Monday, August 02, 2004

 

Interracial Porn Mpeg Sex story

Chapter 2: ResearchChapter 16
Research

For the next few weeks, Ron devoted his time to teaching Michelle,
and to a lesser extent, Karen, the "tricks of the trade" of psionics. Michelle
progressed rapidly, finishing up most of her work in five weeks. Karen took
longer, but did eventually catch on. Michelle achieved the level of psion11.
Karen's present level was only psion8, but that would improve as she matured.
Finally, it was time to get down to some real work.

"So, am I going to get to help you with your project, or are you
through with me?" Michelle asked, after Ron had presented her with her
"graduation" certificate.
"Mickey, you can stick around as long as you like. And I would
appreciate some help with this project. I have no idea where to begin."
"Well, what do we have to do?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just be able to control the minds of everyone in
the United States." Sarcasm was dripping from Ron's voice.
"How?" Michelle inquired.
"If I knew that, I'd already be working on it. We have two basic
options: audio and video. Audio is easier to work with, so we'll start there."
"Whatever you say, Boss." She replied with a smirk. Ron was caught
short, then saw the look on her face.
"Not now, Mickey, we've got work to do." Her face fell until he
added, "Maybe later, after we get some stuff done here." And, with that, they
set about doing some research into audio technology and the effects of sound on
the brain.

Three weeks later, and their first experiment was ready to run. Of
course, it was hard to get work finished, what with all the interruptions for...
extracurricular events, but somehow they managed.
"Okay, Mickey, it's ready. Or, at least, I think it's ready. Who
do we test it on?"
"Why not try it on me? I trust you." That was reassuring to know,
Ron thought.
"It won't work. I already tried it on myself. Whatever it is in
our heads, they block out this kind of subconscious signaling. I'm hoping that
doesn't mean it won't work on regular people."
"What about the family members?"
"Well, what if it screws up their heads? I don't want to lose any
more family." Ron was still upset at Dawn's leaving. His last report from
Peter said that Dawn was doing well at FSU, and that she had some very strange
notions about their relationship. Ron didn't know what that meant, but he
couldn't worry too much about it. He pulled himself back to their conversation,
as he realized that Michelle had said something that he missed.
"I'm sorry. My mind wandered for a second. What did you ask?"
"Ron, you need to stop worrying about Dawn. You think no one else
here cares? Hey, it was her decision. You've done all you can." Michelle
reached over and embraced him, but then pulled back. "What I asked was why we
didn't just use a highschool student?"
It was almost like smacking him in the face. "Damn! Why didn't I
think of that? Mickey, that's a perfect idea. What would I do without you?"
"Flounder like a fish out of water, but that's okay. I'll collect
payment later." The smile on her face said she would enjoy collecting, very
much.
"Let's go, I think I.... oh, shit. It's not time for school yet.
Wait! What about college kids? They're still in summer session over at the
Community College."
"C'mon! How are we gonna get college kids to work with us?"
"Money. Something we have, and they want. It'll work, for sure.
Let's go."

There were many to choose from on campus. They discussed alternate
ways of approaching them, and deciding which ones to use.
"Hello again." Said a familiar voice, from behind them. They both
turned, and Ron recognized the young man. A quick scan showed that this guy was
ready for contact. Unfortunately, Ron really didn't have the time for this. On
the other hand....
"Hi there, Jeff! Michelle, this is Jeff Durant. He's a student
here. What is it, third semester?"
Jeff was taken a little by surprise. He didn't remember giving this
kid his name. "Starting my third shortly. Excuse me, but I don't seem to..."
Ron interrupted. "Not here, Jeff. Is there someplace private we
can talk?" Michelle looked quizzically at Ron, so he leaned over to whisper in
her ear. "He's another psionic, and he's ready for contact. I think we can use
his help to pick our subjects." Michelle smiled and nodded.
"Well, I suppose the cafe is pretty empty about now." Jeff
responded.
"That'll do, if we can speak quietly for a moment, I think some
things will become clear to you." Jeff led them over to the Student Union
building, and they took up a seat in an empty snack bar.
"The lunch crowd won't be in for another half hour. I hope you
don't need more time than that?"
"I shouldn't, though you and I are going to need to talk a lot from
now on. My name is Ron Chaffey. This is my associate, Michelle. You are Jeff
Durant, and you have an unusual talent that we need to talk about." Ron saw his
face go white, and was afraid the guy was going to bolt on him. "Relax. I'm
not here to judge your activities. Whatever you've done couldn't have possibly
been any more perverted than the shit I started with." And am still doing, Ron
added to himself with a smile.
"Who ARE you? What do you want with me?"
"Chill out, Jeff. Look, I represent an agency that deals with
people like us. People with The Ability. Lately, you've come to understand
that you can... do things, that you couldn't do before."
"Yeah...." Jeff responded hesitantly.
"You're just now hitting the tip of a very large iceberg. What
you've discovered is just the bacon bits on the salad." Even Ron thought that
was corny, but it got his point across. "The agency I represent was formed to
help you learn to control The Ability, and to live with its consequences."
"What is this agency called? Are they feds?"
"Everyone worries about that. No, the federal government doesn't
even know of CAMP's existence, beyond its tax forms. For rather obvious
reasons, CAMP has never been audited." Ron smiled, and Jeff returned it.
"CAMP, which stands for the Corporation for the Advancement of Mental
Proficiency, is a community of people with The Ability, people we call psionics.
We are hoping you will be interested in becoming a member of this community."
For the next twentyfive minutes, Ron and Jeff talked and discussed.
As they were finishing up talking about CAMP, the lunch crowd started to
arrive.
"Do you have some time now, Jeff?" Michelle asked, finally
speaking. Jeff seemed startled at her question.
"She doesn't say much, but listen when she does," said Ron.
"Well, I don't have any more classes today. What did you have in
mind?"
"Not what you're thinking!" She added a smile to ease the wound.
"We need a little help with an experiment, and we were hoping you'd be willing
to help out."
"Hey, I ain't nobody's guinea pig."
"You misunderstand," replied Ron. "All we want from you is
information. Our experiment wouldn't work on you, anyway. We need a... oh, for
lack of a better term, a 'normal'."
"Oh. Well, in that case, sure, no problem. What do ya need?"
"We need two subjects, male and female. They should either not be
acquainted, or they should dislike each other." Michelle laid out the
guidelines. <Let me do this part, please? I've got an idea.>
Ron didn't know what she had in mind, but it sounded good. <Okay,
babe. Go for it.> Ron wasn't sure if she'd be offended at that particular term
of endearment, but it didn't seem to phase her any.
They sat there through lunch, and Jeff pointed out two subjects.
One was a nerdy type, clumsy, and obviously unpopular. The other was one of the
cheerleaders for the college.
"Cheerleaders? At a community college?" Ron asked.
"Well, we do have a rugby team, and a ladies basketball team.
They're real small leagues, but we are active."
Having decided on their targets, Ron and Michelle went to work. Ron
let Michelle handle the cheerleader, so as not to seem threatening, or, worse
yet, like he was trying to hit on someone three years his senior. He headed for
the nerd.
"Excuse me, sir? May I speak to you for a moment?"
The young man looked up, surprised to see such a young person in
front of him. Rather than the annoyed response Ron was expecting, the guy was
rather pleasant.
"Sure. What can I do for you? Have a seat."
"Well, my name is Ron. As I'm sure you can tell, I'm not quite old
enough to be going here yet."
"Yeah, that was pretty obvious. So why are you here?"
"I'm doing a science project for a national competition. I need a
subject who is willing to help me out. I can't use any of my clates,
because I don't want anyone to find out what I'm working on. I expect to win
first place."
"What's the project about?"
"Oh, it has to do with human response to aural stimulus." Ron had
learned lots of big words relating to auditory science in the last few weeks.
"Did I forget to mention that the volunteers would be paid?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, you did." His eyes really lit up at that
thought. "How much?"
"Well, I'll need help for about four hours or so, and I figured to
pay each person $100. How does that sound?"
"That's quite a lot of money. How do you have that much?" The guy
was a little suspicious, but $100 was enough to feed him for the month, so he
was definitely interested.
"Oh, my family is quite wealthy. Besides, if I win the contest, I
get like $50,000, so it's no big deal, I'm borrowing the money from my old man.
He says if I don't win, he's gonna cut my allowance in half until I pay it back,
but I'm sure I can win."
"Okay, just one more question. Why'd you pick me?"
"An honest question. You looked like the smartest guy in the room,
and one who would understand scientific discovery." Play on the man's vanity,
and you'll get what you want. This, Ron had learned from his mother, who had
done it to him often enough.
"That's cool. When do you want to do it?"
Ron motioned him to wait a second. <Mickey? How's it going?>
<No problem here, Ron. She's good to go. She does want to know how
much she gets paid, though.>
<$100. When can she do it?>
<Whenever. She skips class half the time, anyway. Or so she says.>
They were avoiding the use of their power, to make sure the experiment worked,
and not them.
<Alright. Hang tight, I'll see when this guy can do it.>
"Okay... hey, what's your name, anyhow?"
"I was wondering when you'd roll around to that. It's Kyle."
"Okay, Kyle. What time is good for you?"
"Anytime after 2:00. My last class ends then."
"Okay, I want you to go to this address at 3:00, today. We should
finish by 7:00 at the latest. Please, do not be late."
"I won't." Ron got up, and they shook hands. He headed over to
where Michelle was sitting with the cheerleader. He avoided looking at her in
anything more than a cursory way, to prevent her thinking he was sizing her up,
and then turned to Michelle.
"Everything okay here?"
"Yeah, no sweat. When do you want to run the experiment?"
Ron turned to look at the girl. "Is 3:00 okay for you?"
"Yeah, fine. Look, how long is this gonna take? I got a date at
9:00."
"You'll be through by then. We shouldn't go any later than 7:00."
Ron handed her a slip of paper. "Please do not be late. There are instructions
on the paper how to get to the address." The girl got up and left.
"She doesn't seem very pleasant, Mickey."
"She isn't. That's exactly what I wanted."
"Just what do you have in mind?"
"You'll see."

Both participants showed up promptly at 3:00. Michelle led them
into the room they were using as a lab. It had been converted, with a two way
mirror, and audiovisual equipment all over the place.
"Okay, if you will both sit down, I'll need to ask some questions of
you. Some of these questions are kind of personal, but let me assure you that
none of the results will be released using names of any kind. You will each be
identified as a number. Turning to Kyle, she said, "Your number is 412." To
the girl, "And yours is 413. You will each get a copy of the final report,
before actual publication. That ensures that no one is displeased with the way
their data was handled. Do you both understand?" After getting nods from both,
she proceeded with the questioning. After the obvious of height, weight, age,
etc., Michelle moved on to the more interesting questions.
"Now, these next questions are critical to the experiment. I need
an honest answer from both of you on all counts. I understand these things may
be embarrassing, but remember we are doing science here. Now then, 412, have
you ever previously had sexual intercourse?"
Michelle could see the guy was not comfortable answering the
question. He looked furtively over at the girl, and blushed.
"I need an answer, 412," Michelle prodded.
"No." He responded quietly.
"Very well. 413?"
"Of course I have. I'm no damned virgin." Her look of contempt
showed what she thought of 412.
"I see. Okay, 413, at what stage are you in your monthly cycle?"
"What the fuck has that got to do with anything?"
"Just answer the question please."
"Presently, four days past the end of my period."
"Thank you. Okay, one final question to both of you: do you find
anyone else in this room sexually stimulating? 412?"
"Yes," he replied quietly.
"Who?" Michelle was relentless.
"Both of you," was the response. Michelle found this surprising
only slightly. She admitted she had a good body, but was surprised to get a
reaction out of a college student.
"Thank you very much, 412. 413?"
"Not in the least." She gave 412 a look of revulsion. Michelle was
having to restrain herself from hauling off and whacking 413. She had never
understood the attitude of superiority of some women. Michelle was a genuinely
helpful person, and liked to make everyone around her cooperate, and generally
treat each other with respect. She found 413's attitude to be in noncompliance
with her outlook on life, and that was why she had chosen her for the
experiment.
"Please wait here. Ron will be in shortly to explain the experiment
to you." Michelle left the two of them alone. No conversation was exchanged
whatsoever.

"What was all that about, Mickey?"
"I just wanted to see what they were like, that's all. They fit my
plan perfectly."
"Okay, fine. You want to enter your commands to them now?"
"Yeah, let me do that while you go explain the experiment to them.
I need to only say things once, right?"
"That's right. The computers will take care of the rest of it."
"Okay, thanks." She gave him a quick kiss, and then ducked into the
sound room.

The atmosphere back in the lab was chilly at best when Ron walked
in. "Well, folks, we're almost ready to start the test. What's about to happen
is pretty straightforward. We want you both to sit comfortably, and stare at
this wall in front of you. I suppose stare is the wrong word. You can close
your eyes if you choose, we'd just like to cut down on as much visual input as
possible, so don't look around. Then, we'll play some sounds. It'll take about
fifteen minutes for this first one, and then I'll come in and ask for your
reactions to it. I realize this may seem strange to you now. My questions
later will make things clearer. Please, just sit back and relax, and enjoy the
session." Ron made sure they were both comfortable, and headed out of the room
to the sound booth.
"Everything ready in here, babe?"
"Sure is. Come on in, we can watch from here."
"Wait a second. You mind telling me what you've got programmed in
there?"
"Well, the guy is just going to become a little less shy, and much
less inhibited. The girl is about to find this guy completely irresistible.
Kind of like I find you...." There was a familiar twinkle in her eye.
"Not now, damn it! We've got to see if this works." Meanwhile, Ron
mentally prodded the pleasure center in her brain. She shuddered from the
endorphin rush.
"I love it when you do that," she cooed. More seriously, she
continued, "Okay, we're ready to give it a shot, if you approve."
"Hey, why not? Let's run with it." Into the PA system, he said,
"All right, guys, here goes. Like I said, just relax." He nodded to Michelle,
who started the computer program.

Inside the room, all that was heard was a low grade buzzing.
What a fucking annoying noise. Thought 413, whose real name was
Anna. Anna was 5'8" tall, with wavy black hair that fell down to the middle of
her back. She had aristocratic features, and the body to go with them. Her
breasts were ample, and they were nicely outlined by her sweater. Her legs were
supple and tanned. Her whole body gave the impression of a cat, ready to
pounce. She was fit and agile. She was also of the belief that she was the
most important person in the world, better than everyone around her. If I
wasn't getting paid for this, there is no damned way I would sit here and listen
to this crap next to this geek.
Kyle, on the other hand, was intrigued. Well, the noise is
certainly not intended to be pleasing to the ear, although I suppose I could get
used to it. Kyle was a skinny guy, underweight because he kept forgetting, in
his studies, to eat. He had moppy blonde hair, green eyes, and pale skin that
freckled in the sun. He was 5'4" tall, and gangly. He was not by any standards
handsome, though he wasn't truly ugly, just sort of plain. The kind of person
you sort of glossed over and didn't really see. Damn, I get paid money, just to
sit and listen to this?

The first series was just the precursor set. It was, assuming it
worked, supposed to prepare the mind for any future messages. It opened up
certain pathways in the mind to allow the real commands easier access to the
subconscious pathways in the brain. After fifteen minutes, the noise stopped,
and Ron went back into the lab.
"Okay, guys. I know, that noise is pretty annoying. The next one
will be more pleasant. But, what I need to know now is, relative to how you
felt when you came in, are you more tense, or more relaxed?"
Both parties responded that they were more relaxed. "Very good.
Now, beyond that, did either of you have any... oh,... 'visualizations' while
you were listening? In other words, did your mind conjure up any specific
imagery?" Neither of them could point to anything specific.
"One last question: Do either of you, at this point in time, feel
significantly different, besides the things you have mentioned, than when you
walked in here?" Neither of them did. "Okay. During the second sound, feel
free to let your eyes wander wherever. Visual input will not greatly affect
response on the next sound, we've already proven that. So, sit back and let
your mind roam. Have fun."
Ron went back to the sound booth, and Michelle began the second
program. The second program focused much more on the personality programming
Michelle had decided upon. Though the full treatment would require two doses of
fifteen minutes each.

In the lab, Kyle was staring blatantly at Anna. Anna was studiously
ignoring him, and focused on her fingernails. At least, at first. As the time
wore on, she began to briefly glance at him. You know, he's not that bad after
all.... What am I saying?! Well, he is sort of cute... Shit! What the hell is
happening to me? Anna was starting to wonder about her sanity. Maybe being
cooped up in this little room is starting to get to me. She wasn't bright
enough to know about brainwashing, or even subliminal science. Kyle, on the
other hand, had noticed her glances. Hmmm. I wonder what this experiment is
really all about. She wouldn't even deign to look at my shoes before. Now
she's looking at me every ten seconds.
The sound, which was reminiscent of falling water, but more musical,
continued, and Anna continued to doubt her sanity. The more she looked at Kyle,
however, the more she felt he was really cute. Beyond cute, he was starting to
make her hot. She felt glad when the sound kicked off. Kyle was just starting
to hope for some headway, and was disappointed at the abrupt cessation of the
noise. However, he did notice that she still kept looking at him. Just then,
Ron reentered the room.
"So, did everyone enjoy that noise more?" Kyle answered in the
affirmative, but Anna just sort of nodded. She was having trouble taking her
eyes off Kyle.
"Good. Now, I'm going to ask you pretty much the same questions,
with just some minor alterations. Do both of you feel more relaxed now than
after the last sound, or not?" Both responded that they felt about the same.
"That's to be expected, given the program of sounds we're using.
Alright, did either of you have any visualizations this time?" Receiving a
negative reply, he continued. "Do either of you feel significantly different
now than after the last sound?" Kyle said no, but Anna was unclear.
"It's a fairly straightforward question, 413. Do you now feel
different from what you felt fifteen minutes ago?"
"Yes, I do. But I really can't explain it."
"Explanations aren't necessary at this time. The fact that you feel
different is answer enough. One final question, and then we'll move on to the
next sound. 412, who do you feel is the most important person in the free
world?"
"Well, I suppose I would have to say, the President of the United
States, whoever that happens to be at any point in time."
Standard answer, very good. Just about what I'd have expected.
Now, a test.
"413? Who is the most important person in the free world?"
"412." What? What did I just say! He's not.... well, yeah, I
guess... What's happening to me?
"Interesting response. Very well. The next sound should be fairly
invigorating, so feel free to move around and do whatever comes to mind." Ron
chanced a look at Kyle, who was now eyeing up Anna quite liberally. Anna, no
longer her bitchy superior self, now stared back.

The third and final program was the key sequence. It allowed for
specific command entry, and emotional imprinting. This process actually took
twenty minutes, but neither Michelle nor Ron figured the participants would mind
very much.
"How long you figure it'll take, Mickey?"
"Oh, maybe ten minutes, given her present state of mind."
"Something like that. You are a devious one. Remind me not to get
on your bad side." He gave her a squeeze, and then entered the command for the
final sequence into the computer. "It should be an interesting show."

In the lab, both participants were heating up. Kyle had gotten up
and started pacing around the room, his energy level peaking. This was part of
the programming, it allowed him to fully participate in what was coming. Anna
was now becoming extremely aroused by seeing her man strutting before her. My
man?!? He's just a... a... a... Master, to be served! A controller! A hunk!
I must have him! As the last of her barriers was torn down, she stood up from
her chair and went to him.
"What�s your name?" She asked.
"Kyle. And yours?"
"I�m Anna. Do you find me attractive?"
"Yes. Very much so." An hour ago, Kyle would not have been able to
speak with her this close. The programming had allowed him the freedom to voice
his feelings.
"Would you like to see more of me?"
"Absolutely."
Anna proceeded to remove her sweater. Underneath, she was wearing
only a bra. Kyle reached out tentatively to cup one of her tits. Anna pressed
into his hand when he made contact, and moaned huskily. Kyle reached around,
and unfastened her bra. He pulled it off her arms, exposing her breasts to his
view. They were magnificent and firm, sagging not at all. The nipples each
were like pencil erasers, standing proudly from small, tight areolas. Kyle
cupped her breasts again, kneading them, pinching the nipples. With each touch,
Anna became more aroused. She pushed her skirt down off her legs, leaving her
clad only in panties and her shoes and socks.
Kyle's hands were now roaming all over her body. When they finally
ventured between her thighs, Anna orgasmed on the spot. Kyle was dumbstruck,
never having seen a woman naked, let alone one who was orgasming, he was unsure
of what to do. Luckily for him, Anna knew what she was doing.
Anna pushed her shoes off her feet, and then pushed her panties down
off her hips. Kyle got the idea, and finished removing them. She moved over to
the table and lay down on it, holding her legs spread, so that her pussy was
wide open to see. "Take me, Master. I am yours!"
Kyle was completely turned on by this. He fairly tore his clothes
off. When he finally stood before her naked, his rod was already fully rigid.
And the surprise for everyone was, it was the only thing on him that wasn't
skinny! His cock was slightly longer than average, and quite thick. Anna
nearly swooned when she saw it.
"Put it in me, Master! Please!"
Kyle was only too happy to comply. He placed his cockhead at the
obscenely spread opening to her pussy, and pushed forward. He slid into her
easily, enjoying the utter ecstasy of her warmth. Kyle let out a fervent grunt
upon reaching his full depth, his balls resting against her ass cheeks. He
didn't rest for long, though. He started a pounding rhythm into her that would
have moved the table across the room, had it not been bolted in place. (The
room had been designed with this sort of activity in mind.) With each thrust,
Anna was grunting and moaning and uttering encouragement to her lover.
"Yes! Oh yes, fuck me, Master! Oh that is so wonderful!" And
other affirmations were filling the room. Kyle was silent, his head locked
back, staring at the ceiling. His furious pace continued, until he shot his
load deep into her womb. Feeling his cum inside her, Anna immediately had the
most intense orgasm of her life. Surprisingly, to Kyle, he was not going limp,
but had only lost a bit of his rigidity. He began stroking again, and found
himself coming back to full hardness. Looks like I can keep going...

In the sound booth, very little of this was noticed. Ron and
Michelle had watched until they were certain of the outcome, but then their own
lusts took over.
Ron moved over to Michelle, and took her face in his hands. He
kissed her deeply, warmly, sensuously. Her tongue darted into his mouth, and a
brief battle was fought, resulting in a draw.
Ron moved his hands down her back until he reached her ass. He
picked her up off her stool, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He
carried her over against the wall, still kissing her. He proceeded, with
difficulty, to remove her blouse and bra. He massaged her breasts, focusing on
her nipples.
Ron sent continuous waves of pleasure through Michelle's enraptured
mind, heightening her experience and driving her toward climax. He stepped
back, and she remained, floating in air for him, so that he could remove her
jeans. He unfastened them and pulled them off her legs, revealing her sinuous,
welldefined lower limbs, and driving him crazy with desire for her.
Quickly, he removed her panties, leaving her completely nude. She
floated over to him, and they embraced. Michelle, lacking Ron's finesse, but
making up for it with enthusiasm, sent a flood of positive feelings into his
mind. They were both very quickly enveloped in their emotions, lurching ever
onward toward an exquisite peak of pleasure.
Slowly, Ron entered her. Letting out a soft hiss of pleasure, she
sank, inch by inch, down onto his engorged member. Her pussy undulated on his
cock, giving him intensely pleasant feelings. As soon as she reached bottom,
she lifted herself slowly back up, not increasing the pace at all. She
continued, down and back up, over and over, at the same torturously slow pace.
She was driving him wild, and she knew it.
As a regular consequence of their lovemaking, they were floating
several feet off the floor by now. They rolled to the horizontal, and Ron moved
himself so that Michelle was on top. Assuming a traditional position, She
started to ride his cock faster, her tits bouncing freely, until he embraced
them with his hands, massaging them and tweaking her nipples. He knew this
would drive her crazy with desire.
Soon, their action became more frenetic. They bounced off the
ceiling and two walls, and were rapidly heading toward a third. At this point,
Ron had moved to her side, raising her leg to allow him access. She enjoyed
this position immensely, and he knew he could get her off this way.
As they reached the wall with the window in it, Michelle took them
both closer to the floor. <Ron, honey? Take me in my ass, please?>
<Whatever you want, babe.> They both came to their feet on the
floor, and Michelle placed her hands on the two way mirror. In the lab, Anna
and Kyle were still going at it, but neither Ron nor Michelle gave a damn at
this point.
Ron pressed his organ against her asshole, and slowly pushed it into
her bowels. Gently, he eased his way into her until his dick was fully inside
her. He pulled out, and eased back in, repeating the process until Michelle
loosened up.
Then Ron picked the pace back up. The respite allowed them both to
ease down from their earlier level, and prolong the enjoyment. As Ron increased
speed, he grabbed her hips for leverage. Michelle reached down to tease her
clit with one hand, while keeping the other on the window for support.
Soon they were approaching their peak again. Ron was pumping in and
out of her ass furiously, and she was writhing on his dick in ecstasy. Finally,
she straightened up, and leaned back into Ron. He reached around her and
fondled her tits, still pumping into her. Just as they were both about to come,
they each sent another wave of pleasure through the other's mind. As they came
together, Michelle turned her head towards Ron, and they locked their lips into
a feverish kiss. They stayed like that for some minutes, unaware and uncaring
of their surroundings.

Some time later, when Anna and Kyle had finished their gyrations and
cleaned themselves up, Ron met them back in the lab. Anna was very subdued and
quiet. She deferred to Kyle whenever a question was asked.
"So, 412, do you feel more relaxed or more tense than after the
second sound?" Both Ron and Kyle had trouble keeping a straight face. Kyle
decided to play along.
"Oh, I feel much more relaxed now." Ron made a great show of
writing this down.
"413?"
"I feel.... just fine," she responded.
"Uhhuh, I'll bet." Ron smirked. "Okay, no visualizations? Good.
Do you feel different now from after the second sound?" Both heads nodded in
the affirmative. "Perfect. Well, that concludes our test. Are there any
questions?" Kyle obviously had questions, but was hesitant to ask in front of
Anna. "Anna, would you please go outside and wait with my associate, Michelle?
Thank you." They waited until she closed the door behind her.
"What in the hell was this really all about?" Kyle wanted to know.
"I can't really say. Do you object to the results?"
"Hell, no! But, you're not just some high school kid, are you?"
"Not hardly. I've validated part of my research. That's all I
needed to do."
"What do I do with her now? I mean, what's with this 'Master' bit?"
"That is her sexual persona. If you don't like it, you can order
her to change it. When not sexually aroused, she will act, well, normal for a
submissive girl. She will defer to you all important decisions."
"What about her boyfriend, and her other friends? How do I explain
this to anybody?"
"You'll think of something, or let her do it. She's probably not as
stupid as she acts. As for the boyfriend though, I'd have her meet him tonight
and break up with him. It'll still be rough on you, especially since he's
probably a jock, but he'll get over it. Anyway, for now she's yours. This
treatment doesn't wear off, but if you want to get rid of her, just command her
to no longer be interested in you, and to find another target for her
affection."
"That'll work?"
"It's part of the.... effect." Ron had almost said 'programming',
but that would have revealed too much.
"Well, thanks."
"No problem. I got almost as much out of it as you did." They
shook hands, and walked out to where the ladies were waiting.

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Saturday, July 31, 2004

 

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Friday, July 30, 2004

 

Interracial Porn Mpeg Sex story

The following is intended for adult readers who want to
read fiction about men and women in adult situations.
Anybody who is not legally permitted to view such material
should read no further. All rights to this story are
reserved by the author. Permission is given to archive
this story in places where no fees are charged for legal
adults to view it and if no words are changed, including
this disclaimer. Hope you enjoy.


It Started As A Trivial Pursuit...
by Hector's Pup
hectorspup


With your indulgence I'll relate the circumstances around
the day that changed my life forever. In the early
eighties, there were the two of us and three other couples
on our block that had a lot in common. We were upwardly
mobile, without children yet, and into fitness and activity.
At first the couples consisted of my wife Carol and I, our
neighbors to the right, Jeff and Marcy, and the couple
across the street from them, Wade and Susan. Every weekend,
and some week nights, we would get together with one or
more couples for fun on the town, back yard barbecues, or
just hanging out.

Then a new couple moved in across the street from our
neighbor to our left, whom we were all intrigued with.
Bill was an accountant and Sandra was a fox. We didn't see
much of Bill because he was always working inside or
something. Sandra, however, was the one who washed the
cars, mowed the lawn, and actually used saw, hammer and
nails. When she was outside, she attracted one or more of
us to figure out a way to make conversation with her. It
was clear that we were going to get Bill and Sandra in our
group somehow.

Ours was the more central house location so we invited
everyone over for a potluck barbecue. It was a warm summer
night, so the beer was flowing and we were having a good
time. Bill and Sandra were kind of quiet but sociable. We
had to draw information out of them as nothing was freely
volunteered.

After dinner, with the beers still flowing, we decided on
the group activity of the then popular game, "Trivial
Pursuit". We first started out as couple teams. Then
Sandra said in a kittenish way, "Why don't we play girls
against guys?"

This unexpected spontaneity on Sandra's part sparked a new
energy in the room. We quickly agreed and the
conversation steered around the respective bravado of the
teams regarding the game. At a perfectly timed moment,
Sandra said, "Why don't we all put our money where our
mouths are?"

The posturing built up in a crescendo until out of my wife
Carol's mouth came, "Why don't we play 'strip Pursuit'?"
Everyone became instantly silent, and Carol turned beet red,
just as surprised at what she had said as everyone else was
by it.

We guys started a huddle as did the gals. The debate went
on for a few minutes. The opportunity to see each other's
wives naked was clouding our thinking. Heads would
independently pop out of each huddle looking across to the
spouses presumably imagining the future possibilities.
When agreement was reached, the rules were debated and
hashed out to the point that a "pie piece" would mean shoes,
socks, shirt, pants, bra or teeshirt, and finally, panties
or underwear with a dance, respectively. It could have
ended right there, because for me just the thought of the
possibilities was enough fantasy food for the rest of the
summer.

Our living room was laid out perfectly for this challenge,
with two loveseats facing each other and a coffee table in
between. We actually moved the loveseats back so some of
us could sit on the floor by the table. With the energy of
a close "Super Bowl", we began to play the game. The women
won our shoes, socks and shirts before we won their shoes.
Then they won our pants before we won their socks, for those
that wore them. All we could think about was seeing Sandra
and the others sans clothing. Now that we had them barefoot,
we began to get aroused, and stiffening was apparent in the
briefs and boxers.

It was not our destiny this night, though, as the homemaker,
Marcy, easily got the entertainment pie piece to seal our
fate. All of sudden, it was difficult for each of us men to
swallow. We collectively went from pale to flushed, as we
realized our task at hand. We all wanted out of the deal.
We all knew we wouldn't have let the women out, so we took
solace in the fact that it was happening to all of us rather
than just one. We tried to talk our way out of it, since
they should have had their fun just getting us to this point,
and we didn't voluntarily get up and do what was required of
us until we were directed to do so.

When directed, we stood in a line in front of the fireplace.
We waited for Carol to put on some old disco music and
started to dance. When we all started to put our thumbs in
the waistband of our underwear, Sandra said, "No boys. One
at a time. You first Bill. Step out in front." Bill did
so without hesitation and clumsily danced and slid down his
boxers to his ankles and stepped out of them, tossed them to
Sandra and stepped back in line.

The women were beside themselves with glee. This victory was
sweeter for them than they had imagined. Marcy then said,
"Come on Jeffyboy. Your turn honey." Jeff got up and tried
to dance as sexy as he could, undulating his stomach, and
pulled down his briefs and handed them out for Marcy to pick
up from him. Marcy got up and took the briefs from him and
patted his butt as he turned and walked back in line, making
the comment, "Always did like this butt."

Then there was me, and I was so much in shock, I can barely
remember what I did. And finally, Wade came forward, still
in a competitive mood, and tried to out class us in his
performance. The women went wild as he prolonged the
inevitable teasing as best he could.

Well, we were completely nude in front of our wives and
neighbors. The embarrent and humiliation was intense.
But, the women hadn't completely won yet. In fact we hadn't
thought that far. We had just thought about getting the
other side naked. We wanted to play on and get as much
clothing off the women as possible. Of course it was a
long shot, but we wanted some measure of payback. So we
decided on the stakes of a night of sexual slavery to the
winners. We figured that we were acquiescing to the makings
of an orgy and had no particular reservations about it.

Of course the women won. Alas we did not score anymore
clothing. It was Friday and relatively late in the evening
so our wives didn't want to waste our servitude on a short
evening. So preparations were hashed out for tomorrow
evening starting at 6:00 at Bill and Sandra's. We were to
be prompt, we were to address each of the wives as
"Mistress" plus their first name, speak only when prompted
to speak, and to do exactly as we were told for the evening.

Part 2

It was 5:50 and Jeff and Wade met me at my house so we
could go over together. We downed a couple of stiff drinks
and meandered over, not realizing we were ten minutes late.
Bill opened the door for us wearing an apron and nothing
else. That dry mouth sensation overtook us again as
realities were coming into focus.

We were led to the living room, where we saw our wives for
the first time since 10:00 that morning. They had obviously
been shopping. Carol was in a black bodystocking with a
sequin bra and panties over it. Marcy was in kneehigh
boots, dark ultra miniskirt, horizontally striped,
bodyhugging longsleeved, low cut shirt and scarf around
her neck. Susan was wearing fishnet stockings, a short
leather skirt with a slit up to her hip and halter top
which let the hint of the sides of her breasts exposed. And
Sandra wore tight beige riding pants, riding boots and a
leather bra that encased her magnificent breasts
beautifully with a small hole at the front of each large
enough for just her nipples to poke through. Our wives
were all heavily made up, and were obviously fulfilling
some fantasies that they had not let us in on.

Bill's eye's were looking down, but we couldn't stop
staring at our wives in disbelief and excitement. As we
each discovered Sandra's leather bra, we got hard at the
distraction of seeing only the nipple of her ample breasts.
Sandra welcomed us to an evening we would never forget.
She scolded us for being late and said she would take care
of that later, but that now we were to undress and put on
our costumes for the evening. From now on, she instructed,
we would have to keep our eyes down or suffer penalties,
which we would not like.

Our costumes consisted of leather collars, leather
wristcuffs, leather anklecuffs and a leather belt, all with
rings at various places around them, which we later learned
were for attaching things. As we undressed in the hall
leading to the living room, we got reminders from a riding
crop yielded by Sandra not to look at our mistresses. This
was difficult indeed, because they were so intriguing in
their sexy outfits. When we were out of our clothes we were
walked into the living room and we were each attended to by
someone other than our own wives in adorning the leather
gear. Sandra attached my anklecuffs and the sight of her
full bosom tipped off by the exposed wrinklely skinned erect
nipples, gave me a hardon. When she looked up and saw it,
she said, "Ummm, nifty, but not now slave. Not until I tell
you to." And, gave my balls a tap with the riding crop which
sent a surprising jolt of pain up into my stomach. It also
did the trick of bringing the erection back down.

We were then placed around an ottoman facing out. Our
ankles were attached to the ankle next to us and our wrists
were attached to a loop on the back of our belts. With our
legs spread as they were, and our hands immobilized, I was
feeling mighty vulnerable. "Now," Sandra said, "how about
we size up the evening?"

Out came a clipboard, a cloth tape measure, and money for
bets. First my calves were measured around and recorded on
the clipboard then my thigh at the widest part around. Next
my biceps, neck, and chest were measured and recorded. As
our wives took turns coming forward and measuring parts of
me and coming into my view, I eventually had to close my
eyes to avoid another erection before instructed to do so.
The touching, the closeness of our friends and neighbors on
my body was just too much, however, and I raged a hardon
despite my efforts to avoid it. "I'll give you five seconds
to get that down, or I'll get it down for you." Said Sandra,
"One.., two.., three.., four.., That's better."

Wade wasn't so lucky. He got several whacks with the crop
to get his back down. Bill was surprisingly obedient, or
not so surprisingly in retrospect. And, Jeff was so nervous,
he couldn't get it up, even if he tried at that point.

Then Sandra led the way and placed the tape on the middle
of the back of my right testicle and ran the tape along the
bottom up to the middle of the front. Then she ran the tape
around my scrotum to get the circumference of the two balls
together. I guess they could do the math to figure out the
size of our nuts. This manipulation of my balls got my
penis stirring again and she grabbed and yanked my balls
saying, "Down boy! Not yet." She then measured the
relaxed length of my cock and the circumference of the head.
"Now boy! Now!" she said as she slinked up next to me
putting one hand on my shoulder and dragging the other up my
tensed stomach, glancing an exposed tit along my arm, and
exhaling warm air against my face.

The ladies watched in fascination as my cock twitched up to
attention in less than a minute. Then she measured the
length from underneath and the circumference again, passed
the tape to Susan, and took over the recording duties as
Susan did Jeff, and so on. The humiliation of this was
beyond belief. Not only were we being displayed naked in
front of the ladies on the block, but we were being
compared to the other men in things that we bundle up pride
and insecurities all in one. The most embarrassing aspect
was having our sexual natures controlled by them as they
wished.

It seems Wade was the hunkiest on their scale with Jeff and
I somewhere second and third and Bill, who didn't seem to
mind, taking up the rear. The ladies went off for a bit to
get some refreshment leaving us standing attached to each
other around the ottoman. We started comparing notes,
complimenting each other on the foxiness of their wives and
trying to figure a way out of this, then in walked the
ladies giggling. When they entered to find us talking to
each other, they stopped giggling, smiling, and talking.
Sandra said, "You boys were late, you boys can't keep your
eyes to yourself, and you boys can't seem to follow the
simplest of rules, can you. Well it is time to teach you
slaves to follow our simple rules so we can proceed with an
orderly evening. Comprende'?"

We were led down stairs to a recreation room. Instead of
typical furniture, there was a wall made up of two pieces
of plywood eight feet wide by the height of the ceiling.
Along the wall were four holes about 32 inches from the
floor evenly spaced. As we got closer, we could see two
drilled holes a couple of inches above each hole. When we
were around back, our hands were undone to give us the
opportunity to push our cock and balls through the hole, or
we would have assistance from one of the ladies. When we
just barely and painfully managed to squeeze everything
through, our hands were reattached to the belt behind and
our ankles again to each other. Shoelaces were threaded
through the drilled holes and were used to tie our cocks
straight up against the wall, leaving our balls vulnerably
on display, us helpless to do anything about it, and blind
to what ever was happening on the other side.

We heard Sandra ask the ladies, "What should we do about
them being late?" All we could hear then was whispering
and shuffling. Then someone pulled a hair out of my
scrotum. When I flinched my fellow slaves looked at me with
apprehension in their eyes. Then Wade got a pull and then
Jeff, and so on it went until I'm sure we were each pretty
much hairless on our balls. Then we were given an alcohol
rub which had us wanting to dance in place till the wave of
intense pain started to subside.

Then I felt a fairly pleasurable massage of my balls which
ended in having a rubberband or hair scrunchy or something
placed around my balls extending them down to the bottom of
my scrotal sack and out. The others got the same treatment.
"Now this is for not following the rules in general boys."
Came Marcy's voice from the other side, as we felt slaps
from paint stirrers or rulers or something. My colleagues
were in as much excruciating pain as I was. We must have
taken a dozen each, and the women couldn't have known how
much pain they were inflicting because they couldn't see
our tears.

The rubberbands were removed and the shoelaces untied, but
the women left for a while and went back upstairs. We
didn't dare talk or move from our posts for fear of further
retribution. Besides, my balls were swollen and I don't
think I could have backed them back through the hole at
that point.

What seemed like half an hour later, we heard their voices
and footsteps. Moments later, a hand grasp my cock like a
handshake. "Now boys, don't cum, no matter what we do to
you, if you know what's good for you." Sandra's voice came
from the other side. Music started playing and the hand did
a grasp pull motion getting me hard. Another hand started
lifting and jiggling my balls. This was all very arousing
when the music stopped and the hands went away. The music
started and a new pair of hands started to work away in a
different way bringing to a new level of excitement. The
music stopped, the hands stopped. The music started again,
this time a hand grabbed my balls and a mouth started
sucking on my dick. When the music stopped, my dick was
bobbing and reaching for someone, anyone to touch it. The
music started again and each of us were moaning and lunging
forward to increase the sensations without regard for the
warning at the onset of the game. Wade stammered, "Oh god.
No. Oh god, oh god, Ayeeeeya!."

We could hear Marcy jumping and yelling, "I win! I win!"

All ministrations stopped. Bill, Jeff and I opened our eyes,
breathing deep in disbelief, poking our cocks humorously out
as far as they would go several times trying to get friction
from anything that might be close, to no avail. Wade looked
sheepish and worried. The gals were giggling and talking too
low for us to make anything out for a while. Then we were
told to back ourselves out of the holes yeah right! We
tried, but without our hands, we were essentially stuck. As
we pulled, the women pushed with their fingers like they were
stuffing a sleeping bag into a stuff sack. The pain was
indescribable. When they came around back, we were in an
awkward pile bound by our ankles trying to get into fetal
positions. "Oh! Was that that uncomfortable getting out?"
Susan said innocently.

We were released at the ankles, helped up, and led around
to the front. We briefly looked at our sexy wives, but put
our eyes down quickly to avoid any further punishment. I
wondered what was in store for Wade. "So do you boys
understand the rules for the rest of the evening? And, do
you agree to abide by them?" Sandra asked. And we all
nodded our heads without looking up. "Now ladies, the
blindfolds please."

We were blindfolded by cotton being taped over our eyes,
then a sleeping mask pulled over, so no light was able to
get in at all. Our hands were clipped to the sides of our
collars and I was led to a low sturdy coffee table. After
I was placed on my back, legs pulled apart and groin
exposed, I felt one of the lady's bare legs and bottom
sitting back on my face. She had her hands on my upper
thighs for support and someone said "Do it!". My mind was
a cloud. Here I was face to cunt with one of the sexy
ladies of my block, I was going to give her a licking, and
I had no idea who it was. When I hesitated, I received a
brief pat on the balls like spurs in a horse's side to get
me going. I started licking with enthusiasm. Soon the
anonymous rider grabbed my cock in one hand and my balls in
the other. I soon figured out that she was communicating
to me how she liked it. My cock became a joystick that led
my tongue to the right spots and my balls became the
throttle to ease up, hurry up, or harder. Although
sometimes painful, I really enjoyed the connection with
this woman through this process. After she came, she
leaned forward onto my belly so I discovered she had been
completely naked. She huddled my balls up in her hands
and gave the tip of my cock a gentle kiss before
dismounting.

We finally had the women naked but were unable to see them.
Another mystery woman mounted me in a similar fashion. She
communicated what she wanted by moving her hips in an
uninhibited way with her hands on my legs where they join
my upper body, the pressure of her palms told me where to
go and so forth. As she neared her climax, she huddled her
arms to her side leaning down onto my stomach, crushing her
breasts to my body and pulling my balls and cock back toward
her face. When she was done, she gave my balls a not so
gentle, but nevertheless, friendly squeeze, and got off.

That was all for me for a while apparently, as Bill, then
Jeff seemed to get turns. I remained still and quiet trying
my best to figure out who was doing what to whom. When it
was Wade's turn, it appears they had other ideas for him.
Instead of lying on his back on the table, they had him on
his hands and knees. When he felt someone's greased up
fingers at his virgin ass hole, he blurted out, "Oh no!
Not that!"

"What was that? Did I hear you say something slave?" was
Sandra's reply, and someone slapped him in the balls.
There was rustling and conversation about how to attach what
turned out to be strapon dildoes. One by one, and in
successively increasing size, I later learned, Wade took
rubber shafts up his rectum until he was actually made to
come again from the experience. The rest of us were not
that lucky that evening until we got home and screwed our
wives silly. Carol said, "If that is what a little
mistress/slave action can do for you, were going to have to
do it more often." And so it goes.

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Wednesday, July 28, 2004

 

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Sunday, July 25, 2004

 

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HELOISE Chapter 1



She woke up naked, gagged, blind, duct-taped into a hard wooden chair.
She couldn't move at all -- even her fingers were taped down to the arm of
the chair. It was hot and sweat was pouring down her. She moaned and kept
trying to tug against her bonds but they were too tight. Suddenly she
heard a door open.

The tape was ripped off her mouth and someone held a bottle of water to
her mouth. She drank gratefully, she was being rescued! Then she heard a
female voice, familiar but she couldn't place it.

"What's your name?"

"Heloise," she answered.

SLAP! hard across her face.

"You are nobody! You don't have a name," the voice said.

"Are you a man or a woman?" the voice came again.

"A woman, of course," she said, confused.

SLAP!

"You are a CUNT! A filthy, dirty, little cunt! What are you? Where
are you from?

She hesitated before replying, any answer she gave was probably going to
get her smacked again.

"I am ... from Haiti, uh, black," then she guessed what her captor
wanted to hear, " . . . I mean I'm a nigger. I'm a nigger!"

No slap.

"Very good, that's exactly right, you're nothing but a lowdown nigger.
Now, what do you do for a living?"

She hesitated. There was only one thing she could say and it would get
her hit again.

"I am housekeeper for Mrs. Forrest in," she said with a certain pride.
She had been with the old lady for almost three years, companion and nurse
as well as maid. Then she recognized the voice, it was Mrs. Forrest's
daughter in-law.

WHACK!WHACK!WHACK! a wooden board clobbered her shoulders and the back
of her head, stunning her.

"You are a slave! For the rest of your lousy, stinking life you are our
slave. I am your Mistress and my husband is your Master and you will
always address us that way,

"You will cook and clean and do whatever else we order you to do. You
will perform your work perfectly or you will be punished. And believe me,
I can make you hurt until you wish you were dead without breaking a bone or
even leaving a mark."

The woman moved around behind her reached down and gently caressed her
breasts, purring, "And we are going to USE you, me and him, any way we
want, anytime. Oh, we're going to have fun!"

More than anything else the rapture in her mistress' voice as she
delivered the last sentence terrified her down to her bones. Mistress
continued kneading her tits and gently rubbed her palms over the slave's
nipples and they hardened involuntarily.

"Oooh, my little nigger likes that," Mistress observed, "good, we're off
to a fine start. Now what are you?"

NO! she wanted to scream, don't touch me, get your hands off me! The
very idea of being touched by another female repulsed her but she knew
better than to protest



She paused, looking for the right thing to say. "I am . . . I am," she
stuttered.

The gentle hands suddenly pinched, pulled, twisted her nipples, making
her cry out in pain. "Come on, I told you," Mistress insisted, "what are
you?"

"I am . . . I have no name . . . I am a dirty, filthy, lousy nigger
cunt slave," it took a supreme effort to force the words out, to describe
herself in such degrading terms, ". . . your slave, Mistress, for life."

"Very good," Mistress said, "right on the first try. And don't you ever
forget it. You know, I think we'll let you have a name . . . all right,
from now on your name is `Fuckhole', no, just plain `Hole.' Now who are
you?"

"My name is Hole," she came back quickly, "and my Master and Mistress'
dirty, filthy, lousy nigger cunt slave."

She was disgusted with herself that the slave mentality had already
taken her over, trying to please Mistress, trying to anticipate what she
wanted and make her happy.

"That's right, for life," Mistress agreed, "and don't you forget that we
decide how long that is."

Mistress' hands kept roaming over her breasts and arms and shoulders.
She was grateful that her thighs were taped together or Mistress would
surely invade her private parts. "Do you like that? Are you getting
turned on?" Mistress whispered in her ear.

Tell the truth or lie? Truth.

"No, Mistress," Hole said timidly, "I do not enjoy it at all . . . it,
it does not arouse me."

"Good cuntslave, never lie," Mistress told her, kissing her on the
mouth, "and don't worry, you'll learn to love it."

"Now just in case you have any hopes of being rescued, forget it. Do
you know where you are?"

"At your -- Master and Mistress' home?" she guessed.

"Uh-huh. In the nicest, whitest town in the state. If you get out of
the house no one will believe a word you say. If you scream no one will
hear you, the nearest house is a quarter mile down the road. Even if you
got away no one will believe a word you say.

"And even if you escape, even if you got back home to California you are
wanted for murder. My mother in-law is dead, poor thing. She was murdered
by a burglar. Your boyfriend, in fact. Did you know he has a long
criminal record?"

"No, no, Mistress," she answered, shocked.

"Yes indeedy, a very nasty thug," Mistress went on, "After some discreet
investigation I discovered he's a burglar, a mugger, a dope dealer, assault
and battery, yes, a very long record.

"Someone who looks just like him bribed the super for a copy of the key
to the old bitch's place. This person borrowed his gun and killed her and
threw it away in a dumpster near your lover's building."

Hole wanted to protest that she and Rashim weren't lovers, that she had
resisted all his advances like a decent woman.

"The police will be thrilled to have such an easy case!" Mistress
gloated, "the Haitian maid, the gangsta boyfriend, the place ransacked,
jewelry and valuables missing, the old lady shot, it's a cinch. Oh, and
let's not forget half your clothes and things are gone like you suddenly
decided to head out of town."

Hole sighed and shrunk inside, all hope fleeing her. The case against
her was even stronger thatn Mistress knew. Rashim had shown her his gun
and offered to get her one for protection. He showed her how to load and
unload it, how to handle it, so her fingerprints were all over it -- and
the bullets besides. The cops might actually think she had committed the
crime alone.



"Your boy is missing by the way and he's never coming back -- he is
dead," Mistress told her with vicious delight.

Hole heard a match being struck and then felt hot wax dripping on her.
Mistress needed to pee and the urge suddenly became unbearable. She
started to head upstairs but stopped herself and decided to have some fun
instead. She kicked Hole on the chest, sending her toppling over
backwards, chair and all. Hole nearly passed out from her head hitting the
concrete floor. Mistress squatted over her and cut loose a stream of urine
all over Hole's belly and breasts and right into her face. She laughed as
Hole tried to spit it out and choked on the piss that had flowed down her
nostrils as Mistress kept peeing for almost a whole minute. Mistress stood
up and almost came gazing at the young girl, bound and helpless, the
candlelight flickering off the wet sheen coating her rich brown skin. She
wanted to do more to her but promised herself to wait until she and her
husband could break Hole in together.

"Your Master knows nothing of this," she informed Hole, going back to
dripping wax on her. She held the flame closer and closer to Hole's
nipples. She giggled as the wax that had already landed there melted and
coated them with fresh hot drippings. Even through all the pain, Hole was
glad though, that Mr. Forrest wasn't involved, he had always seemed like a
good son when he visited.

"He's paralyzed with grief. He's flown up out there to arrange things,"
she explained, "I'm sure it will be months before he even thinks of filing
for the insurance or probating the will. So even if some detective gets a
glimmer that maybe it wasn't you no suspicion will ever fall on us."

Hole marvelled at how thoroughly evil her Mistress was -- the devil
himself couldn't be any worse!

"I'm going to give you to him for our anniversary," the demon-woman
announced, "until then I'll just have to keep you down here in the coal
bin.

"And after he collects the insurance, after the old biddy's condo is
sold we'll all move across the country to sunny California and live happily
ever after."

Mistress held the water bottle to Hole's lips, telling her, "Drink up,
we don't want you to get dehydrated."

"Now tell me what you are again," she demanded when the bottle was
emptied.

"My name is Hole," she recited, "and I am my Master and Mistress' dirty,
filthy, lousy nigger cunt slave for life."

"Once more, with feeling," Mistress ordered her.

"My name is Hole, and I am my Master and Mistress' dirty, filthy, lousy
nigger cunt slave for life," she repeated, trying to sound sincere.



Mistress's hands were prying her thighs apart and she was trying to
force something hard in between them. A dildo? Some kind of vibrator?
Hole couldn't tell, she'd never had to do with such nasty things. Oh, no,
it's a candle she realized. Once it was in Mistress lit it and taped he
mouth again and abandoned her.

Alone again, her only distraction from thinking about what was happening
to her was the candle flame. It flicked back and forth, almost singing the
hair on her belly. Before it would burn down, to her bush, her clitoris,
her lips. Her vagina would be ruined before she had ever even made love to
a man -- surely Mistress wouldn't let that happen! She and Master would
want to use it without burns and blisters. Maybe not -- her pain wouldn't
interfere with their pleasure. She could imagine Mistress laughing at her
torment while Master raped her burn-blistered vagina. The flame got lower
and lower, singed her pubic hair, the wax dripped onto her lips. In
another minute the first drops of wax ran down onto her clit and she tried
to scream behind her gag. Lower, lower, burning the tops of her thighs.

She didn't hear her Mistress approach but suddenly felt her presence in
the room. So her tormentor had come back to watch her agony, she thought,
wishing she were dead. Then Mistress took mercy on her poor slave, put out
the candle and left as silently as she had come. Just when she thought
things couldn't get worse, she couldn't hold her bladder and bowels any
longer. The humiliation of having to sit in her own waste was more than
she could bear. She cried and cried, her tears having no place to go
behind the duct tape until she passed out.

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