward him.
Rick leaned toward her, and their lips met. Slowly and
softly they kissed, their tongues probing, dancing,
intertwining. At long last, Rick was getting a kiss
from the woman of his dreams.
After an eternity, they broke apart, gazing into each
other's eyes. "Thanks again, Rick," Candace
breathed softly, getting out of the car and closing
the door.
Rick smiled to himself as he watched her walk up the
steps. Two weeks ago, she'd been on the verge of dumping
him, and now, with the help of the drug, they'd just
had their first kiss. Life was wonderful.
Candace stumbled into her apartment, feeling more
confused than ever. How was this happening to her? This
was everything she had ever fought against; dependency
on a man. Why did it have to feel so good to betray
her beliefs?
Half an hour later, she flopped into bed, her clitoris
itching for attention. She shoved one hand under her
nightshirt and began rubbing gently at the sensitive
round nub between her legs. Oooh, it felt so good. Candace
had first discovered how to bring herself pleasure when
she was thirteen years old, and since then she'd perfected
the skill.
She started slowly, gently bringing her clitoris to
erection with a series of light brushes. It tickled,
but it was pure pleasure. When she was fully hard, she
gradually increased the speed and pressure of her strokes,
climbing the long hill to orgasm. With her free hand,
she caressed her breasts, rubbing the nipples until
the stood hard and erect, pointing outward from her
body.
When she felt herself approaching orgasm, she slipped
the first knuckle of her index finger into her steamy
vagina, gently stroking the top of it, bringing her
to new heights of sensation. It felt so good, much better
than those fleeting rushes she got from being looked
at by men.
Her orgasm built inexorably toward a peak. She gloried
in it, reaffirming that she and she alone held the key
to ultimate ppleasure, not some dickheaded sexist pig
men. Her orgasm reached the boiling point...
... and without warning, and image of Rick leapt into
her mind, so vivd it almost seemed real. He lay between
her legs, his erect member at the gap between her legs,
and he was pushing, pushing into her.
"No, nooooo..." she moaned, fighting to
expel the image from her mind. This was not right. But
it felt so good! She could just imagine what it would
feel like to take that massive piece of meat inside
her.
Her body overwhelmed her, the image of Rick dominating
her mind. She burst into orgasm, shrieking his name.
"Rick, Rick! Oh, Rick! Yes! Yessssss!"
Her body bounced against the bed as she struggled
to take his imaginary manhood inside her, her hips straining
as waves of pleasure rushed across her body.
She collapsed, exhausted, on the bed, the vision of
Rick fading from her mind. As the pleasure drifted away,
desperation overcame her. How could this be happening
to her? Fantasizing about having sex with a man?
Tired and more confused than ever, Candace drifted
off into a troubled sleep.
Rick walked into work the next morning tense and nervous.
Today should be the day, he thought. He got right to
work, hoping to pass the time until he was called into
Briggs's office.
He happened to be in the mailroom when the package
from Dexalco came in. He was careful not to be seen
looking at it more than casually, however. He didn't
want to arouse any suspicion. Prsently, Harvey assigned
one of the other workers to take it up to Briggs. Rick
mentally prepared himself.
Twenty-five minutes later, Harvey's phone rang, and
the word came in that Briggs wanted to see Rick. Rick
pretended to be surprised as he walked over to the elevator.
He got off at Marketing and walked over to Jennifer's
desk. He was disappointed to see that she was still
her same old overweight self. It was unreasonable, though,
to expect antything to have changed in two days. It
would take time.
He did note with satisfaction, however that there
was no chocolate bar on her desk. In fact there was
no food or drink at all except a half-eaten apple. Good
girl, he thought! He should make sure, though.
"Jennifer!" he cried in mock surprise, "No
chocolate?"
She grimaced. "Ugh. No. For some reason, I just
haven't felt like having it recently. How's it going,
Rick? What brings you up here?"
"Briggs wants to see me."
"Oooh. I'm sorry," she said sympathetically.
"Well, I hope he doesn't rip your head off. Go
on in."
"Thanks, Jen," he responded, walking through
the doors into Briggs's office.
Briggs jerked to life as he entered. "Hello,
Rick. What can I do for you?"
"The hypnotic drug came in?"
"Yep. Here it is." He gestured toward an
open box on the desk. Inside, Rick saw nine glass vials,
just like the one he'd stolen earlier. Sitting beside
the box was a tenth vial, partially full. In front of
it was a large, empty coffee mug.
"So you followed my instructions, Damon?"
Rick asked.
"Yep. To the letter."
"Everything is taken care of?"
"Sure is. You start drawing your new salary tomorrow."
"Great. Good job, Damon." Rick took one
of the vials out of the package and put it into one
of the drawers of Briggs's desk. Briggs watched with
interest.
"Now," Rick instructed him, "the bottle
you just saw is for special occasions only. You will
remember where it is, but you will never think about
it. Never, that is, unless I saiy the words 'We need
to have a talk' to you."
"When I do that, you are to immediately come
back here and get a fresh cup of coffee. You will then
put five drops of that solution into your coffee, and
drink it. From that point on, you will sit here and
do nothing until I come in and tell you otherwise. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Now, the rest of these," I indicated the
package, "were forwarded to the Philadelphia office.
You will fill out all the necessary paperwork, as though
you'd sent it there, but you will also forge a receipt
from the interoffice mail carrier. You will keep this
forged receipt in your files. As far as you know, this
package was sent to Philadelphia. Is that clear?"
"Uh-huh."
"Good." Rick took the package. He led Briggs
through the forget-this-conversation drill, and left
the office.
Jennifer was waiting outside, at her desk. She looked
at Rick with her best sympathy expression.
"So how bad was it? she asked.
Rick feigned unhappiness. "Not too bad, I guess.
He gave me the Assistant Director position."
Jennifer's big brown eyes lit up in wonder. "Really?
No, you're joking!" she said, hitting him playfully.
"Really!" Rick exclaimed, all pretense of
forlorness gone, a big smile splitting his face. "I'm
the new Assistant Director of Marketing!"
Jennifer squealed in delight, jumping up to give him
a friendly hug. Rick suffered this as best he could,
as her flabby arms enveloped him. She was a friend,
after all.
Harvey Sheldon congratulated Rick on his promotion
and gave him the rest of the day off. "Hell,"
he joked, "last thing I want to do is piss off
the new Assistant Director of Marketing!" Rick
spent the day moving what few personal effects he had
at work up to his new office and ordering furniture
and supplies from the company store.
That evening, he picked Candace up for a celebratory
dinner.
She wore a tasteful blue denim sleeveless top, a long
white cotton skirt, and a pair of sensible ladies' shoes.
She was gorgeous. Rick made sure to let his eyes roam
all up and down her body, causing her no end of pleasurable
discomfort.
They went to a pricey Italian restaurant. Rick splurged
on good wine, making sure to get Candace good and drunk.
And, as usual, he took advantage of her after-dinner
trip to the restroom to pour a little bit of the drug
into her drink.
On the way, home, Rick waited until she had slipped
into a suggestible state before discussing the evening's
activities.
"How are you feeling, Candace?"
"Happy."
"Oh? Why are you so happy?"
"Because you keep looking at my body, silly!
It gets me so... hot to be looked at like that."
Rick smiled. "Well, from now it's going to make
you even hotter, okay?"
"Okay!" she said excitedly. She seemed to
really be getting into this.
"You want to get even more attention, don't you,
Candace?"
"Oh, do I ever!"
"Well you could get more attention by dressing
the right way. A little more... provocatively."
"How do I do that?"
"Well, try some shorter skirts. Men like to see
women showing a lot of leg. And wearing blouses with
lower necklines will show more of your breasts. That's
another good eyecatcher."
"Hmm. I guess I'll try that."
"Also, high heels put a curve in the back of
the leg, which a lot of mend find really sexy. And some
simple jewelry can draw a lot of attention, too."
She pondered this for a minute, an uncertain look
on her face.
"Well, it's the truth," Rick said. "Do
it if you want to." He knew, of course, that sooner
or later she would. Changing the subject, he asked,
"Did you masturbate last night?"
Color rushed to her cheeks. "Yes, I did."
"And what happened?"
"I... I thought of you."
"How did that make you feel?"
"It was so... exciting. But I'm ashamed of it."
"Why?"
"Because you're a man! And men just want to use
women and cast them aside. I'm disgusted that I could
ever thing about letting you do that to me."
"But if it's so exciting to think about, could
it be that bad?"
"Well..."
"You're going to masturbate again tongight. And
again you're going to think about me, and you're going
to experience the most intense orgasm you've ever had.
And you're going to love it."
"Y-yes."
"Tonight, when I drop you off, you're going to
give me a long, deep kiss. It's going to feel so good.
And when I rub your nipples throught your blouse, you're
going to feel a stirring deep within, a desire to have
me inside you, filling you up. Understand?"
She was shaking, the power of his suggestions battling
with her long-held beliefs. "O-O-Okay."
Rick watched as she calmed down, his suggestion implanting
itself in her brain.
Candace snapped herself back to reality. What had
been going on? She felt woozy, as though she'd just
been asleep. But she hadn't, she knew that. She'd been
sitting in the car, riding home with Rick, and... she
couldn't remember.
"God, honey, I shouldn't have had so much to
drink," she moaned.
"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. All that wine went to your
head, huh?" Rick responded.
"Yeah, I guess so." She leaned her head
against his shoulder in a familiar way. A week ago,
she wouldn't have been able to picture herself taking
such comfort from a man, but now, here she was, leaning
on his shoulder as though it was the most natural thing
in the world.
Rick pulled up at her apartment. She looked up at
him and smiled. "Thanks for dinner," she purred,
in a dreamy voice. God, he was so... so... exciting.
"My pleasure," he responded.
She was drawn to his mouth. Slowly, slowly, she leaned
forward, closing her eyes and parting her lips. Her
conscience pleaded with her not to do this, not to give
herself to a man, but she was driven by a fire in her
loins.
He leaned over to meet her, and their lips touched,
a thrill running through her body at the contact. She
felt hot...
Her brain became aware of a gentle stroking on her
left nipple. Oh, it felt so sexy... She kissed him with
renewed vigor, mashing her lips and tongue against his
teeth. His hand on her breast was setting her aflame.
Her hand involuntarily shot to his crotch, grasping
the stiff bulge she found there, squeezing, imagining
the trasure contained within. Imagining his manhood
inside her...
No! She fought the desire. She mustn't let this happen!
with a gasp, she broke the kiss and pulled away from
Rick. He looked at her, confused.
"I... I gotta go, Rick. Bye." She got out
of the car, doing her best to keep a serious, stern
expression. She caught a glimpse of him looking at her
hard nipples showing through the fabric, and groaned
audibly. She closed the door and walked hurriedly to
the door.
"I'll call you tomorrow," he said to her
back. She turned and looked at him through the window.
He was smiling at her. She couldn't help but smile back
and wave weakly before turning back to the door. What
the hell was happening to her?
She opened the door and shot up the stairs, her clitoris
burning, aching for attention.
Rick whistled merrily as he drove home, thinking about
Candace. He could picture her running up the stairs
as fast as she could, desperate to get to her apartment
and relieve the tension in her crotch. He admitted to
himself that it was fun to see her like that, to know
that he had that effect on her.
He was quite pleased with their little conversation
about clothing. Not once had he ever commanded her to
start dressing more provocatively. But she'd been interested
all the same. And soon, he had no doubt, she would be
sporting some more new clothes.
He'd been quite surprised when she'd grabbed his cock.
In fact, he'd almost taken it as a signal that she was
going to go all the way, and he'd been quite surprised
when she pulled away. But all these feelings were new
to her, he realized, and she couldn't be expected to
realize what sort of signals she was sending.
Ah, well. He would get where he was going soon enough.
Candace stumbled into her apartment, slamming the
door in her haste. She was almost too weak to stand.
Not even bothering to turn the lights on, she threw
herself onto the couch and pulled her skirt up. She
was so horny from being with Rick all night, and the
feel of his hand on her breast...
The elastic of her panties snapped as she pulled the
wet fabric violently away from her. She bypassed her
usual opening rountine, shoving one finger deep inside
her. With her free hand, she rubbed furiously at her
erect clitoris.
The finger in her pussy slid back and forth with a
quick rhythm.
She imagined it was Rick, his hard manhood filling
her with pleasure. She imagined him thrusting in and
out of her, his body moving up and down in time with
hers.
Without warning, she came, a torrential avalanche
of pleasure rolling over her body as her fingers thrust
furiously in and out of her.
Her mind envisioned Rick's throbbing manhood shooting
its seed deep within her. She screamed in ecstacy as
the imagined semen shot into her belly, and cried out
his name.
Rick called Briggs the next day and confirmed that
he was now being paid $80,000 per year, the standard
salary for an Assistant Director. Excellent. He told
Briggs that he would come back to work at the beginning
of the next month.
He spent the day lounging around the house, relaxing.
His mind wandered to Candace, and he wondered how long
it would be before he would get into her bed. Soon,
he knew, soon. But it was so hard to be patient.
Aroused, he took a short walk to the newsstand on
the corner near his apartment. After a few minutes of
browsing, he purchased a soft-core adult magazine, one
of the slickly-produced national titles. He'd never
done this before, but the frustration of his situation
drove him to seek any release he could find.
Back at his apartment, he removed his purchase from
the brown paper bag and began to flip through it. The
magazine contained ten or so different photo sets. Most
were of lone women. Some featured two women in a lesbian
situation, and several featured women and men posing
in various sexual positions.
His eyes fixed on one of the male-female couples,
and he stopped flipping pages. He was captivated by
the woman. It wasn't so much her appearance; she was
fairly good-looking, but not unusually so for a magazine
like this.
It was the way she was dressed, and the expression
on her face, that caught his eye. She was lying on her
back, legs spread and resting on the shoulders of the
male model, who was preparing to shove his cock into
her pussy.
Her clothes were nothing short of whorish. A shiny
black leather skirt lay bunched around her waist, pulled
up by one hand to give her partner access to her pussy.
A white fishnet bodystocking had been pulled down her
chest, laying bare her breasts, which were so large
and round as to be obviously surgical. Black fishet
stockings covered her legs, and adorning her feet were
shiny black pumps with heels so long they had to be
impossible to walk on. But her face was the fascinating
part. It was well- made up, her hair immaculately styled.
With her free hand, she was gripping the man's cock,
pulling it toward her pussy. And the expression on her
face was one of pure lust. Lips open, teeth mashed together
in determination, eyes fixed on the cock in her hand.
The look that said that the cock was the only thing
on her mind, the only thing she needed. The look of
a complete slut finally getting the one thing she craved
in life.
The strength of Rick's reaction to this picture amazed
him. Never before had he found that sort of extreme
promiscuity even remotely attractive. But somehow, this
picture, this woman, completely entranced him. It was
just the fact that she seemed to have so completely
dedicated herself to the pursuit of sex, to the point
of dressing like a whore and even having her breasts
surgically enlarged.
His hand reached down to the zipper of his jeans...
Rick took Candace out every single night for the next
several weeks. When the chance arose, typically once
every two or three evenings, he slipped the hypnotic
fluid into her drink and let it take effect.
On the way home, he would question her and "touch
up" her programming, making minor adjustments here
and there, generally designed to increase the strength
of her desire for him.
Every night when he dropped her off, they would make
out for a brief period, his hand rubbing her breasts
as she nibbled his ears or kissed his neck or lips.
The first few times, these sessions ended quickly,
with Candace breaking things off abruptly and leaving.
But soon, she became more relaxed, and they spent
more and more time after each date sitting in his car
kissing and nuzzling, Candace getting deliriously hot
from Rick's attentions, and Rick getting hot from thinking
about how hot he could make Candace. And after Candace
left the car, she would always rush up to her apartment
and masturbate on the couch, dreaming of Rick's cock
filling her up.
While this was going on, Candace's wardrobe shifted
again. Now she favored sleveless blouses, often with
low necklines, and skirts that left her knees well exposed.
Often she would wear a comfortable pair of pumps with
heels around two inches in length.
This caused her ass to gyrate a little when she walked,
much to the pleasure of Rick and any other men in the
area. She wore a bit more makeup, with a brighter color
lip gloss. A few simple pieces of jewelry - a couple
earrings, a pendant, a bracelet on one arm -completed
the look. Casual and tasteful, yet quite sexy.
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