The End is Nigh!

That's right, just about to ring the death knell of 2010 here at Casa Smutty Footnotes. Let me take this opportunity to thank all of you that have been reading what I have written, commented, and emailed me. I appreciate it all, believe me.

I'm putting the finishing touches to The Adjusters #12, which is turning out long (surprise! surprise!), and because of the New Year's responsibilities may turn out a few days late. But it'll be worth the wait, you'll see.

To keep you entertained in the meantime, feast on these two short but hot little mind-control ditties that I've run across in the last few weeks. The kind of stories that make me wish the authors would write longer never-ending tales.

First, Jessi, by M Collins: "A coworker orders Jessi to become a slut."

She didn’t deserve it.

Just about every time she was bent over her desk while a guy fucked her, she asked herself what she did to deserve being treated like this. What great sin did she commit to warrant being used like a slut whenever anyone wanted.

Truth is she didn’t do anything at all. Just happened to catch the eye of the wrong person. Now normally beautiful women catch the eye of the “wrong guy” all the time. Normally nothing happens at all except they get ogled by a creepy guy. But this wasn’t a normal guy.

Continue reading...

Second, Subliminal, by Beast5: "A man puts subiminal messages on his girlfriend’s phone, and then tries to see how far he can push things."

Give your boyfriend a blowjob tonight

I stared at my screen a moment before hitting ‘enter’. I was planning on testing out my new iPhone app with something a little more like wear a red dress tonight, but somehow I found my fingers typing in a somewhat more exciting command. Whatever, it probably wouldn’t work anyway.

Continue reading...

New Story: An Engaging Christmas (Part 2)

And now, the conclusion of An Engaging Christmas. I love writing Jenn. I think I'm love. Sigh.

Enjoy, and comments welcome, as usual.


An Engaging Christmas (continued)

Carole and Robert could be heard quite clearly as Daniel walked down the hall towards his room. Jenn was still under the covers, not having moved. Daniel slid in bed beside her, enjoying the warmth of her body. It was perhaps not overly surprising that he found himself aroused both by what he had witnessed already and by the sounds of fucking that could be heard quite easily through their bedroom door.

He hesitated before running a hand over Jenn's shoulder. "Love, you awake?" he whispered, softly enough so as not to wake her if she were she asleep.

"Of course I'm awake. Who could sleep through that racket? 'Oh, fuck me, fuck me!'" There was nothing in her voice but wry amusement.

"Yeah, pretty out there..." Daniel smiled, trying to remain diplomatic.

"I mean, 'Fuck me Daniel, fuck me Daniel,' come on..."

Daniel blushed, and could only stammer something inaudible in response. Diplomacy would be difficult. But just as he was madly trying to figure out how to get out of the jam he was in, Jenn turned onto her back and laughed. "Ah! You should see your face!" She touched his cheek. "Oh, lover, trust me, I've heard it all. Do you think this is the first time that my mom's brought a man home and fucked away in the middle of the night? That woman has a sexual appetite that rivals Serena's, and she's never been shy about it. Add to that the fact that she has a nontrivial submission fetish, and, well, you can hear what that leads to."

And as if on cue, from the other end of the house, shouts of "Fuck me harder you bastard! I'm your little slut! Pull my hair, come on, fuckin' pull my hair! Come on! -- Oh! Yes! Harder!"

Jenn chuckled and cuddled up closer to Daniel, who did not quite know how to react. He was painfully aware of his cock, hard as a rock against Jenn's hip and twitching as the sounds of Jenn's mother being thoroughly fucked resonated through the empty house. It did not take long for Jenn to notice this turn of events. She reached down with a hand and sneaked it into his pajama pants and ran it down the length of his cock. "Looks like this little bit of sex theater is getting to you, lover. God you're hard. Have you ever gotten that hard for little ol' me?"

"I'm sorry, it's just that -- you know -- I'm kind of just a man -- really -- and --"

Jenn opened her hand and pressed its palm into Daniel's cock, massaging it slowly up and down. "And it's making you all hard to hear my mother getting the fucking of her life in there? Is that it? You like the thought of my mom on all four getting fucked by her boyfriend?"

"How do you --"

"How do I know that she's getting fucked from behind? Oh, lover, that's my mother's favorite position, of course. I've been hearing this sort of thing for the past ten years at least, from before I even knew what it all meant. Let me tell you, the first time you barge into your mother's bedroom because you think that she's getting hurt and have to have the facts of life explained to you right there on the spot, you learn that nothing much can bother you after that, let me tell you. And besides," and at that her hand wrapped itself around Daniel's cock and started jerking it slowly, and Jenn craned up to whisper in his ear, "I find it kind of hot myself." And she kissed him, and drove her tongue in his mouth just as she was thrusting her pelvis against his and increasing the up and down strokes of her hand on his shaft.

"I mean, it's not like it's my dad or something -- that'd be gross. But having some young guy in there giving my mom the time of her life, playing her like a fined tune instrument, indulging her fantasies and making her come buckets, what's there not to like? It's inspiring, really. And feels to me like you're agreeing, no?"

Daniel groaned, the feeling of her hand along with the closeness of her body and the events of the night combining to send shivers of pleasure up his spine. He ran his hand down the side of Jenn's body, stopping to spend some time to caress and thumb a hard nipple through her nightshirt, before drawing down to her hip and further down to the hem of the shirt to her naked thigh, her soft and warm naked thigh.

Jenn sighed at the touch, and shifted her weight to provide Daniel better access. "Mmm, so, what got you so hot, then? Is is the sounds of her, or the thought of her?"

"Actually, I kindda sneaked a look in their room before coming back to bed."

"You did?" She squeezed his cock, which jerked hard in response. "You little pervert, peeping on my mom getting it on!"

"It's not like that! I was checking out a noise -- I swear."

"Right, right. And you just happened to stumble onto Robert giving it to my mom, and you just walked away, right?"

"Well... I admit that I did stick around a bit..."

She kissed him on the neck, a slow kiss that involved a lot of tongue. "My little pervert, getting his rocks off peeping through a door like a teenager in heat. Tell me, lover," and her voice dropped to a whisper, her lips barely grazing the skin of his cheek, "what did you see?"

"Well..." Daniel hesitated, but Jenn's hand on his cock urged him on. From the way her hips were moving, it really did seem like she was enjoying the game they were playing. "When I got to the door, Robert was on top of your mother, under the covers, and..."

"Go on," encouraged Jenn, giving a slight tug to his shaft.

"Well, he was doing her, right, and then he stops and he asks her what got her so turned on, and he wanted her to tell him... ooohh... that's nice, love, that's very nice -- don't stop -- and he wanted her to admit that it was because, well, because of me..."

"Because of you? Ah, he wanted her to say that the reason why she was banging him in the middle of the night was because she was thinking of you? That's so kinky! Then what? Did she tell?"

"What do you think? Didn't you hear her them before? Yes, she told him that she was thinking of me, wanting to do me, to be used by me, to submit to me, stuff like that, out-there stuff. She was pretty into it, too."

"You betcha she was. Who wouldn't like to get a piece of you?" She squeezed his cock again, before going back to rubbing it with broad strokes. "That's what turned you on, to hear her fantasize about you? How did our friend Robert react?"

"It was pretty hot, yes. Almost as hot as what you're doing right now. And Robert seemed pleased by her admission. Then your mother begged him to let her come, and he told her that she needed to be punished first."

"Oooohhh... nice one Robert! What did he do, spank her?"

"Yup. He got her on her hands and knees and slapped her ass several times, and she was clearly enjoying it, and then he fucked her."

Jenn closed her eyes and moaned, her hand on his cock jerking harder, her body pressing against his, her legs parting of their own volition. Daniel, never one to miss an opportunity, trailed his hand over the inside of her thigh, pulling the nightshirt up Jenn's trim body and reaching the G-string hiding her sex. He gently ran two fingers over her covered crotch, eliciting a moan and a twist of the hips from the brunette. "Fuck that's hot. On her hands and knees, her ass high in the air, begging to be smacked for thinking about fucking my boyfriend --"

"Like a slutty whore, was her words, I believe," added Daniel, helpfully.

"-- like a slutty whore. And he did just that, Robert, didn't he? Slapped her ass until it was red and shiny and then what? He fucked her, right?"

"Oh yeah -- lined up right behind her and gave it to her hard, and I think she came right there on the spot, too."

Jenn had thrown her head back, licking her lips, moaning, her hand job losing some of its rhythm as she pushed her pelvis up to seek more contact from Daniel's own hand that was still rubbing her clit through her now soaked G-string. "Fuck, I can believe it. She's always been such a submissive slut, always wanting to be tied up and spanked. Oh, nice, come on, please, your finger, put your finger in -- oh God yes!"

Daniel had pushed aside the thin strip of material covering Jenn's slit and slipped two fingers between the juice-coated lips of her pussy -- they had been practically sucked inside. He could feel her pussy shiver around his fingers, and he gently pushed them in and out, rubbing her clit with his thumb on the way out. Jenn kicked off the covers and spread her legs wide apart to provide him better access, her hand still on his cock but not moving any longer. Daniel did not mind -- he had other plans for the moment.

He bent down and kissed Jenn's neck first, then moved to her chest, kissing her hardened nipples through her nightshirt. He thought for a second about Carole's breasts, so similar to Jenn's, all the while finger fucking with slow yet vigorous thrusts. Jenn's hips were moving in rhythm with his fingers, countering his movements.

He shifted his weight on the bed and moved down between Jenn's legs. She whined at first when he took his fingers out of her pussy but then realized what he was doing and she pushed herself up on the bed and spread her legs wide to facilitate his access. Her eyes remained closed. Daniel, lying down between her legs, admired the familiar but perfectly shaped pussy before him, moist and glistening. He blew softly on her pussy lips, making her cry out and jump. She moaned as he blew up and down her slit, teasingly avoiding direct contact but hovering a hair's breadth from the scorching flesh. He looked up at Jenn's face aching with desire, and whispered, "Tell me more." And he blew again, very softly.

Jenn gasped, and opened her eyes and looked at him. She held his stare for several seconds before smiling. "You want to know what I think? I think she'd do it. If you went up to her and grabbed her by the waist, pulled her to you, and kissed her hard, she'd fold like a paper doll. She'd -- Oh!" Daniel landed a soft kiss atop her pussy lips, and Jenn closed her eyes again and settled down against the pillow, spreading her legs further and pushing her crotch against his mouth, sighing contentedly.

"Mmmm... keep doing that, just like that -- that's it. Where was I? Oh yes, my mom. I tell you, you show her you're the boss, and she'd happily submit and do whatever you want. Picture this, okay? You ready? You come into the living room one day, and she's sitting pretty on the couch, reading or something, and you stop on the middle of the room, and tell her to come and worship your cock. She's blushing and she's trying to tell you to be serious and stuff and you just go 'get down here on your knees, bitch, and suck my cock,' and just like that she does it -- kneels before you, looking down, and takes you in her mouth and starts sucking. And from what I've heard over the years, let me tell you, she sucks a mean cock. 'Take it all, you bitch, choke on this motherfucker, drool all over it, slobber all over it,' you go, and you fuck her mouth without regard to how she's feeling, and she swallows your cock whole, all the way down her throat, pushing her nose into your pubes and keeping it there until you start spurting all over the place, and she swallows it all like the cum-loving slut that she is. I'd love to see it, too, her taking your cum like a common whore. Can you imagine it, my mother on her knees before you drinking directly from the hose?"

Daniel could, very easily. His cock was throbbing against the bed, even the minimal contact with the mattress enough to cause spikes of pleasure. He was licking and sucking on Jenn's pussy lips and her clit like a madman by that point, and Jenn was writhing in response to the stimulation. She loved getting eaten, and Daniel took a point of pride in doing the best job he could. Still licking and sucking, he thrust a finger then two inside her, making her gasp and interrupting the flow of her monologue. She spent the next minute moaning and groaning and rotating her ass on the bed in time with his ministrations.

"God you do that so well! Mmmmm... Then after you come, and after she's cleaned up your cock with her mouth, I tell her to go and put on that little outfit that she has and -- Oh fuck! -- that she keeps for some of her more special friends -- I wonder if Robert's seen it yet -- Fuck yes, faster! -- It's a corset, red, tight, very tight. The kind that makes her tits stand out and her waist tiny, like a walking wet dream. With a pair of stockings and tall spike heels, she's like sex incarnate -- Yes! Lick me! Right! There! Yes! -- I tell her not to bother with underwear, that my man wants easy access to his slut -- Fuck! Fuck! -- When she comes back into the room, decked out like a hooker trolling for a john, I tell her to dance for you, and she does, shaking her little body to the music, and she turns it into a lap dance, shaking her fat tits in your face -- Fucking fat tits! Fuck! In your face! Yes! Harder! Harder! -- rubbing her naked ass on your cock, kissing you, teasing you, playing with you. And when you're nice and hard she sink down on your cock and rides you like a bronco -- Yes! YES!"

Daniel's tongue and fingers were actively doing a dance of their own between Jenn's legs, and she was thrusting her hips up against him, harder and harder. He could tell she was getting closer and closer to an ear-shattering orgasm. He smiled to himself, and with the thumb of the hand that was busy finger fucking his fiancee, he tickled the tight rosette of her ass, slick with her copious juices. She groaned when she felt the exploring digit, and shifted her hips to provide him better access. Gently, but purposely, he pushed his thumb inside, past her gripping sphincter, and proceeded to finger fuck her pussy and her ass at the same time.

"Oh fuck! Yes! That feels -- fuck! Is that what you'd do to her, to my mom? Stick your finger up her ass? She does have a beautiful ass doesn't she? -- Fuck yes! Faster! Harder! -- Wouldn't you want to grab it and spank it and fuck it? She'd let you, you know? -- Fuck me! Stick'em in deeper! Come on! Fuck me! -- She's such a slut she'd let you fuck her in the ass, she'd let you stick that big cock of yours up her little asshole and -- Fuck! Fuck! -- she'd come wailing like a skewered whore, she would, and -- Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! Yes! -- and -- Fuck! -- and you'd love it wouldn't you? To drive your cock up my mom's ass as deep as it'll go, hear her scream hear her cry hear her come as her ass squeezes you harder and harder and her cheeks all big and right there in your face and you can just slap them as you fuck and -- Fuck! Yes! Fuck! Yes! FUCK! Yes! YES! FUUUUCK! --"

She came. Her body tensed up as if a strong current had seized it, while Daniel sucked hard on her clit with two fingers in her pussy and his thumb in her ass, and she came. She was silent after her last exclamation, shivers racking her body in utter silence, her thighs clenching around Daniel's head, keeping him in place with his mouth glued to her crotch.

She eventually relaxed and let him go, and he lay down next to her, caressing her face. His cock was still hard, and was bobbing against his stomach, seeking attention. Jenn noticed, and lazily reached down with her hand to resume the slow caresses that he had interrupted earlier with his hunger for fresh pussy. She looked at him in the eyes, just like before holding his stare for a long time before kissing him, a slow languorous kiss that was by itself almost enough to make him come. When Jenn pulled out of the kiss, she smiled, and as her hand picked up the pace on his cock, she started whispering.

"You know what I'm doing while you're there fucking my mother in the ass like the sick little pervert that you are? You know what your darling fiancee is doing while you're nailing her mother's butt?" Jenn kissed him again, another slow-burning kiss. "I'm on my knees before Robert, and I've got his cock in my mouth, and I'm slowly sliding it down my throat. I've only got a small black thong on, and my pair of black fuck-me pumps. Robert's got his hands on my tits and he's squeezing them, and I'm sucking on his cock, slowly, reverently, making sure that he's getting the best blow job that a man can get. He's watching my mom -- his girlfriend -- getting fucked in the ass by this young stud, and I bet he's wondering whether I'd let him do me in the butt too, you know, like mother like daughter? And I'm thinking about it, about offering him my last virgin hole, letting him be the first man to stick his cock in my ass, to claim me in this primitive, demeaning way, and my blow job gets more frenzied and he's grabbing my hair and pulling my head down onto his cock forcefully and I'm gagging on every thrust now and there's drool flying all over the place and dripping down onto my tits and they're nice and slick now and I'm wondering whether he'd want to fuck them or what but before I can do anything he groans and pulls me down hard and his cock enters my throat and he's coming inside me and keeping me pressed against him and he's coming and coming and coming and I can't breathe anymore and then he lets me go and there are these long strands of cum stretching out from my lips and --"

Daniel could not take it any longer -- Jenn had been steadily increasing her pace on his cock, jacking him off to the rhythm of her story, and while he wanted the sensations to last forever he was getting dangerously close to coming fast and Jenn must have felt it because barely a few seconds before he unloaded everything he had she ducked her head down and without breaking stride plunged the tip of his cock into her mouth and ferociously sucked on the swollen head which almost instantly belched out a copious amount of cum that she swallowed in great gulps. When Daniel was spent he collapsed back on the bed, his breath ragged, his heart racing in his chest, while Jenn finished sucking off the last of his juice.

She righted herself up and pressed her back to Daniel's chest, cuddling up against him. He wrapped his arm around her, and felt sleep slamming into him like a ton of bricks.

"By the way," she said, her voice sleepy, "you know that if you ever put the moves on my mom, I'll personally slice off your dick with the cheese cutter, right?"

Daniel barely had the strength to nod before realizing that she could not see him. "Right," he mumbled. "Merry Christmas, love."

"Merry Christmas, lover."

And they slept the sleep of the just.

New Story: An Engaging Christmas (Part 1)

Merry Christmas to all of you that celebrate that holiday, and happy break from the responsibilities of life for those to which this applies anyways.

I suggested that I'd try for a little Christmas present in the form of a little story, and here it is, albeit a day late.

I give you part 1 of An Engaging Christmas, a little standalone story in The Adjusters universe, that takes place right after Book I, during the Christmas season. Part 2 will be posted tomorrow. This started out as a little scene that sprung up in the recesses of my mind earlier this month, and which blossomed to more than 7000 words by the time I was done with it.

Enjoy, as this is an exclusive to this web site. A way of thanking you for stopping by and reading my stories.



An Engaging Christmas

"So that's it, then. The last gift. Merry Christmas everyone. I just want to say thank you again for being here, with me. It's just so... it's just so special. And Daniel, you have no idea how wonderful it will be to have you as a son-in-law. I'm so happy for you and Jenn, I can't tell you enough."

And indeed, that had been the nearly constant refrain ever since Daniel and Jennifer -- newly engaged -- had arrived at Jenn's mother's house for the Christmas holidays a few days earlier. Jenn had told her mother the news of their engagement over the phone when she had called to make travel arrangements, meaning that Carole had been aware of the new development well before the couple showed up at her doorstep. But that advanced knowledge had not seemed to blunt her enthusiasm. Which was somewhat surprising, all things considered, given Carole's own romantic history. She had welcomed them with tears in her eyes when they drove up to her house in the outskirts of Portland, Maine, in their rental car

Daniel had known Carole -- Jenn's mother -- for the two years since he had started dating her daughter. That she did not live very far from their school was helpful in that regard. He liked her, a lot; it was clear where Jenn got her intelligence, common sense, warmth, and yes, her beauty. Carole had been cast from the same mold that would beget her daughter: beautiful, tall, thin, her body toned through a life of physical work spent growing organic vegetables and sculpting wood. Her age, rather than fade her looks, gave it character and a smoky charm. Jenn liked to say that she had an older sister rather than a mother. Carole had been barely twenty years old when Jenn was born, and having to raise Jenn essentially alone ensured that the two women had a close relationship. Jenn's father had left when she was seven, and Carole had made the conscious decision to focus on Jenn and her artistic career, taking the view that she would be receptive to love were it to land at her feet, but that she would not go and seek it out. Things had turned out well in the end -- Jenn had matured into a remarkable young woman, and Carole had made a name for herself in the small but select world of wood-working artists. Of course, she had had flings and affairs over the years, such a beautiful and self-assured woman being bound to attract the attention of the other, or even the same, sex. But there had been no serious relationship in her life since her failed marriage. Until now, that was. Until Robert.

"Mom, if you keep on saying that, you'll scare him away."

"I gotta go with Jenn on that one, dear. Give the poor boy a break," said Robert.

"Oh honey -- he can take it. He's a big strong boy. Besides, he knew what he was getting into by dating into this family. Which is more than can be said about you, frankly."

Daniel remained diplomatically silent, lying back on the floor, his back against one of the sofas, Jenn down next to him resting her head on his thigh, the remnants of the annual gift-giving feast strewn all around them. This year's festivities were intimate. The previous year, Daniel remembered, Carole had invited the extended family over to Maine, about twenty of them pressed together in a small house with at least three five-year olds running around like nitroglycerine on legs. This year, by tacit accord, it was only the four of them: Daniel and Jenn, Carole, of course, and Robert, Carole's new boyfriend.

Daniel glanced at him. Robert was in his early thirties, so about a decade older than Daniel, and a decade younger than Carole. With his longish brown hair and good looks and the trim physique of someone who regularly worked out but had no intention of growing bigger, he looked like a model. Which was unsurprising, since he was in fact a professional model, specializing in catalogue work. Unglamorous, but good pay, Robert had commented. In his spare time, he modeled for artists -- for drawing or painting classes, private studios, those sorts of things -- which is how Carole had met him. She had been fascinated by his expressiveness, and had asked him if he would be interested to pose for one of her sculptures. He had accepted, and after negotiating a price, had posed for five three-hours sessions. Carole had not gone into the details of exactly what happened on that last session, but Robert had ended up staying the night, and many more nights beside.

Jenn had teased her mother mercilessly about having kept the relationship a secret for eight months. Carole, in her defense, had claimed that to tell anyone might have jinxed the whole thing. It was just too perfect -- she was happy. Jenn had smiled before looking over at Daniel, saying she understood exactly what she meant.

And Carole indeed looked happy. She was cuddling up next to Robert, looking smashing in a short red dress, perfectly suited to the season. Robert was running his hand up her naked thigh, casually enough, and Daniel was reminded that Carole was indeed a beautiful and sexy woman. An opinion which Robert, if the looks he was giving her were anything to go by, shared completely.

"I think I knew exactly what I was getting into, dear," replied Robert before he leaned over to kiss her. Jenn did not even wait the requisite three seconds before uttering a "Yewww! Mom?!" that earned her a pillow in the face.

"You are not too old for a spanking, young lady!"

Daniel raised an eyebrow at the image that statement triggered. Jenn, who knew him way too well, looked up at him with a frown. "In your dreams, lover," she mouthed distinctly enough for him to read her lips. That earned her a kiss.

"That's right," mumbled Carole with humor, before standing up and smoothing down her dress. "So the kids can kiss, but the grown-ups are disgusting. That's the problem with the world nowadays. There's just no respect." She headed for the kitchen. "I'm going to make some tea. Anyone interested?"

Daniel and Jenn said no, Jenn pointing out that she was about to conk out anyways and that she was heading to bed herself. Robert stood up. "Sure, I'll have some," he said, and he followed Carole to the kitchen.

Jenn's head was still resting on Daniel's thigh, and he ran a hand lightly through her hair. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "I do feel like a kid," she said. "It's not even one and I can't stay awake."

"You've had a long day," Daniel replied.

"As long as yours," she said, yawning.

"Except that I didn't spend the day running around town with my mother taking care of last minute Christmas Eve details, did I? No, I just sat back and read most of the afternoon."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fine. But it was worth it. Nice to spend some time with mom."

"She looks happy. Is it just me, or is she almost behaving like a teen or something? I mean, she's been blushing on and off the whole evening, not completing her sentences. It's like --"

"She's in love, you idiot."

"Really?"

"Really. I haven't seen her like that before very often. She's happy and in love. And this was such a perfect evening too. The perfect Christmas Eve. I think it was important for her. That, and that we liked Robert."

"Well, I for one like him. He seems nice."

"He does."

"And he's clearly infatuated with your mom. Just the way he looks at her, it makes me feel like a voyeur."

"Isn't it, though?" Jenn smiled. "All kidding aside about before and their kissing, I think it's good for her to have a nice boy just drool over her like that. I mean, she'd dated all sort of guys over the years some of them pretty out and out losers, but none of them have looked at her quite the way Robert does. And she looks so happy she's practically glowing."

"Hey, perhaps she's pregnant? How'd you feel, getting a little half-sister or half-brother?" He pinched her cheek, as if she were a little girl. She flinched away, her eyes wide.

"Oh God! Don't say that! Last thing I need is a little toddler crawling about. Because you just know who'd be tagged for babysitting."

"Come on -- we'll be in Texas. She couldn't get you to come babysit from all the way down there, could she?"

"Ha! You don't know my mother. She'd figure something out." She settled back down against his thigh, and closed her eyes.

He ran his hand down her hair once more, softly, slowly. "You'd make a wonderful big sister, love," he whispered.

Jenn did not bother responding. Her breath slowly turned regular, and she slept for half a minute before her eyes jerked open. "Woha -- okay, I'm done for. Time for bed."

She sat up, stretching like a cat. Daniel took advantage of the motion to admire her dancer's body, and was taken by the sudden urge to run his hands up her legs and under her skirt and attack the warm and welcoming nest hidden up between her legs, picturing her on her back with her legs spread and beckoning him to come and lick her pussy lips up and down until she came all over his face. He shook his head to clear the vision.

"Sounds good," he replied, his voice not quite as even as he would have liked. "Huh, you want anything from the kitchen? Hot coco?"

Jenn stretched some more. "Mmmm. No, not coco. I'd love some warm milk with vanilla though. If you don't mind..."

"Coming right up," he replied.

"What would I ever do without you?" She stepped up to him and put her arms around his neck, her face mere inches from his.

"You'd eventually learn how to warm up milk without making it spill over, for one."

"Sure. Or I'd use the microwave." She drew her lips closer.

"Bah, humbug. I'm a Luddite, you know that."

"And my favorite Luddite, at that." She kissed him, a soft caress of the lips that led to her tongue sneaking its way between his own lips, seeking warmth and tenderness. They kissed holding each other close, for a long time which just seemed to fly by.

Jenn laughed softly when she saw the effect that the kiss had had on him, both in the somewhat dazed look he undoubtedly must have been sporting, and the unmistakable tent in his jeans.

"I'm off to bed. Don't be too long," she said over her shoulder as she went down the hall towards the stairs. Daniel watched her go, his eyes fastened on her rear end swaying gently with each step.

His mind still full of the sight and feel and taste of his fiancee, Daniel made for the kitchen. Pushing the saloon-style white doors, he was greeted by a mad scramble as a short-breathing Carole quickly pushed away from Robert -- who was casually turning around and reached down to fasten his pants and buckle his belt -- while at the same time trying to push her dress down, but not so quickly that Daniel did not have time to see a long expanse of thigh and a pair of skimpy white panties that would not have been out of place on her twenty years old daughter's more racy friends.

"Huh -- Daniel -- Oh... Robert... Well, Robert and I were just... huh --"

Was she actually blushing? It was so endearing, though Daniel. "Boiling some water, yes, you said you'd do that," he completed. He opened the refrigerator door and bent down to pick up two small water bottles. Robert had finished straightening himself out, but his erection was still clearly visible. It must have been some kiss, thought Daniel. He pictured Carole sliding her small but strong sculptress's hand down into Robert's pants and roughly playing with the hard cock and thoroughly massaging the head, and his own cock twitched in sympathetic response. It was an appealing visual, especially with someone as beautiful as Carole taking center stage.

And that she was hurriedly rearranging her short dress which had ridden up her thighs did no help matters. She was still blushing, although the bright red had simmered down to a pinkish hue, and she looked for all the world like a teenager caught with her hand down her boyfriend's pants.

Daniel tried very hard to keep his face neutral as he picked up the water, and decided to forego the warm milk for Jenn. He saw Carole about the stammer something, possibly an apology, and he preempted her.

"Jenn and I are calling it a night. We're pooped. It was a wonderful evening, thank you. Good night you two, and see you tomorrow morning -- or tomorrow afternoon, more likely."

"Night Daniel," said Robert, having recovered his composure.

"Night. And sweet dreams," added Carole, in an almost whispered tone. Daniel was surprised at her self-consciousness, a side of her he had never seen before. Jenn was right -- this was love, or at least serious. Good, he thought. She deserved someone nice to spend time with. And if he got her motor running, so much the better.

None of which kept him from throwing his little dig as he left the kitchen. "Don't do anything Jenn and I wouldn't do!" He almost convinced himself he could feel Carole's blush in response, but did not bother to look back for confirmation.

* * *

It was a finger past three in the morning when Daniel woke up, so barely two hours after having collapsed next to his fiancee in the small guest bedroom that was saved for them whenever they visited Jenn's mother.

Groggily, he got out of bed, unsure as to what woke him up exactly, but willing to take advantage of the opportunity. The house was silent, aside from the creaking of the old wood and the intermittent howls from the winter wind outside.

"Bathroom," he whispered in reply to Jenn's mumbled query as to where he was going. Clearly satisfied with his answer, she turned over onto her back, one arm above her head and across the pillow. The covers were down to her waist, revealing one of her long white tee shirts she liked sleeping in. This one had the iconic Che Guevara image on it, except Che was wearing a Roman legionnaire's helmet and "Che Vadis?" was written in ancient script just below.

The bathroom trip was utterly uneventful despite the unfamiliarity of the surroundings and his desire to avoid turning any lights on. It was a good thing that Carole believed in a minimalist decorative style, so that he did not need to navigate obscure obstacles.

No, the trip to was uneventful. It was the trip from that was more interesting. There was a noise coming from the end of the hallway, one that his sleep-addled mind could not identify. An irregular noise, a kind of muffled thumping, undoubtedly what had woken him up in the first place.

Before he could think twice about it, he had moved down the hallway towards the source of the sound, bent on identifying it for no other reason that he could not think of anything else to do. And when he peeked inside the last room, having narrowed it down to that location, it was too late.

The door was a third of the way open, and there was enough moonlight streaming in from the window to recognize the master bedroom. And the sound of the noise, now that Daniel had the right context to place it in, was easily seen to be the headboard hitting the wall -- it was a padded headboard, accounting for the muffled thumping. And the headboard was banging the wall, naturally enough, because the two figures on the bed were going at it, if not frantically, then certainly building up to frantically. Robert was lying on top of Carole, and while the sheet covering them both gave only an outline of the shape of the two bodies, it did a good job outlining Carole with her legs spread wide and jackknifed so that her knees were almost up to her shoulders. Robert was thrusting with alternating soft and strong twists of the hips. Carole's face was a study in pleasure, eyes closed, mouth open, at best a slight flinch every time Robert bottomed out, her arms crossed behind his neck, not quite holding on but keeping him close. From his angle, Daniel could not see Robert's face, but its position suggested he was looking straight at Carole.

In the now complete silence, Daniel could hear the small moans of Carole upon every thrust, moans that shifted to little cries as Robert's rhythm picked up. Daniel was getting ready to step back and go back to bed and leave the couple to their rutting privacy, when Robert suddenly stopped and straightened himself up to his knees, throwing the sheet off and revealing Carol's body in the moonlight to great advantage. The part of Daniel's mind that was not wholly occupied with worrying about Robert having heard him and being caught peeping noted with almost clinical interest that Carole's body was as nice as her daughter's -- somewhat rounder, but also curvy, soft, and welcoming. Her breasts had the same shape, with just a bit more heft. If this suggested in any way how Jenn would age, then he had nothing to complain about, and in fact this probably meant that he would have to work hard himself to grow old as gracefully.

But then Robert spoke, softly so that he would have been unheard had Daniel not been standing by their bedroom door. "So what got you so hot to trot tonight, dear? You're practically coming all by yourself."

Carole, who had seemed as surprised by Robert's stopping as Daniel had been, grabbed her lover by the hips and thrust her pelvis into him, seeking to push the hard cock back deep inside her. "Just horny, that's all. Keep fucking me, dammit!"

Robert obliged, remaining straight, giving her a good three or four deep thrusts that made her gasp loudly before he stopped once more, leaving his cock embedded inside her.

"No, it's not just that. I've seen you horny before, dear, and this is different. You're shaking with lust, and you practically swallowed my dick whole earlier, and you only do that when your kinky is tickled."

"Oh, you know so much about me, don't you?"

"Yes, actually. And you know what? I think it's that boy being here that got you all hot and bothered. Isn't it? Having that little twenty year old in your house's making your old pussy tingle and itch?"

"Shut up, Bob! You're just fucking around now -- stop it and fuck me, damn you!"

"Right -- I'm just fucking around. That's why your pussy's squeezing me like mad, isn't it? Just the thought of that kid between your legs is making you cream, doesn't it? Do you think he's aware that his fiancee's mother would like nothing better than to spread her legs for him? Maybe give him one of her world-class blow jobs? Or maybe a little threesome, a little mother-daughter action?"

"Bob, you're being disgusting now. I don't --"

"Bull. Bull, bull, and shit. I can feel your pussy squeezing me like crazy when I say that. That's cause you're imagining it, right? Don't deny it, you'd like nothing better than to have him here instead of me, doing this, right?" And he thrust into her again, a hard thrust that sent the headboard thumping into the wall, and drawing a yelp out of Carole that morphed into a low moan as Robert thrust a few more times.

"Fuck, you bastard, just fuck me like this and don't stop --"

Daniel could feel Robert smile. "You're a little slut, aren't you, dear? Look at you, all hot and bothered thinking about that young stud fucking you. Bet you anything he was thinking about trussing up your little dress over your butt earlier and squeeze your cheeks before shoving his dick into you from behind down there in the kitchen."

Daniel feared that Carole would smack Robert and kick him out. Daniel was figuring out how to break the sad news to his fiancee when to his astonishment Carole moaned louder, eyes closed, and pulled Robert down on top of her, clinging to his neck, wrapping her long legs around his waist.

"That's right -- you like the idea, him taking you from behind like a little slut in heat, staring at your butt as he plows into you, reaching down to grab one of your big boobs and squeezing it hard, don't you?" Robert's thrusts were getting more forceful, and the thumping of the headboard on the wall more rhythmic. The springs of the bed were starting to join the chorus, threatening to drown Carole's grunts.

"Tell me," said Robert, looking at Carole, "tell me that you dressed up like you did -- that little dress whose only purpose is to call attention to your legs and your butt and just advertise 'here I am, come take me, I'm just a whore' -- just to entice him, to tease him, to make him want to fuck you, to make him think of you when he's in there fucking your daughter." Carole moaned louder at that, and Daniel, from his position behind the door, could practically feel Robert's triumphant smile.

"Ah! Look at that, your little pussy's spasming like crazy! You're going to come, aren't you? You're going to come thinking that he's fantasizing about you when he's fucking your own daughter. Maybe he's going to ask her to get on all four so he can better imagine he's fucking you instead, that you're the one offering herself to him, telling him to do whatever he wants with you. Tell me," he said, louder, "tell me you'd like to feel his dick ripping you open and spewing up all over your body, your boobs, your face. Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!" Robert punctuated every statement with a Herculean shove that would have sent Carole into the headboard were it not for her holding on to him for dear life, muttering something sounding like a litany of "fuck, fuck, fuck," under her breath.

"Tell me!" ordered Robert, out of breath.

"Yes!" almost screamed Carole, grabbing onto his neck even more tightly, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him closer and practically rubbing herself off against his body. "Yes! Yes! Yes -- I want to fuckin' feel him enter me, take me, possess me, claim me, okay? I want him to make me kneel before him and grab my head and tell me to suck him, okay? I want him to grab my head and fuck my mouth and shove his cock down my throat until I gag and choke, okay? I want him to use me however he wants, to treat me like a fuck doll, a fuck toy, a bunch of holes to be filled with his cock over and over and over again, okay? Like a slut mother who'd do anything to feel his young hard cock split her open like a bun, okay? Is that what you want to hear? That I want to seduce him and fuck him and eat him up? Now fuck me, you bastard! Fuck me! I'm close! Yes! I'm so close!"

And then Robert just stopped. He straightened up once more, and this time completely pulled out of Carole and she moaned in despair as his cock slipped out. Uh oh, thought Daniel, that did it. He's pissed. Carole's outburst, the whole scene in fact, had turned Daniel on -- how could it not, it was hot and the way Carole moved was sex personified -- and while he had played enough games of that exact same kind with Jenn to recognize that Carole was just indulging in a bit of harmless fantasizing, he feared that Robert might have taken it at much more of a face value. Daniel prepared to make himself scarce and beat a hasty retreat to his bedroom.

Bur Robert was not angry. In fact, he sounded like he was smiling still. "So the truth comes out. And what do you think should happen to mothers who want to seduce their daughter's future husband, mmm? What do you think?"

Carole was trying to shift her hips to recapture Robert's cock, but Robert kept her at bay.

"We fuck them, dammit -- and make them come!"

"No, no, no. We punish them. Because it's wrong, you see."

"Fuck you," grunted Carole.

"You wish. Now turn around. If you want me to make you come, you'll present me yourself to me. Now."

"If I want to come, I can do it myself, you bastard." She slid her hand between her legs, and started rubbing herself off with short jerky movements.

"Sure," replied Robert, still smiling. "but it's not going to be half as good as if I shove this into you from behind, nice and deep, just the way you like it, don't you agree, dear? It's up to you, really, but if you want this, you'll have to be punished for being a little whore of a mother."

Carole shuddered at the thought, and opened her eyes and stared at Robert, still caressing herself, while Robert just stared back silently. Daniel realized with a flash of insight that he was seeing a game that had been played several times before. Every couple had their kinky side, didn't they?

Without a word, Carole turned on her stomach, and then slowly lifted herself up, thrusting her ass up, keeping her head down onto the pillow. Daniel had to admit that Robert had been correct in his description -- Carole had a beautiful ass, round and tight and giving her daughter's own rump a run for its money.

"Ready to be punished, little slut? Ready to be punished for wanting to seduce your son-in-law, your daughter's man? Go ahead, tell me, tell me you need to be punished, tell me you deserve to be punished. Go on. Tell me."

"You bastard," groaned Carole.

"Insult me as much as you want, dear, but you're not going to get fucked until you get punished, and you're not going to get punished until you tell me you deserve to be punished for being a whore that cannot keep her legs together when her daughter's fiancee's around. Simple, simple, simple."

Carole groaned again, saying nothing, but the situation was getting to her, if the slight swaying of her ass left and right was any indication.

"Yes?" said Robert, still smiling.

Carole grunted, then sighed. "Please..."

"Yes?"

"Please punish me," she said, "I deserve it."

"Why do you deserve it, dear?"

"Because..." She took a deep breath. "Because I fantasize about getting Daniel's big cock inside me, because I want him to fuck me, use me, choke me up and fill me up until I burst. Because I'm a slut who's trying to get my daughter's fiancee to do me -- ow!"

Robert has smacked Carole's ass during her monologue, the slap resounding in the quiet of the night and making Daniel jump.

Robert gave Carole some time to recover from her surprise, then smacked her ass again, palm open, with force. Daniel saw, fascinated, her cheeks shake under the blow, and almost could see the palm print it left behind. Carole moaned and thrust her ass up, making an even more appealing target.

"Look at you," said Robert, giving Carole another resounding smack. "Pushing your bottom out like you're enjoying this. This is supposed to be your punishment, you little slut, for getting wet at the thought of your daughter's boyfriend fucking you silly. Can you imagine what he'd say if he saw you like that on your hands and knees getting spanked on your naked bottom?" He smacked her again, then ran his hand between her legs and over her crotch, making Carole groan and spread her legs out and shifting her pelvis back. Robert pulled his hand out and smacked her again. "Jesus, you're dripping wet! If Daniel'd get his dick anywhere near that pussy of yours you'd just slurp it up and smother it with your slut mother's juices, wouldn't you? You're even more sick and depraved than I thought you were -- you're a dripping slutty whore!" And he smacked her again, twice, harder, sending Carole into her pillow. She yelped in surprise and maybe even pain -- Daniel could not tell -- but just as soon thrust her ass up again and shook it.

"Fuck yes, harder!" she moaned. "Come on, yes, yes you're right! I'm a fucking degenerate whore who wants to fuck her daughter's man, fuck him until I cannot walk anymore! I want to make him forget my own daughter, show him how much better I am than she is, how much more sluttier I can be, how much more hungry --"

Robert slapped her ass again, three times, in quick succession. "Fuck yes!" groaned Carole. "Harder! You bastard! Slap me or fuck me or do anything you fucking want but make me come, dammit! Fuck!"

Robert grinned, then slapped her hard once more before reaching between her legs and as near as Daniel could tell shoving a couple of fingers into her from behind, hard, pushing Carole down into the bed.

"Fuck yes! Fuck me -- fuck me! Fuck!" She was practically screaming at this point, and Daniel wondered if Jenn could hear it, and if so what she would think. "Fuck! Fuck! Deeper, you bastard! Come on! Fuck me, Daniel, fuck me! Shove that big cock inside deep, deep, fuck, fuck!" She was pushing her ass back against Robert's hand, who put his other hand on his girlfriend's back to maintain his grip.

"Fuck me," continued Carole, unaware of anything but her own overwhelming feelings, "just fuck me with that cock of yours. Go on, you bastard, pretend you're Daniel and fuck me like the shameless slut I am!"

Robert pulled his hand out and, positioning himself behind Carole and jerking a few times on his hard shaft lined it up against her and pushed and sank in in one long thrust that elicited a groan from the practically shaking woman.

"Fuck yes! Fuck me Daniel! Shove it in me, shove your cock inside and fuck me like you mean it -- come on, Daniel, fuck me! Use me! Use meeeee!" She wailed, not caring who else might be hearing. Robert was not much more discreet.

"Take it, you slut! I'm your son-in-law and I'm fucking your slutty mom's hole from behind like the fucking slut you are. Take it, you slut!"

They were writhing on the bed, sending the headboard to play its Central African drum beat on the wall, and Daniel decided that this was the right time to leave the grown-ups to their privacy. He felt moderately guilty about what he had done, but he could do nothing about it any longer.

New Story: The Adjusters #11

And this being the first weekend of December, we start Book II of The Adjusters: The Greek Fiasco.

THE STORY SO FAR: Daniel Malcolm, college student, has had an interesting Fall semester: he has helped his journalist friend Serena investigate the disappearance of fellow student Marjorie, escaped the demented idea of fun of a neonazi organization with his friend Radhu, and uncovered some odd connections between those events and the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity. He also found the time to explore the kinkier side of his relationship with his girlfriend Jennifer, who is now his fiancee. Oh, and Serena did eventually find Marjorie, but that discovery came at a rather steep price.

The first episode, "DIK Girls", serves as Prologue.

As usual, comments welcome.


11 - DIK Girls

Early January was unbelievably mild on the campus of Darnell University, the winter having proved to be much warmer than expected. Not only had snow not yet fallen, it was by common understanding light jacket weather. All of which was a pleasant surprise for students coming back from winter break. With classes three days away, everyone was throwing last-minute parties in between scrambling with course registrations, deciphering administrative minutiae, and fighting with University Housing.

At the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity, two young men were stepping into the late morning sun. Jackson Randall, freshman, and Bernard "Bernie" Tilling, junior. Aside from both wearing their frat jackets, they could not have been more different. Jackson, tall and athletic, and Bernie, short and stout, with spectacles giving him an odd intellectual look.

"Okay, Jackson, you've been a brother for a semester now, and the fraternity voted over the break to accept you as a full member. You now have access to all the perks that such a position entails. You know what I'm talking about, right?"

"The dick girls."

"Indeed, the dick girls. Although we try to call them frat girls, or Delta Iota Kappa girls. Seems like the term dick girls has some unfortunate connotations for some people. What do you know about those dick girls?"

Jackson shook his head, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets to keep them warm. It was mild weather, but being born and raised in Florida had a tendency to give you a biased view of any temperature that did not allow you to walk about in swimming trunks. "Not much. Just what a bunch of half-drunk brothers let out at a party before Christmas. Something about a bunch of girls with a special arrangement with us, some kind of deal the prez made to get them to hook up with us with no strings attached or something?"

Bernie nodded. "Not bad, not bad. I mean, pretty off the mark, but you're roughly in the ball park."


Continue reading...

Update, and a Story by Baphomet

Well, all that hoopla only for a minor layout and font change on this blog. Still, I like it better. White on red still tends to make my eyes bleed, but I cannot find anything I like better either.

I'll be starting to post Book II of The Adjusters later this week, going back to our monthly cycle. I've been steadily working on the first half-dozen episodes for the past month, and I just finished drafting #16 this afternoon, in a mad dash to jot down the scene that came fully formed in my head upon waking this morning. Book II is the most tightly plotted piece of fiction I ever tried to write, and we'll see how well that turns out.

I'll leave you with a piece of smut that I ran across earlier this weekend and that I really enjoyed. Nothing fancy, but eminently enjoyable. It's The Landlord by Baphomet. Here's the first few paragraphs of Chapter 1:

Jenny was a cute little thing. Twenty-five years old, petite and
brunette, she had the biggest brownest doe eyes. She was absolutely
irrestable when she batted them at you. I found it hard, sometimes
impossible, to say no when she looked at me with those beautiful eyes and
pleaded for something.

I guess that's why I rented one of my apartments to her against my
better judgement. A single waitressing mom with a 10-year-old daughter
didn't strike me as someone who could afford to rent a flat in the city.

But she wooed me with those big brown eyes. Plus, she paid in cash, up
front: first month's rent, last month's rent and the security deposit.

I should have realized that tips were good in the summer, in the
middle of the tourist season, but things would change as the days grew
shorter.

I remember the day she came to look at the apartment. She was still
dressed in her sexy waitress outfit (or as she called it, her *sexist*
waitress outfit). Her boss obviously knew that sex sells and only hired
young petite girls and dressed them up in tight uniforms with low necklines
and high hemlines.

Continue reading...

Stories Repositories

Okay, so maybe, maybe I'll stay on BlogSpot for a while longer. But I'm going to have to change the layout of the blog, because it's really getting on my nerves. So expect at least some cosmetic changes in the next few weeks. Not especially looking forward to the CSS hacking involved though. Yuck.

Meanwhile, one of the things I wanted to do with this blog, aside from publishing my stories, was to showcase and provide link to the good smut (at least good in my opinion) that is out there. There's a lot of written smut available online, but finding the good stuff is hard. For instance, to find the classics, one either has to know about them, or hang out around forums enough to get initiated. So if I can somehow spread the joy in my own little way, I'll be happy. I've been collecting links to interesting stories on Delicious, but the result has been somewhat messy. Probably because I haven't gotten around to tagging everything consistently.

The first thing to know about, of course, are the large repositories of written smut that are out there, and that hold the vast majority of good material. Some are general content, others cater to more specialized interest.

Literotica is one of the oldest repositories around, and many writers of more mainstream erotica have actually started there. There's still plenty of good stories on the site. The interface is somewhat baroque, unfortunately, although it has gotten better recently, linking the different chapters of the same story, and also providing a little recommendation system assigning to every story a 'you may also like' list of other related stories -- it's hit and miss, but a nice try.)

ASSTR is the grand-daddy of all stories repositories. It was initially started as an FTP site to archive the stories posted on the USENET newsgroups alt.sex.stories and alt.sex.stories.moderated. It holds a lot of stories, many of them a few decades old at this point. Aside from allowing authors to host their stories, it also has evolved into hosting a set of disjoint repositories maintained by various people, which they call collections. It is definitely worth exploring. One of my favorite collections on the site is Ol' Joe's, which collects most of the classic stories. Another interesting repository on ASSTR is of course the EMCSA -- the Erotic Mind Control Story Archive -- the go-to place for mind-control stories.

Storiesonline (SOL) is a recent favorite of mine. It contains a lot of good material, and it has a very nice interface. The site does require registration, but you can get a free account that lets you read up to seven stories per day. Paying gets you a higher reading limit (one hundred stories per day), but most importantly it gives you the ability to maintain a library of bookmarked stories, including a watch list for ongoing series. I highly recommend you check it out. There are a couple of authors that publish exclusively on SOL that I'll spotlight in the coming weeks.

If you're into the slightly edgier stuff, then the BSDM Library is the place for you. Its content is wildly unequal: some very good stories, some abysmal stories. There's exceedingly extreme material on there too, so be warned. Also, the interface will make your eyes bleed -- although given the theme of the site that may in fact be intentional. There are a couple of authors on the site that are personal favorites of mine and that I'll spotlight in the coming weeks.

Somewhat related to the BDSM Library, but with a quality filter, is Dijan's Understories. Many of the stories on Dijan's site can be found elsewhere, but they are collected together by theme on this site: blackmail, mind control, rough fantasies, humiliations. Not for the faint of heart.

Some repositories of stories are just fun to browse. For instance, the Television Sex Stories Archive, which archives erotic fan fiction pieces featuring your favorite TV characters. Quality varies, generally hovering towards the low end of the scale, but if that's your kick, this is where most of what's produced ends up.

Somewhat more mainstream is the xNovel site that pertains to archive " ...adult novels from defunct publishers such as Greenleaf Classics, Liverpool Library, Beeline Novels and Heatherpool Press -- for free!" There's a lot of excellent stuff in there, although after a while it feels much more formulaic than the really amateur productions. As an aside, there was this "author", called himself TheEditor, back in the USENET days, that would post what I presume were text conversions of published novels, among other things. You can find the stuff on ASSTR, just search for "TheEditor". They used to always have a quote at the beginning along the lines of "I am not the author. I don't have the talent. I can only be the "TheEditor", which I always thought was a nice touch.

There are many others sites, of course, for more specialized fetishes. Breast augmentation fetishes, or big cock fetishes, or miniaturization fetishes are three that come to mind.

How about you? Where do you go to find your smut? Let me know your favorites in the comments, and we'll check them out.

November Hiatus

Hi folks. The Adjusters is on hiatus for November. I apologize profusely for not warning you in advance, and beg your indulgence.

(Why, you may ask? First, NaNoWriMo is on, and that is sucking up my writing time. Second, because I'm contemplating moving this blog back to ASSTR for I'm starting to greatly dislike WordPress BlogSpot. It's fine when posting straight text, but annotated text or text where you want precise control over the layout, bleh. I'll play with it some more, but I may redirect you all back there before the end of the month. Stay tuned.)

Back to The Adjusters. Book I is over: Daniel & Jennifer are engaged, and Serena found Marjorie, although there was a steep price to pay for it. And now we're about to jump into Book II -- The Greek Fiasco -- where most of the balls tossed in the air in Book I are going to come crashing down. Looks like a solid 12 chapters at least for that part of the story, about six of which are already written.

New Story: The Adjusters #10

Holy overwhelmedness, Batman! My apologies for publishing this month's episode so late, but I found myself having no time to transfer my edits to my word processor until last night.

Without further ado, here is October's episode of The Adjusters, "Whatever Did Happen to Marjorie?", wherein we learn the fate of Marjorie, and a few things more.

As usual, comments welcome.


10 - Whatever Did Happen To Marjorie?

Daniel was early, and had elected to wait for Jenn at the restaurant
bar, which was still empty. Nothing surprising there, since the
restaurant was one of the small town's very good -- and very expensive
-- places that in the main catered to parents. This was where you
brought your well-off parents when they came to visit. The restaurant
was therefore exceedingly busy in early January, at the beginning of
spring, and in late May, when visits were most common. The rest of the
year, it was exceedingly quiet.

And so it was tonight, in the middle of December. Because it was
Saturday, Daniel was not actually alone in the restaurant, but there
could not have been more than a dozen other people. The restaurant
staff had had the insight of drawing thick burgundy drape across the
dining room, cutting it in half and achieving a sense of intimacy.

Daniel adjusted his tie and tugged on his jacket, not used to the feel
of a suit. He felt vaguely ridiculous, like he was playing
dress-up. The evening warranted some discomfort, however, first
because of the importance of the conversation that would occur -- it
had been three weeks now that Jenn had told him about getting the
Blumberry, and they both had had time to think and reflect about the
future they wanted -- and second because it had been too long since he
and Jenn had gone out like grown-ups, as Serena liked to call it.

Perhaps it was his thinking of their friend, via some cosmic
synchronicity, but Daniel's cell phone rang at that moment, and he saw
Serena's name flash on the screen. He answered.

"Hey Serena, how goes it?"

"Pretty great, actually." He could hear traffic noises in the
background. "That Snowman guy, the one that got in touch with Lake for
drugs and that arranged for Marjorie to go see Lake --"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, you may also remember that I called him earlier this week,
saying that I was interested in hiring Marjorie -- MD -- for a gig,
and he just called me back, and he said sure and to come to The
Spirited Flesh, where MD is scheduled to dance tonight so I can have a
look at her and we can discuss business. I'm headed there now. Do you
want to come with?"

"Sorry, can't. I'm waiting for Jenn at Da Maurizio. We're having this
big dinner date..."

"Oh, right, right. It's tonight."

Daniel could hear the disappointment in her voice. "Can you call
Radhu?"

"He's still too out of it to leave his dorm room. No, I guess I'll go
alone. It's okay, I'll keep you informed, all right? At least I got my
pepper spray with me. You know, in case Mister Snowman gets fresh? And
Daniel -- good luck for tonight. Daniel? Are you still there?"

He was, but only physically. His arm was still holding the phone, but
it hung limply by his side. His eyes, and those of the whole male
contingent in the restaurant, were riveted on the vision of pure
loveliness that was currently strolling across the room towards
him. It was Jenn, of course, resplendent in a dark red evening gown
that hugged her body like a glove, baring just the merest hint of
cleavage but exposing her shoulders and sleek arms, and below flaring
slightly at the hips and continuing down to just below her knees. A
scarf, nylons, and a pair of spike heels completed the picture. The
click-clack of those heels on the floor grew louder in the sudden
silence, and Daniel remained motionless at his girlfriend's approach.

"Your mouth is open," she said, after stopping right in front of
him. She seemed pleased with herself.

"Huh..."

Jenn reached up with a hand, and gently pushed on his chin, closing
his mouth. "There, much better. You look less goofy now."

"Huh... right... I mean... wow. You look... wow..."

She laughed. "That's my native English speaker! Thank you. And may I
say, you look quite dashing yourself. Shall we sit? And why are you
holding your phone?"

"What phone? Oh, right. Serena." He lifted the phone to his ear, eyes
not leaving Jenn's. "Listen, I gotta go. Be careful, okay?"

Jenn had gotten closer to Daniel, and her mouth was near the
phone. "Bye Serena," she tossed in.

Serena laughed at the other end. "Okay, go, you two, and have
fun. I'll call you later."

Jenn never gave Daniel time to answer, tilting her head a fraction to
the right and give him a slow languorous lick on the lips, her eyes
looking deep into his. Arousal shot through him like electricity.

"I believe we have a seat waiting for us?" she said, after giving him
several seconds to recover.

He nodded, then shook his head as if to clear it. "Yes. We do. And I
think that's our waiter right there waiting for us."

A waiter was indeed waiting for them, and showed them to their
table. He held the chair for Jenn, and took advantage of it to steal a
surreptitious glance down her cleavage and, Daniel had the sneaking
suspicion, would have happily stolen a look at her thighs had she
pulled her dress up to sit. Daniel was in too jovial a mood to mind,
and Jenn seemed her usual oblivious self.

They ordered some wine, and the waiter left them to ponder the menu.


* * *


Meanwhile, Serena was coming within sight of The Spirited Flesh. She
was alone. She had determined that she would be safe enough, banking
on the fact that it was Saturday night and that the strip club would
be full.

The outside of the club had not changed since the last time she was
there with Daniel and Radhu, when they had come here upon learning
that Marjorie would be on stage, already more than a month ago. A
group of young men were mingling about, leaning against the wall of
the building and smoking and ogling every girl that walked by. They
spotted Serena immediately, and hooted when they saw her headed for
the club's door. Serena gave them a look that only seemed to egg them
on.

"Hey there, pretty lady! You gonna dance tonight? Wouldn't mind seeing
those bags of yours bounce around! Perhaps you and I can meet in the
back and I can show you what a white dick can do?" The man grabbed his
crotch while his buddies laughing drunkenly.

Serena elected for simply arching an eyebrow, and opened the door to
the club. The bouncer looked at her, giving her the once over, then
let her in after taking her money.

Inside, everything was as she remembered it, albeit more crowded. Few
seats were available -- but Serena had no interest in sitting down
anyways. On stage, a couple of blonde dancers with large artificial
breasts were kissing, hands rubbing each other's almost naked
bodies. Half the patrons were watching the show, the others busy
chatting or negotiating for lap dances. The evening was still early.

Serena flagged the man working the bar.

"You have anyone around named Snowman?"

The barman gave her a distracted look. "Not that I know of."

"You sure? Serena's asking. Snowman must have mentioned he was
expecting me."

The barman looked at her for five long seconds. "Snowman told me to
tell you to meet him in the back. Room nine."

Serena turned to the back of the club. "And how do I...?"

The barman pointed to a pair of red doors. He signaled to a large man
standing beside them, then pointed to Serena. The large man nodded
once.

"Thanks," said Serena.

She was excited, the thought of confronting someone that at least
could give her some concrete information about Marjorie, perhaps even
where to find the poor girl, made her heart race. Calm down, girl, she
told herself -- he may not even want to talk to you. She had no plan
to speak of. Too many unknowns. But Snowman was a man, and unless he
was gay, that gave her a slight advantage. She unfastened a few
buttons of her shirt, and pressed her breasts upwards to produce more
cleavage. She did not particularly relish the thought of having to
seduce him, but she really had nothing else with which to exert
leverage. They said all was fair in love and war -- that went double
for journalism and searching for friends.

The man guarding the double doors let her through, after staring her
down and letting his eyes slide down to her chest, following the swell
of her breasts. Serena did not rise to the bait -- her goal was
Snowman, and she would not let herself get distracted. She stepped
through the doors.

The noise from the club immediately dropped to a background buzz. She
was in a carpeted hallway leading to a T-junction perhaps a hundred
feet ahead. It reminded her of a generic hotel floor, with doors down
the corridor, every one of them closed and numbered. As she walked
down looking for room nine, a couple emerged from one of the rooms,
the man looking like a used-cars salesman complete with rumpled suit
and questionable tie, and the girl hanging on his arm -- either a
stripper here at the club or a date with atrocious fashion sense --
wearing a bikini and platform plastic heels, blonde hair straight out
of a bottle. She looked tired.

When they crossed her path, heading for the door, Serena nodded to the
girl, who dismissed Serena with a defiant glance. Serena was surprised
by the reaction, and then she asked herself how she would have reacted
had the roles been reversed. Had the girl read pity in Serena's eyes?
She decided on the spot to pitch a story about the strippers here at
the club to her editor. That should get the guy's interest.

She felt the man's eyes on her backside after passing the couple, and
shook her head. She'd need a good shower after this, she thought. One
figured that after spending all of one's time with horny college
students one would get inured to such treatment, but for all their
crassness, the college students she hung out with tended to inject a
sense of levity and fun in their sexism and machismo, something
utterly missing from this environment. Here, despite the fancy
surroundings and the upbeat music and the bright colors, despair and
hopelessness clung to everything.

She slid a hand in her purse when she reached the door marked nine,
and kept it on her pepper spray bottle. She knocked then opened the
door.

The small room was poorly lit, and held only a cushioned chair in its
center, obviously intended for private lap dances. Serena had almost
expected a cot in the corner for quickies. Then again, the carpeting
was thick enough that it probably served as a reasonable alternative.

There was a young man sitting in the chair, about eighteen years of
age, with short hair and a good physique. He kept tapping his foot and
looking around nervously. He trained his eyes on her as soon as she
entered the room. "Serena?"

"Who's asking?" She remained by the door, looking around.

"Come in. We may need some privacy for this."

"We'll see. You Snowman?"

He nodded. He still looked nervous. "I am. You're here about MD,
right? You asked about her availability?"

Serena stepped into the room. Finally, some answers. "I am. I'm
looking for entertainment for a party, and I've heard she's very very
good. You... I'm sorry -- you just weren't who I was expecting."
Snowman had sounded older on the phone.

"Well, there's a reason for that."

Before Serena could ponder that answer, a pair of strong arms grabbed
her from behind, pinning her own arms down. By reflex, she kicked back
with her foot and the heel of her boot sank into a shin, and she was
rewarded with a scream of pain from the man behind her. She bolted as
soon as she felt the arms letting her go, and was at the door before
the young man in the chair had time to react. The door was
locked. Before she could turn around, she was grabbed again, and a wet
cloth was pressed against her face. She tried to shout, but the
pungent smell made the world spin once, then twice, and then
everything went dark.


* * *


"So here we are," said Jenn. They had finished their meal, and had
ordered desert. By some unspoken understanding, they both recognized
it was time to talk.

"Here we are indeed," replied Daniel. He cleared his throat. "I'll
start. First off, let me just say that the last month has been utterly
mind-bogglingly fantastic. If your plan was to hook me more deeply, it
worked like a charm. If the last month is a preview of what life is
going to be like, then I'd be a moron to pass it up. And that's even
if I weren't crazy in love with you."

Jenn grinned, and sipped her wine. Daniel continued.

"And that's the point, really. Everything else is academic. I love
you, Jennifer Hansen, and I can't bear the thought of being away from
you. And I know that the Blumberry is like a dream coming true, and I
don't want to be the reason that you don't get a shot at that
dream. So I say: onto Austin."

Jenn shook her head. "I love you too, my sweet little romantic. And I
also want to see you happy, and if passing up on the scholarship and
staying in the northeast is what it takes, I'll happily do it with no
second thought. On the plus side, it would give me a chance to write
that Great American Novel. I'm already accumulating a few ideas. By
the way, can the Great American Novel be erotica?"

"All right, then. So we're pretty much where we were a month
ago. Great. It's a good thing I got this job offer from this place
spitting distance from Austin then, to do the kind of thing I want to
try doing. That'll save us some painful back and forth."

"What?"

It was Daniel's turn to grin. "I had a phone interview with them last
week, and they want to fly me down after Christmas for a more in-depth
chat, but they said the job is mine if I want it. I figure we could
make it a joint trip and go visit UT Austin at the same time."

Jenn was staring at him wide eyed. "Okay -- details, lover, details!"

And he gave her the rundown of the Advanced American Institute for
Democracy, what he had learned, the work for democratization and
increased access to resources and facilities and the work in minority
communities to train them and teach them and get them to participate
in the civic process. Daniel had warmed up to this more hands-on
approach to practical politics, almost activism, a far cry from the
more theoretical work he had been focussing on at the university. He
felt the change would do him good.

Jenn remained silent when he had finished, looking at her glass of
wine, lost in thought. Then she looked back up at him. "It's perfect,
then. Everything is falling into place. Wow."

"You sound like you weren't sure it would?"

She shrugged. "Crossroads are funny. Never can tell what's going to
happen when you get to one. I was serious, you know -- I would have
given it up to stay with you."

His tone of voice matched hers when he replied. "Which is what made it
that much easier to decide. I would have too. You're worth any
sacrifice."

Jenn grinned, stood up, and went around the table. She leaned down
towards him. "You so know how to talk to girls." She pressed her lips
to his, and the soft kiss turned into a long soulful one that made
Daniel completely forget he was seated in a rather classy restaurant.

Jenn ran a finger down his face, a playful gleam in her eyes. "I'll be
right back, lover." She turned around and walked away.

Daniel's gaze followed he swaying form, and he admired the way her
dress clung to her body like a sheath. She was perfect, and she was
his. Or he was hers. An older lady at a nearby table gave him a look,
and he shrugged sheepishly at her by way of apology for their display
of affection, not feeling sorry for one second.

He took out his cell phone, and sent Serena a quick text message
asking if everything was okay. She did not answer. Probably deep in
investigative mode, he figured. He hoped she was successful with her
meeting. She had been quite upset by what Daniel had told her happened
to Marjorie at the NADA thing, when she collapsed screaming in pain
for no visible reason. Serena was worried something really bad had
happened, and it was eating her up.

He looked up from his phone when he heard the tell-tale sound his
girlfriend's heel. Jenn sat back down at their table.

"Here, this is for you." She extended a hand, waiting for him to
extend his. He did, and she handed him a wad of red material. He
looked at it, not understanding, and Jenn's Cheshire-cat smile did not
afford him any clue. When he unfolded it, he blushed as he immediately
recognized it for what it was -- a shockingly sheer red thong. He
pocketed it quickly, and glanced around to see if anyone had
noticed. The old lady from earlier was looking at them with a
disapproving frown on her face. The older man accompanying her was
looking at Jenn with wonder.

"What the hell are you doing?" whispered Daniel.

"You can be such a prude sometimes!" Jenn's smile grew wider. "Life
right now is perfect. Everything's perfect. And you know me -- when
I'm happy, I get horny. You don't mind it when I'm horny, do you?"

Daniel swallowed, thinking about his girlfriend naked underneath her
dress, and was taken with the sudden urge to stand on his chair and
loudly announce that he loved this girl.

"Besides, I think I behaved very well. I did give them to you, after
all. I toyed with the idea of just laying them on the table, you know,
so that the waiter would see them, and perhaps start fantasizing about
me."

Speaking of the devil, the waiter arrived just then, carrying a bottle
of champagne. Jenn looked up in surprise. "What's this?"

"Something to celebrate with."

The waiter popped open the bottle, and poured them two glasses. Jenn
took hers, Daniel his. "To the Blumberry," he said.

"To the Institute for Democracy," she replied.

"To the most wonderful girl in the world."

"To the most charming man in the universe."

Daniel took a deep breath. "I think it's only fair that I give you
something in exchange for what you gave me a few minutes ago..."

"Huh, I don't think we girls have quite the same underwear fetish you
guys do, lover."

"Then it's a good thing it isn't what I had in mind..." He gently set
a small box down on the table before her, and opened it. "Miss
Jennifer Hansen, will you marry me?"

Jenn's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, her eyes
wide. She stared at the ring nestled inside the box for a long time,
then up at Daniel, who despite all of his blustering was nervous.

She looked up at him, softness in her eyes. "Of course I will."

Daniel let out a breath he was not aware he had been holding. He
grinned madly. She grinned right back, and before long they were both
giggling like teenagers in love.

She took out the ring from the book, and slipped it on. "It's
beautiful," she said.

"I did have some help in making the final choice."

"Serena?"

"Who else?"

"Wait... she helped you choose? It's not what I would have expected
her to go for."

"Indeed. I had three choices down, and I went for the one she liked
the least, the one with the simplest design. If it had been up to her,
you'd have ended up with a huge rock that probably would have messed
up your balance."

Jenn's smile slowly turned into a frown.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, I gave you something, and then you gave me something in return,
but I feel I got the most out of the exchange. Hardly seems fair."

"I wouldn't quite put it that way, to be honest."

"No, no, no. This partnership should start on an equitable footing."

"What do you suggest?"

"That we take care of the bill, and we go find somewhere quiet where I
can show you in exquisite detail how much I'm looking forward to
spending the rest of my life with you, Mister Malcolm. I mean, I
already took care of removing one particular... obstacle..."

Daniel motioned for the check.


* * *


When Serena came to, it took her a while to realize that what she was
seeing an old wooden ceiling. She could feel straps on her body
holding her down, but they were overkill. She could not move. Her
limbs simply did not obey her commands. Except for her head, that she
could move, though doing so made her dizzy. What happened? The last
thing she could remember was being at The Spirited Flesh -- Snowman!

"Ah, Miss Banks. Welcome back."

Serena turned her head in the direction from which the voice had
come. The speaker, a man perhaps in his late thirties, black hair,
wearing a white lab coat, was sitting on a stool before a computer
console lost on a desk amidst electronic equipment, notes, and what
looked like home chemistry sets. The man looked familiar.

"I'm sorry about the rather heavy-handed way my friends treated you
back at the club. They can be rather juvenile at times. Nevertheless,
you wanted to talk to me?"

She finally recognized him. He was wearing a lab coat instead of a
suit, but this was the man they saw with Marjorie in the back alley of
the strip club a month ago.

"You're... Snowman?" Speaking was difficult.

"The same," the man replied. "Although you can call me Cargyle. Doctor
Cargyle. Snowman was a bit of a joke carried too far too long. How are
you feeling?"

The doctor stood and walked to Serena, putting two fingers on her neck
as if checking her pulse, a rather redundant gesture since she seemed
to be hooked up to a beeping monitor displaying all her vital signs.

"Where's... where's Marjorie?"

The doctor looked at Serena silently for several seconds. "Yes, this
is what brought you here, isn't it? Your quest to find your friend?"
He shook his head. "I told those kids it was a bad idea to keep her
activated her for such long periods of time. Besides the risk of
psychotic breakdown, I was worried someone would notice when she
disappeared for long periods of time. Like you did. But does anyone
listen to the doctor? No, of course not. They all like the doctor and
especially all the goodies he brings to the party and they are willing
to welcome him to the ranks, but listen to him? Blasphemy -- can't
have that."

Serena had no idea what the doctor was going on about. But the more he
talked, the more chance she had of learning something useful, and it
bought her extra time. She was clearly in some sort of laboratory, as
suggested by all the equipment, both computerized and medical,
although not a very advanced on. It looked as if it had been set up in
a basement. In fact, the walls were stone, indicating a cellar. Ever
the journalist, she tried to observe and remember as many details as
she could so as to be able to later reconstruct where she had been.

Her endeavors were almost forgotten when she saw who was lying down in
a gurney a few feet from her. Marjorie! The photographer looked
asleep, except that her eyes were open and staring up at the ceiling,
utterly expressionless.

"Marjorie! Hey Marge. It's me, Serena! I've been looking for you
everywhere. Marge! You okay? Marge? Fuck, what have you done to her,
you bastard?" She still could not move anything but her head, so she
settled for following Snowman -- doctor Cargyle -- with eyes spitting
venom as he circled her and approached the unresponsive Marjorie.

"Yes, well," said the doctor, after running a finger down Marjorie's
face, who did not react to the touch. "I guess you did find your
friend after all, Miss Banks. I have to congratulate you on your
perseverance. As to what happened to her, to be honest, I am not
entirely sure. If you allow me to be glib, then I would say that most
of her brain is fried. Utterly and irremediably fried." He shook his
head. "I told you, they don't listen to me. I warned them that the
programming I give the girls is crude -- I mean, look at this
equipment, it's practically prehistoric -- and becomes unstable when a
girl is kept activated for too long. Marjorie was my latest experiment
in making the programming more stable, by using a slightly different
technique to imprint behavior changes on a more permanent basis, but
she was still not ready. They wanted someone that they could not only
enjoy themselves but also send out to parties and other events and
provide the frat with some money, or status, or something. Who knows?
So they put her up to it. I tried to stay with her and keep an eye on
her, but to no avail. Now, her programming is pretty much all she has
left."

"Programming? Girls? Oh my God -- the dick girls! You've hypnotized
them!"

Doctor Cargyle looked at her with a mix of admiration and
disdain. "Dick girls! What a stupid term. But what else can we expect
from frat boys that can't be bothered to change their underwear? I'm
impressed, Miss Banks. But I have to correct you on one point. It's
not hypnosis. It's a mixture of drugs, direct neural stimulation, and
sensory programming. Somewhat artisanal, given my setup, and I guess
to a layman the effects might look the same as hypnosis."

"So you just take girls and what? Turn them into whores?"

Doctor Cargyle looked pained. "No, Miss Banks, that's not the
idea. I'm not turning them into anything. I'm simply continuing my
research into psychoneurology, trying to crack the code of the
brain. The potential benefit for mankind is incalculable: senility,
Alzheimer's, schizophrenia, crippling anxiety, all could be a thing of
the past. But I ran into some... huh... problems with former employers
of mine, and the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity was kind enough to
provide me a sanctuary to let me keep a low profile while my troubles
blew over. As a small token of gratitude for their kindness, I agreed
to provide them with... well, you know."

"The dick girls are programmed to be whores for the frat boys. How
nice. And thus, the bracelets..."

Doctor Cargyle nodded. "Yes, the bracelets." He looked over at a box
on the corner of the desk, which contained a large supply of silver
charms. "They serve as an anchor for the programming -- crude, but
effective. Plus it's a useful indicator to the kids that a girl is
available. And those girls are but a small price to pay to further
science. Besides, they are unaware of the programming they have been
subjected to, don't remember the time spent while activated, and are
generally unharmed by their experiences."

"Except Marjorie."

The doctor frowned. "Yes, except Marjorie."

He looked down at Marjorie, who was still staring off into space,
completely unaware of anything going on around her. A faraway look of
his own on his face, Doctor Cargyle ran a finger over her lips, then
inserted the tip between them. Instantly, Marjorie closed her eyes and
started his finger into her mouth, in a clear mimicry of a perfectly
executed blow job, thrusting her head up to meet the unmoving finger,
twirling her tongue around the tip and on the underside of the
invading digit as it went in. Her hips were moving in time with her
sucking, and she moaned softly. When the doctor pulled his finger out,
her tongue trailed after it, and a whine of frustration escaped the
girl. Then she went back to her catatonic state.

"A shame, really," continued the doctor, wiping his finger on his lab
coat, "she was such a wonderful research subject. And imaginative,
too. You see, programming someone is an art. You don't want a
robot. Well, some folks do want robots. But for best effect, you want
someone that can take elements of their own personality and wrap them
around their programming, so that the programming is enhanced --
magnified by whatever personality traits are in the subject. It's
really beautiful how it works. In Marjorie here, it was almost a
perfect combination. She took to sex like a fish to water. Did you
know she had slept with only two men before the fraternity got its
hands on her? You can say we opened her eyes to the world out
there. Of course, now, she is no longer in any kind of state to
appreciate it, except at the most primitive level. Such a shame."

Doctor Cargyle moved a hand to Marjorie's legs and slipped it under
the short grey dress she had on. She did not react, nor show any
emotion until he touched her crotch, or so Serena surmised. She saw
Marjorie throw her head back against the gurney, arch her spine, and
spread her legs while pulling up her knees. She thrust her hips
forward, and a moan escape her as the doctor worked his hand
rhythmically. He was finger fucking her, that was pretty clear, and
she was enjoying every second of it, that was equally clear. Her moans
grew gradually more intense, her trashing wilder, her pelvic thrusts
more violent, until her mouth locked into an O of surprise and she
tensed up like an elastic band about to snap before letting out a wail
as a massive orgasm hit her and caused her to shiver uncontrollably
until finally she collapsed back onto the gurney, eyes closed, a
serene smile on her face. The doctor pulled his hand out from under
her dress, and he again wiped his wet fingers on his lab coat.

"Amazing how responsive she still is, no? She's essentially catatonic
until she's touched in a sexual way, and then she goes into the
automatic part of her programming. I am not sure exactly the
mechanisms at play here -- by all accounts, even her programming
should be disabled. And yet..." He sighed. "If only I had more time
with her, I might be able to learn from this event. Alas, it has been
decided that we must get rid of her."

The doctor looked genuinely sad, but Serena was certain it was not
because of the ruined life lying before him, but rather his ruined
experiment. She was angry, and not a little bit scared. "What are you
going to do, kill her?"

The doctor reacted as if he had been slapped. "Dear Lord, no! What do
you think I am? A murderer? No, the fraternity has arranged to have
her transported to a facility where she will still be useful, even in
her degenerate condition. Her only skill right now is sexual
satisfaction, and she's been sold to a group in East Asia that will
employ her in a sexual-services facility that caters to more, shall we
say, extreme tastes than normal."

Serena was aghast. "You've sold her into slavery? That's... You're a
monster!"

"She will be useful, and have a purpose. Other than that, she's
completely brain dead. At least, this way, she gets to give pleasure,
and as you saw, receive it."

The man was insane, Serena realized. She willed her body to struggle
against her bonds, with no effect. When she looked up at the doctor,
he was filling a syringe carefully.

"What are you going to do to me?"

The doctor flipped the syringe and flicked the needle with a finger to
remove any air bubble. "Well, Miss Banks, you must admit that you have
been something of a pain lately, and you have uncovered more about my
presence here than I find comfortable. Granted, I do have a tendency
to talk too much. Now, since I need a new subject for my research,
seeing as my former subject is now out of service, you will fill that
role nicely. I have been meaning to experiment with selective memory
alteration anyways, so we can ensure that you will not remember what
has transpired tonight, or whatever happened to your friend
Marjorie. And if we can convince the frat brothers to treat you well,
you should not suffer from the adverse effects that Marjorie here has.

He glanced at Marjorie, still motionless on her gurney, then turned to
Serena. "You are a beautiful woman, Miss Banks, and the brothers here
will be more than happy to have you are around as their new girl."

The doctor tied an elastic band high on Serena's arm, then set the
needle of the syringe against the skin in the crook of her
elbow. Before she could fully comprehend what the doctor had in store
for her, a wave of dizziness engulfed her, and in the last few minutes
before the darkness claimed her for the second time in just a few
hours, she felt the doctor snapping a bracelet on her wrist and
welding it shut.


* * *


Daniel barely had time to unlock the door to their place before Jenn
attacked him. Her kisses were feverish, and she pushed his back
against the wall so she could press her body against his. He could
taste the champagne on her breath -- they had brought the bottle with
them from the restaurant and very nearly finished it on the cab ride
back.

Jenn ran her hands on the sides of Daniel's body, pulling his shirt
out of his trousers to reach his skin. Her tongue was deep in Daniel's
mouth, exploring, tasting, seeking his to fence with. He pulled her
against him, and she responded by thrusting her pelvis at him. His
hands ran down her back and pulled up her dress enough to be able to
palm the top of one thigh and a cheek, amazed as usual by the softness
of her skin. Jenn moaned in his mouth at the touch, then pulled out of
the embrace just enough to unbutton his shirt.

Foreseeing that the entryway would not be the most comfortable place
to continue this, he hedged towards the living room, Jenn following
him with a slight whine as if to ask where he was going.

In the cab over, they had not talked, only drunk from the champagne
bottle and made out. Daniel had seen the cab driver, an older taciturn
man, look at them through his rearview mirror after surreptitiously
adjusting it to get a better view. Daniel had tried to say something
to Jenn while she had been lavishly kissing his neck, and all he had
gotten out of her was a shrug, and she had moved to straddle his lap
after pulling the skirt of her dress up, presumably giving the driver
a perfect money shot of her behind. Daniel had thought "what the hell"
and had surrendered himself to the heady feeling of his girlfriend --
his beautiful, loving, sexy girlfriend, now fiancee -- wiggling on top
of his now raging erection. His hands had rested on her thighs, as her
moans had suggested that was where his hands ought to be.

Daniel had almost put a stop to it when Jenn had playfully reached
back and pulled down the zipper of her dress and bared her chest. No
bra, he had noted -- the bustier of the dress must have played double
bill there -- and her nipples had been bright red and hard, clamoring
for attention, attention that he had been more than ready to
provide. He had dived in, sucking on them with the intensity of a
starving baby, in just the way he knew Jenn enjoyed, and he had been
rewarded by her tossing her head back, her hair spilling out of her
clips, and letting out a lust-filled groan that reverberated in the
cab. The driver, who had been undoubtedly enraptured by watching the
sexy brunette overcome by her emotions, had had to jerk hard on the
steering wheel to avoid driving into a pole. Thankfully, they had been
close to home by then, and Jenn had just had enough time to rearrange
her top and pull down her skirt before the cab stopped by the curb in
front of their place. Daniel had paid the cab driver, barely able to
meet the man's eyes, while the latter was telling him he was a lucky
boy. Jenn had lingered by the side of the cab, talking to the driver
through his door window, while Daniel had climbed the stairs to unlock
the front door. He had heard her crystal laughter ringing in the quiet
night air before she ran up the stairs to meet him and kiss him so
hard their lips would be bruised the next day.

And now they were in the living room and Jenn had pushed Daniel down
to the floor and had unzipped her dress again and had let it fall and
pool at her feet, and she stood above him like every mane's wet dream,
naked but for a pair of thigh-highs and red spike heels, long hair
wild after having been trapped in her clips for the better part of the
evening. She posed for a few seconds, smiling at Daniel adoring look,
then she pounced, kneeling on his legs, pulling on his still
unfastened trousers and boxer shorts, and exposing his hard shaft. She
cooed at it while wrapping her hand around it, and slowly rubbed her
hand up and down a few times, as if she was judging its heft. She
seemed satisfied because very soon she scooted up and straddled his
hips, the head of his cock lined up right against her pussy lips. She
kissed him again, a slow burning kiss that seemed to suck his soul out
of his lungs, and in that momentary distraction Jenn managed to reach
down and push his cock inside her, and Daniel cried out when he felt
an almost intolerable heat cradling his sensitive organ. Jenn merely
grinned and kissed him harder, rocking her hips back and forth in a
slow fucking motion that was more tease than anything else.

She straightened up, tossed her hair back, and in slow but forceful
strokes fucked herself on his jutting cock. His hands moved up to cup
her breasts, and her hands joined his and pressed hard, massaging her
breasts roughly. She looked down at him, and smiled a naughty smile.

"You think that cab driver would have liked to see us like this? He
did look like a bit of a perv, didn't he? Staring at us like that?"

So she had known the driver had been looking at them, thought
Daniel. "Love, any man that goes for girls would have been turned on
by you and would have given a ball and a half to see you naked like
this, and his remaining half-ball to fuck you like this."

She laughed, and rocked harder on his cock. "It turned me on to feel
his eyes on me, you know? I could just feel them on my back, when I
unzipped my dress, and on my ass when I pulled my skirt up. I wanted
to turn around and push my boobs up and go 'tada!' just to see him
drool over them. Does that make me a bad girl?"

Daniel thrust his hips up to go against her own pushes, achieving a
deep penetration that made Jenn moan. "You have a perfect body,
love. Makes sense that you want to show it off..." He was happy to go
along with her fantasy.

"Perhaps he would have stopped the cab," she continued, her eyes into
Daniel's, "and turned around and touched them -- my boobs. I would
have let him, you know, would have liked to feel that stranger's hands
on them, squeezing them, twisting my nipples, with you next to me,
watching, perhaps rubbing your hands on my thigh, up to my dripping
wet pussy. With you next to me, my perfect lover, my knight."

Daniel moved his hands down to her sides to pull her down on him
forcefully, and she gasped, her hips jerking out of control for a
second.

"Fuck, that felt so good! Fuck me hard! Fuck, I'd have given him a
good show, too -- I'd have leaned back in the seat, spread my legs
wide and played with my pussy, rubbing and pinching before thrusting
one then two then more fingers inside. With both of you watching,
getting hard, both of you wanting to take me, to fuck me, you, the
perfect lover and love of my life, and him, the stranger, the old
pervert, who probably fantasizes every night about all the young sluts
that take his cab and that never offer him anything in return."

She leaned over Daniel and lowered her voice. "Perhaps I should have
payed for all those girls that turn him on day in day out, and let him
fuck me? Do you think he might have enjoyed that, to sink his cock
into this tight pussy of mine? I mean, he certainly seemed interested
earlier, when you were unlocking the door and I tipped him by giving
him my thong."

That stopped Daniel in his tracks. "You did what?"

"I slipped it out of your jacket in the cab, and gave it to him. You
should have seen his face too -- he got all red, I thought he'd pop a
brain vessel. You know he's probably jerking off into my panties right
now, rubbing them over his cock, imagining it's me all around it,
squeezing it and milking it, his sexy passenger with the tight dress
making out with her fiancee in the back of his cab."

Somehow the image was too much for Daniel, who took hold of Jenn
before flipping her onto her back and thrusting himself between her
legs. She moaned and laughed at the same time, spreading her legs wide
to offer him better access and pulling him to her, kissing him once he
had sheathed himself fully once more.

"Fuck yes," she groaned as he pulled out and thrust in again, the
sound of their skin slapping together loud in the empty
apartment. "Come on, fuck me -- just like that cabbie wanted to --
hard, so hard. Fuck me!"

She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he was driven wild by the
feel of her nylons against his hips. He put his hands on the ground on
either side of her head for leverage, and drove into her at a frenetic
pace. He vaguely noticed when she clenched and went rigid as an orgasm
ripped through her, and kept fucking her madly, thrusting into her so
hard that he was pushing them both across the floor. He shouted when
he came, thrusting deep into his girlfriend, while she gently ran her
hands over his back, soothing him as he emptied himself inside her. He
collapsed in a heap next to her, and they lay on the floor, spent.

Daniel eventually broke the silence. "And here we are," he sighed, "on
the floor again."

"It is a particularly comfy carpet."

"We'll have to make sure we get one like this when we get our house."

"Listen to you, Mister Domestic."

"It'd be nice, no? Having our own place?"

She was silent after that. "You know how sometimes your life seems to
change very fast in a short period of time. That last month was like
that for me. Lots happened."

He pushed up on one elbow to look at her. She was staring at the
ceiling, hands behind her head. "Too much?"

She looked back at him. "No. Just enough."

They kissed.


* * *


Doctor Cargyle was at the computer when Serena came out of her
drug-induced unconsciousness. Her programming -- her adjustment, as
his old employers had called it -- had gone without a hitch, like most
of the girls he had supplied to the fraternity. The only question mark
was the modifications he had made to support the memory alterations, a
variation from what he had used on Marjorie Duquesne.

Serena's stirring brought him out of his reverie. He went to her side,
glancing at the monitor that summarized her vital signs. He looked at
the silver charms bracelet on her wrist. He had disliked the bracelets
at first -- they were a constant reminder of how backwards was the
technology he had to work with here -- but they had grown on him. They
were a testimony to the fact that no matter what happened, he had the
wits to survive. Every bracelet he put on a girl was an assertion of
his resourcefulness and wherewithal.

"What happened? Daniel?..." Serena was disoriented, a common
side-effect of the drug cocktail necessary to facilitate the
programming.

"Miss Banks? Serena?" Doctor Cargyle leaned down and gently turned her
head towards him. Her eyes had some difficulty focussing. He said the
code words that the frat -- those stupid kids -- had elected to use as
their trigger: "I am your dick brother." Her eyes immediately flashed
to his left hand, where he sported the fraternity ring that the
president had given him, and her body stiffened momentarily before
relaxing once more.

He noted that reactions with clinical detachment. The core programming
seemed to have taken. Of course, he had ways of accessing the
programming of his subjects in different ways that did not necessitate
the ring, but this ensured that she responded to the trigger that
would be most commonly used. The doctor then ran Serena through his
usual post-programming tests, to which Serena submitted without
complaints, never losing her calm neutral expression.

So busy was he with his test suite that he almost missed the two
fraternity brothers at the laboratory door. "Hey Doc. Sorry to
disturb, but we're here to take care of the retard. The truck's
arrived. She's supposed to be on that freighter in a couple of
hours. She ready?"

Without even looking, the doctor acquiesced, and pointed to Marjorie
still lying in her gurney, now strapped in. "Yes, yes. There she
is. Be careful with her, please."

"Of course." They were setting themselves up to grab the gurney when
one of the brothers glanced at Serena. "Hey, is this a new girl? Man,
she's really a looker that one. Love the chocolate skin. And check out
those lips!"

"Forget the lips -- look at that rack on her! When's she gonna be
available, Doc?"

"The usual, give it a few days. I have more tests to run with this
one. She's special."

"She's special all right. Fuck, can't wait to have her begging to suck
my cock!" He laughed, and he and his friend lifted the gurney with
Marjorie and made for the door.

"You may want to say goodbye to your friend Marjorie now, Serena. I
doubt you will see her again, and if you do, well, I fear neither of
you will have the mental presence to even realize it."

Serena turned her head slowly towards her friend. "Goodbye, Marjorie."
Her voice was pleasant, relaxed. She then turned her attention back
towards the doctor, who was continuing his monologue. "Okay then. The
basic routines seem to have been implanted correctly. Step two, we
test the basic programming to make sure you are in position to please
your new frat brothers out there -- you heard the kids, you're going
to be quite a hit -- then we make sure your medium and short-term
memory have been suitably adjusted -- wouldn't want you to remember
all that you learned about us, or even that something funny has
happened to Miss Duquesne, do we? No, as far as you're concerned,
Marjorie told you she had suffered a nervous breakdown and was going
back to spend some time at a private institution to rest, and you will
have no more compulsion to investigate. How does that sound to you,
Serena?"

Serena blinked, and offered a small smile. "Whatever pleases you,
Sir."

The doctor nodded, then went to lock the laboratory door. He was
unfastening his trousers when he came back. "Well, then, let's
start. First off, oral skills. Let's see how much you know about
giving head, Serena. As the kid said, you do have some particularly
fetching lips."

Serena's smile became wolfish as she watched the doctor strip. "With
pleasure, Sir."


THE END of Book I: Whatever Happened to Marjorie Duquesne?