The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Alright, here’s the deal. This story isn’t about me ... it’s about Betty. Betty the Beauty. But things got awfully confusing awfully fast; and so, for the sake of simplifying it even a little, I’m going to step in first and introduce the characters. After all, I’ve known all the participants in our tale the longest. But the thing is: where do I begin? Most people would say that I should begin at the beginning; but I’ve always been a rebel, so I’m going to tell you the end of the story ... or at least, the end as far as I’M concerned. So ... here are the players, and here’s what happened to ME.

The first time we were actually all together was in the apartment, in the kitchen. The guys were fighting, sitting across from each other at the small dining table, yelling. Betty was sitting between them, facing me. And me? I wasn’t sitting at all; I was standing; leaning back; resting my elbows on the countertop next to the sink. Billy was to my right (Betty’s left); Tony was to my left (Betty’s right).

So ... you got the layout, right? Now, the first thing I’m going to do (right after I describe each of the people in our little production) is to tell you why I was standing up while the other three were sitting down. And that’s just going to blow you away! Swear to God! And THEN I’m going to tell you why the guys were screaming at each other. And that’s going to blow you away even more!

And so, without further ado, I will proceed with the introduction of characters. Me first. Hey, it’s MY introduction, so I’m going to go first! My name is Riya, and I am an “Other.” You see, in the U.S., every ten years, there’s a census. They like to say that they just want to know how many people there are; but if you’ve ever seen a census form, it’s pretty obvious that it’s all about marketing (or gerrymandering, which is the political equivalent). They are clearly trying to gain something. They’re trying to categorize us. They’re trying to sell us something.

The first thing they’re interested in is race. Black, Caucasian, Hispanic, Asian ... in the last census there were 15 categories to choose from. One of those categories was “Other.” My Dad’s father was an African American who, as a soldier in Viet Nam, met Grandma while on R&R in the Philippines. Granddad was Baptist, but he really didn’t give a shit; so Dad was raised Catholic. Mommy’s dad (Poppy) was a Samoan born in Hawaii. He met Moppy on a business trip to India. Poppy was raised in some sort of polytheistic religion, but he didn’t give a shit either; so Mommy was raised Hindu. And then, so was I. Unfortunately for Mommy, I inherited my “give a shit” characteristics from the men of the family. It came to a head (pardon the pun) when she wanted me to start wearing a bindi to show my faith following Pooja and other prayer services. I stopped praying and she stopped talking to me ... at least for a year or two.

So ... I’m an “Other.” Whatever genes are in me, they aligned to form something between “exotic hottie” and “junkyard mongrel.” I didn’t much care which. The way guys kept hounding me, I guess my “hottie” persona must have slipped to the fore from time to time, but I kept it at bay as best I could. After I left home, I immersed myself in quantum physics at MIT. I simply didn’t care about religion ... or about men. I even resorted to putting a bindi on my forehead just to discourage prospective suitors (though I never returned to prayer). You see, a bindi on a woman of marriageable age can signify dedication and loyalty to her man, as well as to her faith. Nothing turns a guy off like religion. But then I met Tony.

Next character: Anthony Bionicci (sitting to my left, Betty’s right). Born Chicago, 1984. Family business: extortion and coercion. Tony is NOT in the family business, much to the family’s dismay. He definitely has the family physical traits: dark hair, dark eyes, wiry frame, and an unbelievably smooth style with women. There was a glimmer of hope (as far as the family was concerned) when he went into pre-law at UNC. (There was ALWAYS a need for another mouthpiece in “the business.") But that glimmer died abruptly when Tony met Billy (sitting to my right, Betty’s left). Within a week of that meeting, Tony switched to the incredibly narrow field of Copyright Law.

Now, I know you’re going to accuse me of reneging on my original promises, but I am NOT going to describe Billy to you. I’ll let Betty do that. Exactly HOW William Smythe and Anthony Bionicci first got together (during their second year of post-grad studies) is still the stuff of legend. I’ve only heard them talking about it when they were both drunk, and neither of them is very reliable in that state, so not even I know for sure. They moved in together in a house off-campus. Billy had developed something, and Tony put ALL of his efforts (from that point on) into protecting it. All these years later, that’s still what he’s doing. And they’ve more or less split all the money from the thing 50/50.

Okay, I’m only going to bore you with this using one paragraph. If you can’t keep up, don’t worry about it. It’s MY field, and it took me a long time to understand everything about it, myself. Billy had developed a workable quantum computer. Basic computers use processors based on the electron. As complicated and as small as they are nowadays, they still basically use simple on-off, one-zero code. I mean, even processors that think in terms of terabytes are still based on the byte. Now, the concept of a system that is based on something OTHER than the electron has been around for decades. There have been advances made by folks at MIT, IBM, Argonne, CERN, Oxford and other places, working on principles that would include four, five and even eight qubits (quantum bits). Billy’s processor worked on the basic (and not entirely original) concept that a bit could not only be on or off, but on AND off at the same time (yes, yes, I know: the basis for “Schrödinger’s cat”). The REAL problem with quantum machines has always been that even if they worked, they wound up being less powerful than the computers we already have. But Billy’s processor not only worked, it immediately multiplied available capacity ... and it would continue to multiply that capacity as processing capability improved. He had already developed conversion software for every platform.

So ... I bored you with Billy’s paragraph. Here’s Tony’s paragraph. If you don’t know what a “patent troll” is, I need you to look it up online now. Keep in mind that the IDEA of quantum computers has been around for a long time now. Trolls, though they had no idea HOW something like that could conceivably work, had already patented THOUSANDS of conceptual overall themes that would at least come close enough to Billy’s so that they would claim the profits for whatever he came up with. THAT is why Tony changed his field of legal study. THAT was the problem he dedicated himself to solving. And more than two years later, he did. It meant combining legal teams from ALL the major computing firms ... and then applying political pressure (LOTS of political pressure) until the laws were finally, finally changed into something with a little more common sense. It was a HUGE victory. Overnight, the entire world of computing changed dramatically. And BQPC (Billy’s Quantum Processing Corporation, LLC) was born.

You have no idea how much I wanted to go to work for that company! EVERYBODY did! The world’s first quantum processor manufacturer! The firm was very small at first, even though the major computer corporations were clamoring for immediate payback for their part in changing the laws. Seed money just POURED in! Hundreds of millions! I don’t know how they decided to choose my name, or why I was one of the first people interviewed, but I’ll never forget that day as long as I live. The newly-appointed personnel manager was just about to call me into her office when Tony caught sight of me in the waiting room and immediately proclaimed that HE would interview me personally. His new office was still mostly crates and boxes, but he kept me in there for more than an hour. I knew right away that he had no interest in my abilities ... he only had interest in ME! I resisted, and when he asked me out for dinner that evening, I actually burst into tears before telling him to go fuck himself and storming out. Oh gosh, I had wanted that job! Before I’d gotten back to my motel room, he’d already left me three voice messages telling me that I had the job and that I was under absolutely NO obligation to him. Ever. Period. But please, please take the job, he said. And I did, of course.

At the end of my first week, he asked me out on a date again. I ranted and berated him and turned him down flat, but he just smiled and shrugged and apologized and walked away. He asked me out again the following week ... which I refused. And the next week, and the next. He was always very polite; always very respectful. But he was also very persistent. If I saw him approaching me in the hall, I would often yell “No, Mr. Bionicci, I will NOT go out with you!” and people would stop and stare and snicker. But as he passed, he would simply smile and respond quietly, “Perhaps next time, then, Riya.”

I was working furiously with Billy’s new staff of mathematicians and engineers (though not with Billy himself. A very private person, Billy). I stayed late on most evenings, working. Somehow, Tony found out about this, and wandered in from time to time. Often, in fact. And he’d ask me questions about what I was doing, apparently taking genuine interest. He never demanded. He never gave ultimatums. But he was always THERE; always applying that underlying subtle pressure; always letting me know that his feeling for me were pure but undeniable. He started sending me flowers. And finally, finally, I relented and went out with him. I had a good time ... and he KNEW it. And then, I let him take me out the following week. And the next. And then twice in a week. And then three times. I put off having sex with him for more than a month. But by that time, I was already hooked. I was already his. Forever.

Shortly after I moved in with him, he asked me for the first time if he could hypnotize me. It obviously took me by surprise. I knew that he had been a womanizer ... that he had often dated several girls at once. He swore to me (and I later learned it was true) that he hadn’t been with a woman sexually ... hadn’t even been out on a date with anyone else ... since the day he had met me. He confessed to me that before that, he frequently hypnotized girls, and that once knowledge of his little “hobby” had gotten around, women would approach him, wanting him to use it on them. They expected it to end in sex, and he insisted that he could dramatically improve the experience using it. I thought about it for a week or two before I finally let him try it on me. And he was right. It really DID improve things. Not that they particularly needed improvement. I was already his. Completely his. Oh, how I love that man! And ... I have always loved having sex with Tony. The hypnosis simply took something that was already wonderful and made it almost infinitely variable. Very soon, I became hooked on it. He would utter a few words, and I’d just surrender to him and slip into a trance. I have to admit, the feeling is heavenly!

I’m not going to tell you about the first time I met Billy. I WILL tell you that it was very, very much like the first time Betty met him, so you can (and must) wait for her description of that event. But I WILL tell you that we became very close friends. There is no one like Billy. He is stupendously bright, marvelously witty, and generally just fun to be with.

Just about the time the company spit out our first quantum processor, Tony bought the mansion on the lake south of Chapel Hill. It wasn’t one of those old southern plantation affairs; it was a modern 50-room place that had been built in the 1940’s by a textile manufacturing magnate. You know ... back when there WAS textile manufacturing in the U.S. There are three wings, and Tony and I moved into the top floor of one of them, while Tony’s offices were below. Another wing was used for “business purposes;” entertaining executives from computer firms, etc. Ballroom, dining room, etcetera, downstairs; bedrooms upstairs. We also used it for throwing parties for employees and friends from the universities in the Research Triangle and beyond. The downstairs of the remaining wing was used for R&D offices. And the upstairs held “The Apartment,” as well as a couple spare bedrooms.

The seven-room apartment was Billy’s sanctuary. He never went out. Ever. The largest room in the Apartment was the office, one wall of which was taken up with books, while the other three walls were covered with dry-erase boards. There were movable ladders that allowed him to scribble all the way to the ceiling. In the center of the room were four desks, and he’d switch from one to the other depending on which computer he needed at the time. The Apartment also contained a bedroom, living room, exercise room, den and kitchen ... in which, at the beginning of the end of our story, we were all sitting. All except me. I was standing. Remember that.

And now, at long last, it’s time for me to tell you about Betty. Betty is the girl that all other girls love to hate. Her hair is a jumbled mass of red curls that fits her perfectly, and every strand stays in its perfectly chaotic place. As a matter of fact, ALL of Betty’s features fit her perfectly. Her nose might be a tad smaller than the perfect nose, but it’s the perfect size for HER. Know what I mean? I have seen her without an iota of makeup, and she still looks as if her face couldn’t be improved upon. Her lips are naturally red, her cheeks naturally blush, her lashes naturally dark and full. But that’s NOT the most amazing thing about her. The clincher is that beauty doesn’t MEAN anything to her. She never works at it! She never really THINKS about her appearance! It would be one thing if she just took it for granted ... but it’s something entirely different to realize that if she suddenly lost her beauty, she wouldn’t suffer because of it ... she’d be just as happy as always ... she’d just go right on being Betty. And THAT is what is so infuriating!

The final characteristic that fits her perfectly is her overall persona. Betty is innocent. Sublimely, ridiculously innocent. She always, always tells the truth, no matter who she is speaking to. And conversely, she always assumes that that person is telling her the truth, in return. This is not to say that the girl is stupid. In point of fact, she is one of the brightest, sharpest people I’ve ever met. It means that, in the end, she is quite often disappointed; sometimes crushingly so. I know that she has been enticed by at least two separate fringe religious groups. I pulled her back from the brink in one of those cases myself the year we graduated from high school. And, I know that she’s been seduced by two guys who promised her the moon and delivered only heartache. I’ll give her one point: she learns from her failures. After the second bout of religious fervor, she pretty much lost her faith. And after romantic heartache number two, she simply stopped dating. Period. At the time our little saga took place, she hadn’t been out with a guy for two years. No shit.

Okay, one last point before we get started here. Billy’s favorite movie line comes from “Silverado,” a western from several years ago. In it, John Cleese’s character tells a group of cowboys in very stilted English: “I am not from around these parts.” Billy loves to say that. And ... he’s not. It really isn’t a problem ... unless he becomes agitated for some reason. You know ... flustered or embarrassed or angry. And right now, he was angry. As a result, he had slipped back into the dialect of his upbringing. It made understanding him a bit ... difficult.

So ... hang on to your hats! Here we go! Billy to my right, Tony to my left. Why was I standing up? Because I was wearing the same skimpy, powder-blue, pull-over dress that I’d been wearing to the party earlier that evening. That dress ... and nothing else. The bra was in the trash. I had no IDEA where my panties were. And Billy’s cum was dribbling out of me down my inner thighs. I knew that if I sat down, I’d wind up with a dark stain on the back of my dress in precisely the place I least wanted a stain. And it would only underscore the horrible fact that it was Billy’s cum that was doing the staining! Remember ... it was Tony that was my true one-and-only ... my lord and master ... my soul mate ... the love of my life.

Tony and Betty had caught us “in flagrante delicto.” Oh, I forgot to tell you that Betty sort of had a thing for Billy. I was not really sure if that was the reason she was sitting like she was: between the two guys, refusing to look up at me. She’d been carrying around a flower all evening ... a long-stemmed rose … and she was idly playing with it, so that the poor thing was about to fall apart. Gosh, I felt horrible! Not just because I’d let Billy do the deep nasty to me ... not just because I thought I’d betrayed Tony ... but because I thought I’d betrayed Betty, too.

And why were the boys arguing? Because it had all been Tony’s doing! Well ... not quite; but almost. At various times during the afternoon and evening, Billy, Betty and I had all been hypnotized (and not always by Tony ... but I’ll get to that.) But Tony had been responsible! The events had all unfolded BECAUSE of Tony. I felt awful. Billy felt awful. Betty felt awful. And Billy, for one, was not going to let it slide.

“Dodgy bloody stonkin’ tosser!” Billy screamed across the table (at his best friend, mind you). Betty didn’t look up, but her forehead wrinkled in thought, and I could tell that she was trying to translate that in her perfect little head.

Tony raised his hands in surrender. “Dude, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know ….”

“I ain’t your dude, mate! Put a sock in it! Pardon me if I look a bit narked, but you’re gawd barmy! Ye’ gutted me, bugger!”

Betty’s forehead wrinkled a bit more, but she still didn’t look up.

And Billy went on: “Y’ send your crackin’ bird in here to mesmerize me and get me worked up; then you go and drag HER in to watch me give ‘er the roger! Sorry we’d already finished up!”

“That’s NOT why I brought her in here!” Tony said earnestly. “She wanted to see you again. And the way you looked at HER during the last party ….”

“You told ‘er I was lookin’ at ‘er?”

“She KNEW, you fool! You’d already shown her your little video setup here! And so she knew you were probably watching while I put her under tonight, too.”

“Oh … I betcha y’ had a great time doin’ THAT! What ELSE y’ been doin’ with her all this time, eh?”

“Nothing, dude; I swear. But … oh, man! I’ve never had a subject like HER! You would not believe how ….”

“Wonderfully suggestible,” Betty said quietly. It was like she was talking to the flower.

“Yeah,” Tony said, nodding. “Wonderfully suggestible!”

“Well, she’s ‘ad about enough of ‘yer bloody suggestions!” Billy growled.

“That’s the point, Billy!” Tony responded emphatically. “She can’t get enough! She needs a strong man to ….”

“Guys!” I implored. “Stop talking about her like that. She’s sitting right there!”

“I’m sitting right here,” Betty said to the flower.

They ignored us both. “Well, ’y buggered it bad, mate!”

“I was trying to HELP you, you thick-skulled idiot!” Tony flared.

“’Elp me? Sod off! You know what you are? You … you ….”

“Wanker,” Betty said quietly. She didn’t look up, but kept fingering the flower. The three of us stared at her in shock for a long three seconds before bursting into laughter.

“Let’s all take a deep breath here,” I chimed in. “None of us meant for this to happen. It wasn’t what it looked like.”

Billy barked a laugh. “It looked like we’d done the rumpy pumpy ‘cause we HAD, dear heart.”

“That’s enough!” I screamed, and both men seemed to shrink back, silent. Betty STILL didn’t look up, and I began to really be afraid that Tony had done something serious to her. They’d been together for almost two hours. Had he altered her somehow? Changed how she thought? How she acted? I took a breath and pushed away from the counter. “What’s done is done,” I declared sternly, walking around the small table. “We’re going to get through this and we are NOT going to let it get in the way of our friendship! Got it?” The boys fidgeted and regarded each other suspiciously, but remained quiet.

I put my hand on Betty’s shoulder, and when she still didn’t respond, I took her hand. She rose and allowed me to pull her in the direction of the next room. Suddenly, she stiffened, pulled away from me, and went back to the table. She picked up the flower before returning to me and putting her hand back into mine; and together, we went into the living room. There, hopefully out of earshot of the guys, I turned her toward me and looked deeply into her eyes.

“Are you still in there, Betty?” I asked. That brought the old smile back, and I sighed in relief.

“What …? Did you think he’d brainwashed me or something?” she asked softly.

“I thought it a distinct possibility, yes.”

Her sight seemed to shift inward, as if she was examining herself … her thoughts and feelings. “I suppose it IS possible, at that. He put me to sleep over and over. Dozens of times. Maybe hundreds. It was … wonderful!” Her eyes focused on mine again. “He does that to YOU doesn’t he, Riya? You submit to him like that, don’t you? Over and over.”

I couldn’t keep the shiver from my body as I thought about it. “Oh, yes. Yes, I do.”

She smiled dreamily, then frowned. “I hope you don’t feel jealous. I didn’t mean to let him do something … um … intimate with me.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a sigh. “How can you say that after what I’VE just done? Oh, girlfriend, I’m SO sorry!”

She kept smiling. “But YOU didn’t do it, did you? I mean, you didn’t MEAN for it to happen, right? It just sort of happened by itself?”

“I could have stopped it,” I told her morosely. “I SHOULD have stopped it.” I took a breath. “Yes, it was my fault.”

She considered this for a long moment, then looked earnestly into my eyes. “Riya … what was he like?”

I laughed, despite myself. I’d always been her rock, her foundation. And now, even though I’d betrayed her, she sought my advice. I hooked my arm through hers and steered her back toward the kitchen. “Find out for yourself,” I said bluntly.

“Riya!” she gasped.

I paused and looked at her. “You want him, girl. TAKE him!” Then I marched her back into the room with the guys, who still sat sort of bristling at each other without talking.

“Tony, my dearest darling,” I said with as much icy venom as I could muster, “we should leave.” He fumbled uncertainly to his feet and blinked at me. “And Billy,” I added sweetly, “I’m not going to drive Betty back tonight. It’s too late. Could you put her in one of the spare bedrooms, please?” He, too, got to his feet. “I’ll leave her in your capable hands,” I finished, then turned to Tony and led him out of the apartment and down the hall.

Finally away from them, I let go of my boyfriend’s hand and strode off ahead of him. It took him a long ten seconds to catch back up to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off and kept marching. I didn’t pause as I reached the marble staircase, breaking cadence only briefly when I heard him trip and stumble behind me, and for a moment, I wanted to turn and make sure he was okay. But his hurried steps resumed their tempo, and I ignored him. Downstairs, I turned toward the door to one of the back courtyards … the one with the pool and hot tub, and suddenly, we were outside in the warm August night. He finally caught my arm and spun me around to face him.

“Riya, please! Give me a chance to explain!”

“You KNEW that was going to happen, didn’t you?” I accused.

“No, I swear.”

I stared into his eyes. “But you knew it was a possibility!”

And I saw it, deep inside him. Moreover, he KNEW that I’d seen it. He couldn’t hide his true feelings from me. His whole body seemed to deflate a little. “Yes … I knew it was a possibility.”

“Then WHY? Why did you put me in that position? Put US in that position? You crushed him, Tony! He feels awful!”

He smiled gently at that. “He’ll get over it. And you HELPED him, Riya! I could tell the moment I laid eyes on him just now! He was a mouse, and now he’s a lion!”

“Mouse … lion!” I sputtered. “And I am the whore!”

“No,” he said, still smiling. “You are my Riya. My wonderful Riya. You were magnificent! Now he’s free … to pursue Betty, or whomever he pleases. You saved my friend, Riya. I love you.”

I felt tears flood my eyes. “Apparently, your love for me is not as strong as your friendship for him.”

The smile never faded. I’ve never felt so much simultaneous love and exasperation toward anyone in my life. “It’s not a contest, my dear. And nothing in this universe can exceed my love for you.” He dug in his pocket for something, then held out a small case, snapped it open, and fell to one knee in front of me. “Riya, will you …?”

My eyes went round in shock and I backed up a step. “NO!” I screamed loudly. “Tony, don’t you DARE!”

I was blinded by tears, and as I turned to run, I very indelicately tripped over a lounge chair and went sprawling face-first onto the lawn. I got my hands under me, but as I raised a knee to regain my footing, I kicked another chair and went down again hard. Suddenly, he was there and he’d flipped me over and I was in his arms. I looked up into his face. At least the stupid smile was gone. “Honey,” said unsteadily, “I …. What …?”

I put my hands against his chest and pushed, but he didn’t let go. “Tony, you stupid putz!” I pushed again, but to no avail. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me for months! But … but I’m full of another man’s cum! I feel it dripping out of me! If I tell you yes, then every time I remember this, I’ll remember how I feel now! I don’t feel … clean, Tony! And anyway, you just made me …!”

His strong arms slowly crushed me to him. I tried to push against him one last time, but then his body was against mine. Before I realized it, I felt his lips against my left ear. “Shhh,” he hushed me gently. And he said the words. I don’t know what the words are … my conscious self forgets them as soon as I hear them; but those words are not to be denied. They make me sleep. They always make me sleep.

I gasped and tried to stiffen my body, but I found it relaxing, instead. “Tony, NO!” I tried to scream, but it came out as a pleading whisper. Suddenly, I felt as if I’d been awake for days. I was SO tired!

“Relax, Riya,” he purred. “There’s time for a little nap. Just let go for me, okay?”

I wanted to push against him again, but my arms flopped to my sides into the cool grass instead. “Oohh, Tony!” I moaned.

“Too many bad thoughts, Riya,” he said gently. “Just let all of your thoughts go away. No thoughts at all.” There was something I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t think what it was now. I couldn’t think at all. “Just let go and surrender to me, Riya,” he said earnestly.

“Surr … en … derrrrrr,” I breathed. Oh, I cannot begin to tell you how much I wanted this … how good this felt. Sometimes, when Tony hypnotizes me, I dream that I’m walking. Sometimes, I fly. This time, I floated … out into the pleasant night. At first, I wasn’t naked; but then I was. I floated over to the hot tub and settled into the warm, swirling water. It felt luxurious; marvelous. And I felt … really, really good. Feminine. Sexy. And clean. I don’t know why, but if I had to tell you one word to best described me at that moment, I’d have told you I was clean. The bubbling torrents of hot, cleansing water had made my body … perfect. All by myself, I decided to count to three. “One Two Three.”

I blinked my eyes open and looked around. At first, I thought I was alone, but then I saw him … right in front of me. Well … not all of him. His arms were sticking up out of the roiling water, holding the open ring case. If I looked a little harder, I could just make out the top of his head beyond the arms, his black hair swirling around it. He was obviously kneeling on the bottom of the small pool. I reached out, grabbed the jewelry case and pulled. He didn’t let go.

“Hey!” he cried, bobbing to the surface, sputtering and blinking. I realized that he wouldn’t let go of the box, so I snatched the ring out of it. “Hey!” he barked again. “You can’t take that until you agree to marry me!”

“You’re going to drop it, you fool!” I scolded. I slipped the ring onto my left ring finger.

“But … you haven’t answered my question!” he pleaded.

“What question?”

He sighed. “WILL YOU MARRY ME?!”

I examined the ring. Oh, gosh, it was perfect! Not gaudy at all … maybe a bit more than half a carat. But it was brilliant blue fire on my finger. I didn’t look up at him. “Why don’t you just MAKE me give you the answer you want?”

“Make you?”

“You can hypnotize me and make me do anything!” I accused.

“I’ve never MADE you do anything!” he said sincerely. “I help you relax and sleep and feel good. I try to help you feel … wanted … needed. Because I want and need you desperately, Riya! I play some games with you during sex, because I know you like it! I try to help you feel confident and secure. But I swear to God … I’ve never made you do anything you didn’t want to!”

“You orchestrated what happened with Billy tonight!”

He was beside me now, his naked body touching mine. He put his arm around me, and I pulled away from him for just a second before giving in to my innermost desires and settling into his shoulder. I sighed and looked at the ring again.

“I asked you to help me with my plan,” he said. “I admit that it was a little … unorthodox.” He was quiet for a few seconds after I’d grunted a sarcastic laugh. “But if you had objected, I wouldn’t have made you go through with it. You know that.”

“And you know that I would never refuse you anything,” I countered softly.

He sighed. “Yes. I know that.” He was silent for a long time. “Was it really so bad, Riya?”

I kicked him in the leg, but the water dulled the action. He looked genuinely shocked. “Oooo! You stupid idiot!” I said loudly. When I realized he still didn’t have a clue, I had to make a quick choice whether or not to explain it to him. But … I could have no secrets from him. “Tony, don’t you see? It wasn’t bad at all! It was really good! That’s the problem!”

And THAT shocked him. “Oh,” he said dully. “Do you …?” He was silent for awhile. “I mean … uh … do you … um … want to …. I mean … with him ….?”

I relented. My man, the crazy fool, needed his ego stroked. “You are my one and only, Tony. I don’t want Billy … or anyone else. Ever. I love you. That’s why it hurts so much.”

He seemed to get a little more of that mafia family confidence back. “Tell me about it, babe.”

I laughed at that. “You want me tell you how your mate shagged your Sheila,” I asked indignantly, trying to duplicate Billy’s drawl.

“Sheila is an Australian term, not British,” he explained. “Billy would never say ‘Sheila.’ And I want you to tell me everything … everything that happened tonight. I’ve hardly seen you all evening. Start with going to pick up Betty. Tell me.”

He had his arm around me, and I turned, facing away from him, while I stretched my legs out and rested them on the built-in bench in the hot tub. I settled my back into his body and he idly began running his fingertips all around my right breast. I DID want to tell him what had happened to me, and the thought crossed my mind that he might have conditioned me for this … to comply … to give in to his suggestion. I took a deep breath, which was more of a sigh of resignation. And I told him. I told him everything. Every little thing.

“When you woke me up from my pleasant hypnotic ‘nap’ this afternoon,” I told him, “I took the sheets of paper you’d given me and I folded the stack into quarters so I could fit it into my purse. I had to leave early so that I could go by the dress shop, so I kissed you goodbye and I did my errands and I got to her apartment right on time. I knew the dress would fit her, because I’d tried it on myself, and it was just a wee bit small on me, so I knew it would be perfect on her. And we’ve traded shoes, even in high school, and so I knew those would fit her, too.

“Her furniture arrived today, so the place was still a mess. And Tony, she has so LITTLE stuff! I mean, with her looks, she should have a kingdom at her feet! She should be the crown princess of some country! But all she has to her name is a cheap bed and dresser and couch and dinette set. All of her clothes were in one box! How can she be so poor and look like THAT?! I mean, it’s not as if she’s stupid or anything. She’s really, really bright! Smarter than I am about a lot of things!

“So anyway, I KNEW that she’d protest about the dress, but I made her try it on, and it WAS perfect! And I knew that she’d hate the shoes because the heels were so high, but they were perfect, too, and she knew it. She really looked hot, but you already knew that, because you saw her when you hypnotized her later during the party. Anyway, she didn’t want to go the party, because she’d already been to one here last weekend; but I convinced her that her paperwork was all complete now, and as an employee, she was expected to attend. I also explained to her that she’d finally be able to meet Billy tonight, and that she was still in the running for the spot as his personal executive assistant, so she HAD to go.

“As soon as we arrived, I shoved a tall glass of vodka and cranberry into her hand. I KNEW how cranberry juice affected her, and I gave her another tall glass when that one was empty. Within an hour of arriving, she was asking for a bathroom; so I walked her over to the west wing staircase and pointed, and up she went. I waited for a minute before following, feeling like a spy creeping around my own house. I spotted her in the hall, but she was at the wrong door. Something was holding her attention, and I ducked out of sight before she could look back. Finally, I took another peek, and she had moved down the hall and was trying the door to Billy’s apartment … and then she was inside. I snuck down and listened at the door for a minute, and I heard her scream … and I almost said ‘to hell with your plan’ and I wanted SO much to rush in and explain things … but she didn’t scream again or anything, so I figured that maybe you were right. Maybe this WAS the way.

“So … I went back down to the party. But I really couldn’t give it any attention as hostess or anything. I saw you across the room once or twice, but I could never make my way over to you. I was on pins and needles, watching the clock until another 45 minutes had passed (according to your ‘plan’), and then I almost sprinted back upstairs and I barged right in on them. I wouldn’t quite call them ‘lovey-dovey’ or anything, but they were definitely very friendly … and maybe just a bit more so. She was genuinely taken with his speech … the idiom and slang, and she was giggling more than I’ve seen her do in years. She was … comfortable. She’d lay a hand on his arm when she was making a point, and she’d tend to leave it there after that point was made. And Billy, of course, was nervous and shy and smitten.

“Well, just as you told me to do, I ordered Betty to go downstairs and talk to you. She REALLY didn’t want to go. She REALLY wanted to stay with Billy and talk … and, I think, just BE with him. But, of course, she didn’t deny me. She’s never denied me anything … in her whole life. And so, away she went. And Billy and I were alone.

“I wanted to just get on with it … to get on with your plan … but Billy went to his computer and watched. He had the security network pulled up, of course. He could see the party downstairs, and everybody there. He clicked around a bit, from view to view, until he spotted her, and he followed her as she made her way over to you, changing cameras to get the best view of her. We watched together as she spoke to you … and as you spoke to her. We couldn’t hear anything, of course, but I could almost figure out what was going on. She argued … she listened … she talked … and finally, she gave up. I could tell when that happened … I could see it in her eyes. And then her eyes began to blink and close; and I could see her sort of fight it. I don’t know what you said to her … how you had gotten her to go along with this … but it was obvious that she’d agreed to it; because she nodded, and all the fight just drained out of her, and she just surrendered to you. Her eyes closed and she leaned into your arms, and she was out cold.

“Billy made a sound of startled protest, but he didn’t comment. He just watched. We saw her eyes open, and she nodded and looked up at you, and you snapped your fingers and she was out again, as if you had turned off a light switch. It happened again … and again, and slowly, a small crowd was forming around the two of you. You were talking to the crowd now, not just her; but you kept waking her up, then snapping your fingers and gathering her into your arms as she’d slump back into sleep. Now everybody in the room was watching, and after you’d done that another dozen times, you made her stand up and face everybody. I know that she’s horribly shy, but she seemed to be okay talking to everyone. I have no idea what she was saying to them. She looked at you and shook her head once or twice; and then she seemed to be struggling within herself; but then she reached behind the back of her neck, untied the halter and bared her chest to everyone in the room.

“Billy leaped to his feet, his fists clenched, but he still seemed incapable of comment. He just watched the monitor. I couldn’t help but look down at him. He was hard. And Tony … he was big! I … I never even thought about it before. In all this time … in all these months, I’ve never even considered anything … sexual … about Billy. Of course, Betty must have that effect on every guy, I suppose. It would only make sense that she would make Billy hard, too; especially with her standing topless in front of a crowded room.

“It only got worse when you just left her standing there and hypnotized Belinda Garcia from accounting … and then got her to take off her blouse and bra, too. And Belinda started stroking and sucking on Betty’s nipples. And then you made them kiss like lovers or something. How did you get Betty to just STAND there and let that happen? I can’t imagine that she’d ever WANT something like that. Belinda, I can see … everybody knows she’s an A-number-one slut! But BETTY?! Anyway, after you had them both dress themselves again, and after you’d awakened them and things got back to normal, Billy was trying to calm himself. He was breathing pretty hard. And speaking of hard … he still was; but I kept my eyes on his face as much as I could, only glancing down when he’d turned his face away from me.

“But I recognized that now was the time. It was now or never. So I turned off the monitors and started gently explaining to him that his chances of scoring with Betty … or any girl, for that matter … would be greatly improved if he could just find a way to me more aggressive around the opposite sex. I patiently told him that I thought I could help him with that. I mentioned how you had helped me interact better with those around me by using hypnosis; and I told him that I thought there was a good chance I could help him the same way.

“I think he sort of talked himself into it. He mentioned to me that you had already made the offer, but he didn’t feel right about surrendering emotionally to another guy. You men are so weird that way. But after awhile, he didn’t seem to find any problems with surrendering emotionally to ME. I did just what you told me to do. I called up the spinning spiral on one of the computers, like you showed me; and I sat him down in a comfortable chair facing it. I stood behind him and began telling him to relax; and eventually, I began massaging his shoulders and whispering my suggestions close to his ear. His shoulders and arms are SO broad and strong! I mean, I see how big he is every day, but I had never touched him in that way before, and I hadn’t realized that he’s all muscle! As far as the induction itself, it seemed to be almost second nature, talking to him in that way; and it dawned on me that you must have coached me on what to do and say while you had me under hypnosis earlier today. That didn’t bother me or anything, though. Once again, you had used my trance to help me … to bolster my confidence in this. Subconsciously, I knew that I would never have been able to pull it off if you hadn’t prepped me for it.

“It took longer than I thought it would, but eventually, his head fell forward onto his broad chest, and I knew he was out. I kept talking to him, telling him to go deeper for me; that by following my voice deeper, he would eventually become stronger emotionally, like he wanted. And while I told him this, I found my purse and retrieved the sheets of paper with your notes. It was easy after that. I just read what you had written. I read it all the way through three times, just like you said. The first time, I was just reading … not really paying attention to what I was saying. I DID notice that at the end of each reading, there was a long paragraph that made him go even deeper … deeper each time. By the end of the last time through, I understood what you were doing … or rather, what I was doing by reading your words. About how, if a girl showed interest in HIM, and if he liked her … wanted her … he should not feel reluctance to make a pass; that very often, girls expected a guy to. I’m not sure that’s right, but the way … instilling quite THAT degree of sexual aggression, I mean. But you had tempered it by telling him (I mean … by having ME tell him) that if a girl ever, ever told him no, or to stop, that he should immediately back off and respect her wishes.

“After it was over … after the third reading … I got him ready to wake up. I turned off the computer monitors again, and I got another chair and put it next to him, swiveling them so that we were facing each other. And I told him that I’d count to three … just the way you count when you wake me up each time. And then I did. And then … he attacked me.

“Before I even knew what was happening, he’d stood and plucked me out of that chair as if he were snatching up a rag doll. I was shocked by so many different things all at the same time. You would not BELIEVE how strong he is! It became immediately apparent that there is absolutely no way … no conceivable way … that any girl could possibly fight him off physically. By the time my mind comprehended what was happening, he had spun me around like a toy so that my back was against his chest. One of his hands was against my stomach, and the other was pawing my breasts. You know how big his hand are … how strong they are!

“And finally, finally, coherent thoughts started popping into my head … but once they were in there, they started tripping over each other and piling up in a heap! The first and foremost was that I had done this! I had done this to him! I had TOLD him that if a girl showed interest, it was okay to make a pass at her. Why hadn’t I SEEN it? I was the only girl he had been around for months! It would make SENSE if he mistook that for ‘interest!’ All I had to do was tell him no. That’s all it would take; just one little word. But I’d just spent the better part of an hour building him up for this! Was I now going to cut his confidence off at the knees? What would that DO to him psychologically?

“I heard a zipper and felt my dress loosen. And then suddenly, my arms were above my head. He had put them there … with a power that defied any kind of resistance. And just like that, the dress was over my head and gone! I KNOW I was making noises … uttering words … but they were all meaningless. I’d exclaim ‘Billy!’ or I’d gasp or I’d moan or maybe whimper. But I didn’t say ‘no.’ After what I’d done to him to lead up to this moment, I couldn’t bring myself to do that to him.

“He tried to work the latch on my bra, but then he pulled with both hands; and the way it sounded when it let go, I knew it was ruined beyond repair. He grunted in irritation, and with the flick of a wrist, he sent the undergarment sailing halfway across the room, where it landed, draped across the rim of the trash can, hung on for a moment, and slid inside. Gone. Just like that. His hands were back at my waist, and they slid down down down, and my panties were at my ankles. I’d taken off my shoes earlier … I ALWAYS take off my shoes in a room I intend staying in for awhile … and so I was naked … totally naked … in his arms.

“Such power! Such raw physical strength! When his arms went around me again, I put my own on his arms … and oh, those arms were moving! One hand was on my left breast now, massaging gently; then it would flatten against the front of it and slowly drag downward across the nipple. The other big paw was at my sex, between my legs. Almost tenderly, it applied pressure until my legs parted. How could a geek who never went outside of his home laboratory have such rough-feeling hands? And how could his palm scrape so lovingly and for such a long time across my clitoris. I couldn’t stop the moan from escaping my lips. And then, his palm did exactly the same thing again; but this time, it was slick and wet … and it was a huge shock to realize that that moisture had come from ME!

“And for the first time, I had to ask myself: Do I WANT this? Is THAT why I’m not telling him ‘no?’ I panted and tried to understand it, but he had shifted breasts, and he was rolling my right nipple between his beefy forefinger and thumb. And his palm went scrrraaaaapppe across my clit again, and I couldn’t stop a massive shiver from running through my body. He had pushed my legs wide by this point, his massive palm flat against my sopping vagina, and in my hazy mind, I realized that my feet were no longer on the floor. He had picked me up as if I weighed nothing at all, and he was carrying me with gentle hands under my breast and between my legs … moving us toward the living room and the couch. One of his thick fingers had slid between my pussy lips and inside me. His thumb was on my clit. Another thumb was idly stroking across my nipple.

“I didn’t want this! At the very least, I didn’t WANT to want this! Too late, I suddenly realized. It’s too late. It’s coming. There’s nothing I can do to stop it now. It’s past the point of no return. The orgasm is here. Nothing I can do. But … I don’t want it!

“OH!”

“Those big, big hands were against my body, so there was absolutely no way I could possibly hide it from him. He felt the muscles in my tummy and my legs and my cunt and my whole body ripple and flex and clutch and jerk; and so he knew what I’d done … knew what HE had done to me. Since I’d started dating you … since I’d started having sex with you … I have gotten to know my own body; and I’ve gotten to know my own orgasms. I call this one ‘The Roller.’ Sometimes, they’re sharp and hard; and sometimes they surprise me, coming out of nowhere; and sometimes they build for a long, long time before exploding; and sometimes they seem to shake me violently, like a dog shaking a toy. ‘The Roller’ is like a wave that gently washes over me as I lie in the sand on the beach … almost quietly, soothingly swamping my entire body … submerging it in blissful pleasure … leaving me sputtering and gasping for breath. I really, really hadn’t wanted it. But oh my, it was marvelous!

“And I relaxed back into his arms, floating. He positioned me effortlessly, spreading my body out on the couch; and then he spread my legs apart, and I let him; and I thought to myself: ‘When did he remove his clothes?’ but I didn’t let it worry me, because my mind was sort of drifting in and out; and then he crawled onto the couch himself, between my legs, positioning himself, and I let him do that, too. With a sigh, I reached down and took his cock in my hands, and I stifled my gasp at his size; but I really didn’t have much to compare it to, because I had only ever been with you. But it was very, very different: not quite as long, but much bigger in circumference. That’s the word that popped into my head: circumference. Typical scientist’s word. There must be dozens of words to refer to that in a good porn dictionary. ARE there porn dictionaries? But there was no time left to think about that. There was no time left to think about ANYTHING. Because I had guided him to my pussy, and now he was pushing inside me.

“I only thought one thing after that: He’s stretching me! Stretching me! Stretching stretching stretching me! And then his bulk was atop me … big … heavy. And he was inside me … fully totally completely inside me. Stretching me. Would my body ever be the same again? Would my body still please you? ‘Oh, Tony!’ I thought. ‘Oh, my Tony!’ But then, Billy was pulling up … pulling out … before pushing pushing pushing back in; stretching stretching. I was making little noises, little sounds. And he went: thrust thrust thrust. Push push push. And I went stretch stretch stretch; and made my incoherent noises. But then he pushed in and stayed; and he stretched me even more, because he was swelling even bigger. And I looked up into his face and I very clearly said: ‘Yes, Billy!”

“Sometimes, I can’t feel it when you come inside me. Sometimes I can feel you swell up and jerk and shiver. But THIS! Oh, this I could feel! The hot liquid hit the insides of my channel and my cervix and my womb and whatever the hell else there is in there. I felt every hot liquid squirt as if it was fired from a cannon. He strained and pushed and shivered, and I held him tightly until he had finished … and then when he finally stopped, I just went on holding him. After a long time, he rolled off of me toward the couch’s back, and he pushed me so that, for a moment, I thought I might fall off. But his big arm was around me, so there was no way I was going to topple over the edge. My back was to him again.

“And he said: ‘Cor, Riya. Please tell me y’ wanted that.’

“And I said: ‘Um ….’

“And he said: ‘Ah God! Wadda I gone and done?!’

“I stroked his arm affectionately. ‘You did what came naturally, I guess. I should have known, Billy. It was my fault. I never realized that … that you wanted me like that.’

“’Wanted you? I’ve wanted y’ since the day I met y’, girl!’

“I sighed. I didn’t want to hurt him, but anything other than the truth would be worse. ‘But you don’t love me, Billy. You might have wanted me … this way; but you can’t love me. I belong to him. I LOVE him. I’ll ALWAYS love him … and only him. I think … I think that I’ve wanted this, too, a little. Being with you this way. I like you, Billy. I like you a lot. But … but now, we have to make a promise. Two promises.’ He didn’t answer that, so I went on. ‘First, we have to promise each other that we’ll never, ever do this again. As much as … as we might want to … this was the only time, okay?’ Once again, he made no sound, and so once again I continued. ‘And secondly, we can’t have any secrets. Secrets can kill a friendship, and I won’t allow that to happen. And so, we have to promise that to THEM, too. Okay, Billy?’

“And finally he spoke. ‘Them?’

“’Tony and Betty,’ I explained.

“’Betty!? I … I only just met Betty!’

“I stroked his arm again. ‘And you couldn’t tell? You couldn’t tell that she’s … interested in you?”

“’What … ‘ya think?’

“I laughed. ‘Yes. I think.’

“’G ‘wan!’

“I tried to look back over my shoulder at him. ‘Really! I swear. She’s my best friend, and I can read her like a book! She really, really likes you! And I could read YOU, too. I think you … rather fancy her.’ I tried to sound British and failed. He was quiet for awhile after that, and I assumed he was thinking hard about it. ‘But you’d better not hurt her, Billy. She’s delicate, fragile … shy.’

“He shifted against me. His cock was stiffening again against my butt, and I suddenly realized it was because he was thinking about HER. ‘Fancy ‘er!’ he repeated disgustedly. ‘A COURSE I fancy ‘er! But a totty like ‘er and ME?!’ He was quiet again for a long time. ‘So … um … how do I handle ‘er?’

“That made me laugh. I stroked his arm again. ‘Poor boy! I’ve created a beast, haven’t I?’ I giggled suddenly at the thought. ‘Billy the Beast!’ But he obviously wasn’t amused at the moniker. I sighed. ‘Just be yourself, Billy. Don’t come on strong … and DON’T attack her! If she wants you to be strong, then she’ll let you know. Just wait for it. When she gives you the signal that she wants you to be more … physical, you’ll know it. I promise.’

“He sighed, but his erection didn’t diminish. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Agreed.’ He was silent for many seconds. ‘Guess we should get up.’

“I smiled. ‘Okay, then,’ I told him. ‘But … maybe we could stay like this … just for a few more minutes. This is nice. And then … never again. Right?’

“I felt him nodding against my shoulder. He held me, and I relaxed in his arms. Oh my gosh, what a night! At least I had gotten past the worst part of it. I took a deep breath and relaxed even more. And suddenly, I opened my eyes and YOU were there! You and Betty! Right in front of us! Had I been asleep? Oh no! We’d fallen asleep like that … naked on the couch! I tried to cover myself with my hands before realizing how stupid that was. Betty had seen me naked before … lots of times; from high school gym class in the showers to trying on dresses together. YOU had obviously seen me naked. Why try to hide? Oh, gosh, how embarrassing! And Betty blushed beet red and turned away … not because I was naked, but because HE was!”

And that’s what I told Tony, sitting there in the hot tub, nude, with that ring on my finger, sparkling like the brightest star in the universe. He had moved once or twice during my narration; to turn the jets in the Jacuzzi down to a soft bubbling, so that he could hear me better; and he held me closer to him, which I didn’t resist; and he brushed his fingertips across my erect nipples; and then later, he slid a hand gently up my thigh.

When I had finally finished, I took stock of how we were sitting, and glancing down, I said: “I KNEW it, Tony! You just wanted me to tell you all that so you could get turned on! You’re hard as a rock!”

He slid the hand just a little bit farther up my thigh, and suddenly his finger was in my slick pussy. “And you, too, my darling. You’re sopping wet.”

I couldn’t help but jerk and shiver at the contact. “Of … of COURSE I’m wet, you fool! I’m in a hot tub!” But we both knew better. I was slippery-oily-gooey inside.

He pulled the finger out of me, and I made a little noise in the back of my throat in protest. But then, he turned toward me and grasped me by the backs of my knees, lifting me up and spinning me over him so that my legs were astraddle him. He scooted his butt forward on the built-in plastic bench and leaned back so that his fleshy rod was lined up with my opening. I started to fight him, putting my hands on his shoulders; but then I felt him entering me. He was sooo long and sooo hard, but he slipped right in, and up and up and up into me. I felt clean and sexy and feminine. But how could I feel that way and be so slimy-slick inside? And at last, we were completely joined. We … fit.

Let me tell you how we fit. Physically, we fit like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, when part of one piece goes flawlessly into the other. Tight. Secure. Perfect. Emotionally, I fit inside of him … all of me, flowing naturally and effortlessly into his protective, loving strength. I was part of him, wholly contained. And as for our souls; they were like the smoke from two fires, rising above the earth and mingling into a single plume.

He thrust into me; once, twice, again and again. The ridge of his pubis was grinding against my clitoris with each plunge of his cock. I was beginning to build, up and up. He was swelling inside me. And with each fervent thrust, he would grind against me. My muscles began to tighten and strain. Remember my orgasm types? This one was going to be “The Explosion,” no doubt about it. This was going to be one of the big ones. Almost there. Almost there.

And just as I was reaching that magical instant when anticipation turned into inevitability, he leaned forward and whispered into my ear: “Answer me!”

And my vagina gave its first twitch and spasm. And I said “W … w … what?”

And he breathed directly into my ear: “Will you marry me, Riya?”

So anyway, what happens during “The Explosion” is: all of my muscles are straining, straining, tighter and tighter, like rubber bands that have been stretched much, much too far. And then suddenly, my body goes “boom!” and all of those muscles break free. But at the same instant, another set of muscles clench and strain. And I don’t know … maybe they’re actually the same muscles … but that’s what it feels like. And so:

Boom! And I threw my head back and screamed “YES!” at the top of my lungs.

(And … pardon me for taking time out for a quick geography lesson at this most auspicious point in my story. But …. The house rose two stories on either side of us, forming a sort of convoluted “V” in front of me. And beyond us, behind me as I sat on his lap, past the tub and the pool … the grassy yard slopped gently down and down to a little creek. And beyond that creek, a hill rose sharp and steep; so steep that in some places, vegetation wouldn’t grow, and red clay soil showed through. I only tell you this to explain the acoustics.)

And now, all my muscles were straining to the point of cramps; my fingers digging into his shoulders, my arms trying to crush him, my legs clenched and my knees digging into the sides of his buttocks, and even my toes were gripping and tight. I couldn’t even breathe. And he was straining, too; his arms squeezing me hard; his cock jerking and twitching inside me. And both of our heads were thrown back, staring into the starry heavens. The crickets and cicadas were silent for a moment, probably because of my scream. And the only sounds were the gentle bubbling of the tub … and my unintended answer coming back to us over and over.

“YES! … Yes! … Yes! … yes! … yes … yes”

TO BE CONTINUED