The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

[Academic standards require that I reveal a special interest in the subject matter, due to what I regard as my unfair dismissal from the University of _____________ back in the days when sexual harassment was so vaguely defined. That the Dean of my faculty walked in on Cindy (the blonde cheerleader), and I, as she rode me vigorously in that big leather chair in my office should not have been considered as evidence. For those who did not read my previous account of the incident, she was just trying to find out what her dormmates had been talking about. No one testified against me, and, in fact, several other faculty members told me privately that HE had the hots for her, but had been unsuccessful. Publicly, my dismissal had to do with a loss of funding for my research into the paranormal.]

During the recent uproar involving behavior in the U.S. capitol city, I cast a discrete message out over the Internet, contacting men and women in discussion groups who understood my scientific concerns. I wanted to document its initial effects on the sexually active public. As my studies of the paranormal had advanced, I was coming to a hypothesis that part of such events could be explained by hypnotic effects, and even by altered states created by unintentional phenomena. That might include excessive tv viewing. [Note to Zoltar: YES, I know that you are from another planet! Do not e-mail me again! I said “part of such events”—please note.—Professor R]

This electronic medium is amazing. Before the remaindered copies of the Clinton Grand Jury Videotape had even hit the 99-cent shelf, I had several leads to follow. As usual, some of them were too shy or edgy about interviews, but one man was quite willing to share, and in turn, he arranged for his new mistress to share with us, too.

MR. BRENZ’ EXPERIENCE:

I am Chief Operating Officer of a software development firm. I’m unusual, in that I’m 59 years old. Most of my counterparts are younger, but I was fortunate to get into the field early. It is not immodest of me to say that I have a strong imagination—I’m just quoting the trade press on that—and that’s kept me alive in this field.

My wife, Kathy, is a wonderful woman who was an underachiever earlier in life. Lately, though, with our kids grown and feeling more established, she’s become a great organizer of charity activities. I enjoy talking with her when we see each other. Great sex of years ago faded, though, and she refuses to see a counselor with me. Then she rushes off to another event. She doesn’t have time to think about. It’s odd, but as I grow more secure in my work, I do have more time to think about it. I knew that I did not want to replace her with a trophy wife, though. I liked her too much, maybe even loved her still.

Out at the last conference in Las Vegas, Jim _________ had introduced me to his mistress. He’s a plastics molding supplier—makes cabinets for computer equipment. A great guy on our annual industry golf “tour” and she was a lot of fun at the big dinner afterward. He and I knew each other back to MIT, and so it was easy for him to remember how much of a skirt-chaser I was in college, and for him to have a suggestion for me now.

“Brenzie? Why don’t you quit moping about your wife and take on someone on the side? Wiebke and I have a lot of fun, richtig? Hey, she’s even teaching me some Deutsch.” He patted Wiebke affectionately on the arm. The 23-year old German artist was in love with the desert southwest, and found that she could overstay her tourist visa as long as Jim wanted her managing the company’s desert ranch guest house. She and I laughed good-naturedly at her clumsy, but generous, man.

“I don’t know how to go about that. The only women that I see are in my work place, and I don’t need a sexual harassment case. I was disgusted when I found that guy in Receiving doing, you know... I canned him and had that consultant draw up a good harassment policy.”

I actually had been very supportive of the women in the firm, and we had kept a good reputation with our policies and our implementation of them. And besides, I learned a long time ago when I was single that I only could go for intelligent, interesting women.

“You’re not looking at it in the right way. Hey, we don’t have time right now to go into it, but you’re big on training, right?”

“Yes....” I must have looked puzzled.

“The way to go about it for a guy like you is with training. There’s a one-week class out in Marin County, a... Master of Sexual Expression course. Short-handed as MSX. I’ve got the contact info at home, we’ll send it to you.”

“What will THAT do for me?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Hey, it’s just for guys like you. Believe it or not, I took it. Some guys just naturally pick up women, but you want to think about it all the time, and so now you can’t. The reason they call it a “Master” program is because you have to have finished have some kind of college degree even to get in. They can build on that and teach you stuff that Joe Six-Pack would never want to even know.” I noticed that as the blonde listened to this and recalled whatever Jim had demonstrated to her from the course, that she began to breath a bit more heavily. Her lips parted slightly, and her cheeks flushed. Something about her bra had become uncomfortable, and she tugged at it absent-mindedly, as if concerned that she was going to pop out of it.

“Sorry, though, talking about all this stuff, you know... Wiebke and I have to get back to our room.” They leered at each other and made a hasty exit.

Some weeks later, Jones, my 42-year old secretary brought in my mail.

“I tossed out the obvious junk, but this one was mailed First Class to you, with a real cover letter, so I left it in with the business stuff.” She pointed out an envelope packet from the “Master of Social Expression” course in Marin. Everything about it seemed so typical of the many business courses that I would not have paid attention to it, till I saw that my friend Jim was mentioned in the cover letter as my referral. I realized that there had to be a cover for the cover letter, and the amusing shift in course names must have been it.

All of the application material seemed so “usual” that I sent it right back as “approved” through Jones. She did whistle when she saw the fee, but I pointed out to her that the program was highly recommended for men (and women, as I learned later) like myself. After all, what company would not want its chief executive to “...learn how to make more effective contacts and penetrate to the core of the contact’s needs...”

It isn’t the appropriate place for me to describe their program, and I did have to sign a confidentiality agreement on most aspects of it. Probably the most important point is that I discovered that the other class members were mainly guys like me. Being in Marin County, they were awfully handy to Silicon Valley, where too many men had made bundles of money and had been out of touch with women for years. Now they did not have time for the dating rat-race, or they couldn’t tolerate the kind of women they met in bars. There were a few women there, too, all from high-tech industries, and some government men and women who kind of kept to themselves and wouldn’t say what agency they were with.

On the final Friday morning, I was amazed to see Jim show up to lead a session. We were all on edge, because this afternoon we would go down to Sausalito for our final exam. The course fee included the cute B&B rooms tucked all around town for our hoped for successful trysts. Somehow, though, Jim riveted our attention with his presentation on one of the last steps in the program, successfully managing a mistress. It put him in a new light for me—we were always kidding around when we were together, like college guys still. Of course, he couldn’t have become the business success that he is without a serious side, too, I realized.

When the class met for our farewell luncheon, Jim joined me. The air was charged with sexual tension—everyone wondering how they would do, and it was such a great week, that we wanted our classmates to do well, too. A couple of the guys were gay, and I think that one woman was a Lesbian, and heck, we found ourselves rooting for them, too. Everyone had an optomistic plan worked out—the cleverest being the gay and a straight male who teamed up to hunt for a hypothetical hetero couple from the Midwest. It would certainly be a memorable trip to San Francisco for someone when that worked out!

Jim quietly steadied me with his confidence. While others were chatting loudly over the table, he quietly reviewed the procedures with me. I was amazed when he volunteered to join me, but he pointed out that the INS had recently been asking some questions in his company’s ranch area, and that he thought that Wiebke’s time was going to be up.

“A man can get out of practice, you know... just having great sex with one woman regularly doesn’t make it easy to meet the next.” Jim was so practical. I caught myself wondering if I could even do it with someone new.

“How does Wiebke feel about this?” I wondered.

“She’s going to miss me, but she’ll miss the ranch more. But, hey, she’s a great artist, and someday she’ll be back in this country legally, a wealthy woman from selling those paintings she’s been working on. The government’ll be thanking her for blessing us by coming. And I do, too!” He chortled as he realized his inadvertent pun.

To keep this brief, Jim and I did join the group on the pier in Sausalito. Our instructors handed us the room keys for the B&B’s, information on the correct cab company to use so that reports would be returned to the school on our progress, and then hearty best wishes.

I had never thought that it could go so smoothly. Carmen and Amanda from San Fernando were taking each other’s pictures just down the pier. We offered to take one of them together, if they would take one of us together. We laughed a lot as we moved each other around, and with some intentional fumbling of the camera stretched things out enough to determine that both of them were highly visual people.

As each step of the training worked smoothly, my confidence grew. The two young women were so delightfully pleased with our chit-chat, and enjoyed our attention; they began to share more interesting information with us. They hadn’t found a place to stay here, did we have any ideas? Everything was booked up.

Jim had already begun to focus on Carmen—she seemed to be the more artistically-inclined of the two, and her I saw that they were going into deep rapport.

“Why not stay with us?” Jim was so blatant, I couldn’t believe it.

“I mean,” he added, Brenzie and I have two rooms with big King Size beds. We only need one, and you can have the other.”

Carmen didn’t seem fazed by this idea at all. I mentally sucked in my gut and gave Amanda a direct command. In our brief time together, I had determined that she was a woman who took in the facts and then made up her own mind.

“It makes sense, Amanda, and you won’t have to spend the rest of the day worrying.” I said it with the tone of authority developed in the Master program. Really, as my instructor said, it came naturally to me, given my career, but I had not been able to talk that way with a beautiful woman. A look of intense thought crossed her face, and I remembered that point from the course.

“It will be a deep pleasure for you to come with me,” I plunged ahead. Instead of slapping me, I saw the flash of subconscious recognition in her eyes. On the conscious level, she took this as simple information. In her subconscious, she was responding to Nature’s program for her, a program which I had now entered as an important variable. Jim briefly winked acknowledgement of this to me, and then turned to Carmen again.

“Well, do you girls agree?” Jim looked into Carmen’s eyes quite directly. They looked at each other, discussed it in simple terms, and they did agree. As they looked at each other, we saw ancient encouragements flashing back and forth. On the surface, they had come here for some fun at the pier. Underneath that, biological destiny had sent them searching—for us, it seemed. Authoritative, but sympatico, men who obviously enjoyed their company and were not at all threatening. Men with experience and success in the world, who would not stifle their own creative urges, but would encourage them. In ancient terms, chiefs of the tribe, men who would be justified, compelled, to take many partners.... and to honor their partners by doing so.

We stopped by the lockers where they had left their things, and then they wanted to get on to the B&B to wash up. Jim and I handed our chits to the smiling cabbie; they included a generous tip, we were told, but Jim and I both tipped more in cash. He must have had some idea of what was going on, but did nothing to break the spell which had brought him such a goldmine.

“Jim,” I confided while the girls washed and stowed their things, “I think that we are on our way in without the rest of the course stuff.” I was feeling newbie’s over-confidence now.

“Brenzie,” just follow the program. You can ad-lib once you have it down, but stick with the scripting now.” He was right.

We quickly sorted out our goals. Carmen, it turned out, had always wanted to be duena of a ranch house some day. Jim had already followed up on that information, distorting her sense of time as they visualized her future on the ranch, perhaps his company’s ranch. Her parents would be proud of her, as since coming from Guatemala they had worked so hard at menial jobs to get her through college. She sensed that it would be under his full authority, transmitted in the most intimate way possible. They would meet regularly and go over everything. So, considering this, and what I had noticed already, Jim would take Carmen and Amanda would be mine. That was assuming that they wanted to have us, I told myself!

Following the program, we each concentrated on restoring the feeling of deep rapport when the women returned. It was natural, then, that they would want to join us in our “planned” visit to the hot tub of the B&B. Actually, Jim and I had just learned that the place had such a critter, but we were flowing in a stream of sensual originality, and it came out sounding as though that was what we all had wanted.

Jim and I changed in one of the rooms, and the girls went back to the other. I didn’t try to stare at Jim, but as he pulled on his trunks I was certain that he was bigger in the manhood department than I had remembered. Then I looked down at myself and realized that I was swelling with excitement, too. I stuffed myself into the swimming briefs and hoped that I would not be too obvious.

The training was working, I noted. I had not even been aware of my own physical eagerness, as I concentrated on Amanda’s subconscious needs. Me exploring her mind in its open, altered state of relaxation, was far more fun for both of us than testosterone-driven macho play.

The hot tub was on a roof-top deck, surrounded by glass that blocked the wind, but let the sun warm us in and out of the water. Jim and I found ourselves helping Carmen and Amanda apply sunscreen. I flashed back to college as I made a mental note of how the clasp on Amanda’s swimsuit top worked. Man, it had been long time since I had to study things like that!

Both women wore similar two-piece Hi-Kini looking outfits—Carmen’s simple white showing off her darker complexion and her reddish-brown tinted hair, Amanda going the opposite route in black that set off her accentuated natural blondeness.

The water was warm and relaxing, but the pump that pushed the surging bubbles around us was a bit loud. It was so natural then, that Jim and Carmen became a couple, as did Amanda and I. I knew from their body language that Carmen was preparing herself for Jim at a faster rate than cautious Amanda was for me. A part of me wanted to worry about that, feel inadequate, but I pushed it down in a corner of my mind.

I led my blonde guest to a discussion of how the pulsating water felt... all around her.

“Have you ever enjoyed feeling like this before?” I inquired. I saw from the look crossing her face that she had. She could visualize it easily, and so I coaxed her to tell me about it. We are all adults here, she understood, and I was such an interested and understanding man, that it was easy to tell me about her former boyfriend, and... she giggled... how they did it together for the first time in a hot tub.

I drew her away for now from that topic, knowing that her subconscious was continuing with pleasant pictures from her past. We talked again about how people relax—I learned that she was going to be a physical therapist.

We were interrupted by a sudden change in her relaxed expression. I turned my attention to Carmen and Jim. “Simply perfect” I inadvertently muttered as the swaying Hispana had urged him to remove her top. Her elegantly beautiful breasts broke the surface of the water. Her nipples moved in and out of the water as she breathed deeply, looking into Jim’s eyes, ignoring us.

My friend had told me this might happen. They had raced ahead of us, and his quick nod to me confirmed that he had taken her into a deep sexual trance. They were embracing now, whispering throaty passion to each other, and Amanda was staring. They began to struggle joyfully in the water as they worked to get each other’s bottoms off.

I whispered a “thank you” for Jim’s tip-off and guidance. As Amanda stared at them, I spoke quietly, but with firmness to her—taking her back to her time with her boyfriend, taking her through the sensual pleasures of the sunshine and foaming water, taking her forward to a time when she would realize that she could take pleasure as well as Carmen, a time when Carmen and other friends would envy her choice of men. As she closed her eyes, she could still see all that.

“Amanda, I know that our minds mesh so perfectly, but I believe that your body is simply perfect, too. You would be more comfortable without your top, and perhaps Carmen would be a bit jealous of you.”

She blinked at me.

“I’m a 34D, she’s only a 34B” she said in measured tones. “See?”

In a fluid motion, she slipped off her bra top. She was right, and I saw that as she floated attractively in the foam. Carmen did not notice it right then, because she was climbing onto Jim’s lap, their swim suits having finally been tossed to the side of the tub.

As Jim and Carmen had set the first example to follow, I guided Amanda through her trance into each succeeding step. We calmly whispered about the beauty of their motions. They were thrashing eagerly in the water, my hands and Amanda’s absent-mindedly caressing each other as we watched them without shame. Her curves were rounder than Carmen’s, but really, it didn’t matter to me as much as it mattered to her. I could have taken either of them now.

Eons of evolution commanded us now, as Amanda moved in her trance in rhythm with our friends’ first climax. Her lips moved silently, as her remaining conscious mind told her one thing and all the hot places within her told her what the right thing to do would be.

“Amanda, it’s our time now.”

“Brenzie,” she purred, “take me.”

“Amanda, you will enjoy all of our attention. You are fully awake now.” She nodded and licked her lips.

Unlike Carmen, she stood to remove her Hi-Kini. Blonde curls covering her sex were wet from many sources. She enjoyed letting all our eyes run up her long legs, over her flat tummy, and across her overhanging beauty.

I, the guy who had worried whether he could still do it, was rock hard as she descended into the water around me, and our released passion was strong enough that we ignored Jim and Carmen’s lazy gawking. My explosion was matched and magnified in her powerful hold.

By now you have my point, that the program really worked. I really don’t want to get into pornographic detail, just enough so that you understand the concepts. By the time the weekend had come to a close, Carmen and Amanda were more satisfied than they ever had been before—and looked forward eagerly each time to being taken into the altered state that offered them so much beauty from within.

Now it was time for different messages, however. Since we were all so used to being together, it was so logical to get into the hottub one more time. Amanda suggested it, as a matter of fact.

“Why not?” Jim agreed, and for one last time we splashed about together. Eventually, we watched Jim and Carmen climb out of the bubbling tub. They toweled each other off lovingly, and then I saw that Carmen was slipping deeper into a trance than ever before. Her dark eyes focused on Jim’s smiling face as she relaxed, deeper and deeper.

Amanda had noticed them now, so I had to build on that, go with the flow again.

“Isn’t it great how Carmen looks so relaxed? Can you imagine how it would feel to simply let yourself unwind that way?” Steadily, we talked about how or why Carmen could be so comfortable.

“Amanda, as you are blinking and blinking more often, it would be more comfortable for you to let your eyes close.” She nodded and let her eyelids drift down.

“With all your knowledge of therapy, you can probably even relax more than Carmen.” Startingly, her body went limp at that point, her arms dropping to her side in the tub. I had never succeeded that far in the course, where we took turns hypnotizing each other. Of course, what I had just suggested to her was true, and she simply had put it into effect.

“Let’s climb out of the pool, and we’ll dry each other off. You’ll feel even more relaxed and comfortable on the bench in the sun.”

Without a word, she did as suggested and I followed her. I was sorely tempted to take her again, she looked so vulnerable, but Jim had reminded me that in the long run, what we did now was more important than setting some record for rolls in the hay.

Jim was completing his discussion with Carmen; they shared information with each other, almost as though both were in the other’s trance, so completely were they concentrating. Carmen would continue her studies for now, and would enjoy dating, meeting new guys. It would be fun, but none of them would be quite as satisfying as the mature leader she needed in her bed. In her dreams, however, she would enjoy remembering this weekend, and would yearn for the day, a few months from now, when Jim would call her to assume her position at the ranch. There was a part of it so isolated that she could enjoy her fantasy, a fantasy that she had revealed now, of riding nude on horseback and meeting a cowboy at a lonely clearing. Jim, of course, would be there waiting for her.

Amanda waited passively beside me, perhaps enjoying all of their discussion in her own subconscious.

“Amanda, you want a plan of your own... a beautiful future.” She nodded, her eyes remaining closed.

“When I count to three, you will open your eyes, but continue in your enjoyable trance.” She did as I told her, and soon we were deep into a discussion of her future plans. Actually, this part was easy for me, I came to realize, as there had been many such discussions with junior colleagues. It’s just that I had never done so with a blonde bombshell whose black swimsuit bra top moved up and done in steady, empathetic breathing with my own as we talked.

Colorado Springs, my home town, would be perfect for her, we began to realize. It was booming again economically, and in fact, I remembered that there would soon be an opening in the club where a number of us from the company worked out. The manager would take a suggestion from the president of a firm, since the sycophants who wanted a minute with me would go to whatever fitness club I joined.

“It will be great to imagine the mountains there, being up in high places—you’ll be with a strong man who is not afraid, and has the intelligence to think your way out of whatever adventure comes to you.” I knew that she would meet such a man there, because a couple of my programmers fit that description. They let off all their steam in rock climbing, and it had long occurred to me that one or the other of them needed to share that with someone else. I guess I was being a bit manipulative, not for her, but with them. If one of them ended up in a committed relationship with a sexy woman who loved the Rockies, they weren’t going to rush off together to some Sun Belt think tank. What a way to encourage career stability!

“Yes, that will be fun to dream of.” she confirmed. I asked her to volunteer the trance words that would return her to this state of pleasure when she would call me at the end of her studies.

“Simply perfect!” She said. The words I had blurted out when Carmen had first asked for her top to come off! Her mind had retained them, and now Amanda claimed them as her own.

“Yes, when you and I speak in the future, either on the telephone or in person, this feeling of beauty and of your own sexual power will come over you immediately when you hear me use those words. Simply perfect... simply perfect.” She nodded agreement and a tiny smile of satisfaction broke through her trance state.

You probably wonder why I prepared her for pairing off with one of my staff, rather than me. I know, it sounds improbable, but I really wanted what was best for her. She wasn’t interested in the corporate lifestyle. One thing they taught us in the course is that we really would become concerned about our sex partners, and they were more right than I thought at the time. She would have been happy to have sex with me again and again, but there would have been nothing else. In his class, Jim had pointed out to us that a mistress really shares in your life. You want to be able to enjoy just talking with her, knowing that great sex will come when you’re both eager for it. I had demonstrated that I had the course material internalized—now I just had to put it to the use that I thought was best.

Go with the flow, go with the flow, I kept telling myself, and so I took no overt action for several months. I had plenty to do in the office, and things at home did not change, even with a last ditch appeal to Kathy.

It was the afternoon of September 21st when Jones buzzed me to remind me of an appointment. It was Mitzi, our new attorney. I had only spoken with her briefly, had noted that she was about 30, attractive for a woman in larger sizes, and otherwise our paths had not crossed. I had made sure that the budget for staff legal assistance brought her into the fold, because her specialty was sexual harassment and employment law. I wanted to make sure that there were no gaps in our policies, so I had suggested the meeting after she sent me a memo on some concerns.

Yes, you guessed it. Within a few minutes, I knew that she was the one who I wanted. I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight, but she fit each of my specifications—brilliant, dressed modestly, but with a sense of style, a sense of humor that showed through.

She had taken the morning off to watch the Clinton deposition video in her office. It was a relevant to her work, so I suggested to her that she should have counted that as work time, but she was too ethical a person to do that. It had been so fascinating.

“I don’t think what he did was sexual harassment,” she asserted. I started to disagree with her—I thought it was, but she was one of his supporters who had a way with words, and a detailed knowledge of the law.

“It isn’t sexual harassment if she wanted it that strongly,” she smiled, making her point. I enjoyed noticing her face blushing as she courageously disagreed with me, the company president. I realized that she was entering a different kind of trance state than I had observed before, as she drew on all of her resources to advance her case.

“Not that you could, but if you wanted to, does that mean you could do what she did for him with me?” I asked that with a laugh. She picked it up and ran with it.

“Of course, I could, I mean, if I wanted it, I mean if I wanted to...” she tangled herself in her argument and in deeper thoughts.

“I missed seeing that video. I suppose it really wasn’t that explicit...” and again, she felt the need to disagree with me and she described in detail what she had seen and heard. She was breathing heavily now, and I picked up her pace with my own breath. We were looking intently into each other’s eyes now. Discretely, I pressed the “no interruptions” button under my desk, signalling Jones to keep others out.

“As you explain this to me, more and more, I think that I am beginning to understand what you want me to do,” I calmly told her, staying ambiguous for now. “But you are feeling more and more excited now, aren’t you?” I laughed encouragingly, sympathetically—it was easy, because I understood how she felt. Her conscious mind was busy finding rationalizations for a man who was important to her politically, but her subconscious mind was enjoying fully the thought of pleasing her leader, of finally knowing what would bring them together.

“Let’s slow down a bit, eh?” I paced her down to a calmer mode.

“You know I took a course just a few months ago, and I learned that there was a lot that your mind is dealing with below the surface. Oh, here’s the diploma, just in case you thought I was kidding.” I showed her the framed paper, the face of which showed that I was certified as a “Master of Social Expression.” Unknown to office visitors, the back of it showed a picture that had been taken with a hidden camera of which I had not been aware, simply showing Amanda’s face in ecstasy as she slid down my shaft. It actually was a beautiful shot, showing nothing except her openly shared emotions- the perfect encouragement for graduates.

She calmed down herself down some, relaxed as she eyed the intricate seal of the school. I took the naturally-shown cue.

“You’ll find there’s a lot in that seal, and as you enjoy looking at it closely, you’ll relax further. It’s quite intriguing.” One of the instructors had described this process before. I took it down from the wall and held it in front of her, gently moving it back and forth so that its frame caught the light from the track lighting above. Her eyelids began to sag.

“As you gave a wonderful defense of your leader, you are tired now, and you will feel like sleeping... and it is okay to do that right here, now.” She nodded, and her eyes closed gently.

I conducted her more deeply into a trance, and as we went along, asked her various questions, being more pleased with her the more that I learned. Of course, she insisted, even in her trance state, that genital kisses were not really “having sex” and that it would be wonderful to be so close to an important man. We agreed finally that she was right, that it was not harassment at all, that she would have done the same thing if she had the opportunity to serve someone so important.

The leadership genes, I thought to myself. She needs the tribe’s leader for herself. She knows that she is outstanding, a leader in her own right, but she wants a match worthy of herself. The other women in the tribe will wait expectantly outside the hut, enviously listening to her sighs and moans. In her trance, she agreed with me, told me that she had not seen it that way before, but now her random thoughts had coalesced.

No, I didn’t have sex with her then. I suggested that since she had told me of in passing through the trance of her interest in getting into a work-out program. Sometimes things mesh perfectly, and therefore I was able to refer her to my club, and to the brilliant new trainer there, Amanda. She should follow Amanda’s sound advice. And then we closed our session. Mitzi walked out strong and proud, having convinced me of the rightness of her case for Bill Clinton—and leaders in general.

Amanda and I had only talked a few times at the club—she was too busy with work there, and in her off hours she was dating several of my team. They all thought she was great, and they tried hard to please her, since it was so obvious that she was looking for a ‘steady.’

Now we were in her tiny office, both of us steaming from a race in the pool together. She was wearing the same bathing suit I had seen before.

“Simply perfect...” I said it easily to her, it was the truth.

She relaxed into a pleasant trance, her body showing tantalizing signs of the sexual arousal she associated with that command.

“Amanda, I want you to do something for me.” She looked at me as eagerly as someone in a trance could.

“I want you to work with a new member, her name is Mitzi. She’ll need a special program.” It was fun to suggest some topics for side chats between Amanda and Mitzi. Amanda was so clever, that I knew that she could expand on whatever we discussed here. But Amanda’s deeper needs were surfacing—her lips were parted, she licked them nervously.

“Amanda, you watched the president’s video here at the club, didn’t you?” She nodded.

“Amanda, I know that you are going out with some great younger guys, but wouldn’t it feel good one more time to feel the power that you have with me? After all, it wouldn’t really be having sex, would it, so it’d be okay with them. And you could hint to Mitzi about how great a feeling you get.”

Without a further word, Amanda tossed her top aside, and embraced me, pushing my robe aside so that I could feel her hardening nipples against my bare chest. She slid to her knees, enjoying the rush that she gave me, and pulled down my trunks.

As my penis rose triumphantly over her, trailing its already formed silver streak, she kissed my balls earnestly, sighing with little comments about her memories and subsequent dreams of our time together. I settled down in her office chair, and stretched back as she found every sensitive spot. I could only caress her shoulders, but occasionally she brought her breasts forward for my touch.

“This isn’t really sex,” she paused to gasp for a moment, and then brought her head down on my shaft. Her swirling tongue quickly brought my climax, and she eagerly swallowed my hot, white energy—she had told me before how it revitalized her.

We cuddled and then re-covered each other.

“Amanda, this is our last Simply Perfect moment...” I paused, and she nodded, “because you are about to choose a young man who will be just right for times like this. But you WILL enjoy whispering about it to Mitzi, yes?” She nodded eagerly.

MS. MITZI LIEBHARD’S EXPERIENCE:

It’s great being here at the ranch, being hosted by Jim and Carmen. Brenzie and I are everywhere with each other—something he still can’t do at home, because Kathy won’t understand. What we have is really unique, I could feel it in every part of me when I went in to see him after that trainer, Amanda, and I had our chats. Everything was so clear.

I can still remember how surprised he was when I told him what we were going to do, how much I needed him. He seemed relieved when I explained to him that it was not really sex, not the way that I understand it. For a few months, we just kept it that way. I would strip down to the velvet black bra and panties that he admired so much, and I’d loosen his clothes, and then... it was so great! I felt so energized when I’d go back to my cubicle. No one else knew what we were doing—we were so professional about it.

Perhaps Jones did guess something, but Brenzie is so great! He sent her off for a week course at the Master of Social Expression program, and she’s been totally different since. She even came out here a few times with Neal from Property Administration. He may be an old guy, but she sure lit his fuse!

Of course, my need for Brenzie became stronger and stronger. One day, while I was idly studying that interesting certificate in his office, I realized that it wasn’t enough to have him in my mouth, that I wanted him inside my other lips, the ones which trembled while I kissed him. Oddly enough, his wife was out of town at a conference that weekend, and Brenzie and I finally made love—truly became one.

A man like him must be able to please several women, I suppose, so I’m just enjoying the time with him. Still, it’s been fun in the odd moment to draw up this contract. I keep editing it. I don’t want a marriage to tie me down in my career, but if he’s willing to sign it, it’ll be great to drop the birth control, and truly feel him meeting my spiritual needs as a member of his tribe. I want to bear his successor.