The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Thank you Regent McKensie. I really owe you one.”

“Don’t thank me yet Gregg. I’m only buying you a little time. What you’re proposing is either madness or genius, but you’ll hail or hang on your own merits.”

Gregg gulped. The enormity of the task at hand was sinking in now that the ESU regent who co-sponsored the archeological dig in Tunisia had given him the green light. The deadline was fast approaching for him to find a way to save the dig before it got bulldozed to become a resort hotel. Archeology rarely stood much of a chance when up against the almighty dollar, but the little analysis Gregg had managed to do going over photos and notes from the dig made him that much more desperate to save the site.

“Yes sir. Thank you sir. I’ll try not to let you down.”

“HA! Son, if you pull this off, you’ll practically be signing your own tenure contract…and you haven’t even taught a class yet!”

The university regent hung up the phone and Gregg’s gut tightened into a knot. The deal he just struck seemed almost Faustian: His plan to save the site depended on the site’s ability to be “profitable.” It was like selling his academic soul: research dependent on profit. It was not only the dig that hung in the balance – he was betting his career on this deal: succeed and be granted the academic trophy or fail and probably get fired for wasting the time, money, and resources of the university and its wealthiest benefactor. Gregg had never gambled before in his life…and these were some long odds for his first roll of the dice.

‘It’s in motion now…no choice left but to play the game…’ he though grimly as he pulled opened the .gif file of the pictorial mosaic that Heather had taken at the dig mere hours before he was struck by lightning. He had been staring at that particular set of photos for almost two days now. Chad jokingly referred to the mosaic as an ancient comic book, and in a way he was right. The tiles were sequential, telling a story about the rise and fall of a break-away Carthaginian sect. Based on all his research, everything seemed in order, at least on the surface. But his gut was telling him something was wrong.

Every time he stared at those pictures, he remembered that vision that crept into his consciousness during the party with E’dan and Rivkah. There was some connection between the military quashing of this depicted rebellion and the vision of himself (or rather himself seeing through the eyes of the high priest) building a harem of sex slaves. His memory of the vision was unbelievably clear, unlike his memory of the dreams he used to have with alarming frequency. Those often faded from memory soon after waking – which was why he kept a journal on his bedside table.

But it had been weeks since his last dream…something about Heather and a man dressed in black. Heather often appeared in his dreams. They were like variations on a theme: He, or whoever he dreamed he was, was granted powers and Heather was his wife/girlfriend/lover. The only thing he remembered with clarity was that each of those dreams ended with his own untimely and often violent death. Similar stories, each just set in a different place and time.

The vision that currently haunted him, however, was as clear as a bell…

FLASH Gregg and small band of soldiers clad in the armor of the Carthaginian court marching their caravan east, toward Cairo. They see a small village ahead, women tending goats drawing water from one of the nearby wells.

FLASH Gregg sitting naked on a make-shift throne in his large tent. Half a dozen women clad in nearly transparent white robes lie at his feet, all recovering from intense orgasms.

FLASH The initiate kneeling before him, also in diaphanous white robes, pulls her mouth off his gigantic cock. Gregg is about to bless her with an orgasm as he did the others when she pulls back the robe’s cowl. Her deep green eyes lock on his. One of his newest slaves screams from the floor. It was not a scream of pleasure…

Gregg shook his head. He’d lost count of the number of times these visions had flashed through is mind…almost always when pouring over the artifacts and pictures from the dig. That was what spurred him to concoct his seemingly crazy plan to save the site, possibly risking his career in the process. He was glad Regent McKensie agreed over the phone. Gregg had sent him a very urgent email, hoping the man checked his school account even while on vacation. Luckily he did. Gregg was ready to drive out to Yellowstone and track him down and use his powers to convince him. Actually, that was his second plan. His first was to fly back out to Tunisia and “convince” everyone associated with the land deal to see his way, but Gregg had no idea who to contact. As he thought of all the potential players he’d have to bend to his will, that familiar headache started throbbing behind his eyes. ‘No, better to convince one influential person and let him do what he does best,’ Gregg thought at the time. In the end, it wasn’t special powers that convinced Regent McKensie…it was his own passion.

Gregg was glad that, at least for the moment, this problem was off his chest. If anyone could buy him time, it was Regent McKensie. The man had made his fortune in international business, and Gregg’s plan, simplistic as it was in its current form, had potential in his experienced eye. Now, he only had to pull a business proposal out of his ass.

The three piles of papers on his desk beckoned for his attention: One for course syllabi he had yet to complete; one for research/publication/presentation work yet to be done on findings from the dig (a pile that was always growing thanks to Chad’s efforts); and the three volumes of his dissertation. That last pile scared him most of all. It was his dissertation research that led him to the dig site in Tunisia. He had been studying that very break away sect. It was artifacts found within his research that led to the eventual uncovering of the palace grounds he was working so hard to save. The core of his research involved the strange pseudo-sexual rituals the sect performed. The Carthaginians, before they were destroyed, were considered perverse for these rituals, but Gregg had shown that they never really happened. Now his dreams seemed to be painting a different picture.

Now Gregg had to face the possibility that if his dreams and visions were correct, then his research may have been totally flawed. But how does one publish results claiming that the leader of the sect was actually the Carthaginian high priest who was granted strange mind control powers and opted to build his own sexual empire? And more importantly, why did he leave? As evidence: a gut feeling and a dream? He’d be the laughing stock of his field.

But those concerns would have to wait. Since this morning, Gregg had been fighting down a growing sense of anxiety. It wasn’t nervousness, and it wasn’t fear…the boner tenting his jeans was a more than clear indicator of what was on his mind. It took most of his concentration just to make it through his conversation with Regent McKensie. He had been planning his conversation for days, but it was hard to make cogent points when your dick was straining to burst from your slacks! The clock on his wall read 1pm, and for a moment he considered calling Heather at the admissions office to see if she wanted a “late lunch,” but he remembered that on Fridays she had to give tours all day to visiting pre-froshes. There was no chance of getting her alone.

It started around 10am – as if a dial on his libido had been steadily cranking up, each passing minute Gregg could feel his sexual energy increasing. If he didn’t find some relief soon he would burst. An idea sparked and as fast as he could type, he searched the campus online directory, his fingers dialing as soon as the number appeared.

“Omega Xi. How may I direct your call?”

“Laura…please,” Gregg said somewhat breathlessly.

“Which Laura, sir? We have two living in the house.”

Gregg slammed the desk in frustration. He’d never gotten her last name. Then he remembered: “She’s an officer there. Secretary I think.”

Gregg could almost see the woman on the other end smiling. “Oh yes. I’ll put you through.” Gregg thought maybe he was being paranoid, but he imagined that the girl answering the phone was experienced with directing calls from desperate-sounding men.

“Hello, this is Laura.”

“Laura, this is Dr. Walters.”

Laura gasped, her hand trembling, the phone’s earpiece rattling against her earring. She bolted out of her bed and quickly shut and locked the door to her room. She took a calming breath and finally answered in a nervous whisper. “D..D..Dr. Walters. I…I didn’t expect to hear from you. I hoped but I – ”

“Have you been following my instructions?” Gregg interrupted. He was feeling positively evil. Just invoking the memory of her earlier humiliation was enough to have her in the palm of his hand.

The girl’s gulp was audible. “Y…Yes sir. Natalie’s probationary period will be up this winter. I continue treating her like shit – harsher treatment than any other pledge. She takes it all, but stares at me with such contempt. Normally that’d be enough to kick her out, but you said not to. When she’s not around I’m championing her, like you said. She’ll go active, there’s no doubt about it…if she doesn’t break first and tell everyone about that day in your office.” There was a long pause. “Dr. Walters? How can you be sure she won’t tell anyone? I intended to run for President this winter and by then she’ll be a voting member. I’ll be ruined if word got out about what we did…There’s a strict hierarchy – ”

“Don’t worry about that. Natalie wants to be an Omega Xi more than anything in the world. Nothing you do will break her.” Gregg shook his head ruefully, not really understanding why anyone would put up with the hazing to join such a pretentious group of spoiled twits. “What happened that day will remain our secret as long as you continue to do as I say.”

“Uh, continue to do?” she asked hopefully.

“Yes, Laura. Continue. You didn’t think I was done with you, did you?”

Gregg could hear Laura start breathing heavier on the other end of the line. Despite her humiliation by him, she masturbated nearly every day to her memories of his treatment. “I…I…h…hoped not…” she whispered.

“Good. Come to my office. Now.”

Gregg was about to tell her to hurry but the line when dead.

Gregg shut down his computer and was putting away pictures from the dig when a knock at his office door caused him to look up. Standing in the doorway was Charli. She was wearing her signature black baggy jeans, black death metal t-shirt, black boots, and her straight black hair covering one side of her face.

“Hi Dr. Wal – er, Gregg.”

Charli was actually surprised to see Gregg blush, not knowing that he didn’t dare stand and reveal his massive hard on.

“Uh, Charli, hi…What’s up?”

“Oh nothing. I got out of class early and just wanted to see if you wanted to grab a bite before I meet with my study group. I know a place near campus that makes incredible gyros.”

Under any other circumstances, Gregg would have said yes. He enjoyed spending time with Charli. She was like a kindred spirit – a loner, like he used to be. When he first met her, she could barely complete a sentence to his face, and now she not only had long conversations with him, it appeared that…yes…she was even wearing a little make-up today behind her curtain of hair. Gregg silently wished she didn’t hide her face so much…she really was quite cute.

It was clear that Gregg was having trouble keeping a rein on his powers when Charli tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing a glowing smile rather than the nervous one she used to sport. She still kept her gaze toward her feet, but when she looked up, her brown eyes shone like large liquid pools. She hugged her books closer to her chest and her weight shifted from foot to foot. Over the past weeks he had gotten considerable control over his libido and no longer feared being attacked in the quad by a horde of lust-crazed women. But today, he felt like he was a hair’s breadth away from losing control…and Charli never seemed more attractive. Gregg closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. He had been growing hornier and hornier all day, and right now it took all his will not to shut the door and ravage Charli. If it weren’t for the fact that Laura was on her way over, then Charli’s virginity might have become his newest prize.

Gregg took a deep breath and shook his head. No…not Charli…not this way. “I’m sorry Charli, I…I can’t. Not today. I’ve got an appointment coming any minute and…” Gregg paused smiling at his unintended pun. “…and I’m not feeling like myself right now.” Charli’s smile lessened somewhat and when she nodded in understanding, her hair started falling back in front of her disappointed face.

Gregg was about to try apologizing again, when he saw the laptop sticking out from her backpack. He had idea.

“You do web programming, right?”

The question caught her off guard. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Would you be interested in helping me with a…a grant application I’m working on? I think having an online component may be just what we need.”

Charli could see he was avoiding any specifics, but she was curious. “Yeah, I maintain the web pages for a bunch of local bands.”

“Good. Do me a favor, if you’re interested. Give me a raincheck on lunch until Monday. Then, I’ll buy lunch in exchange for you showing me some of your best work. Let me pick your brain, and if everything looks good, I’ll see if I can find you something more interesting than doing Microsoft Office upgrades for your workstudy.”

Charli beamed in pleasure. “Okay, it’s a date! Uh, I mean…sorry…lunch.”

She turned and happily started walking down the hall toward the stairs. Around the corner came running a long-legged blonde, ponytail swinging back and forth. She breezed right past Charli, seeming not to even notice her. But Charli noticed. It was that same bitchy sorority girl that had teased her those weeks ago. Charli watched in disbelief as she skidded to a halt in front of Gregg’s office.

“I’m here! I got here as fast as I could!”

“Good. Close the door.”

The heavy oak slab slammed shut. Charli thought about listening in, wondering why Gregg would have an “important” appointment with that skank. She wanted to listen, but she felt an irresistible urge to keep her distance. Seeing a small study nook down the hall, she checked her watch and decided that since she had time until her study group, she’d wait and see if she could learn what was going on…

“I’m here! I got here as fast as I could!”

Gregg looked up and given her flush face and her labored breathing, he could see that Laura had indeed run as fast as she could to heed his call. Her chest heaved as she tried catching her breath. The O and the X on her t-shirt rising and spreading above her perky little breasts.

“Good. Close the door.”

The heavy oak door slammed shut, its resounding echo filling the room. Gregg closed his eyes and sent an unsubtle and forceful command to anyone nearby to avoid his office. He imagined the command like an inflated bubble and to his relief felt it remain in place, like invisible sphere of mental energy guiding would-be listeners or just passers-by away from his door.

Laura stood in front of his desk, not even daring to consider taking a seat without his permission. For long seconds Gregg stared at her intently. She felt like an ant under a magnifying glass, intently scrutinized, and only a whim away from being fried.

“You made it here quickly. That’s good.” Laura smiled, relief flooding her face, excitement beginning to build between her legs. Gregg was lacing his every word with tiny stabs of sexual pleasure and desire, wanting her to drip with need at the very sound of his voice. “When was your sorority founded?”

While not exactly a question she expected, the answer was thoroughly drilled into her head during her probationary period.

“April 15, 1992.”

“Are there other chapters?”

“No – we’re the only one.”

“Tell me, how can your little friend Natalie still be a pledge during the summer? I thought Greek rush was when school started.”

Laura was taken off guard by the question. No one in the sorority talked about sorority business outside of Omega Xi. But her loyalty to OX was fighting a losing battle waged by the throbbing need coming from her clit.

“We don’t take pledges in the fall like everyone else. We wait until those wanting a lesser sorority are weeded out. Only those who have enough confidence to skip the regular Greek rush that begins in September are considered.”

“Still, that means she’s been a pledge for nearly eight months now.”

Laura’s legs rubbed against one another, her need nearly beyond her ability to control. Gregg watched with amusement. Really, all he needed was a white Persian cat to stroke and his self-image as an evil mastermind would be complete. “We’re the best of the best.” Her tone still hinted at the obviousness of that statement. Knowing how little regard Dr. Walters seemed to have for that fact, she wisely opted to soften her tone. “I mean…we demand a lot from our pledges. They must prove their loyalty and…and skills…over the course of a year. Only a dozen or so ever become fully active each year.”

Gregg was intrigued. He wanted to know more, but right now he had more immediate demands. Gregg stood and, with an unspoken mental command, Laura dropped to her knees beside the big grey desk. He stood before her and with another mental push, she immediately unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, pulling them down to his knees. Laura didn’t question how or why she did these things. It was just what she knew was expected of her.

Freed at last from its cotton prison, Gregg’s massive cock sprang forth, hard as iron, throbbing with need. Laura held it firmly in one hand, her mouth descending on the tip with the hunger of sexual starvation. Her lips stretched wide to accommodate his girth and without prompting, she began bobbing her head up and down his length as deeply as she could. It was frustrating that she would gag with only half of his length in her mouth, despite her desperate desire. She remembered with painful clarity that Natalie, the OX pledge she was commanded by Dr. Walters to simultaneously abuse and champion easily sucked this huge cock all the way to the base. It galled her to no end that she was bested by a mere pledge, or ‘plebe’ as she called her. The only consolation to her humiliation was the groans of pleasure coming from the man she was so desperately trying to please. That little bit of encouragement was all she needed to use every technique she could think of in her desire-ridden brain to summon forth her reward of his manly cream.

Gregg was as turned on by Laura’s incredible mouth work as he was by the thoughts swimming through her mind. He remembered that when she last sucked his dick, he made sure he made no overt display of his pleasure, heightening her humiliation. Now her every thought was directed at pleasing him. Her own desires were secondary to fulfilling his wishes.

FLASH Gregg sitting naked on a make-shift throne in his large tent. Half a dozen women clad in nearly transparent white robes lie at his feet, all recovering from intense orgasms.

The memory of his vision filled him with a sense of power. Laura was his. Her pleasure and pain were his to command. If she pleased him she would be rewarded. If she failed him, she would be driven crazy by her own unfulfilled lust. Destiny knelt at his feet. Destiny sucked his cock. Destiny was his to command.

Gregg’s own power-wrought lust was building to its bursting point. His knowledge of the power he held over the once high and mighty blonde fueling his passion as surely as her sucking mouth and lashing tongue. He grabbed her head in both hands, holding her face steady as he thrust his cock in and out of her mouth. He wasn’t gentle, but he at least didn’t thrust too deeply. He had no intention of suppressing her gag reflex, nor did he have any intention of cleaning a pile of vomit off the floor.

Laura had sucked enough dicks in her life to know Dr. Walters was nearing release. She sucked as hard as she could, her tongue pressed tightly against the underside of his thrusting meat. Any second now she would receive her prize: he would cum in her mouth and then he would give her the fucking she so desperately desired – the intense fucking she was forced to watch him give Natalie, yet was denied her.

Gregg’s hips became a blur, Laura’s mouth practically sucking his seed from his nuts. With a growl, Gregg’s fingers tightened against her skull. He pulled back so that just the tip of his cock remained locked inside her suctioning mouth. His knees threatened to collapse and his ass clenched and his sperm shot into Laura’s waiting oral cavity. Laura was ready, her tongue blocking the back of her throat so that she could catch every drop. What she wasn’t ready for was the sheer volume of cum that flooded into her mouth. With each tremendous spurt, Laura feared that she wouldn’t be able to take it all.

At last, after more than a half-dozen spurts, the huge cock stopped cumming, and was pulled free from her gripping lips. Gregg leaned against his desk, his legs unable to support him. Laura tilted her head back and opened her lips a bit, showing Gregg the pool of semen she had caught. She made a production of playing with the white liquid with her tongue, then swallowing and opening her mouth again, showing Gregg how she hadn’t missed a drop. Her tongue scraped along her teeth and lips, making sure she accounted for every last bit.

Gregg laughed at the ridiculous, and yet surprisingly sexy, display. He patted her on the head as he would a dog and said “Good.” He punctuated his praise by triggering a small, but significant, orgasm that caused her grab her crotch in surprise and then collapse against Gregg’s leg.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” she mumbled into his thigh, not questioning the odd timing of her release. It only mattered that she pleased him and that with his pleasure, she found her own.

Gregg stepped free from her, and she sat back on her haunches, panting, eagerly waiting to be taken again. He pulled up his pants and sat back behind his desk. Laura stared at him, her lust evident on her face. “I…Aren’t you…Don’t you want to fuck me now?” she asked, tears and desperation in her eyes.

Gregg sat back in his chair, pleased that she hadn’t even attempted to stand. “No. I don’t fuck girls that disgust me.”

Laura winced at his verbal lash, yet squirmed in pleasure as his words triggered a spasm in her clit. “But…but you fucked Natalie. You called me and I came over…” Instantly she regretted questioning his authority.

Gregg leaned forward, rolling his chair around to the side of his desk so he sat directly in front of her. She cast her eyes immediately to the floor, not sure if he’d be angry for talking out of turn. In the back of her mind, her submissiveness to this man was completely at odds with the strong dominant personality she had carefully cultivated in her three years as an Omega Xi.

Gregg lifted her chin with his hand so she was forced to look directly at him. “I fucked Natalie to teach you a lesson. You BOTH disgust me.” Laura closed her eyes and a tear escaped one, running down her cheek, dripping onto his palm. She forced them open, determined to face whatever he had to say…not that she had a choice. “You think you’re better than everyone else because you wear those letters. But you’re not. Natalie thinks that the rewards she’ll get by wearing those letters outweigh any consideration of how she should treat her fellow humans…and you encourage that. But looks fade and reputation fades even quicker. I’m just treating you like you treat everybody else. I hope that’s sinking in. You look in the mirror and see a hot babe. I look at you and Natalie and see what’s printed on your t-shirts: O-X. How appropriate. An ox. That’s all you are – dumb cud-chewing oxen.”

Laura was trembling with both shame and lust. Tears ran freely from both eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry Dr. Walters. Please! I’ll do anything!”

“I know you will. You’ll do anything and everything I say. Just like an ox you’ll follow where ever I lead. If I said ‘lick my shoe,’ I’d expect you on your belly.” Laura nodded her head vigorously, not aware that Gregg’s words held more truth than she could imagine. If her chin weren’t currently in his firm grip, she would have dropped to the floor, tongue-polishing his footwear. “I might yet fuck you. Maybe. If you apologize for your behavior.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she cried, knowing his forgiveness was all that stood between her and sexual fulfillment.

“You’re apologizing to the wrong person! Do you even remember why I called you into my office that first time?”

“Y…yes. I…we…insulted that girl…”

“That girl has a name!” he shouted, painfully squeezing her chin. Laura flinched in fear. Gregg took a calming breath. “Charli. Her name is Charli and you’re just a worm compared to her. If I were you, I’d make things right with her…both of you. Be nice to her and maybe…well, let’s just say it’d be a good start.” Gregg dropped her chin and rolled back behind his desk. He turned on his computer again, having regained some clarity of mind with his sexual release. Not even looking in her direction, he said, “Get out. I have some phone calls to make.”

Laura stood on shaky legs, still weak from the aftermath of her small orgasm and the intense desire fueled by his continuing humiliation and her deep shame. She opened the door and looked back, but Dr. Walters was intently looking at his computer screen, not a glance in her direction. With that, she slipped out, letting the door close quietly behind her.

Charli watched from the yellow padded office furniture in the hallway corner. She hid her face behind an old copy of the Chronicle of Higher Education that was lying on the table beside her when Gregg’s office door opened. Slowly the blonde sorority girl emerged, looking very shaken. It was a bit far to see, but Charli was pretty sure that the girl had been crying. Charli watched as the blonde stood in front of the closed door for several seconds with her head down, her hand covering her eyes. She paced back and forth a few times, wiping her tear-stained cheek: every inch a woman upset.

Finally the blonde pulled out a cell phone from her pocket and dialed a number.

“Yeah, it’s Laura. Is Natalie there?...No?…Well where is she?...I don’t care! Find her and have her call me immediately. IMMEDIATELY! Do you understand?” Laura snapped her phone shut angrily and stalked off. Charli hid even deeper behind the paper, as the blonde (‘Laura…that’s what she said her name was’) stalked passed her, muttering under her breath, “If I was her, where would I hang out…have to find her…have to find her…”

Charli was more confused than ever. Laura couldn’t have been in Gregg’s office for more than ten minutes, but in that time she had been reduced to a teary mess. ‘Well, I guess anything that makes that bitch suffer, makes me happy,’ she thought. She gave one more glance down toward Gregg’s office and her face broke out in a huge smile. Monday’s lunch couldn’t come fast enough. In the meantime, she had a study group to attend and then some websites to polish.

A half hour later, Gregg was shutting down his computer again, this time ready to head home…well, Heather’s home. He spent every night and most evenings at her place now – his own apartment served as not much more than storage for clothes and books. His moment of calm following his domination of Laura was quickly dissipating and the sexual hunger that had him on edge all afternoon had nearly regained full strength. His hopes for at least getting more course work done had quickly vanished. At this point it was probably better to wait for Heather at her place than kid himself into thinking he’d get anything more accomplished.

Just when he thought he was free of his office, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” Gregg shouted a little irritably.

A smallish man wearing a black trench coat leaned heavily against the solid door, propped open with a small piece of wood between the heavy oak slab and the frame. With a grunt he managed to get it open enough to slip inside and then let it close with a loud thunk against the improvised doorstop.

“Excuse me, are you Dr. Walters?”

“That’s me. How can I help you?”

“I didn’t catch you at a bad time, did I?” Gregg shook his head slightly, choosing civility over his more pressing urges. “No? Good. I won’t take but a minute of your time. I can tell you’re anxious to leave. I’m interested in sitting in on some of your classes.”

“Uh, okay. Um, have a seat.” Gregg indicated one of the empty chairs opposite his desk near the small round table in the corner. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Call me Deuce.” Gregg started to rise from his chair to shake hands, but Deuce just said, “No need to get up.” Realizing that his dick had once again regained its full hardness inside his pants, Gregg was silently grateful that Deuce’s gesture kept him from embarrassing himself. It also struck Gregg as odd that someone named “Deuce” would have an English accent.

“So, which class were you thinking of sitting in on? This coming term I’m only teaching freshman and sophomore level courses.”

“Oh, I think anything would be fine. I’m here in town doing research and I’ve always had a thing for archeology, so I thought it might be fun to eavesdrop…on a lecture or two that is.” Deuce seemed to be smiling at his own private joke, but whatever it was, Gregg didn’t get it. “I like to wonder, when this world finally destroys itself, if a future archeologist finds say, a gun, and by some miracle it still works, will he shoot himself or will he shoot his friends?”

Gregg was uncomfortable with the tone of Deuce’s question. It was almost as if he weren’t actually asking a rhetorical question…but was looking to Gregg to provide an answer. Gregg decided to change subjects. “Um…interesting question…Uh, and what is it that you do?”

Deuce gave Gregg an amused smile. “I’m sort of a jack of all trades, you might say. A little psychology, a little sociology, a little theater. You could say I’m a people-person.” Again he had that inside joke look, but again Gregg was at a loss. “Right now I’m working on a couple of case studies – people with significant…uh, resources…and how they use them…or are used by them.”

The fact that the man’s answer was particularly vague didn’t bother Gregg. It should have – he was always someone not content with vague answers – but the man’s demeanor kept him from probing further…that or the fact that he didn’t want to prolong this conversation any longer than necessary. He hoped Heather would be able to leave work early…

“How long will you be in the States?” Gregg asked, guessing by the man’s accent that he wasn’t from around here.

“Oh, I travel quite a bit. The people I’m studying don’t really live near each other, although I think that may not be the case for much longer. You see, their…uh…benefactor never intended them to receive this…gift, and more importantly it wasn’t intended to be given to more than one person…it kind of ruined the parameters of the study.”

Gregg just looked at him weirdly. The man wasn’t making any sense. Rather than clarifying his odd statement, Deuce just continued on a different track. “So, I figured if I was going to have to spend some time in the area, I’d entertain myself by observing your class. I’m not looking for course credit and don’t need a grade…I’d just like to sit back and observe. I won’t be a bother…in fact you’ll hardly even notice that I’m there. What do you say, do we have a deal?”

Gregg found himself agreeing without really giving it any thought. “Sure. I guess there wouldn’t be any harm.”

“Great, it’s settled then. Let me give you my card in case you ever need to reach me.” Gregg couldn’t imagine why he’d need to contact a person just sitting in his class. Deuce pulled a business card out from one of the pockets of his coat and handed it to Gregg. It read:

Deuce X. Machinaw

Hand of God Research, Ltd.

“Minds over matter”

There was also address, phone, and email information. Gregg looked up at Deuce who was looking at Gregg like he was waiting for him to get the punchline. When it was apparent that Gregg didn’t get it, what ever “it” was, Deuce’s face fell a little and he sighed. “Well, I should probably get going. I’ll see you again in class Professor. Regards to Heather. I have to admit, I’ve always been partial to redheads myself,” he said with a sly wink.

Deuce stood and extended his hand. Gregg stood and took his grasp. The room spun and Gregg had to put his hand on the desk to keep from falling over. Deuce smiled and released his grip, turned and exited the office before Gregg could fully recover.

Gregg shook his head, snapping out of his trance. He fingered the business card in his hand for a moment before opening his desk drawer and dropping it inside. It didn’t even occur to him to question how Deuce knew Heather…

Within an hour of that odd conversation, most of which Gregg couldn’t recall if asked, he was blissfully laboring away between Heather’s spread legs. She’d barely gotten through the door when he attacked her, literally. Her blouse was a crumpled pile just inside the doorway, its buttons scattered across the kitchen floor. Heather surrendered to his voracious attack, pinned between the door and his dominating form. Her skirt was pulled up around her waist and her panties still dangled from her left leg which was hooked around his thrusting hips. The thin apartment door shuddered as their locked pelvises banged furiously against it, the small decorative ornament on the outside crashing to the floor. Heather’s moans of pleasure were muffled by Gregg’s mouth, sealing his lips to her, their tongues in a passionate battle for dominance.

At last Gregg came, his seed flooding inside her. His orgasm triggered her own and her muscles locked in a pleasure-embrace around his deeply embedded member. She pulled his face away from hers by pulling back on his hair, gasping for much needed air. She stared into his eyes, ready to whisper a wry “Its good to see you too,” but before she could utter the words, Gregg lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He unceremoniously dumped her onto the bed, pulled her skirt and bra off, and reinserted his still rock-hard cock into her moist channel.

“Oh God, Gregg! What are y- ummph – ”

He words were cut off as he speared himself fully inside her, again crushing his face against her, again his hips pile-driving into her with animalistic need.

So went the rest of the evening. For four hours straight, no thought was given to food or any other basic human necessity. Gregg was completely insatiable. As soon as he’d cum, he’d be ready for more and would not heed Heather’s plea for a break. To her own chagrin, her protests consistently were forgotten as soon as Gregg started thrusting anew. She should have been sore from the endless ravaging, but to her blissful surprise, her body always seemed ready for Gregg’s next attack.

It was dark outside now. Heather couldn’t remember the sun setting. All she knew was that they were still in her bed, the sheets long since ruined, their bodies dripping with sweat. The heat of their love-making was no match for the air-conditioner that struggled to keep the bedroom from becoming an inferno. Gregg was now lying on his back, his hands firmly grasping Heather around the waist, holding her suspended above him while his hips fucked in and out of her at a blinding pace. Her large breasts bounced and shook with the intense pounding she was receiving, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. She was exhausted, but her body didn’t care.

“Don’t you two ever take a break?!?”

Heather was barely aware of the voice to her left. She turned her head and tried to focus her vision. With sweat stinging her eyes and her whole body being jolted with pleasure and Gregg’s continuous pounding, her brain barely was able to register who it was.

“Riv…AHHHHH!…Rivkah….UH! UH! UH!....Hhhhhellp. Oh God! Oh God! I’m – I’m cumming again!”

Gregg’s hips stabbed deeply into her abused cunt, filling her with yet another tremendous load of cum. Her body jerked and spasmed and fell forward through Gregg’s sweat-soaked grasp. The two of them lay in bed, a pulsing, sweaty heap. Both of them panting for air. Gregg’s cock slipped out of her hole, still standing rigidly at attention. Heather lifted her head, her thick red hair matted damply against her sweat-covered forehead, and looked behind her, a look of panic on her face when she saw that Gregg was still ready to go. In fact, he was already trying to roll her over while he sucked and squeezed her generous breasts.

“Need some help, Tatelah?”

Heather couldn’t muster the energy needed to speak, but her wide eyes spoke volumes. Her mouth was parched. She couldn’t understand how her cunt could continue producing so much moisture while the rest of her body was dehydrated.

Rivkah began nonchalantly pulling off her clothes while carrying on a conversation as if she were entering a Hadassah meeting. “E’dan’s up north playing with his cows again. I finally gave him permission to seduce that cute graduate assistant of his since he knew I’d be here all alone with you two. Tit-for-tat as you Americans are so fond of saying.”

Her shirt and bra fell to the floor. “I was going to let him have his fun…maybe stay in tonight, enjoy a good book, but ACH! such a racket from down here!” Her pants joined the rest of her clothes. “And really, you two should lock your doors…you never know who could be out there…” Her panties join the pile. Rivkah climbed onto the bed behind Gregg, wearing only her long black braid and a smile. Gregg seemed completely unaware of her presence as he continued nursing on Heather’s tit.

Rivkah was not a woman to be ignored. She grabbed Gregg’s right thumb and pulled it and his arm behind his back in a painful wrist-lock. That finally made him notice her. Once she was sure she had his complete and undivided attention, she brushed his sweaty locks off his forehead. “My dear boy, don’t you know it’s impolite to ignore your elders?”

If Heather was anything but an exhausted heap to Gregg’s left, she would have laughed. Sure, Rivkah might have been almost fifteen years older than them, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her well-toned and tanned body. She had the strength of a body builder, but the feminine grace of a dancer…and from what they’d seen before, the agility of an assassin. Where E’dan’s muscular frame was riddled with scars, Rivkah’s was near flawless. E’dan once commented that scars were reminders of past mistakes earned during their military service with the Massad. Given that logic, it didn’t appear that Rivkah made many mistakes…

Gregg’s eyes shifted back and forth from Heather to Rivkah, like an animal trapped. Still brimming with sexual desire, Gregg had no qualms about using his power. To Rivkah’s surprise, her grip loosened somewhat and Gregg quickly pinned her beneath him. She knew she should have been able to block his move and maintain control, but somehow he slipped passed her. In the span of just a few seconds she felt her own desire overflow and her pussy moisten beyond the excitement that built just from watching them from the doorway. Suddenly, he was inside her.

Rivkah moaned in pleasure as Gregg’s substantial girth filled her. Gregg pulled back harshly on Rivkah’s braid, stretching her neck. Her hardened body was molded to his, rendered soft and weak under his ministrations. She had fallen in love with and eventually married E’dan because he was the only man she had ever been with that could dominate her physically, emotionally, and sexually. But now, the young Gregg (young for her at least) had tamed her without even seeming to try. While this new submission in no way lessened her love for her husband, she felt as satisfied being at Gregg’s mercy as she ever had been with E’dan.

Gregg continued to labor above her, fucking his cock fiercely in and out of her dripping cunt. The bed shook and squeaked, the headboard banged against the wall with the violence of their sexual act. As they both built up steam for their final push toward their release, Rivkah abandoned her silent pleasure, unleashing a verbal torrent that was only half understood. Words like “Fuck!” and “God!” and “Cumming!” were interspersed with expletives that Gregg couldn’t decipher, but whose meaning was obvious.

A spray of hot cum flooded into Rivkah’s abused pussy, coinciding with her own release. The incredibly tight contractions of her vaginal muscles milked every last drop from Gregg’s spasming tool. If Gregg was even half-aware of himself, he would have questioned the physiological impossibility that his ejaculation now was as strong as, maybe even stronger than, when he first pounced on Heather hours earlier. But such reasoning was beyond his muddled brain for now. All that mattered was release. Control and release. Like a thirst that couldn’t be quenched, a hunger that couldn’t be satisfied, his engorged cock was ready for more, refusing to diminish.

In those few seconds of calm between his orgasm and the next round that Heather knew from the last hours of experience was inevitable, Gregg’s grip on Rivkah’s braid relaxed. Rivkah, never one to miss an opportunity to exert her control, and despite her full submission to her neighbor’s lusts, quickly thrust her head forward and gripped the flesh between Gregg’s neck and shoulder with her teeth and bit down hard. Her efforts were rewarded with a dribble of warm, coppery-tasting liquid and a resounding shout of pain and surprise from her victim.

The pain of her love-bite tore through his sexual drive as sharply as her teeth tore into his skin. Instinctively he again pulled her head away with a firm tug on her braid. “What the FUCK was that about?!?” he yelled, pulling back even harder so the cords in her neck strained.

Rivkah’s smile belied her helpless pose. “Let that be a lesson for you, my young boichik. Even a de-clawed kitten can still bite…So, do you still think you can tame this…pussy…cat?” The twinkle in her eye gleamed with both amusement and challenge. It was an incredible turn-on for her to finally have found someone besides her husband to submit herself to. But as E’dan knew (some of his scars having been earned OFF the battlefield), that dominance was always tested…

The moment of clarity bought with pain was quickly evaporating, giving over to the tidal lust building again inside Gregg. He returned Rivkah’s smile with one as sinister as her own. Before she could react, Gregg pulled his still rampant cock out of her clasping channel, flipped her over onto her stomach, pulled both her hands behind her wrapping her long braid around her wrists in a strange hog-tie. She tried kicking free, but Gregg simply kneeled on her thighs, effectively pinning her to the bed.

Rivkah was in shock. Every move Gregg made was one she should have easily countered. She wasn’t one to give in so easily, and she couldn’t understand why her muscles refused to obey her. E’dan had once gotten her into nearly the exact same position, but he had nursed a bruised rib and a swollen eye for days afterward. Gregg had handled her as easily as the kitten she jokingly alluded to being. As this reality sunk in, a wave of excitement went through her body and desire flooded her every pore.

Gregg pondered the woman pinned helplessly beneath him. Fueled with rage over her bite, he had seized control over her body, rendering her helpless so he could put her into a more manageable position. The desire that overtook her, however, was entirely her own.

The knot of hair really couldn’t hold her wrists if it weren’t for the control Gregg had over her body. And given the throbbing coming from his shoulder, he had no intention of letting go. He scooched backward so his shins pinned her lower legs to the bed. Sliding a hand between her body and the sodden bedsheet, he pulled her back so her rock-hard ass was in the air, but her chest and face were still planted on the bed. The overpowering odor from the combined spendings and sweat of Gregg’s and Heather’s earlier activities filled her nostrils. As the stale, sticky fluids smeared against her cheek, the unintended humiliation nearly sent her over the edge before her dominating lover had even remounted her.

As Gregg moved Rivkah into position, she was able to move her head just enough to see Heather lying beside them on the bed. The gorgeous red-head looked limp and used up, curled into a fetal position and drenched with sweat. Her eyes were filled both with lust and pity, knowing Rivkah was about to be subjected to the same continued marathon of fucking she had just been rescued from.

More puzzling than Gregg’s seeming inexhaustibility, was the fact that if he demanded it, her body was ready (in fact yearning) for even more pleasurable punishment! Lucky for her, Gregg seemed preoccupied with his current victim.

Rivkah shut her eyes in pain and pleasure as Gregg again inserted his cock into her tight hole. Her helplessness only fanned the flames of her passion. Quickly, Gregg built to a rapid and forceful fucking rhythm, her cunt channel stretched around his girth, her clit repeated rasped by the underside of his driving cock. She was held completely immobile, only able to grunt and groan her pleasure.

Mustering what little strength she could, Heather pulled herself up onto one elbow and leaned forward, kissing her helpless neighbor on the forehead. Rolling out of bed and onto the floor, she weakly crawled on hands and knees into the bathroom. Behind her, Gregg and Rivkah moaned and groaned over the sounds of their sweaty, sensual bodies slapping against one another.

Turning on the faucet in the bathtub, Heather set the water temperature as cold as her body could handle. With as much grace as a crippled drunk, she hoisted herself over the tub’s side and pulled the knob to direct the water flow to the shower nozzle. Pulling back the curtain to keep the spray inside the tub, Heather leaned back and let the cool water rain upon her overheated skin, opening her mouth slake her thirst. As she drifted into unconsciousness beneath the soothing shower, her hand drifted between her legs, seeking yet one more release…

Sunlight turning the insides of her eyelids orange. The chirping of birds. The feel of unfamiliar sheets on her naked skin. The smell of breakfast wafting into her nostrils.

These were the sensations that Heather’s waking mind first processed. Her eyes opened and adjusted to the morning light. She was not in her bedroom. A soft snore to her left caused her to turn her head, which felt like it had a ten-pound weight strapped to it. Beside her, Rivkah slept, a look of utter contentment on her otherwise dead-to-the-world face.

Heather pulled back the covers, surprised she had the ability to move at all, given what she could remember from the night before. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed and sitting up, it took several long moments before the room’s spinning slowed enough for her to stand. And it was only when she stood did the ache between her legs fully remind her of the previous evening’s activities. Her stomach growled loudly and she realized that she hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. And it felt like she’d run a marathon during the intervening hours!

Stepping into Rivkah’s and E’dan’s kitchen, a very awake – and very refreshed-looking – Gregg was making breakfast. Well, making breakfast might have been an overstatement: toaster-waffles and a frozen egg & cheese sandwiches were not exactly gourmet fare, but Heather didn’t care. When the toaster popped, she shoved Gregg to the side, stuffing half of the piping hot waffle into her mouth before sheepishly acknowledging her lover.

“Mrrng Grrg” she mumbled around a mouthful of food.

Gregg pulled the naked woman into a gentle hug, almost afraid to touch her. “Good morning, Heather. I didn’t expect to see you awake so early.” To both her pleasure and horror, she could feel his hardening prick pressing against her thigh. She pulled back, retreating to the opposite side of the kitchen breakfast bar, stuffing the rest of the waffle into her mouth, looking at him warily.

Gregg couldn’t help but laugh at her scared-child demeanor. “Ha ha. Don’t worry. I think I’ve got it under control for the time being. Have a seat, I’ll pour you some orange juice.” Heather gratefully took the seat at the breakfast bar only after leaning over the bar and snagging the second waffle out of the toaster. Twenty seconds later, the microwave beeped and she looked expectantly at Gregg, fighting down her desire to again shove him out of the way. Gregg seemed to know her desire (for food that is…) and simply gave her the sandwich, careful to keep his fingers out of reach of her mouth.

After getting the first few bites swallowed and washed down with juice, Heather finally managed to ask about what happened last night. “The last thing I remember was crawling into the shower. How did I wake up in bed…in Rivkah’s apartment no less?”

Gregg’s face showed a mixture of amusement and fear. “I don’t fully understand all that happened, but at some point, Rivkah showed up, and you disappeared. She and I must have fucked – sorry, there’s just no other word for it – for at least another hour or two before we realized you weren’t in the bedroom.” Heather nodded around another bite of her sandwich. She found it cute how Gregg could still be embarrassed by using “dirty” words in front of her.

“I finally came out of whatever daze I was in and heard the water running. Rivkah was passed out on the bed and I found you asleep in the shower. There was no more hot water, and I can’t imagine how you could have been asleep. I shut the water, dried you off, and carried you out into the bedroom. You were a total prune, by the way…Anyway, seeing the state in which we’d left the bedroom, I decided to carry you up here to put you in bed. I then washed down Rivkah and also brought her up here. Now that I think about it, I was surprisingly coherent as I put you two to bed and returned downstairs to do what little cleaning I could…Your bedroom will probably have to air out for a week!”

Heather smiled, that last of the sandwich disappearing as she sucked her fingers clean. She decided to switch to a napkin when she saw that familiar look of lust creeping into Gregg’s face. ‘Don’t encourage him, Heather…Shit…I’m naked…that’s not going to help!’

“Anyway, I came up here and crashed on the couch. I think I only slept a few hours, but I woke up as clear as a bell. So, I walked down to the corner store and bought breakfast…I’m glad I bought extra.”

“Gregg, what got into you yesterday?” Heather asked, no hint of amusement on her face, only concern.

Gregg sat next to her, a little saddened and not surprised when she instinctively flinched at his closeness. “I don’t know Heather. I don’t know. Since yesterday morning, I’ve had this growing need, this uncontrollable lust. I was able to keep it together during the day, but once you walked through that door, I just couldn’t get enough…”

Heather considered making a “captain obvious” remark, but she could see that Gregg was perhaps even more scared about his behavior than she was. Instead she just rubbed his back, understanding.

Through the walls and vents, they could hear the phone downstairs in Heather’s apartment ringing. Both of them wondered silently who could be calling so early in the morning, but neither chose to comment. “I…I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Gregg asked, worriedly, unable to meet her gaze. “I…I don’t know what I would do if…if…”

“I’m a little sore, I’ll admit. But…but it’s a good kind of sore…Don’t worry – if that’s your idea of abuse, you can abuse me anytime you want!” Her joke brought the start of a smile to his face.

Both jumped when the phone in Rivkah’s kitchen rang. Heather quickly answered it, ignoring the soreness between her legs, hoping she caught the receiver before it woke Rivkah.

Heather answered the phone but instead of taking a message, Gregg watched questioningly as she turned her back on Gregg, carrying on a hushed conversation with the caller.

“Who’s that?” a woman’s voice said behind Gregg, echoing his very thoughts. A very sleepy and very naked Rivkah padded into the kitchen area. Even half-asleep, she walked with a grace that belied her exhaustion. She pressed herself against Gregg’s back and kissed him on the cheek. With her eyes still seemingly closed, she reached over his shoulder and grabbed his orange juice, downing it in just a few gulps.

Gregg shrugged an ‘I don’t know’ as Rivkah plopped down in Heather’s vacated stool, and sat with her head propped on an elbow. Gregg was sure that if he breathed hard in her general direction, she’d fall over. But as his shoulder throbbed, he reminded himself that he should never underestimate her again.

He started to get up to fix her breakfast, but her hand shot out and gripped his arm with surprising firmness. “If you think you’re going to serve me that nuked frozen crap, you’ve got another thing coming…besides, after a workout like you gave me last night…I’m going to need some real food.” She gave him a critical look up and down and shook her head ruefully. “Oh Tatelah, where were you fifteen years ago? My E’dan’s going to have to work ESPECIALLY hard now to keep me satisfied. His research assistant, Claire, has had a crush on him for a year…I hope he didn’t break her last night…”

“That was Chad,” Heather said, a look of surprise on her face. Gregg wanted to hear more about E’dan’s conquest, but the tenting in his slacks reminded him of the trouble it got him into last night. Instead he focused on Heather’s words, trying to ignore the fact that both she and Rivkah were naked.

“He was a little vague, but apparently he met a girl last night, or something like that, and according to him, she’s a total hottie. Insatiable too. He asked if we could have another little party – he said she’d definitely be up for it, and that hopefully Gregg and E’dan could help soothe her insatiable itch. I told him E’dan was away, but that she wasn’t the only one who was insatiable.” She looked pointedly at Gregg who blushed in response. “I told him to come over and we’d see if this girl and Gregg could wear each other out.”

Gregg could see that Heather’s agreement to introducing new blood to the party was simply a matter of self-preservation. The thought of fucking another nubile young woman was already causing blood to rush into his inflating cock. The tent growing in his slacks was not unnoticed by either woman present.

“I’m glad I told them to come over for lunch!”

Noon couldn’t have come soon enough. Gregg was like a caged beast by the time the doorbell to Rivkah’s apartment rang. His calm demeanor over breakfast had quickly evaporated as the animalistic lust from the night before again reared its head. He had managed to hold his desires to a barely-contained boil most of the morning, but while Heather retreated downstairs to do a load of laundry, Rivkah had to suck not one, but two massive loads out from turgid cock, just to avoid a repeat performance of the previous night. Her efforts were just enough to hold him off until their company arrived.

Both Heather and Rivkah had donned nearly matching sundresses, chosen as much for their near-weightlessness as for their ease of removal. They both knew what this party was about, so there no sense in having to deal with complex layers of clothing. Besides, there mere thought of putting on panties was almost painful after last night’s pounding.

A polite knocking came from the entryway and Heather stood to answer the door. Gregg and Rivkah were sitting around the corner, so they couldn’t see, but Heather’s scream had them both running to see what was the matter. Gregg stood frozen, staring in disbelief. Rivkah simply looked on in confusion, not understanding what the fuss was all about, but her stance said she was ready for anything.

Chad stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He looked exhausted, but he was sporting a huge smile. Standing in the hallway, Heather and some girl were entangled in a fierce hug, tears running down Heather’s face, partially blocked by a medium-length brown ponytail.

“Who’s that?” Rivkah asked.

Unblinking, Gregg stared at the hugging pair, unable to believe his eyes. “Emily?” he whispered.

The girl pulled away from Heather, revealing a remarkably cute, but also tear-stained face. Her eyes locked onto Gregg’s and she jumped into his arms, wrapping her hands around his neck and her legs around his waist. Their lips crashed together and their tongues invaded each other’s mouths.

After a long minute of silence while Chad, Heather and Rivkah watched the two make out furiously in the entrance way, Heather finally stood on tiptoe behind Gregg and whispered into his ear. “Gregg honey, why don’t you take Emily into the bedroom and get reacquainted. We’ll join you in a little while.” The only indication that Gregg gave that he heard her was that he turned and started walking toward the bedroom, Emily still firmly wrapped around his body as if she never intended to let go ever again.

Heather watched them retreat before turning her face back Chad. She gave him a peck on the cheek before slugging him hard in the arm. “How long have you known she’s been in town?!?”

“Hey, cut it out!” he replied, rubbing his bruised limb. “She made me promise not to tell. She flew out of D.C. yesterday around ten and landed sometime around two. I picked her up at the airport. God! You’ve never seen anyone so horny! Just driving back to campus, she sucked me off in the car! I’m glad we didn’t get into an accident! You’d think she hadn’t gotten laid in a year they way she was all over me last night.” Chad paused in his story as Heather and Rivkah looked at each other knowingly. “What?”

Heather suppressed a giggle and simply answered, “We’ll tell you later.” ‘Poor boy,’ she thought. ‘At least I had help dealing with Gregg…’

“Anyway, the original plan was to get her settled before springing her on you, but after last night…well, I hoped you all could help put out her fire! I mean, as soon as we got back to the frat house, she locked my bedroom door and attacked me!”

“Wait a minute…get her settled? Chad, what are you saying? Is she staying?”

“It’s a long story, and man, I’m starving. Can we go somewhere for a late breakfast? I promise I’ll explain everything.”

As horny as both women were, the idea of waiting a little before submitting themselves again to Gregg’s ravenous desires seemed like a good idea. Hopefully Gregg and Emily could wear each other out for a while before the party was joined in full. They quickly grabbed their purses and headed out the door, Emily’s moans of pleasure already loudly filling the apartment.

“So, who is this Emily?” Rivkah asked, intrigued. “Gregg and she seem awfully fond of each other.”

As the trio walked out of the apartment, Heather smiled and answered, “It’s a long story. Tell me…have you ever ‘played doctor’?”

Gregg had no idea how or when he had removed his clothes. All he knew was that Emily was as naked as he was, on top of him, and lining his cock up with her waiting entrance. It looked incredibly huge held in her small hand, against her petite body. As it speared into her, sinking in the first few inches, engulfed in her incredibly hot and tight passage, Gregg was overcome with desire and happiness.

It had been two months since he had last seen Emily. So much had changed since she was just his nurse in the hospital after getting struck by lightning. Heather was his love, but Emily also held a special place in his heart. The young slim girl with the coltish long legs not only nursed him back to health after he regained consciousness, she was also cured him of his virginity. A part of him still regretted that it wasn’t Heather who received that prize, but there didn’t seem to be any jealousy between the two.

Emily’s eyes were closed in rapture as she continued sinking further and further down his massive pole. It seemed impossible that he could fit entirely inside her, but they both knew from experience that it only took a little work. Soon enough, her almost hairless pussy ground itself into his pubes. Both sighed in contentment, both finally feeling complete.

Emily leaned forward and again began kissing Gregg as his hips began moving beneath her. Her friends Jenny and Brenda, back at the army base near the dig site in Tunisia had tried setting her up with some of the young G.I.s but sex with them always seemed less than satisfying. In truth, Jenny and Brenda often abandoned their own dates, favoring each other with their sexual favors instead. That night of Gregg & Chad’s “goodbye party” was their first taste of Sapphic love, but they were hooked. Emily joined them on occasion, but she always felt like an outsider.

Now, embraced and impaled by Gregg, she felt at home. Gregg only just started thrusting slowly in and out of her tight, dripping quim when her first orgasm struck. Gregg gave her no time to dwell in her pleasure as he began picking up the pace, thrusting fully in and out of her.

Emily broke the kiss, sitting erect on his cock, held in place by his large hands that almost entirely circled her slender frame. Her small breasts shook as his hips drove repeatedly upward into her. The tears that ran down her face were not of pain, but of indescribable pleasure. Gregg was as much an observer as a participant. He couldn’t help but marvel at Emily’s petite beauty as she shook and shuddered in pleasure. The visual aesthetic of Emily’s coital passion was matched only by Heather, who was herself a study in sensual expression.

As a second orgasm crested inside her, Emily’s muscles seized and clamped down hard on Gregg’s thrusting cock. As if frustrated by having the “brakes” applied, Gregg surprised her by pulling her close to him and flipping them over so he was now on top between her spread legs.

Emily’s pleasure-filled mind noted the take-charge initiative in Gregg that wasn’t there before, and she was more than happy to submit to his desires. Gregg pushed her knees back almost to her shoulders, lifting their joined hips off the mattress and began a pile-driving fucking that looked more like he was trying to nail her through the floor. He stretched out his body as if in a perfect push-up position, his weight held on his toes and his outstretched arms – Emily’s knees hooked around his elbows. His hips rose and fell in long, deep strokes. Emily did nothing to hinder his efforts. Her hands held his face as if she were trying to memorize every line and ridge in case she was struck blind in the next instant. She was torn between staring into his eyes and watching his enormous cock disappear and reemerge from between her legs. Time seemed to stand still as Gregg labored above her. Had they fucked for ten minutes? Twenty? An hour? Neither had any idea. With inhuman endurance, their bodies moved against one another, like marathon runners running at a full sprint, yet having miles to go.

Gregg lifted his hands one at a time to free her legs, and he bent his elbows, descending on her lithe form, crushing her chest with his, all while his hips continued their swift, pounding rhythm. Emily’s legs scissored around his back, pulling him against her pleasure-flooded body harder with every stroke. If her message was that she was no china-doll to be treated with kid-gloves, then she was heard loud and clear.

Gregg’s hands embraced her head, much as she had his. Their lower torsos slapped mightily against each other, yet they held their heads perfectly still. Emily remembered that this was the exact position Gregg had first taken Heather by the pool at her father’s company’s house in Tunisia, and the enormity of the symbolism of the moment wasn’t lost on her. She felt like she was back there, beside the pool. This time, instead of watching Gregg fuck Heather, he was fucking her.

The rapid cadence being pounded out by their union filled the room. Nothing existed beyond the summit they were both scaling. Gregg began grunting and panting, his own release imminent. Emily’s eyes rolled back into her head, her pleasure – spiritual, emotional, sexual – overpowering her very being. With an animalistic howl, Gregg stabbed deeply into Emily’s spasming cunt, his seed spurting out with tremendous force again and again. His pulse pounding in his ears drowned out all other sound in the room, yet he could tell by Emily’s open mouth and the tightness of her throat that she was screaming out her own release also. For a full minute, Gregg continued fucking into her, maintaining their peak pleasure for an impossibly long time. It was as if all the sex from the night before was merely a warm-up to this moment.

At last, Gregg collapsed fully on top of the petite girl, his head buried in her neck, desperately trying to catch his breath. He inhaled her scent, a musky mix of perfume, sweat, and sex. His body twitched and shuddered, the slightest movement by Emily causing a reciprocal spasm to jolt him. As his senses returned, he gradually became aware of Emily’s nails digging into his back. He was sure he was about to have another set of scars to match Rivkah’s from the night before.

Gregg tried to pull out of Emily’s still twitching channel, but her legs were still firmly locked around him, preventing his escape. Emily’s eyes were closed as she silently moved her lips.

“Emily? Em?”

Suddenly her eyes shot open, but instead of pools of deep brown, her irises were frosted over white, as if she had been struck blind. Gregg tried to pull away, but she held him in place with an inhuman strength. “Gregg. Can’t you see them? I see them. I see them all!”

“W…wha…Emily, what’s happening?!” He tried pulling back but she held fast. Her hands gripped his upper arms and he couldn’t break free. Her all-white eyes were wide open, looking around, seeing things around him…through him. Gregg tried to delve into her mind, but was blocked as surely as an ant is blocked by a mountain.

“We are yours, Gregg. At last we are complete. She is the soul – the fire. I am the life – the strength. WE are your light!”

Gregg was starting to freak out by what was happening. “Em! Are you in there?! Can you hear me? Speak to me! Emily!!”

“The others, Gregg. I seem them too. HE is your arm, the companion. THEY are your armor, the sword and the shield. SHE is your slave…And the other, the one you hold at length. She is the most distant, but she is your reflection.” Emily’s right hand released his arm and rested on Gregg’s sternum.

Suddenly, her body started to glow and it turned impossibly bright – too bright to look at. Gregg shut his eyes as tightly as he could, as if suddenly face to face with the sun. Her head suddenly flew back and all the energy inside her exploded. Gregg grunted in shock – with Emily’s release of energy every muscle in her body clenched, including the ones holding his cock firmly in place. Blinded as he was by the explosion, he could only feel her vaginal muscles fluttering with yet another orgasm and, to his surprise, his own! His body shook and spasmed with the unexpected release of yet another load of cum. His strength was sapped, and he collapsed again fully on top of his young lover.

Gregg didn’t know how long he was out. Coming to his senses, he was relieved that he could roll off (and out of) Emily. He gently held her face, looking to see if she was breathing. Finally, Emily inhaled, her eyes still closed. Slowly, she exhaled and whatever spell that was holding her seemed to release its grasp. Softly, as if an afterthought by whatever beings or power held her, Emily whispered, “Beware Gregg. He knows we’re all here. He’ll come for her.”

“Emily?” Gregg said, gently stroking her face. Her eyes fluttered open, coming to focus on Gregg’s face. Thankfully, their color had returned, but Gregg still looked at her worriedly.

“Gregg? Oh…ummm…I think I fell asleep there for a minute.” Not knowing all that just transpired, she wrapped her arms lovingly around Gregg’s neck, snuggling into his neck.

Gregg wasn’t about to tell her what he just witnessed – it would only frighten her. He was scared enough for both of them and her words haunted him.

Emily pulled his face down to hers for a soft, yet lingering kiss. For the first time since she flew out of D.C., neither of them felt that uncontrollable sexual urge. As if they were two magnets that were no longer held apart, they were now one. Emily’s soft, gentle touch soothed away Gregg’s worries, and soon all that mattered was the girl in his arms.

“Make love to me again, Gregg. Just you and me…before the others return.”

Emily rolled Gregg onto his back and began kissing a trail down his chest and over his stomach. Despite the lingering fear over what just happened he felt at peace under Emily’s tender attentions. The missing part of his life had returned and he felt whole.

The words of warning that were channeled through Emily’s helpless body would be dealt with another day.

“So you’re telling me that for an entire semester, your Gregg made no moves on you until AFTER he got struck with lightning?” Rivkah stared at Heather over the rim of her coffee cup, only slightly masking her look of disbelief. She turned to Chad for verification who nodded an affirmative as he shoveled another forkful of pancakes into his mouth. She put her mug down, and muttered “Men! It WOULD take an act of God to knock some sense into him…” angrily under her breath.

Heather smiled, fondly remembering the party at Emily’s where she decided to take matters into her own hands with Gregg. Seeing him in the hospital unconscious after the accident was when she first realized she had feelings for the geeky, yet handsome professor. In the time since, he’d proven his worth as a friend and as a lover.

For Chad, hearing Heather tell her side of events from the night of Emily’s pool party was quite enlightening. For example, he didn’t know about Heather teaching Gregg about tequila body shots. He almost spit his coffee across the table when he learned that she had given Emily her first lesbian experience that very night when everyone else thought they were just taking their time changing into their swim suits.

“Heather, stop! You’re killing me!” he said, one hand dropping beneath the table. Heather knew that Emily had given him quite a workout since coming back to Chicago, but she couldn’t tell if he was joking about the pain in his crotch.

She grabbed the sugar and started pouring it into her tea. No matter how much she added, she still couldn’t get it as sweet as Omar made it at his little café near the dig in Tunisia. Since returning, all the tea she drank just seemed bland in comparison. This little coffee/breakfast shop, which was just down the street from her apartment, was good, but she really missed Omar.

She looked around the mostly empty shop. It was that quiet time in the academic calendar between the end of the summer term and when students returned and moved back into the dorms. Besides themselves, the only other patrons were one guy sitting at an outside table on the sidewalk with his dog letting attractive co-eds pet it, and an older guy in the far corner scribbling on a legal pad, sipping from a coffee mug. He had scraggly black hair and wore a black trenchcoat. ‘Maybe someone who thinks he’s a poet…’ Heather thought idly. “Enough about me. You promised you’d tell us about Emily’s return after we got some food in you.”

Chad rubbed his arm, remembering the surprisingly powerful punch Heather delivered a short while ago. Chad swallowed the last of his grapefruit juice. “Well, she emailed me a couple weeks ago. And this wasn’t the typical Emily-email…no juicy stories attached.” His eyes met with Heather’s and they both smiled in silent acknowledgement of Emily’s growing addiction to reading, writing, and sharing highly erotic stories. “She said that Gregg apparently wrote one…one he claimed was not fiction, but true. She wouldn’t share it with me, but it had something to do with him ‘teaching a lesson’ as he apparently put it, to two students.”

Heather nodded. Gregg hadn’t kept that little adventure secret. He told her all about it over a very romantic dinner…the same night she and Gregg had their little run-in with her old boss, Vinnie. That very eventful night ended with her finally sharing her own secret, that she used to be a stripper, and subsequently getting a spanking. It was one of the hottest nights of her life…until last night that is. She hadn’t shared any of this with Chad or Rivkah. On the one hand, it was a private moment between her and Gregg. On the other, she didn’t want Rivkah or E’dan thinking they needed to get themselves involved dealing with Vinnie or his cronies. Besides, Gregg seemed to take care of that little matter…if one could call knocking Vinnie senseless ‘taking care of a little business.’ She gave one last fleeting thought to her friend Crystal, last seen on Vinnie’s arm, now a heroine addict…

“So, she says that she knew at that moment that she couldn’t stay in Tunisia anymore. She says she’s bored at work, hardly sees her dad, all the promised adventure was gone, especially after we all left. So, she turns the charm up and convinces her dad to make some calls and she gets herself enrolled into the nursing program at Loyola. They make a special exception in her case because of her nursing experience here and abroad. Of course, the phone call from the governor to the college’s president didn’t hurt…apparently Emily’s dad has some connections. So, next week the dorms will re-open and she can move in. She was going to stay with me for a few days while she recovered from all that flying, but from the moment I picked her up, I just couldn’t get her off me!”

This time, Heather and Rivkah shared a knowing look – one that was completely missed by Chad. The fact that Gregg’s libido kicked into overdrive at the same time that Emily arrived should have caused them to raise questions…but it didn’t. Whether it was because they were both tired, turned on, or because of some other reason, neither would ever know.

“I swear, I just couldn’t keep up! She wasn’t like that at her goodbye party for us. When I couldn’t get it up any more, I tried eating her out. When my jaw got tired, I tried using my hands. No matter how much I made her cum, she was always ready for more. When I woke up this morning with her desperately trying to suck another hard on out of me, I called you. I’m just glad she didn’t attack the whole house! Speaking of which, when I get back to the frat house, I’m in for a huge load of shit! She’s a screamer – did you know that? Guys were banging on my door during the night, but I couldn’t keep her quiet!”

By this time, Heather and Rivkah’s laughter had them nearly in tears at Chad’s sob-story which he was telling with absolute seriousness. Heather was so happy that Emily was back. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on her tasty little body. She just knew that Rivkah and E’dan would love her also.

With those thoughts, the room started spinning. Heather was forced to put her mug on the table before she dropped it and hold on to the table’s edge as her vision tunneled. Her ears felt like they were filled with cotton and she couldn’t hear any sound beyond the quickening beat of her heart.

Her vision suddenly went white, and in the blinding brightness, she could see the outline of a lean, male form thrusting over the outline of a slender female form. It was like watching a shadow-show in slow motion. The male’s head reared back in a silent scream and like a collapsing star, the female’s form exploded, not causing pain in Heather’s body, but setting off a powerful orgasm.

Heather closed her eyes, her legs clenching tightly shut. After several long seconds, she convinced herself she wasn’t dead and she dared to open her eyes. Chad and Rivkah seemed to be doing the same thing. She shook her head, not sure what just happened.

They looked at each other confusedly, the memory of whatever just happened disappearing, leaving them only with the knowledge that SOMETHING important happened, but no idea what…almost like an anti-deja-vu.

“What was I just talking about?” Chad asked, as if realizing he had just spaced out for a second.

“Um, Emily. Emily and your desperate plea for help,” smirked Rivkah.

Conversation resumed its normal cadence, but Heather was a little unnerved. ‘What just happened?’ she thought desperately. As she shifted in her seat, a familiar odor wafting to her nose, and another thought came to mind: ‘And why are my legs wet?’

Ten minutes later, they paid their bill. Chad headed back to his fraternity house to face whatever ribbing his brothers had in store for him. Rivkah and Heather headed home, both eager to spend some time exploring (and re-exploring in Heather’s case) Emily’s delectable young body. Hopefully the little minx had siphoned off some of Gregg’s excess energy…

In the back corner of the café, the man with the scraggly hair dropped a five-dollar bill on the table. Standing, he donned his trenchcoat and tucked his notepad into a large interior pocked. He stepped outside, giving a final glance toward the three retreating figures. Then, despite the warm summer temperature and a complete lack of wind, he turned up the coat’s collar and started walking in the opposite direction.

Deuce looked forward to the start of the school year.

The next day, thousands of miles away in Amsterdam, the sun was setting behind the large hill outside the hospital window. Christine sat in a chair beside David’s limp form on the bed, various IVs sticking out of his arm. But she wasn’t facing David. Her chair was turned toward the window and she was avidly staring out, trying to solidify in her mind what she was seeing. It’s not that the view was particularly inspiring. It’s just that this trip to the hospital was the first time she’d been allowed outside the apartment since she arrived with her male companions.

David’s overdose was less a tragic event than a moment of clarity for Christine. For almost three months, she had willingly allowed herself to be kept as a prisoner in that crappy apartment, servicing David’s sexual urges. She performed the most deplorable acts with his friends, Brian and Adam. Brian was okay, in comparison. At least he tried to do what he could to minimize her suffering. But Adam was another story. Of everybody in that apartment, he definitely had the strongest sadistic streak. And yet, no matter how humiliating or painful a situation he would concoct, as long as she was performing for David, she always came. She tried to convince herself that maybe she really did enjoy everything that was happening to her. After all, her body wouldn’t lie…not for three straight months…

So why was she still here? Why couldn’t she just walk out the door? There was nothing holding her. David was unconscious, the door was open. His wallet was in her pocket. And yet, she might as well have been asking herself, ‘why can’t fly?’

Continuing to gaze silently out the window, she shifted her focus to her own reflection. Despite her less-than-ideal living conditions over the past months, she still thought she could turn heads…if only she didn’t have that black eye. She grabbed a lock of her hair and examined it critically. Once it was gleaming blonde, but at David’s command, she dyed it red. In the last week he’d even taken to calling her ‘Heather’ while he fucked her. She earned her shiner two nights ago when she asked David who this ‘Heather’ was.

“You’re not even worthy to speak her name, you second-rate slut!” he shouted, back-handing her across her face. Despite her eye rapidly swelling shut, she threw herself back onto the bed alternately sucking his cock and begging forgiveness. He came in her mouth and the kicked her out of the bedroom, muttering something about not getting blood on the sheets.

Then last night, he was brutally fucking her ass while she ate out a slender prostitute (whom he had put her brown hair into a ponytail). Suddenly he screamed in pain and threw them off the bed. She had looked up and saw him covering his eyes as if trying to shield himself from a bright light. Christine watched in amazement as he knelt there in the corner, a stream of jism suddenly shooting from his tremendous cock, arcing over the bed. Then he passed out. It was by far the strangest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

When he came to, he kicked both girls out of his room and locked the door. Several hours later, Christine felt that something was wrong. She couldn’t explain it, but just knew that David’s life was in danger. Adam was nowhere to be seen, but she got Brian to kick in David’s door. He was lying in a pool of his own vomit and barely breathing, a rubber tube around his arm and a needle beside him on the bed. A few minutes later, all three of them were in the ambulance en route to the hospital. The doctors stabilized him, but kept him asleep to monitor his progress.

“He’s not going anywhere, you know. We could get out of here.”

Christine looked away from her reflection and considered Brian’s offer. Of all three of the guys, he was the most gentle…at least when David wasn’t around. It was like David brought out a cruel streak in him – one he always seemed to regret later. He tried defending her to his face once, but after that he seemed physically unable to refuse to obey David’s orders. Yet, whenever they were done with her, Brian was the one who tended her cuts, scrapes, and bruises. The sad look Brian seemed to perpetually wear now was a testament to his sense of personal failure to protect her. But whenever David was passed out – which was happening with increasing frequency in recent weeks – she enjoyed curling up with Brian in his bed. Sex with him was always more gentle than with David, but strangely, not as satisfying.

“You know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I…I just can’t. Please stop asking me.” Christine wished she had a better answer, but she didn’t. Brian also wished she had a better answer, if only to explain why he had no ability to leave either.

“Maybe we could just let him sleep for a few hours while we walk around the city?”

Christine considered the offer. It took all her willpower, but she almost imperceptibly nodded her head ‘yes.’

That was all the affirmation he needed. Pulling Christine to her feet, he led her out of the hospital room and down the hall. She was wearing shorts that didn’t really fit her anymore (having lost weight since arriving), and a t-shirt she borrowed from Brian. But that didn’t matter. She was going to see the city. Even if this was only meant to last the night, she would enjoy her limited freedom.

Adam watched Christine and Brian walk hand-in-hand down the hallway, and snorted in disgust. Of everyone in that apartment, he was sure that he was the only one who knew what was going on. David was a weak-minded idiot who had somehow managed to get himself strange powers. And yet, despite these powers, all he wanted to do was fuck, drink, and do drugs. He thought back to those Psyc1001 videos about the monkeys who’d choose drugs over food until they died…and now David, his meal-ticket, had nearly killed himself…like one of those stupid fucking monkeys.

Over the months, Adam had tried talking him into using his powers to do bigger things, but whenever the subject came up, David would complain of a headache and retreat into his room. But there seemed no limit to the depraved things he was willing to do with Christine, but he seemed unwilling or unable to think beyond his small group of friends. Still, David’s drug-addled mind was remarkably open to suggestion, and any depraved fantasy Adam wanted to live out, David was willing to try. But this obsession with Heather was getting out of control. ‘Why didn’t he just take control of her the night of the party at Emily’s? Why did he take this stand-in instead?’

Something happened last night. Something that caused David to snap. He hadn’t been there to witness it, but until last night, David had been pretty careful when it came to hard drugs. Somehow, either Christine or Brian had betrayed him. One of them must have given him too much heroine…it was the only explanation.

‘Once David recovers, I’ll make sure I’m the only one he trusts…then maybe we can see about doing more than stealing hookers money.’ The first step, Adam realized, was to get back to Chicago and reunite Heather with David. Then he could work his magic, get past his obsession, and ditch the two lovebirds. He was getting tired of smacking her around anyway.

‘If I give him Heather, maybe he’ll stop his whining and finally start using his powers for more than getting his knob polished.’

As his long-range plan started taking shape in his head, Adam grinned with delight. It would take some planning and a little bit of luck, but soon he’d get everything he ever wanted. And David will be the one to give it to him.