4 comments/ 47869 views/ 4 favorites Who Can it Be? By: astuffedshirt_perv "Who could that be," Tia wondered as the doorbell of her condo rang. She had arrived home late. Although it was a Friday, she had no party to go to tonight and had decided to stay extra long at the office to catch up on some paperwork. She had only managed to hang up her blazer, kick off her shoes and toss her pantyhose into the hamper. Dinner was next on the agenda. The bell repeated itself, and Tia snuck through her darkened living room to peek out the peephole. It was Jack. Tia's heart fluttered as she called out, quickly re-tucked her silk blouse into her office skirt and checked herself in the mirror. She unlocked the door to see Jack leaning against the doorframe with a smile. Another guy was with him. "Hey," Jack smiled at her. "Hey," she echoed with a smile. "Listen, I didn't have anything to do and thought we could come over and hang out." The other guy held up a six-pack. "Sure," she agreed. "Tia, this is Matt," Jack said. "You cool with this?" "Yeah, sure," she said, shaking Matt's hand and holding the door open for them. Jack smiled at her as he handed her his jacket. He had known Tia for over four years, back when they were both new to the area, and she was his former girlfriend's roommate from back then. Since then he had helped her move, helped her with her car, helped her move again, and flirted with her when they ran into each other. She had confided in him during a difficult breakup. Although there had been some electricity between them, one or the other, usually both, had been unavailable. He had never come over like this, though, and she was excited to see him, wondering what had motivated him. Jack stood about a head taller than her, jet-black hair, mischievous brown eyes and what she had always considered a sensuous mouth. She even found the scar on his chin enticingly manly. Jack kept his eyes on her for a bit too long. He knew what he had in mind, and was deeply curious what would happen. He wondered if his crazy plan would work out. He had always liked her, not in a girlfriend sense really, but still he was interested. She was about 5'3", light brown hair, medium chest, cute, with an infectious laugh. She seemed to be warm to him, and he knew she was between boyfriends for the past few months. Matt gave her his jacket also, and Jack turned on the TV. Matt sat on the small sofa and Jack took the armchair on the side. Tia sat next to Matt and they made small talk for a while before ordering pizza for dinner. Jack couldn't keep his eyes off her, and she was keenly aware of his interest. After eating, Tia rose to clean up, and Jack carried the empty soda cans into the kitchen. She put the forgotten six-pack in the fridge to cool, tossed a bag of popcorn in the microwave and got out some glasses, ice and a 2-liter as Jack stood by and watched her. "So what's up?" she asked. "I hadn't seen Matt around before." "No, he's an old college buddy just up for the weekend. You like him?" Tia shrugged and turned the microwave. "He's kinda cute, I guess." "Well, I thought you and me and him could...you know." Tia froze and turned slowly to him. "What?" she said coldly. "You know," Jack said, smiling, with a nudge of his chin. "That better not be the 'you know' that I think you're thinking of." "Yup." "Jack, what the fuck? What made you think I would do something like that?" Tia asked incredulously. "Nothing. I just thought you might be interested," he shrugged, still smiling, his eyes twinkling lasciviously. "Jack, no! Hell no!" Jack continued to smile at her, and she turned to pull the popcorn out. "I can't believe you think of me like that!" "Com'on, babe, I know you've felt the sparks between you and me. I know you want me, and I want you." "You and me, okay, let's get rid of him, but fuck, no way." "No," he smiled with his arms crossed and shook his head. Tia stared at him. "No? You rather leave this if you can't?" she asked, motioning her hand down her body. "Yup." "No. Jack, no." "Com'on babe, no one will ever know. You know I never told anyone about our discussion when you broke up with Frank. Matt flies back east Sunday. He won't talk. I even parked in the upper lot. I'll make sure nothing gets out of hand." "You really thought I would!" she gaped at him. "I hoped." "Jack," she complained, "Seriously, no! I'm not that kinda girl." "Alright," Jack shrugged, still smiling, "It's cool. It's your decision. I just thought you'd be interested." "Well, you thought wrong," she glared at his smile for a few moments. "Your toes are cute," he grinned glancing down. Tia instinctively curled her toes as if to hide them. "Leave my toes out of this," she frowned with a grin. "You still cool with us hanging out?" he asked as he picked up the glasses and the 2-liter. "Yeah," she sighed. "Cool. That way if you change your mind," he winked. Tia shook her head in disgust as she took the popcorn and followed him out. "Holy shit," she hissed, stopping, "how am I going to go back out there and face him?" "Cause it would look strange for you to stay in here," he laughed over his shoulder. Tia glowered at his back as he left. She followed him out, blushing furiously as she saw the back of Matt's head. The TV provided the only light in the room and she consoled herself that he couldn't see her blush. Jack put the glasses down while standing in front of his chair, leaving the cushion next to Matt as the only spot for her. She glared at Jack again and sat down next to Matt, but as far away as possible. Jack waited until she sat to move next to her. "Move over," he said, nudging her leg. The sofa could sit three small girls comfortably, but it would be a little tight with the three of them. "Sit in the chair." "No, you can't see the TV from there. Move your pretty ass over." Tia scowled at him and scooted over, leaving a fair gap between her and Matt. Jack squeezed in and nudged her closer. Tia glanced at him. She was now sandwiched between two guys who had come over to have sex with her. The room crackled with sexual tension. She snuck a glance at Matt, who was staring at the TV. He seemed cute enough. He was a little shorter than Jack, but a lot wider in the shoulders. His arms looked kinda big, and he looked thin enough that he might be sporting a six-pack. Light brown short hair, not bad. She leaned back between them, shoulder to shoulder, her nerves on edge. Jack said it was okay not to do anything, but would Matt think the game was still on? What would she do if he leaned into her? They bought a PPV and settled in, the popcorn sitting in her lap. Every movement Matt made caused her heart to jump. Unbidden visions of the two of them moving in on her started to creep into her head. This was something she had never ever thought of doing. She slipped another sidelong glance at Matt. And yet... Time slipped by and she caught herself spreading her legs unconsciously as he reached in for a handful. The movie ended without incident and Matt had done nothing more alarming than take popcorn out of the bag in her lap. She wondered if he thought she wasn't pretty. The thought grated on her. If she had been warned, she could have put on some makeup or dressed a little more provocatively. There was no way she was going to do anything like Jack had suggested, but it would be nice if Matt would at least show some interest. He could at least respect her enough to give her the opportunity to say no. Matt asked if he could use the restroom and she pointed it out to him and he walked out. Tia picked up the empty popcorn bag and walked out with a cold glance at Jack. Jack grinned at her and followed her to the kitchen. "Well, looks like your little plan failed." "How's that?" "Your boy Matt isn't interested." "What makes you think that?" She smirked at him. "A guy comes over for a threesome and then doesn't even touch me? He's not interested." "He didn't come over for a threesome." "What?" "I told you, it's all your choice. He has no idea." "What?" Jack just shrugged. "So what the fuck? You thought I was going to seduce him or something? What, you want me to do a strip tease? What kind of male fantasy were you thinking of?" "Well, it's a fantasy of mine." Tia slapped him. "I should have done that when you walked in," she snapped. Jack glared her for a shocked instant and then lunged, grabbing the hand she had slapped him with and pulling her close in an aggressive hug. "What the fuck, T?" he demanded angrily. Tia looked up had him helplessly and suddenly was completely aware of how badly she wanted him. "I just thought you'd be interested. So I'm an idiot. So I'm a fuck-head. I said it was cool if you weren't into it. There's no call to get violent." He roughly pushed her away and rubbed his cheek. Tia stared at him for a moment. "I'm...sorry," she offered. "Forget it," he snapped and stalked off to the restroom. Tia stood alone in the kitchen, badly shaken. After all they had been through, he seemed really hurt by her. "He's just a guy," she thought, "he probably believed it was a good idea." Tia walked out and sat down by Matt, lost in thought. Jack smiled at himself in the bathroom mirror. "Now or never," he smiled. If she didn't kick them out, it was on. Now all that had to happen was for Matt to react like a guy. Tia looked up hopefully as Jack returned. He ignored her and sat back in the armchair. "You can sit here," she offered timidly, patting the cushion next to her. Jack looked at her with a smile and came over to join her on the sofa. He patted her knee and looked back to the TV. Tia smiled at him and made her decision. She would do it. She would do it for him. She looked at Matt for a moment as butterflies filled her stomach. This was crazy, she thought as she licked her lips nervously. She looked at Jack, smiling knowingly at her and he nudged his chin at her. She looked back at Matt and stared at him until he turned to her. She suddenly realized she had never initiated a first kiss. She quickly leaned into him, placing a hand on the back of his head as she kissed him. Her tongue split his surprised lips and danced with his for a moment. He pulled away. "Yo," he said. Tia eyes widened and the smile vanished from her face as she saw the shock on his face. "Oh my God," she said and jumped up, covering her mouth in embarrassment. "Oh my God," she repeated as she ran back to her bedroom, mortified at his reaction. She slammed her door and went into her closet and hid her face in her hands, shaking in humiliation. Jack turned back from watching her departure. "Yo?" he asked Matt. "She kissed me!" "And 'Yo' was the best you could come up with?" Matt looked back to the hallway. "I didn't expect it," he tried to apologize. "Yo?" Matt looked at him. "You think I should go back there?" "I think you have to go back there." "What should I say?" "Well, if 'Yo' is all you got, I would recommend more kissing and less talking." Matt stood and looked down the hallway. He glanced at Jack and walked back. He had to tell her it was okay. Matt knocked softly on her door. "Tia, you there?" Tia continued to hide silently in her closet. Eventually Matt opened her door and called to her from inside the room. "Go away," she said from her closet. Matt quickly found her and sat next to her and tried to explain that he was just surprised. He finally coaxed her out of her closet. She was keeping her head down, so he decided against trying to kiss her and instead hugged her for a moment. She returned it lightly, her head awash in conflicting emotions of lust, embarrassment and propriety. "We should probably go back out there," she said Matt agreed and led her back out to the TV. They silently took their familiar places on the sofa, Tia glancing nervously at Jack, brushing her hair back as she sat. After a few minutes of watching the TV in silence, Jack leaned over and kissed her long and hard. Tia melted into him. He broke the kiss and sat back, still facing her. "Yo," Tia whimpered, eyes half closed. "Yo," Matt echoed, stunned at the turn of events. Jack nudged her, and she turned to Matt and kissed him again. This time Matt responded eagerly. Tia finally broke the kiss and sat back between her two men. "I've never done anything like this," she whispered, hands in her lap as she glanced at Jack and then Matt. "Me either," Matt said. "Me either," Jack echoed. Jack slowly reached over and cupped Tia's breast, kneading it gently. Tia sat up rigidly, staring at his hand in shock. Matt reached over and cupped her other breast, and her eyes snapped to him. "Oh my God," she squeaked. They continued to caress her breasts, thumbs rubbing her nipples as her eyes went from one to the other. She was completely turned on. Jack pulled back for a moment to whip off his t-shirt, and Matt followed suit. Jack took her arm and put it over his shoulder as he settled back in to fondle her breast. Matt placed her other arm over his shoulder, and she found herself wedged deeply between them, completely helpless. She watched as their hands played with her, breathless in arousal. "Kiss me," she begged. Matt was ready to oblige, but Jack stopped him. "No. No kisses until you are naked." "Oh," Tia panted disappointedly as she stared at his smile. Jack's hand drifted up and undid the top button of her blouse before returning to her breast. Moments later, Matt followed suit. Tia squirmed as she watched them work, her hands holding on to their shoulders, completely at their tender mercies. "If you want us to stop, just tell us," Jack breathed. "We'll stop." "Don't stop," she pleaded. Jack smiled and undid another button, with Matt following suit and opening the last one. They tugged the blouse out of her skirt and opened it full, displaying her bra, and Jack swore reverently as it was revealed. Tia's breathing became even more ragged as they started to stroke her skin and her silky bra. Jack noticed her bra had a front clasp and opened the it. Suddenly her bra was hanging loosely over her breasts. Tia watched as two hands slid up under her bra and cupped her bare breasts, gasping as they started to roll her nipples. Jack leaned in and Tia tried to capture him in a kiss, but he avoided it and instead started to lick and kiss her neck. Matt followed and she groaned at the feeling. "Don't give her a hickey," Jack warned. "I want her skin clear." Matt shrugged and went back to kissing her neck. Jack slid down and sucked her nipple into his mouth, with Matt only a second behind. Tia struggled in helpless ecstasy at the pleasure. Matt was noticeably rougher, nibbling and tugging on her nipples. With his hand free, Matt slid his hand down to her knee and started stroking her thigh. She spread her legs a little and Jack started stroking her other thigh. Jack worked his other hand behind her back and found the zipper to her skirt. She raised her hips as best she could and soon her skirt slipped down past her knees and fell to the floor. "Holy shit!" Matt laughed. "What are those?" Jack asked with a grin. Tia looked down and realized they were making fun of her granny panties. She tried to cross her legs in embarrassment. "They're my work underwear!" "Jeez, I've only seen those in 60's movies!" "It's like a museum piece!"
 "Stop it," she complained. "How do you get those things off?" Matt asked, tugging at it. "Do you need a key?" Jack asked with a smirk. "No, just pull them off," she squealed. "They're absolutely huge!" "Guys!" she squirmed, still wedged tightly between them as they ignored her and continued to marvel at her choice of undergarments. "I think the old lady across the used to hang things like out to dry." "They don't even have a pattern on them!" Tia leaned back and groaned, kicking her feet in embarrassment. Jack reached down and stroked her gently between her legs and she jumped. "Well, I'm pretty intimidated," Jack said, returning his hand to fondle her breast. "Me too," Matt agreed, slipping his hand to her crotch and starting to stroke her. "Do you want to try and get them off?" "How about we play rock, paper, scissors to see who has to try first." "Guys, please!" "Okay." Matt won on the second throw. He slid off the sofa to his knees, freeing Tia's arm. She quickly reached down to cover herself. "See?" he said as he gathered the waistband and pretended to pull, "They have like a build-in protection mechanism!" "Amazing!" Jack exclaimed before leaning forward to capture a nipple in his mouth. Tia gasped in pleasure as she continued to try and cover herself. "Maybe we should bend her over," "If you think it will help," Jack agreed, scooping her up and depositing her upside down over the arm of the sofa. Tia found her face jammed into Jack's lap, his obvious erection against her cheek as he pulled her bra and blouse off. Hands free, she immediately tried to cover her upturned ass. Jack reached out and pulled her hands up to her back. "Dude, you have to see this," Matt said from behind her. Jack got up and looked. "Those things are enormous," he breathed as Tia squealed in embarrassed laughter. "See if you can get them off." Tia felt Matt's hands grab her panties and slowly pull them down. The jokes suddenly stopped and the room fell silent, punctuated only by the sounds of their ragged breathing. "Wow," she heard as hands started to roam her bottom and between her legs. Tia moaned in pleasure. Jack sat back down above her head and pulled her up to him, flipping her back onto her back. Taking firm possession of her face, he looked at her for a moment before kissing her. Tia dove in with him. Moments later she felt a trail of fire work it's way up calf to her knee, and then slowly up her thigh as Matt kissed his way up her leg. Tia moaned wildly. Oral sex had always blown her mind, so much so that she couldn't even 69 with her boyfriends, she always got too distracted. Matt's tongue softly started licking her clit and she jumped, pushing down on his head with her free hand. After a few moments she started to thrash about in ecstasy, and Jack broke their kiss and took firm possession of her face again. "Look at me," he demanded. Tia tried to force her eyes open as Matt tongued her pussy. Jack drank in the wild pleasure in her face, her massively dilated pupils in eyes that couldn't focus. "Look at me," he demanded again, and Tia struggled to comply, gasping for air as she writhed on Matt's tongue. "Matt," Jack said, "My turn." Tia lay gasping as the two switched places. Matt gathered her arms and started to kiss her as Jack licked his way up her leg. With her arms captured, her pussy was left completely defenseless to Jack's assault, and she bucked violently as Jack gripped her hips and started to softly lick her. Matt stayed in the kiss even after Tia lost any ability to reciprocate. Jack's tongue worked her expertly, and after just a few minutes he slid a finger into her. A massive orgasm immediately washed over her, screaming into Matt's mouth. Her hands still trapped, she was powerless to push Jack away, and he continued to lick her for a few more moments. "Let's take her back to the bedroom," Jack said, getting up. Matt scooped her limp body up into his arms and quickly carried her back to her room, where he dropped her on her queen-sized bed. "Who goes first?" Matt asked. Tia sat up and reached out to both of them, fumbling with their waistbands, trying to free the enormous bulges they were sporting. Jack realized this wasn't going to work. "You go first," he said and went to lean on her dresser. Who Can It Be Now? The house is in a suburban neighborhood, one of the upper-middle class areas which somehow still manages to have an irrational fear of urban street crime. Hence, the bars on the windows do not attract an overly large amount of attention. However, the house has still developed into something of a legend among the children of the neighborhood; they speak of it as being haunted, or abandoned, or home to smugglers or pirates or whatever else occupies their attention that week. The sign on the door reads, in simple hand-printed letters, "NO SOLICITORS", and it has been effective--although the age of the door-to-door salesman is dying out, and it is difficult to say just how many people it has deterred. The door, once opened, leads to a small foyer with another interior door; this, too, has a lock on it. One begins to detect the faintest tinge of paranoia, the whiff of isolation left too long and grown wild and tangled, like ivy digging its roots into a long-abandoned building. Five years ago, Danielle would not have been able to achieve this. She would not have been able to take a job that exclusively involved telecommuting, and she would not have been able to pay her grocery bills over the Internet. She would have had to leave the house to run errands, or perhaps work out, and that would have left her vulnerable. Endangered. As it is, though, she knows she is safe. She occupies her time with small things. Knitting. Jigsaw puzzles. Rarely television; she occasionally indulges, but the thought that a signal might be pumped into her house worries her, and so she prefers to read books. She is not entirely happy, but she is safe. She is certain she is safe. And then someone knocks on the door, and the rush of panic comes back like it never left, and she flees the living room, not daring to look out the window for fear of catching someone's eye (being caught in someone's eyes, she mentally amends it to.) She runs into the bedroom, and cowers in the corner, and as the knocking continues, slow, measured, and insistent, she remembers... ***** "Hello, Ms. Stewart. My name is Danielle Spencer; I'm here about the 'personal assistant' job. I saw the ad in the paper." She felt confident as she smiled at the woman she hoped would be her boss, and resisted the urge to pat her hair to make sure that it was still in the bun she'd put it up into before coming here. She knew that she projected a good image--the Young Executive, fresh out of the package, complete with all the accessories. The lame joke suddenly blossomed into a mental image of herself in a box, with "Kung-Fu Grip!" written on it, and she suppressed the urge to giggle. It'd be inappropriate, she thought, which was probably why my mind did it. Some weird stress reaction. Clara Stewart looked at her appraisingly. Danielle fought down the sensation of indignation; she knew that there was undoubtedly more to the gaze than judging her like a piece of meat. It was just in her imagination. "I see. Then I'll be straight with you right from the beginning. It's a demanding job. I'm a demanding woman. I got to the top of this company through uncompromising dedication and ruthlessness, and I expect you to give everything you have to me. If you can do that, you'll be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. If you can't, I expect you to look for another job. Your friends, your family, your relationships are all going to have to be put on the back burner. I'm going to become the most important thing in your life. Are we clear?" Afterward, long afterward, Danielle wondered if there wasn't something she did in that moment that sealed her fate. Perhaps a twitch of the eyelid, a flinch of the shoulders, some unspoken signal in how she responded to that speech that made Ms. Stewart decide that she was the one. Perhaps there was nothing. Either way, her response undoubtedly clinched the notion. "That won't be a problem, Ms. Stewart. I just moved to Los Angeles. I haven't had time to make friends yet, and I haven't been in touch with my family for years. I can devote my full time to doing whatever you need done." Clara smiled. "Perfect." She gestured to a padded chair. "Take a seat. I'd like to test you on a few elementary business skills before I decide." She sat down in a chair across from Danielle, the desk separating them. "One of your primary duties as my assistant will be to transcribe my important meetings. I want to see how good you are at taking notes of conversation." She gestured to a pen and a tablet of paper. "So I'm going to start talking, and you're going to write down every word I say." Danielle picked up the pen and paper. "Ready, Ms. Stewart." "Good," Clara said. Danielle quickly jotted down the single word, but when Clara sighed, a sinking feeling took up residence in her stomach. "No," Clara said, and Danielle took care to continue writing even as she was being lectured. It never hurt to impress the boss with dedication under fire. "You've obviously had very little experience taking dictation before. You write with your hand, but with your eyes, you watch my face." Danielle immediately looked up. "You watch my lips as they form the words, and you let your hand just write automatically. You just let the hand continue to write as you watch my lips very closely, picking up each word as I speak. The words just flow through your brain straight through to your hand. After a while, you won't even think about the words, you'll just let them flow straight through to your hand and write them down. They'll just go straight through your head, from my lips to your hand, from my mouth to your actions, and you won't have to think of a thing. "But you must also learn to pace yourself. You must learn that when I speak very fast, your hand will get tired. Your hand will get tired and exhausted from writing so fast, and it will feel so tired, so weary, so exhausted." Suddenly, Clara let out a wide yawn, and Danielle found herself yawning in return. "I'm sorry," Clara said, "but talking about being tired has made me feel sleepy. Very sleepy. I feel very sleepy. I'm feeling so sleepy, but I'm still talking, and you're writing the words 'I'm sleepy' with your tired, tired, hand. If I repeat them, you'll write them again, over and over, and over...I'm sleepy, I'm sleepy, I'm sleepy..." She yawned again. Danielle yawned back. "I'm sorry to keep yawning. I know that yawns are contagious. That when you see a person yawn, you want to yawn too. It's a proven fact. Seeing a sleepy person makes you sleepy too. You're writing down 'I'm sleepy' with your tired, tired hand, and you're watching me yawn sleepily, and now you're probably yawning without any help from me." Danielle tried not to yawn; it was rude. But she was so sleepy all of a sudden, and she couldn't help herself. "And now you're probably having trouble watching my mouth, watching my lips as your eyes get so sleepy, and your eyelids start to droop, and you keep writing as I say 'I'm sleepy', 'I'm sleepy', 'I'm sleepy', and it's so hard to control the pen with your tired, tired hand, and so hard to see my lips with your droopy, sleepy eyes, and now you're finding that if you just close your eyes, you can just hear my words in your head and picture my lips in your mind and you can sleep and keep writing and the words just keep flowing, from my lips to your actions, from my mind to your body, and now you're having so much trouble writing with your tired, tired hand that the pen falls from your hand, and now you can't write, so you have to act out whatever I say, letting it flow from my mind to your sleepy sleepy body, just acting on my words, not thinking at all, letting your mind shut down as your body acts out my words, just drifting comfortably as you relax and act out my words, picturing my lips telling you what to do..." Danielle was sprawled in the chair now, her head lolling back into the padded headrest, her legs slightly spread, her arms limp at her sides, the pen and paper dropped to the floor and forgotten. She was smiling faintly. "Danielle," Clara said, "you're going to let your hair down now. You're going to let your hair down out of its bun, let the hair free, because you don't want it bound up tightly, you want to let it flow down, loose, relaxed, just like you are right now, loose, relaxed, obedient..." Danielle reached up slowly and unsteadily and freed her honey-blonde hair, letting it fall down over her shoulders. "Very good, Danielle!" Clara said. "You're making me so happy, now, and you know that's good. You know you want this job. You want to be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. And that means making me the most important thing in your life. The most important thing. The most important thing." Danielle nodded muzzily, never opening her eyes. "I'm giving you the job, Danielle. You have the job. So that means that I'm the most important thing to you. It means you give everything to me. Everything. Everything." Danielle nodded again, and this time her head fell forward onto her chest. "Good..." "Now, let's take off those clothes." ***** The knocking continues. Danielle puts her hands to her ears to block it out, wondering if it's perhaps some new form of induction. Perhaps the knock is meant to be like the tick of a metronome, slowly taking her deeper, relaxing her... It's not working, she thinks wildly. I've never been more panicked. I can't breathe, ogod I can't breathe... She begins questioning her judgment. Perhaps it's just a Girl Scout who's too young to know what "NO SOLICITORS" means, or a Jehovah's Witness who thinks that it doesn't apply to them. Perhaps it's the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, come to give her a giant novelty check. She should go and check. She will go and check. She's going. Right now. Her legs don't move. She rocks gently back and forth in the corner. She wishes now that she hadn't put her hands to her ears. It brings the tattoo on her wrist into full view. ***** "...and awake. Good girl." Danielle opened her eyes. She began to take in details, in an order that seemed almost random. She was naked. She was strapped to a padded table, in a room she didn't recognize. She didn't know where she was. Her pubic hair had been completely shaved. There was a tattoo on her left wrist, just beneath her hand--it was an image of a blue butterfly, heavily stylized. Ms. Stewart was standing over her. She was naked too. She began to take in more details. There were other people in the background, both men and women. They were all naked. They were all kneeling on the floor with their hands on their head. She was becoming gradually aware of a soreness between her thighs, of an indefinable taste in her mouth. Panic started to well up in her. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. "Hello, danielle," Ms. Stewart said. danielle didn't know how, but she could hear that there wasn't a capital letter there anymore. "I know you must have lots of questions. Don't worry; your subconscious mind knows all the answers. But you can ask anyway. This is a good time for it." "What are you doing to me?" danielle asked. Ms. Stewart smiled. "I'm making you into my slavegirl. I liked your body when you came in, you seemed bright and adaptable--you should be proud, dear. It takes an intelligent person to be susceptible to hypnosis--and so I decided that I was going to make you into a good little slut, just like all my other employees. I put you under, and you performed remarkably. Then I tested out your body. you licked pussy very well, by the way, for someone with no training. I'm sure that once one of my other slaves trains you, you'll be my favorite rug-muncher in the whole stable." "Why?" danielle moaned out. "Why?" Ms. Stewart smiled. "Because I wanted to. Because I'm used to getting what I want. Ultimately, perhaps, because I can. The simple act of taking possession of you, body, mind and soul, is an incredible rush. It comes from knowing that you didn't know what hit you; that you submitted to your natural superior easily and naturally; it comes from knowing that I have power over you. Complete, total power." She reached down and caressed danielle's breasts like a car owner running their hand over the hood of the new model. "I'm sure that thrills you now on some level." "But i'm awake now," danielle said. "i can fight it now." she was uncomfortably aware that she could hear the lack of a capital letter in her own voice too. "i can fight it..." Ms. Stewart laughed. "Silly girl," she said. "I brought you out of it so that you would fight it. I want you to fight it." "But..." danielle furrowed her brow in confusion. "It's like fishing. You let the fish swim and swim, because you know that you have the hook in its jaw. Eventually, it will swim closer, and you just keep reeling it in, until it has noplace to go at all but into your net..." "No," danielle said, pulling against her straps. "Actually," Ms. Stewart said, placing a hand on danielle's stomach and leaning over her, "it's like breaking in a new horse. You can't just ride it a little and put it into the stable." danielle pulled at the bonds, but there was no give to them. "You ride it until it's totally exhausted." danielle kept struggling. The bonds had to break sometime. "You just let it go, let it buck and kick and struggle, and you just stay there, on top of it, letting it know that you're in charge, that you're in control, that you're the one who will make the decisions." danielle still struggled, but she found her eyes locking with Ms. Stewart's. "You give it its head, and let it keep going until it tires itself out. You let it exhaust its muscles in fruitless struggles, and as it gets tireder and tireder, it knows that I am the one who controls it." danielle knew she should stop struggling, knew it was playing right into Ms. Stewart's hands, but panic was taking over, and she pulled and yanked and twisted and writhed against the unyielding bonds, knowing that her arms and legs were getting heavy and leaden, but not able to give it up yet... "And the struggles get weaker and weaker, and soon you give up. Soon you want to be controlled. you want to be ridden. you know that the person on top of you is in charge, and that I will take the reins. your heavy arms and heavy legs give way to a heavy mind, and you can be led around, docile, obedient, right into the stable where you belong." danielle's eyelids were fluttering again, and her body was barely moving...she was so exhausted now... "you can see the stable now, can't you, danielle?" danielle's eyes slammed shut, and her mind was full of nothing but the images Mistress Stewart was describing... "then go into the stable...let yourself be led...let yourself be ridden..." danielle felt her mind dwindle away as she relaxed, her struggles finally, finally over, and she sank into the pleasure, the contentment of being ridden by her Mistress... And then Mistress woke her up, and did it again... ***** The knocking has finally stopped now, but that almost makes it worse. It's like being in a horror movie, Danielle thinks, that scene right before the end where the slasher's stopped trying to break down the door and the heroine's finally safe and that damned tinkly music is playing and she opens the door and goes outside and the sun's coming up and then she gets the knife! in! her! back! She tries to calm down. Her breathing finally steadies. After a while (thirty minutes, although she doesn't notice the passage of time), she manages to stand up. She walks out into the living room. She opens the inner door. There is an envelope on the floor, undoubtedly slipped through the mail slot. She opens it with unsteady fingers. She is terrified that it contains some hidden trigger-phrase that will put her under again. Perhaps it is another set of instructions. Perhaps she was never free at all; this was only a cover identity that her Mistress (mistress! her mind shouts) bade her establish for some arcane reason, and now it's time to take it all away. The envelope contains a single piece of paper. It has two sentences printed on it. YOU ARE STILL A SLAVE, it says at the top. YOU HAVE ONLY EXCHANGED MISTRESSES, it says at the bottom. Danielle stares at it for a long moment...and she knows. ***** It was the squirrel that finally freed her. Five years of complete and total servitude to her Mistress, of having her will totally broken, shaped, remolded, and shattered like glass, and all it took to free her was a squirrel. She would have laughed, if she wasn't overwhelmed with revulsion. She was on an errand for the Mistress at the time. Mistress was planning to acquire a financial company, and She wanted danielle to meet the CEO in a bar just before the Mistress talked with him. she was to seduce him, tease him, and leave him aroused and excited; Mistress was aware that the man had more willpower than most, and She wanted every edge She could get when breaking him to Her will. danielle was cutting through the park to save time, wishing that she didn't have to wear clothes to do this job, that she could be naked and ready for her Mistress, when she spotted the squirrel sitting on a rock. It was eating a peanut. Danielle was never sure what it was. It could have been the position it was in. It could have been the shape of the rock. Perhaps it was the sunlight shining through the trees, or the way the breeze blew into her face at that very moment. But a memory hit her. It blasted through the Mistress' control like a flood cresting over a dam, and sloshed into the front of her mind... She was seven. She was up north, at the cabin, and she'd sneaked away from Mom and Dad with a little bit of food; she was going to go play space explorer, or commando ranger, or frontier sheriff, or any one of a dozen games that she made up in her head to play because Barbie dolls were for sissies and Mom wouldn't buy her a G.I. Joe because it wasn't ladylike. She saw the squirrel sitting on the rock, and she shared a peanut with it, and it was like there was nobody in the whole world but her right then, and she felt like she'd never have to leave that spot, and... It was perfect. The moment passed. The squirrel ran. And Danielle sank to her knees, clawing at the mark on her wrist, trying to keep herself from vomiting. It didn't work. She threw up over and over and over, emptying her stomach until at last, she dry-heaved a final time and sobbed. Eventually, though, fear overwhelmed the mixture of shame and disgust that had paralyzed her. She remembered fighting, and remembered that it didn't do any good. She couldn't go back. She had to run. Danielle composed herself--no point in running blindly, she'd be caught. Clara (not Mistress not Mistress) had people all over the city, and her control was extending. She had to be careful. She needed to do this right, and escape permanently. Her first stop was at an ATM. Clara had set her up with access to the central account; after all, it wasn't as though she was going to steal, right? She could feel hysterical laughter boiling up inside her, and repressed it as she transferred money into a private account that Clara had never bothered making her close--an old travel fund. She was saving for a honeymoon trip to Tijuana, optimistic that some nice young man would fall into her lap someday, and that it never hurt to be prepared. She was suddenly aware of how often she'd been fucked while Clara watched, for her amusement, and she fought down the urge to dry-heave again. Instead, she took a taxi to the airport, and booked a flight to Charlotte, North Carolina. It was on the opposite side of the country, and Danielle was sure that Clara had no subsidiaries there. Even as she flew, she was making further plans. No phone. Clara could hypnotize her over the phone, she'd seen it happen. No friends. If word got out where she was, Clara would come for her. A false name? A false identity? Could it be done? Not through government; even if people would believe her, they'd investigate...and that would seal their fates as well. She'd have to do it all on her own... Who Can It Be Now? She tried to keep from scratching at the tattoo. It didn't always work. ***** It is Danielle's first trip to LA since she left, five years ago, and it feels like she's trying on the dress she wore to the prom. It doesn't quite fit, it seems different...but the changes are more to her than to the city. She is not the person she was. She passes the spot where her old apartment building was; it is now the home of a Starbucks, and she revises her analogy. The world changes as much as the people that live in it. We all move on. We all let go of old memories. She walks into the steel-and-glass tower where Clara Stewart runs her empire from, and is mildly surprised when the security guards do not stop her. She is allowed to take the elevator all the way to the penthouse floor, and when she steps out, there is nobody at the receptionist's desk. She walks through into the office, and opens the hidden door in the bookshelf as though she had just been there the previous morning. She walks down the hallway, and finally comes to Clara's private rooms. Clara is sitting in her 'throne', with a slavegirl nuzzling her crotch, and a half-smile quirks her lips as she sees Danielle. She looks so...old, Danielle thinks. She was forty when I met her...she's only fifty now. But she looks...old... Aloud, she says, "I didn't think I'd be allowed to get this far." Clara's smile broadens. "The doors are always open here for you, danielle." She speaks with the same authority, as though she simply expects to see Danielle drop to her knees on the spot. She doesn't. "I came here because someone gave me a letter. I thought it might be from you." Clara nods. "It took me some time to find you, danielle, but I never gave up hope. you were my finest creation; you were utterly subservient, totally obedient, and your tongue was magnificent. I thought you might have died, but instead I found you hidden away in a prison made of fear, still thinking you were free. you had exchanged my gift of servitude for slavery to fear. I couldn't let you keep on that way. I knew you'd come back." Danielle nods. "I had to come back. You were right. I was still a slave. I'd gotten rid of one mistress, but I had picked up another. I wasn't free. I wasn't even alive. I was buried in that house, and until I stopped running, I could never be free." She stares Clara in the eye. "I'm not running now." Clara laughs. "you think you learned something in that little hut, danielle? you think that now you're a stronger person?" She shakes her head, but her eyes remain locked with Danielle's. "you will never be a strong person. you never were a strong person. I broke your will over, and over, and over, and over, and I can do it any time I wish. your mind knows this. It remembers the years of obedience, the ingrained habit of total submission to your Mistress. Like a path beaten into the ground, the tracks of obedience are worn into your mind, and you know that deep down, you want to walk them again...don't you?" Danielle walks closer. "I remember the years of obedience. And I remember that I'd gotten an apartment two weeks before I met you. I remember buying a coffee mug that morning, because there was a coffee shop on my way here that offered free refills, and I thought it was a good-luck charm. I remember spotting a guy in the lobby and trying to spot which box he grabbed his mail from so I could see which apartment he lived in. I remember seeing a little kid skateboarding and thinking that my child would never be allowed to do that without proper padding. I remember buying groceries, I remember feeding a squirrel in the woods and feeling strong and pure like an angel. "I remember that you took ten years of my life away from me." She is inches away now, and tears are streaming down her face. "And you gave back nothing but dust and ashes." Clara's eyes are narrowed now. She looks hurt, in an indefinable way. "I gave you pleasure; total joy, the feel of being complete in a way nobody would never understand save you...that meant nothing to you?" "Nothing at all. It wasn't a life. It wasn't a hope. It wasn't a future. It was just a fake. Just a lie. And that's the worst part, seeing it all now. That you actually thought it meant something. That you actually think that any of this--" she made a sweeping gesture to the rest of the harem-- "means anything to anyone. These people don't love you. They don't choose to be like this. You're keeping them here against their will, and making them mouth pretty noises so that it doesn't bother your conscience." She shakes her head. "You're a slave too, Clara. A slave to power. And I don't think you'll ever be able to break free." She turns to leave. Clara grabs her wrist, angry now. "It's not over, danielle. I can keep you here, I can break you again. As many times as it takes." "And I can break free again. As many times as it takes. You can knock me down, but I can get back up. That's life, Clara." She pulls her wrist free. There is no tattoo there. There never was. "You should try it some time." She turns and walks away. Clara sits in her room with her Barbie dolls, silent. ***** The squirrel is satiated. It runs away, and Danielle smiles. In an hour, she will return to her parents, but for now...there is nobody in the world but her. THE END Who Can it Be? Tia glanced longingly at him before focusing on Matt's jeans. She got them open and smiled at his cock; he was well hung, at least 7". She got on all fours and eagerly started sucking him. Jack watched her head bob on Matt's cock as he slipped out of his shoes. This was every bit the fantasy he had in mind. He moved to the other side of the bed and pushed her knees apart before spreading her ass and savoring the unobstructed view of her cunt. Tia knew what he was doing and it embarrassed her to be displayed like that, but she was in no position to deny him. Jack slid a finger into her and started to finger fuck her, causing Tia to moan on Matt's cock. "Don't pop off," Jack warned. "I'm good," Matt groaned, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Tia continued to work on him as Jack fingered her. Suddenly Matt pushed her away and leaned forward, gasping. Tia quickly spun to attack Jack, who pulled his finger out of her pussy and shoved it into her mouth. Tia fumbled with his pants and she sucked her disgusting juices off his fingers, too aroused to care. His pants fell to the floor and he stepped out of them. She knew what to expect, having caught a glimpse years earlier when he was getting serviced by her then roommate, but smiled up at him in appreciation; he was also at least 7" and really thick—she couldn't even close her hand around him. She took him into her mouth and sucked him passionately. Jack reached down over her and fondled her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers as she worked on him. Matt had recovered a little and managed to get his pants completely off. He reached over and smacked Tia's ass. She didn't like being spanked and tried to bring a hand up to protect herself, but Jack's arms were in the way and she gave up. Taking this as approval, Matt proceeded to spank her, hard, and Tia yelped around Jack's dick with each slap. Jack continued to fondle her tits and watched as her ass started to redden from Matt's repeated slaps. When he could take it no longer, he pushed her away. Tia spun to suck Matt back into her mouth. Jack looked lustfully at the enticing red glow of Tia's ass and began to spank her himself. "I'm not going to last long," Matt warned. Jack merely nodded and slid a finger back into her and started to finger fuck her again. A few minutes later Matt warned that he was about to cum and Tia reached out to hold him in place as she sucked him over the edge. Matt exploded into her mouth as he screamed, finally pulling his spent cock out of her mouth. Tia leaned out for her bedside trashcan to spit, but Jack stopped her. "Swallow it," he said. Tia hated swallowing cum and froze in indecision. "Swallow it," Jack repeated, and she coughed it down. Tia turned back to Jack and took him into her mouth as Matt collapsed across the top of the bed. Jack took to fondling her breasts and stroking her back as she worked him. "You wanna fuck me?" "Later. You gonna swallow for me, baby?" Tia knew how much he wanted her to, so she purred a response with a nod. "You going to show me?" Tia nodded reluctantly and turned her attentions to making him cum. After a few minutes Jack warned her and then groaned as he came in her mouth, finally pushing her away. Tia showed him her mouth full of his seed and then swallowed, coughing at the bitter taste. Jack sat at the foot of the bed as Matt pulled her over and started to eat her pussy. Tia noticed he was hard again. "Wanna fuck?" "Yeah," he grunted and rose up over her. Tia guided him in and he wasted no time in starting to fuck her. Tia moaned as her head rolled around, holding on as he pumped into her. Her eyes fluttered open to lock with Jack's intense stare for a few moments. After a few minutes, Matt pulled out. "Your turn." Jack spun her around on the bed and threw one leg over his shoulder. He entered her and held her wrists over her head, her tits bouncing wildly as he screwed her, their eyes locked the whole time. Tia gave herself to him, moaning as he fucked her. She was getting close again. Jack pulled out and pushed her over to Matt. "Put her on top," Jack said. Matt lay on his back with his head at the foot of the bed and Tia mounted him, laying against his chest as she rocked on him. "Get up," Jack demanded. "Show your body." Matt pushed her up and then pulled her legs forward so she was squatting on him, holding her hands for balance. They could both see her body as she rode Matt's cock. Her eyes went from Jack's to Matt's and back, watching them watch her. Matt finally pushed her off and she slumped to the bed, awaiting Jack's attentions. He put her in the same position. Tia's body was weakening quickly, she had never been fucked so long. Her legs were starting to tremble from exhaustion and her head was getting heavy as she gasped for breath. Matt was behind her and started smacking her ass again, eliciting sharp gasps with each strike, keeping her orgasm out of reach. His hand stayed on her bottom and he worked a finger down her crack to her puckered asshole. Her hands, firmly intertwined with Jack's, were helpless to stop his probe. "No," she finally protested, and Matt quickly pulled away and returned to spanking her. Jack released one of her hands and reached for her tit. Tia immediately lost her balance and slumped forward, holding herself up with her hands on the bed, rocking Jack's dick while freeing his hands to fondle her breasts and giving even better access to her bottom for Matt's irregular strikes. Jack pushed her off and she collapsed on her face, her ass up in the air. Matt quickly moved behind her and took her doggy style, her red butt slapping against him. Jack moved to her head and raised her up to all fours. Tia's head hung down, seemingly too heavy for her neck to raise. "Look at me," Jack ordered, lifting her chin. Tia tried, struggling to keep her eyes open and her head up, but soon dropped again. Her arms were starting to wobble as she fought to keep herself up. Jack raised her chin and her eyes fluttered open to look into his, but her head quickly fell again. Matt saw what was happening and grabbed a thick handful of hair and pulled back sharply and forcing her head up. Tia screamed anew as Matt used his handhold as leverage to increase the force of his thrusts, her tender ass smacking against his tight abs. Jack stared into her eyes as she was pounded, reaching under her to roll one of her nipples in his fingers. "Cum for me, baby," Jack whispered to her as he, and she did. Tia's brain exploded in ecstasy and she would have collapsed from the force of her orgasm, but Matt's handful of her hair kept her up. Jack watched her face contort and her body shake as she came. "Fuck, you're hot," he growled and stood up, guiding her head down to take him into her mouth. Tia grimaced as she received the disgusting taste of her own juices but she sucked him as best she could as Matt fucked her from behind. "Dude, you want sloppy seconds?" Matt groaned. "No, cum in her mouth." Tia tried to moan in disagreement, but Matt and Jack quickly pulled out and spun her around. Matt's soaking cock smeared against her cheek before finding her mouth. Jack quickly entered her from behind and started to fuck her as she slurped away on Matt. Matt came quickly and filled her mouth before falling to the bed as Tia fell to her face, leaving only her hips up. She was forced to swallow another load of cum as Jack continued to drill her from behind. Tia moaned non-stop as he held on to her hips and took her. Jack screamed as he came, pumping her full of his seed before they both collapsed on the bed in a sweaty tangle of exhausted bodies. Jack rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, panting for breath. "Yo," he grinned, and turned the light off.