Blackie

The Book

Chapter 3: A Weekend by the Book - II

Saturday morning, a dreamy semi-spring day crept up on Bob. He managed to get out of bed anyway. He knew the morning would give him little time to get chores out of the way...

Bob could feel the detergent powder against his skin after putting the bed clothes in to wash. The odor of sex had turned sour during the night, and he had felt obliged to get his house into a more pristine condition before Betty showed up.

Randi had left her panties and bra behind. He felt like a teenager, finding forbidden fruit. He was going to stow them away to return later. As he did, he noticed her fragrance had remained on the lingerie. He hesitated for a moment, then put them in a plastic bag in the crawl space. He didn't think Betty would explore there.

Musing, he considered the practicalities of Randi moving in as his slave. Although she volunteered, he didn't see any practical means of keeping her in line without 'adjustment'.

Not that he was bothered by the power he had over her, but it was somehow more enjoyable when she *had* to cooperate without manipulation.

Not that he'd ever be able to explain to Betty.

He turned on some music, an old Beatles album. About the time he heard the line "she came in through the bathroom window..." the doorbell rang.


Betty was in the study, working on an art project. Sometimes when she came over, it was to make use of the extra space his home afforded. She lived in an apartment about 30 minutes away, so while convenient, it wasn't exactly a trip she would make for only one purpose.

She realized that if she'd done this Friday night, she and Bob wouldn't have any time together. She was somewhat pleased that the speakers were fixed now too. She brushed something off her slacks.

Maybe, she thought, maybe Bob's the one. A real keeper, the 'Man of my dreams'. He'd stopped pushing her about sex lately too. This was a 'Good Thing' and to be admired, since it meant she could control that silly activity if they ever got married.

She dismissed the whole stream of thoughts for now, since, after all, marriage is a serious topic. She was still having fun with Bob, not ready to be completely serious yet.

She struggled to straighten out the mat she had cut for her art.


Bob, in the other room, smiled to himself after eavesdropping on her thoughts. Controlling sex was a trivial issue now that he could slip a new chain of symbols into her nervous system.

He was satisfied with reading her mind at the moment. The time would come to strip her of the misconception sex was silly. It just would have to wait.

"How long is a china man?" he called to her.

"What?" he'd gotten her attention.

"When are you going to be finished?," he shouted. "I've some yard work to do, but I might need to run some errands too."

"Go ahead, I could be a few hours. Then maybe we can go out for dinner!" she called back. He shuddered, wondering what type of culinary horror she would foist upon him this time.

He stepped out to the garage, getting the lawnmower out. Soon, he was lost in the numbing vibrations, watching the clippings that escaped through the gap between the housing and the ground. He contemplated the fate of these small clippings.


He could feel people around him.

Betty, most certainly. But across the street he could sense the kids playing on the swingset/kid fort behind the house. He could feel the couple next door, working separately on household chores. Two teenagers were hiding behind a garage making out. Mr. Graenspin two blocks over had a whale of a hangover.

The drivers of cars passing by sent out mixed signals of braking, accelerating. The mailman was frustrated by sorting the goddamn mail for the twerps in 352, but he was looking forward to delivering to that divorced Mrs. Lansing. A bicyclist was staring at the tire before him rolling along the road.

The rolling murmur of mind voices started as a trickle but was starting to roar. It was building to a shouting crescendo! Bob dropped to his knees, clutching his hands over his ears and scream, at least he thought he did. The book had done this! He hadn't expected to hear everyone at once!

Seal them out, seal them out! The alien thoughts were pounding at the gates of his mind... he had to stop them. When he could work in a few thoughts of his own he imagined a curtain around his mind. He drew it about that thing which was 'Bob' and closed in underneath.

The mass of minds quieted. He could still feel the plundering assault in throbbing waves, a little like the water of a shower pushing the curtain back. Realization dawned that his range had steadily increased and was undergoing another enormous growth. What he needed was some kind of filter, a bubble, some kind of shield he could selectively see through... and as he thought it, the shield began to form.

He found he was kneeling in the grass. Certain the entire crisis had lasted less than a handful of seconds, he continued to kneel, panting from the released pressure. It would pass, but the exertion of fighting off the effects of his power left him weak.

He had only a few more passes to make with the mower. He fought through it tenaciously.


He'd gone in the bathroom to recover. Betty, who was still diligently working, wouldn't disturb him in here. She seemed to respect some activities as sacrosanct.

He stretched out in the tub, fully dressed and leaned back. There must be a suitable way to relax after that experience. He thought his head would burst like a bad scene in a horror flick.

The best relaxation he could think of was sex.

Well, with Betty here, that was out for sure. Then the glimmerings of a plan came up from the cellars of his mind.

Testing his control of the shield he'd constructed, he looked in on the neighboring couple. He couldn't remember their names, but he could find out as he slipped into their minds.

The woman was easy to find. He was getting used to exploring women's thoughts...

She was taking a breather, sitting on the edge of her bed. She wasn't bad to look at, thought Bob, seeing her in the mirror through her own eyes.

Her brown/blonde hair was styled into a fluffy perm. Her face without make up was attractive, high cheeks, narrow nose, expressive mouth, with a round, smooth chin. Her body was athletic, not real busty, but curved and rounded at the chest. From what he could make out of her legs, she was sculpted nicely there too.

The decision came upon him, he wanted to make her, right now! It was just a matter of how to go about taking her. Thinking of his remote experience last night with his slave toys, the plan continued to grow in his mind.

He insinuated a control over the woman, making her wait at the edge of the bed.

Seeking out her husband, Bob slipped his consciousness into the man. He suppressed the other man's self into a sleep. Bob looked at his new hands, rough and callused from physical labor.

He saw he was in the man's workshop, and had been running a lathe. He cut the power to the device. It took a little searching in the man's head to sort out the layout of the house. In short order he was at the door to the bedroom.

Before him, sat his lovely wife. Whoooops! Boy, did the native mind's thoughts crept up on him. Bob sat beside her inside this other body, turning her towards him for a light lip brushing kiss. She dropped her eyes.

"Oh honey, it's the middle of the day..." Bob tickled the nerves to send signals of mild arousal through her back, legs, arms and neck.

"I'll try to make it as though we've never touched before..." he whispered into an ear he had lifted a wisp of hair away from.

She silently acquiesced to his advances.

Kicking his shoes off, he laid her back over the freshly made bed. She set her arms above her head and allowed him to sink his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues wrestled. Occasionally, he sucked one, then the other lip between his own, striving to created the physical sensations he could feel she craved. With fingertips afire, he traced the muscles of her neck. He followed the same path afterwards with the tip of his, er, her husband's, tongue.

After a moments pause to contemplate her engrossed expression, he carefully unbuttoned the first of her blouse's buttons. The skin exposed by this was treated to a gentle nibbling by his lips. Tactile sensations flooded outward from each spot he touched. He could feel the surge of excitement radiating within his own, er the other man's, body as well. Another button, another worshipful engagement of skin. He undid the third button, exposing the clasp of her bra. As he finished the skin to skin communication this time, he undid the bra's clasp, but stayed his hand from curling back the clothe.

By now she was squirming with luxurious joy. It was quiet, she, unlike his other recent conquests, was remarkably silent in her repose. When he pulled back the sides of her blouse, she began to pull it off herself, but he stopped her. She allowed him to roll her sleeves down from the shoulders one at a time, and as he did, his lips and tongue came to explore the newly exposed skin. She finally release a single low moan.

Bob reached across with a sliver of thought and magnified the sensation for her. He could see within her that she no longer had any control over her responsiveness.

Speeding the process a bit, he pulled her shorts away, leaving her clad now only in a partially opened bra, and her panties. Edging a hand down into the back of her panties, he brushed the backs of her cheeks. They clenched together under his hand beginning a hip motion of incredible delight to Bob.

The nameless woman before him watched his own motions as he stripped himself of the clothes he'd worn into the room. Moving on her own, she cupped his erect cock, a fairly normal size, in her hands and performed some of her own worshipful contact touches. He lay on his back and she began to trace her tongue all over him, with sensual little nips at his nipples.

She tossed the now useless bra aside and putting her two slender legs together, she slid the panties off over her knees, ankles, then toes. He could see the panties were drenched. Undressed, the view of her was glorious. Her pussy hair was short and curly, forming a vase shape over her crotch. Her tits were little more than an handful, with erect pointing nipples begging for attention.

He reached out to caress them. She slipped her lips over his prick. The tongue gently tickling the head of his prick, she took little nips at the skin along the length. He was surprised how agile she was at this. Then she vacuumed the entire length right down into her throat! He strained not to come yet. She began to turn this into a serious problem, diving up and down a few times, pausing, then repeating the performance.

On one of her thrusts, with penis lodged deeply in her throat, he loosed a torrent of come. He could make out the swallowing muscles on the side of her neck.

She sat up and smiled, licking any remaining drops from her lips. There was a self satisfied, somewhat superior look on her face.

Not to be completely outdone, he turned her on her back and lifted her hips. He started nibbling at her thighs, creamy soft on the surface, strong and well exercised thighs. Working his tongue amongst the folds of skin between her legs, he rapidly found the little boat her slit enfolded into. There at the apex, was the knob of flesh he was seeking. Bob added a little stimulus to the already twitching nerves, a surge of pleasant symbols tickling in amongst the others her body already was producing.

Holding her hips up, he worked around so his host's balls hung over her face, her knees resting on his shoulders. This exposed her ass to penetration by his fingers. Feeling the apprehension at her ass being invaded, he found the symbols in the nerve stream were countering the gentle brushes his fingertips were making. He eased the pain symbols out of the stream, and suddenly the arousal increased accordingly.

With the backdoor open to his gentle touch, he lubricated his fingers in her cunt to a growing stream of quiet suppressed moans. He continued to lick the lips of her cunt, but began sliding first one, then two, then three fingers in passed her sphincter.

To his delight she was trying to press the fingers in deeper. By now she had found his cock hanging before her face enticing. He was being sucked, nibbled and licked back to stiffness.

Finally, hard again, he stood on the bed. Continuing to hold her hips up off the bed, he entered the darkest cavern she held. He pressed his hosts cock into her anus until his balls rested, nestled between her ass cheeks. She, lost in her new sensations, went into overdrive.

She pummeled her ass against him, seething with desire to suck the rest of him into her rectum. He reached down and began to brutalize her nipples, now raging with a sensitivity to the surge of pain/pleasure that drove through her tits to her throat.

"Gaaaaaawwwddddaammmnnniitt!" she burst out from her throat with all the pent up lust contained in their actions. "FUGMEEEEE!" as she worked through the wild thrashing and to her climax.

He pulled out of her ass and entered her now steaming pussy. Wet and surging, her muscles squeezed the invading prick, causing another spreading ejaculation. He was able to unleash another flood, enough so that the new made bed would require changing again.

"unnnghh..." he muttered. Looking at the doll like woman before him, he saw she was wasted from her exertion.

"You never made love to my ass before, sweetheart." she whispered in oblivion.

"I told you it would be as though we'd never touched before..." He let the man, his host, collapse. He planted a memory of this pleasant experience behind and looked up at the shower curtain. Oddly, his own body felt alien to him on returning.

This time Bob hadn't messed himself. He was completely thrilled at the remote control sex he'd orchestrated. He felt refreshed from the experience, not burnt out. And Betty was still working away downstairs, none the wiser...


They'd ended up at an Italian restaurant. It was a well hidden place named Lorenzo's. The checkered tablecloths covered small tables crowded together in such a way as to prevent two people from sitting back to back.

He ordered the Fettucini, she ordered Linguini in Clam Sauce. While they waited for dinner, the waiter had left bread sticks for them.

He wasn't feeling very talkative, so Betty had let him be so far.

He watched with interest as she picked up her bread stick, slipped it into her mouth and pulled the little seeds off by pulling the stick out of her mouth. She had to repeat this several times to get all the seeds off. Then she'd turn it around and work on the other end.

When she found several seeds remained, he found, she began to use her little pink tongue to wet them down so they'd pop loose.

The images of bread sticks licked seductively, plunging them in and out of her sweet lips, left his manhood strained against the crotch of his pants. He determined it would be a bad time to stand up.

She was as deep in thought as he and was, as he watch, closing her eyes, and opening her mouth a fraction of an inch. He found he could spot her teeth closed lightly on the tip of her tongue when she did this. It infuriated him to know she insisted on waiting until they got married to share any real intimacy.

He wondered if she knew about the little turn on motions she made, or if it was all just a part of her mannerism.

And wondering was the same as acting, for in an instant he had a thread into her mind.

She was considering the wisdom of having expresso after the meal. She knew it would keep her up most of the night, but she liked the strong coffee flavor after pasta. She could tell Bob was tense, but why, she asked herself.

He had been fine around the house, she thought he was developing some real talents for property upkeep. In fact when she'd gotten to his house this morning, the kitchen was spotless. She could almost believe he'd spent much of the evening cleaning last night.

She enjoyed having him treat her well. This dinner was excellent, although she really should have insisted on the Thai cuisine she was more interested in tonight. He hadn't quite allowed her to manipulate the decision as smoothly as usual. Somehow she miscalculated his willingness to yield to her wants and was surprised when he hadn't given in when she agreed to Italian. The ploy had always worked before.

She would make him take her to a movie. This would help both of them, she decided. He'd lose the tension he was displaying with a nice dramatic romance movie, she was sure. The care and feeding of Bob, she thought, I'm becoming the expert.

Annoyed, Bob withdrew the thread. He should have realized there was no conscious effort to be sexy, seductive or mildly enticing on her part. She was above such things in her own mind. A touch manipulative, but she wasn't aware of those little sex cues she sent out in body language.

Maybe he should re-evaluate the relationship with her... no, he should just modify it a bit. He grinned.

Betty took this as a sign he was perking up. There was no way for her to know how this would change her life...


They were at the movie. It was some poor excuse for an artsy dramatic romance. He was bored.

If only the flick had a touch of humor, rather than drowsy monotone conversations, he might enjoy it. He liked romance, even tear jerkers, but not painfully dragging ones. The only thing worse would be watching nothing but TV commercials for two hours running.

So he began to scan the near vicinity for interesting minds to explore.

A narrow trail of thought wandering the neighborhood almost escaped his attention. Not really thought, but in the spectrum he saw the symbols in. It was narrow and straight, a bright beam of thought energy. But Bob couldn't sense any symbols within the path, rather maybe he could. It looked like a simple imperative demand for a subconscious response, a sort of feedback ping.

Watching it closely, Bob concluded it was traversing a circle, not unlike a radar. He traced back towards its source, but the closer his own probe reached for the source, the harder it was to dodge away so the beam missed him.

A quick jab at the heart of the beacon gave him a view of three men sitting with a stack of electronic gear. He pulled back just in time not to come in contact with the beacon... Could these be the 'hunters' from yesterday's encounter?

He jabbed out and back again, trying to pull an impression from one of the men. He no sooner established contact than it was over. There wasn't any way to learn from this without being trapped in the mysterious beacon. Where were these guys at least?

Then the beam stopped sweeping. He could sense they had locked onto something. He pushed in again to see what he'd found. Tapping into the senses of one of the men he found himself looking on as another pulled a wirelike helmet over his head.

"Probably another guy, figured out he was telepathic, screwing anything in skirts he can find." he heard a voice.

"That or some jerk, just taking things away from other people. They get that way when they figure out no one can stop them. Usually, the property branch can pick them up just by following the weird police reports. You know, 'I lost my car- I gave it away, but I don't know how or why', some Sparks got no imagination."

"Yeah, but it can go for months without one of the creeps popping up."

"The naturals are rare, ya know. You ain't gonna find large numbers of them."

Bob realized the man he had probed was a trainee and the explanations were for his benefit, so to speak. Two great coincidental events!, the telepath popping up just now, and a newly indoctrinated trainee to delve for info.

He dug in for information from this man. These were the 'hunters', he was sure. They were trying to find telepaths. No big surprise so far. They worked for some kind of super secret research project. It was vague, vaporous even, the mystery source of funds and the authority behind the project.

"My god!, its a woman!" One of the hunters exclaimed. "There aren't many of them at the institute. The White Coats always wants another to study, we may get a bonus!"

Suddenly interested, Bob determined this woman was one telepath that would slip free of their net. First, with speed he didn't know he could muster, he traced down their scanning beam, finding the woman.

{Flee, conceal your talent!} he sent.

{Who} she radiated {where are you?}

{hunters follow} he threw out cryptically {they'll catch you.} He pulled her home address from her mind before slipping back to the hunters.

He quickly realized he'd made some kind of error, there were all kinds of alarms going off. The trainee was fumbling with a small electronic device, trying to get it over his right ear.

"hurry, we can't let her know anymore than she already does!" The other man was helping the trainee. Suddenly, there was no one there for him to read. Three lumps of emptiness he could feel but couldn't penetrate had taken the place of the hunters he'd been watching.

Allowing himself to snap free, he found his constructed defense personality had escorted Betty back to the car. My, he thought, it's nice to be able to do two things at once.


Back at the house, he invited her in for a cup of Java. It was rare for him to do this, but not unusual. He knew she'd insist on tea though.

"Oh Bob, I'd love to come in, but how about tea rather than coffee. It is so much better for you at the end of the day."

She swept into the kitchen to start the water. Her hips moving with a grace he'd admired before, but now he knew for certain how unconscious it was on her part.

He only turned on the one lamp by the window. And he settled into his favorite chair to wait Betty's return. Tonight he was determined to have his coffee. He slipped a suggestion into Betty, the first he'd ever made to Betty, that it would be a nice treat to make coffee for him this time. That he'd be more malleable to her manipulation if she did something for him. He could see her mind fight against the idea, eventually yielding before it despite counter arguments from within her psyche. Egocentric little bitch, he reflected.

She came out of the kitchen with two mugs.

"Surprise, I made your coffee anyway, but don't start a habit of drinking this stuff at bed time, I won't stand for it!" She announced, presenting herself as the authoritative decision maker. It was time for this to change, he decided. He made a small adjustment, a little series of symbols to magnify the importance of his opinions in her mind. To back it up, he added a little program to make her question her own decisions whenever they affected other people.

"Actually, I believe a cup of coffee is superior to tea late in the evening. Helps keep you alert for those end of the day thoughts."

"Yes, yes. I suppose you're right." She confirmed smiling at him as though her agreement was natural. She curled up on the floor, about six or seven feet away from his chair. He watched her hover over her tea, sipping it reflectively. Her head was bent slightly, and with the angle exposed to him, he could make out the lines of her muscles and the supple skin from her hair line to her shoulders. Her hair, draped as it was across her shoulder, reached to her lap.

He realized his reluctance to adjust her was fading, knowing just how self centered she was. He was tempted to turn her into a little nymphomaniac and set her loose in a football team locker, but no...

Bob put aside the coffee mug, and sidled up against her on the floor. Startled, a bit, she looked up at him.

"Yes?" she spoke, as though the presidential debates was under discussion.

"Shhhh," he whispered. Bending his own head forward, he made a first, almost puritanical kiss on her lips. He followed with a second, less reserved entry in the same place. She allowed his tongue entry, but didn't make any motion towards improving the embrace.

Leaning his forehead against hers, "come on Betty, open up a little bit, enjoy some tenderness."

"Bob if this is leading to another discussion on sex, you can just forget it right now!" He teased the nerves of her pussy and clitoris a touch. }From below he could see her body was already pushing a strong desire up from the waist. He was stung by her venom, not the words, and another discovery, that she was suppressing the heat herself from some unconscious source.

"Relax a bit Betty." he commanded twice, with his voice and also with the now all too familiar symbols from the book. She eased back, emotionally.

He put her mug aside, still within reach. Then pulled her face gently to his own, giving the best kiss he could bring from within himself. She reluctantly cooperated, but didn't display the same passion.

He began to seek out the source of resistance from her mind.

Tracing back the streams of suppression into her unconscious, he found the image of a little girl and a towering woman. The woman was shouting about the evils men do, the horrors of submitting to sex, the terrors of marriage, men must be controlled! He recognized the little girl as Betty. Who was the woman though? she only bore a superficial resemblance to Betty.

He formed an image of himself next to the little girl, staunchly receiving a continuous lecture.

{who is that?} he whispered to her.

{That's mama, she knows everything.} replied the child worshipfully.

{Oh} He began to form another image of the woman, right next to the first one. She began to lecture on the evils of self righteous behavior, failure to live your own life, trying to run the lives of others. He grinned. It might not be consistent to apply this debate to him, but it might diffuse this fear Betty had of sex.

He hoped.

Slowly at first, but more quickly after a moment, the towering women began to shrink and the little girl image began to fade into a more mature image, more like the grown woman he knew.

He withdrew from her unconscious, and was pleased to see her body was beginning to respond to the lusty necking session.

It was time to take the next step.

He pushed her onto her back, and began to shower her face and neck with little kisses and love bites. Her lovely hair splayed out behind her head. He brought a hand along the expanse of her shoulders, and drew it down towards her breast.

"Please, Bob, don't" she whispered, following with a slight whimper as his palm drew over the nipple. "oh!"

He concentrated on caressing the underside of her chin and neck with his lips while he teased her breast with the most whispered touches.

"oh, Bob, I, I, I shouldn't. I can't, aaah, oh no."

"You are overdue, little child, and you will find no better man to yield to than me." He allowed himself a touch of ego for the moment.

Watching her face, he began to unbutton her blouse. She turned her head away, a tear, from confusion, drew a line across her nose.

He reached under the blouse to feel her tit. He was still massaging over the fabric of her bra, but the nipple had become erect. Taking the tip between his forefinger and thumb, Bob rolled the nipple tighter.

"Ooooh Bob." Her hips had begun to writhe against his legs. She let out another reluctant moan.

He stood up slowly, lifting her in his arms. She draped her arms over his shoulders, around his neck. She burrowed her face into his armpit.

"No, Bob, no, please let me go home. I can't do this."

He ignored her plea.

He carried her to the bed, placing her on her back. She looked away as he stripped off her blouse and bra, but moaned whenever he flicked his tongue around her nipples.

She was still putting up a week resistance as he undid her pants and drew them off of her glorious legs. He always did get a thrill from admiring her well turned ankles. So he spent a interval providing a teasing tongue lashing to those newly exposed appendages. She whimpered and sighed, apparently uncertain what to expect.

He stepped out of his clothes, and lay alongside the nearly naked woman. She didn't exactly refuse his embrace as he re-initiated the exploration of her lips an mouth, but she wasn't enthusiastically joining in either.

Bob slipped another little control into her, pushing the hesitancy aside, pulling her excitement forward. She started to make a few affirmative actions on her own. Her hands started to trace across his chest, exploring the handful of curly black hairs, discovering the shapes of his nipples.

He reached for her crotch, finding her panties were still in place. They were skimpy, and showing a little age, holes in places near the elastic. He hooked his fingers in them and ripped them away, eliciting a startled gasp from Betty. Smiling, he worked his hand down between her legs and cupped her womanhood.

"Bob, this is, Bob, we shouldn't, Bob" she was muttering, barely comprehensible.

She wasn't aware that she no longer had any choice. Even if she resisted further, he had determined what he'd adjust, and how, to enforce her cooperation. This didn't prove necessary, however, and she plastered her body against him, plunging her tongue into his mouth.

Disengaging his mouth, entering her cunt with a finger, gave her a wicked, possessive look.

"Want it, or not, Betty, I'm taking you tonight. You will be my property from now on." she pouted at his pronouncement, "You will remain my chattel, and you will agree before you leave."

"But," and she loosed a groan of unadulterated lust, thrusting against his fingers, "ooooh Bob!" He could feel the wave of lust washing her insides, and along with it a sense of shame over her lost control.

Bob reached inside the bedstand drawer near at hand, pulling out a condom. He'd gotten these yesterday just for Betty. He knew she wouldn't be on the pill, but he wasn't going to let her escape his penetration tonight.

"Watch now, you may be asked to do this for me later, and you wouldn't want to make any mistakes." She watched as he rolled the latex mitten over his erect penis, licking her lips anxiously as he did. He was uncertain if she was worried about his entry or getting it right later.

"Oh Bob, your thing is so big." Her eyes were open as wide as he'd ever seen them.

"Cock, Betty, say cock, or prick, or penis, or meat, or tool, or... Well, Don't call it a thing, not ever again."

"Oh!" her eyes were wide open at the tone of command in his voice.

"Spread your legs now, wide enough to let me get my body in between."

She pulled her knees up towards her shoulder, craning her neck to see what he planned to do. He moved his cock along the tender lips of her cunt, teasing her a little. She gasped out a sound of mixed surprise and pleasure, followed by little panting noises. Her hips seemed to try to reach for him. He started to push into her recessed opening.

"Aaaah, Bob, I forgot, aaaahh." He paused a moment, to let her speak.

"You see, Bob, I've never, I mean, you know."

He smiled, "I already know you're a virgin, Betty." Her eyes showed he'd understood, and she nodding affirmatively. Then he inched his way in, pressed against an obstruction he'd never encountered before in sex. She was his first virgin, although he was determined she would be only his first. She squealed in sharp pain as the hymen snapped. After a few more strokes though, she was in ecstasy again.

"ooooh, Bob!" was followed by incoherent moaning and an occasional whimper. He took his own time, because he liked watching the series of pleasure/pain faces she was making. {gggnnnnh!} she was heaving herself against his penis, attempting to drive him deeper. She suddenly went wild, lunging her hips, thrashing her head from side to side until the long dark hair he admired covered her face.

His come started to flow internally. His eyes clenched he pulsed as the tide of orgasm leapt within and erupted from his cock. She screamed with delight from a wrenching orgasm of her own.

Probably, he reflected, her first and only so far. She came down from it quickly enough, still panting from the physical release.

He rolled off and out of her. He patted her thighs before he got up to dispose of the cum filled condom.

"On Monday, you go to your OBY/GYN and get a prescription for the pill so we can do this any time." he announced. She simply nodded, and curled up in pleasant repose.


He had gone to the bathroom. She was grinning at him when he returned.

"I made that pretty difficult to get to, didn't I." she was trying to re- establish some kind of control. He could tell, and wasn't having any.

"As I said earlier, you are now my chattel. My personal property. Do you know what I meant?"

"Not entirely, but I'll be your property if you'll be mine," she offered, trying to entice him to relinquish some of his control. If she'd made an offer like this two weeks earlier, he might be making wedding plans with her right now. She was still egocentric, and he had already laid the program in place for her change in attitude.

"No, I think you will become my pet. A sex slave and lover. My property to use or dispose of as I will. You behaved very badly making me listen to you whimper that we shouldn't screw. Now I think you need to be punished."

"But," and he could clearly see in her hesitation the internal questioning of her own views and justification of his. Her shame at the behavior she still thought of as slutty also rose. Who better to punish her for enjoying sex than Bob. "ohhh!"

"Why don't you take the cover to the laundry, right now, and get the blood you dripped off?"

"But Bob, it's midnight!, I've got to get home or I won't get any sleep!"

"You're staying the night. In the morning, I want bacon and eggs, say an omelet, ready by the time I get out of the shower."

His change in demeanor had her stumped. But she apparently felt his assertions were appropriate. She folded the cover into a mass she could carry and took it, stark naked, to the laundry downstairs.

He turned down the sheets and allowed himself a short nap while she worked.


Bob felt Betty watching him with tenderness.

She had the cover folded on her naked lap as she sat on the edge of the bed. He could sense within her a thought he hadn't planted intentionally. She had developed an obsession for him. Seeking inside her the source of this obsession led him back to the source of resistance he'd dissolve earlier.

Instead of the towering mother image before the little girl, there was now a towering image of himself speaking to the grown Betty who was virtually worshipping at his feet. The image was telling her she was his property, she had to do as he said.

He withdrew the probe and opened his eyes. Well, he thought, interesting that she needs an internal governor to keep her content. Now that she's rid of mommy as a moral monitor, she'd selected him instead. Good enough for now.

"Put it over the bed and get in. I want to sleep now." She nodded and slipped between the covers. He felt her nestle her bare little tush against his flaccid organ. He reached around her to cuddle her, cupping one of her tits in his hand.

Shortly, he slept again.


He awoke, finding Betty with her eyes open. She didn't seem to want to move, since he still had her wrapped in his arms. She smiled as his eyes connected with hers.

"Good morning." she whispered, as though the neighbors might hear. Little did she know, the neighbors were likely to be too busy with each other to care if she stayed overnight.

"Mmmm, yeah." He untangled himself from her and looked at the clock. "Well, I gotta get up. You can make breakfast, just the way you are."

Her face fell the tiniest bit, but perked right up again.

"Right away!" she zipped out of the room.

Bob took another slow, sensuous shower, enjoying the water's warmth. He got himself thoroughly cleaned up, shaved, and dressed. When he got downstairs, Betty had managed, even naked, to get the table set, make the omelet and bacon he'd ordered last night, and clean some of the associated mess in the kitchen. Good girl, he thought.

"May I get dressed now, Bob?" she inquired. Her dark hair was tickling the top of her ass, and where strands of it dropped down the front, it almost slipped into her delectable little pussy.

"Ah, no, I'm enjoying the view." he muttered, wondering if he could hold his urges back until after he ate. She shrugged and sat at the other plate she'd put out.

He added some salt and pepper to the omelet, and began to eat. She waited with her hands in her lap.

"You may eat too, I wouldn't want you to go hungry." She gave a wanton look at him and began to dig in.

"Now, this week I expect you to start the process of moving in here. And I don't want any little nonsensical garbage taking up too much space, so check with me if you've any doubt what can stay."

"Oh, really!, I can probably move everything in by Wednesday!" She was now rather gleeful as she attacked the bacon. He hung on every glimpse of her pink tongue darting for the corners of her mouth.

"And you'll help Randi move in too." he added. The seemed to shake her like a thunderbolt!

"Who?"

"Randi, another sex toy I own, a lot like you, only I think she likes girls a bit."

Apprehension overtook the naked girl, she was suddenly trying to cope with the concept of sharing him, and possibly fending off the advances of a predatory lesbian!

"She's very nice, I assure you. The two of you will get along famously." He added, watching her struggle with his evidently superior opinion against her childhood trained fears. He threw in something else to get her mind on something else, "I'd like you to try harder to wear sexier outfits around the house too."

"Okay Bob, if you'd like that, I'll see what I can do."

Soon he'd finished eating. He pushed his chair out and watched her clean the plate before her.

"Since you are being so helpful this morning, you'd better take care of another little detail right now."

"Oh, what... ?" she looked puzzled. He beckoned her to him.

She had the same sexy walk without the encumbering clothing although, he felt, some concealment added a touch to the effect. She stepped to him and brushed her hair back over her shoulders.

"Kneel down." still puzzled she did, "now you are going to blow me."

Shocked, she shook her head with terror, as though he was about to throw her to wild tigers. He grinned.

"You will do this for me, but since you are frightened, why don't you tell me what scares you about going down on me."

"I, I just couldn't take your th... , cock in my mouth! Its dirty! and, er, disgusting..." He eased each of her fears aside within her, as she mentioned them. Taking control of her volitional muscles he began bringing her lips to his prick. He pushed the control to the point her lips opened and that favorite little pink tongue he liked to watch snaked out and slid across the head of his organ. Gawd, that felt good.

"I, {gulp}, can't do this. It, {slurp} its vulgar!" She said between licks. He firmly took a handful of the long dark hair in his fist, holding it so she couldn't move away. Not that this was necessary, but it felt so good to hold while he fucked her tender face.

"You'll do it, and probably find you like it." a fact he was sure of, although he didn't enforce this enjoyment on her part yet. "Open up a bit."

Taking the head into her mouth she rolled his cock between both sets of teeth. She was still somewhat repulsed at this demanding method of entry to her body, but she was showing determination to please Bob.

"Eventually, I will take your ass too. You should get used to the idea that I will take you whenever and where-ever I want. Agreed?" He pulled out to let her speak.

"Oh, uh, yes Bob, any time, any place." She dove into her new task with energy, if not experience. He relented a little, opening the paths of symbols that would allow her enjoyment while blowing him. She became more enthusiastic, almost immediately. She found any loose edge or surface on his prick to reach her tongue around. He started pulling her head towards him, starting her retching from the autonomic response of gagging. He allowed her to pull back to recover. While she did he moved her hands for her to wrap around his cock, she got the idea quickly and massaged it until she could get her lips back in place around her new project. He thrust towards the back of her throat and allowed his orgasm to build.

"I'mmm commming," he admitted as he pushed towards the back of her mouth. She looked concerned, but as his semen lurched from his penis to her mouth she closed her eyes and swallowed. Pulling back, while he was still coming, some of his come splattered over her face.

He settled back, enjoying the post orgasm buzz.

She reached for a napkin. He stopped her hand with his. She looked quizzically at him.

"You will clean up after breakfast without removing the semen from your face. This will serve to remind you who you belong to. Then you may take a shower and dress. Get to work."

"Yes Bob." she responded.

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

"When we are alone or with my other sex toys, you will address me as 'master'." She looked down, as though this was another slap in the face. But he could feel the humiliation bringing heat to her loins. It would wait, just as he'd waited months before taking her.

"Yes master." was the simple reply.

He zipped up his pants.


"Hello?" came the woman's voice on the phone.

"Randi, this is Bob."

"Yes, Bo... , er master?"

"I want you to start the process to move in here, you will find Betty here this afternoon. She will give you a copy of the house key." "Oh yes!, I mean, yes master!" She'd certainly turned, he thought. "One other thing. You don't touch her. Do you hear me?"

"Yes master."

"She will have as much right to tell you what to do as I do, at least for now, do you understand?"

"Um, yes master."

"Bye." Click.


About noon, the doorbell rang. Pretty quick for Randi to get here, thought Bob. Since Betty was in the shower, he knew she hadn't stepped out to get anything.

At the door was a tall woman, about 5'11" wearing a dress suit in gray. She had very short brownish hair, almost as if it had been shaved off and had just grown back in enough to look presentable. She was slender, very busty, and had attractive ankles showing above the flats she was wearing.

"Hello." she said in a deep throaty voice. A whiskey tenor perhaps.

"How may I help you?" he asked. The temptation to reach out and probe this stranger was strong, but he resisted.

"May I come in? The institute knows me by face and may have searchers anywhere."

"The what?" He replied, stunned by the implication that she had found him, rather than the other way around.

"At the mall Friday, you diverted them away from me. Please?" She waved her hand inwards.

Bob stood aside, letting the other telepath into his home, wondering what her story was.