Disclaimer :

Read No Further If You Are Under The Age Of 18

Or

If You Are Offended By Graphic Descriptions Of Sexual Activity. All Characters, Situations, And Locations Are Purely Fictional. Mind control is fictional, any attempt to dominate a real person in this manner would be sick and perverted. Remember its just fiction.Archiving And Reposting Permitted Only If The Complete, Unaltered File, Including This Disclaimer, Is Included. The Control Ring - Edition 2

Chapter 1

Discovery

Blowing out the candles Peter De Ville wondered how long the charade would last. At sixteen he was tired of birthday parties but he smiled to please Mother, who bustled around the table taking photographs of the family. Everybody appeared to enjoy themselves but nobody meant it. Taking a deep breath Peter blew out thirteen of the candles, missing only two of the brightest and most distant flames.

Anna, his older sister, did not miss the opportunity to jibe, 'Candles too big for you Pete and I thought you were full of wind? Maybe when you grow big enough you'll learn to blow.'

Peter, hated Anna the more than anyone. Not only did she annoy him at every chance she got but she didn't hesitate to tell him how much better she looked to him. He was short, speckled, overweight, and very clumsy. She, on the other hand, looked like a teenage model: silky brown hair flowed down to her waist and her eyes and nose gave her the features of an angel.

The best he could do was to ignore his sister's insults and cut the birthday cake. As the knife touched the icing, Grandad let out the predictable comment, 'Don't touch the bottom with the knife Pete or you'll have to kiss the closest girl.'

Anna moved away but Mother inched closer in case she got lucky on her only son's special day. Amusing himself, Peter flashed the blade and pondered whether Anna was out of line of sight.

Mary, their maid, stood off to the side. As always the thirty something year old lady was there to help whoever needed it. Mother employed Mary to do the chores Mother could not fit into her busy fitness schedule but Mary had grown to part of the family. As the knife settled into the cake. Peter tried to glimpse the maid's large bust.  

Grandad wobbled a bit. A trick which always seem to work as Mary good heartedly propped the old geezer up. It gave Grandad a thrill but Mary didn't mind, she never did. She merely brushed his wirily hand away whenever it strayed up to a breast.

With the cake cut, everyone helped themselves to a slice. Peter accepted his family best wishes, even Anna's when she reluctantly held out a unwrapped box of chocolate for her bother. Forcing a smile when he thanked her.

Mother enthusiastically wheeled in something large. It was wrapped in colourful paper and was heavy enough that Mary helped push it. Excitedly, Peter tore the multitude of paper off to reveal a motorcycle. That time he did kiss his mother, thanking her at least five times.

Mary produced a bundle that hid a new leather jacket. Peter thought that the outfit looked a bit too good for him but she encouraged him by saying it could help him look good on the motorcycle. He liked to look for Mary's and glanced directly into eyes before she glanced away.

Grandad delivered his present last. An old box containing a note and a ring. 'Here you are Pete,' said Grandad handing over with shaking hands. 'Your father asked me to give this to you on your sixteenth birthday. He told me to say that he hopes it brings you as much fortune as it did to us.'

Grandad had become the head of the family since Peter turned six years old. Father passed away that year leaving Grandad with the responsibility. Smelly old Grandad did nothing to earn the respect of the family although his money provided them a home and a maid. Everyone wished that the toothless on geezer would simply die soon, leaving them the money and gaining some peace.

Peter liked the ring. It held a green gem that sparkled with unnatural beauty. 'It's great,' he said grinning like a fool.  

'I hope so Pete. It is worth more than anything else you can imagine.' Grandad winked making Peter feel very uncomfortable.

The ring looked nice but not that nice. The gem was unlike any stone Peter had seen but could hardly be considered so valuable. The gift touched him anyway because it was a gift from the grave. Father wanted him to have it and therefore, in Peter's eyes, it was priceless. He looked at the note.

'Not now Pete,' said Grandad briskly covering the writing. 'Its private from your father.'

The rest of the family wanted to know what the note contained and Peter would have shown them but Grandad turned cranky, driving them off with his stick. An argument between Grandad and Anna started bringing the false celebration to an end. Peter's used the fight to escape to his room. There he quietly opened his fathers message, admiring the ring as he read slowly through every word, restraining his excitement.

It read:

Dear Son,

Congratulations for your sixteenth birthday. I hope that you have not forgotten me and held our memories close to your heart. The heirloom in this parcel will change your life forever. you may choose not to accept it but I trust that you are not a fool because only a fool could refuse such a gift. The ring can only be used by one of our line. Your duty is to pass in on to your son as I have to you. The ring has the power of suggestion. Use it wisely and your life will always be wondrous. Take care to keep it a secret for many others want such a gift. The instructions are easy to follow. Concentrate on the ring and when it begins to glow you can suggest thoughts to other people. They have to obey you. Tell them or change into whatever you like but be careful because the changes are irreversible.

Good luck son and happy birthday,

Father

Peter looked in disbelief. His spectacles almost fell from his eyes. Was it a joke from Father? How much did Grandad know? Did Grandad or Father ever use the ring? They must have.

Placing the ring on his middle finger Peter stared at the gem. Within moments it glowed and continued to glow for several minutes.

Heart beating he raced out the hallway, almost colliding with Grandad. 'Well Pete, I see that you know about the ring now?' said Grandad. 'Have you used it yet?'

'I.. Just a moment ago. I saw it shine.'

'Very good. Now you must wait for it to recharge. I bet you have lots of plans now sonny. Who is going to be your first subject?'  

'None of your business Grandad. I am not going to use it on anybody.'

The old geezer laughed. 'Of course you are. We all do when we first get it. Is it somebody at school or a girl in the neighbourhood? You can tell me. You know your father picked your mother out of a centrefold, don't you?'

Mother a centrefold? It could not be true. Yet when he thought about it, she was very attractive for a woman of forty two years. Her legs were quite stunning. 'How?' he asked.

'Your father just opened a magazine one day, saw your mother, and decided to take her. That's the kind of power you have now Pete. So who are you going to choose?' Grandad smiled his toothless smile making Peter cringe.

'I said none of your business. Leave me alone Grandad.'

Peter launched onto his motorcycle, hearing the old man's laughter fade . The means to travel and the power to control. He felt like a god. Not owning a licence to ride did not prevent him from taking to the road. The road laws confused him but, he reasoned, the riding a motorcycle should have the same rules as riding a bicycle and he had done that thousands of times.

Only when he came to the first intersection did Peter realise his limitations. Carefully he indicated to turn right, only to be faced with other drivers turning into the same road. He waited for several cars to enter then impatiently cut in, almost swiping an on coming vehicle. Several more turns brought him onto the motorway, where he let his motorcycle loose.  

The speedometer peaked 160 kilometres per hour when a police siren interrupted Peter's dreaming.

He pulled the motorcycle over and waited for the police interrogation, all the time he wondered how long the ring took to recharge. A police woman, looking strict and stern, climbed out of the cop car. It was difficult to tell from the blue uniform but she looked about twenty years old and very fit. Peter fidgeted with the ring through his gloves, hoping his father's note was correct about the power.

'Can I have your licence please sir?' said the no-nonsense policewoman, drawing out a little book and pen to take down details.

Peter gulped. If his father note was true he could be free, if not then he had a lot of explaining to do to mother. He pulled the leather glove off his hand to concentrate on the ring. The cop gave him an odd look.

The ring refused to glow.

'I said,' demanded the woman. 'That I would like to see your licence sir.'

Beads of sweat formed on Peter's forehead. He concentrated again,

terrified of the outcome.

Impatiently, the woman put her hand onto her hipster. 'Show me your licence now!'

'I can't. I haven't got one.'

'Then I have no choice sir. You are under arrest. You have the right to remain...'

Peter panicked. If he could get to his motorcycle in time he could get away but the cop was sure to catch him and she held a gun. He took a step towards his escape.

The gun flashed out, pinning him in the line of sight. 'Stop!' yelled the woman. 'Up against the car!'

Peter felt himself thrust against the hood of the police car, one hand twisted around his back. The other, his ring hand, wrestled from behind. 'Work you bastard!' he grunted at the cursed ring.

It glowed.

And the cop stop wrestling. Cautiously he turned to the her. 'Put your gun down.' he said to the statue still woman.

She placed the gun on the ground.

Peter sighed in relief. Collecting his thoughts and calming himself he circled the cop. Close up he could see that she was more mature than he initially thought, probably around twenty five years old. Hard angles framed a disciplined face and a bun bound her black hair hard behind her head.

Trying another command he announced, 'You don't want my licence.'

She frowned, then repeated, 'No I don't want your licence.'

The ring still glowed but he did not know how long it would last so he ordered her, 'Forget about why you pulled me over and let me go free.'

The command seamed easier for her because her expression relaxed a little. 'I don't know why I pulled you over. I must have made a mistake.'

Peter grinned, liking the power. He touched the woman's cheek and murmured to himself, 'Nice.'

'Nice,' she repeated.

Peter didn't know what she meant but forgot about it as the ring began to

fade. Afraid to lose his prize, he quickly said, 'I am your best friend. You want me around.'

The glow vanished completely as he finished.

The officer robotically said, 'My best...' Then her blank expression vanished, replaced by expression.

She smiled, 'Hi, my name is Cheryl. I don't know yours, do I?'

'I'm Peter. My friends call me Pete.'

She shook his hand. 'Well Pete it is then. I think that we are going to know each other very well. Its funny but I can't remember why I pulled you over.'

'I think you wanted my license,' said Peter testing his commands.

She looked shocked 'No way, I'd never want to do that. Maybe I just wanted to meet you, after all you look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?'

They chatted for a while on the motorway. Cheryl, no longer a stern policewoman, wanted to learn all about him and told him a lot about herself. All the time Peter studied her uniform trying to catch glimpses of her curves under the blue shirt. While they talked, the ring recharged and he formulated a plan.

It soon became obvious that Cheryl was more interested in her new friend than doing her job. Picking up the radio handset, she informed base that she was sick and heading home.

Peter liked the way the event was going, imagining how he could make the next play with his toy cop.

'We can't stay here all day,' announced Cheryl. 'Why don't come over to my house and meet my husband. I'm sure you would like him.'

Peter gulped, 'Your husband! I... Do you mind if we go somewhere else a little more private? Perhaps a hotel?'

'Don't be silly Pete. We can't go to a hotel. I know, leave your bike here and I'll take you to my favourite place.'

Peter agreed. He locked the motorcycle and, as he joined Cheryl in the police car, she asked, 'Do you mind doing a favour for me? Ever since we met this afternoon I've had the strangest urge.'

'I suppose I could. What is it?'

The cop blushed, 'I... I want you to touch my cheek.'

Peter did so and was surprised at how much Cheryl enjoyed feeling his fingers against her skin. It gave him an idea for his plan.

They drove into town, taking the twisting streets into the centre. All of the time, Peter counted the minutes, trying to determine when the ring would have another charge. He tried once at a set of traffic lights only to be disappointed. To Peter's relief, they passed the shops and restaurants, heading for the park. As expected, the grounds were practically empty.  

They had only sat down on a bench when the ring glowed again. Peter used his power and commanded, 'You are feeling very sexy Cheryl. Feel your body to see how sexy you are.'

In a flat voice she replied, 'Very sexy. Have to touch myself.' Her fingers unfastened the blue cop shirt to glide over pale skin.

Nobody was looking.

'Every time I say your name you will start feeling sexy and touch yourself. Although you'll try to resist, you wont be able to stop feeling more and more sexy. Within minutes you'll have to masturbate yourself until you have an orgasm. Then you'll feel normal again but each time you will like the way you felt a little more. After a few times, you'll want me to say your name, eventually you'll be addicted and do anything to hear me say it. You will never tell anybody about this especially your husband.'

 The ring faded and Peter sighed, glad to get all of the instructions out.

 Cheryl thought about how strange the day had been. Gary, her husband, started an argument before work. He didn't like her police job, claiming it was too dangerous for his wife. Cheryl didn't agree, she liked the work and they needed the money. In the back of her mind she also knew he was just being a chauvinist who wanted his wife at home cooking inner and cleaning the house. They had the same argument every day and it was not out of the ordinary.

The strangeness started when she first met Peter. No matter how hard she tried she could not remember why she pulled his motorcycle over but she was glad she did. How queer it was to meet someone and become best friends almost immediately. She liked the way he listened to her and knew they would like each other forever. Particularly when his touch was so pleasant on her cheek.

Another strange thing was passing out twice in the same day. The first time on the motorway, the second right here at the park. She never passed out before, she was too tough, but maybe she had caught a virus. She wondered whether a trip to the doctors might be needed in the near future. For now, she wanted to enjoy the rest of the day with her new teenage friend.

A breeze drifted over bare skin bringing her notice to her partially exposed chest. 'Oh my!' she gasped buttoning the shirt. ' How did that happen?'

Flushed with embarrassment, she put together what must occurred, 'Did you give me some air when a fainted Pete?'

'No,' he replied. 'You did it yourself.'

How dare he say such a thing. That was the problem with today's teenagers, they thought that everyone else was stupid. Annoyed, Cheryl humph.

He watching her, then asked the strangest thing, 'Do you like the sound of my voice Cheryl? Some girls say that's its sexy.'

She giggled, hiding her annoyance, 'Your voice sounds fine Pete but not sexy. Maybe if you asked a girl your own age she might have a different opinion.'

'I agree,' he said. 'They wouldn't get turned on at all like you.'

Cheryl flipped her cap off to unpin her hair bun. Free hair was much better to run fingers through and the sensation tickled her scalp. Warming in the sun she replied, 'Now don't going getting ideas. We're just friends, okay? I am much too old for you.'

'Just hoping,' he said watching her bask in the sunlight. 'Do you really think that age makes that much difference if people are attracted to each other?'

'Oh Pete. I'm sorry,' she said breathing a little harder. A bead of perspiration dripped down to her collar. 'I don't think that I could like you in that way. Lets change the subject. Isn't it warm here?'

'I suppose it is. Are you all right? You look kind of ill.'

'Yes. I'm ill. Really hot.' She had to be sick. That explained her passing out earlier and the lovely tingling in her chest as her fingers explored the gentle curves of skin.

Cheryl's uniform was in the way. Stripping away the blue shirt, she exposed her upper body to the cooling breeze. But the warmth of the sun spread over her entire and her finely laced bra prevented from feeling all of the sensations in her tits. Breathing harder she reached around to unclasp the offending underwear.

'Oh my god!' she said realising that she was stripping in the middle of the park with a teenager and every passer by staring at her. 'I must be really sick Pete. You have to help me. Take me to a doctor.'

'Are you sure that's what you want? You look like you need a fuck.'

She could have slapped him, even her best friend should not speak to her that way, but her breathing laboured harder and it became too important to hide her body from his prying eyes. Reaching down to grab her shirt, one of her tits brushed a knee, sending waves of pleasure to her whole body. Her reason disappeared and, in its place, an overwhelming sexual took hold.

Leaning back against the bench, she touched the electrifying breast and massaged more sensation into her firming flesh. No longer caring about who saw her she plunged her other hand between her legs to pump herself into pleasure. Moaning, almost squealing, an orgasm washed over her body.

As she came down from the first orgasm of her life, she wondered about the how strange it was to experience the most wonderful sensation in public view.

Peter wanted to take the woman then, he wanted to have the sex his body yearned for all of his life. The thrill of conquering a cop excited him more than he thought possible. It meant that he could turn any woman into whatever he liked. Barely restraining his own orgasm, he squirmed in the seat to watch his woman return to normality.

Cheryl redressed herself. 'Oh Pete, what have I done? You must think that I am a whore. Please forgive me but I don't know what came over me. You won't tell anyone what I did. Will you?'

'Gee I don't know Cheryl. Would you give me a kiss if I promised not to say anything?' He emphasised her name.

'Oh Pete, I do like you a lot but it simply can't be that way,' she said but before she pulled her shirt together she moaned. 'Oh no. Its happening again. So hot! I have to stop it.'

Cheryl stretched out, removing all of her cloths. This time her trousers came off, giving her a better grip of her sex.

The scene was too much for Peter. Seeing the cop, spread legged across the bench brought him to his own throbbing climax and a wetness seeped inside his trousers.

Again, Cheryl orgasmed and pulled her cloths back on. Looking concerned, she stayed silent the whole time.

Uncomfortably wet, Peter lost interest in the game. He stood up, saying, 'I think that we should go home. Don't you?'

Cheryl nodded, 'Yes I suppose we should. I'll give you a ride to your bike.'

Neither of them spoke on the return visit. Both were embarrassed and couldn't think of anything to say. Only when they arrived at the motorcycle did the policewoman burst out, 'Oh Peter. Please don't tell anyone about this afternoon. If my friends find out I'll be ruined. My husband is sure to leave me and they might kick me off the police force. If you still want that kiss then I'll give it to you. Just don't tell anybody please.'

Leaning forward, Peter replied, 'I promise not to tell anybody but I would like that kiss.'

Her face approached his, her lips pouted and, as he expected her mouth to meet his, she brushed pass to peck him on the cheek.

'What do you call that?'

'I told you that we can't be any more than friends.'

'We'll see about that Cheryl. Do you like your name Cheryl? I bet you like me saying it and that's why you frig yourself. Isn't it Cheryl?'

'How do you know? You should not say my name if you know what it does to me. Well this time, I'm not going to uhhh. I'm not going to... Get out of the car. Quick!'

Peter didn't move, knowing that the policewoman was already on her way to another trip of passion. He watched her go through the same erotic strip. Peter's commands seemed to have a greater affect on woman each time, her initial denial lasted seconds before her sexual appetite took over. Groping her sex and tits, she softly chanted, 'Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.'

Unlike the other times Cheryl rocked her body hard in orgasm for more than a minute and, remained undressed, leaving her sweating body in plain view of her friend.

Smiling wickedly she said, 'You are very naughty to take advantage of me Pete. Friends don't do that sort of thing to friends.'

'I suppose you don't want me to say your name again then?'

Cheryl slid her bra back on. 'I don't know. Strange things have been happening all day. Nobody has ever done what you have for me and I'm beginning to enjoy our little game. Do you think you could say my name just one more time?'

'I don't think so,' Peter teased. 'Lets try it some other time. Now, do I get my kiss?'

Finally the cop pressed her lips against her new best friend, giving the teenager the best experience she could without going too far. They exchanged phone numbers and Peter promised to call.

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