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Controlling Jennifer, Part Eleven
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: Story: Controlling Jennifer XI
Disclaimer: whatever
This is part 11 of the Controlling Jennifer series. This story is ©
1993 by Daniel Reinker, and while I do not mind it being
distributed, I would appreciate it if you would keep this header on
it so folks can know who wrote it.
Controlling Jennifer XI: Forget-Me-Not
"I just wanted to say I'm sorry." began Jacob. Jennifer sat on
her bed, listening to him. His words sounded like he had practiced
them over and over again, but Jennifer only half listened to him.
She had heard the important part anyway, the 'I'm sorry' part. The
rest was just filler, padding for the first sentence. Instead,
Jennifer studied his face. He looked different from before, less
intense and more tired, like he had gone through some sort of
emotional upheaval and was now coming out of it.
"I'm sorry I came on so strongly, and pressured you so much.
You were... well, to put it bluntly, that one day, making love to you
was the most incredible experience I've ever had. I guess you could
say it made me a little..." he hesitated. "...obsessed...with you."
Jennifer's voice was a little distant, as she remembered how
he had looked that day in the hallway, when he had asked her about...hmm, well, he had asked her hohe had burned his hand.
"You've been acting so...different." she said to him. Come to think of
it, how HAD he burned his hand? Jennifer fought off the temptation
to pursue this tangent in her mind; she had recently come to the
realization that she, too, had been acting very different the past
month, and now she was trying to get a grasp of all she had done.
Jacob hung his head. "I know." he said quietly. "Like I said, I've
been kind of obsessed with you. I hope I didn't scare you too
much...if it means anything at all, lately, I've been kind of scaring
myself lately. All I can say is I'm sorry, Jenn...I'm trying to get
more in control of my life now." He looked up at her, and she saw
something in his eyes, a glimmer of hunger as he looked at her.
"You have to understand..." he breathed. "...that day was incredible.
YOU were incredible. I've never had sex like that before... it was
unreal."
Jennifer bit her lip uneasily. It was her own fault, for acting
that way...why had she done that in the first place, anyway? She
had acted so crazy that first day, throwing herself at any man she
saw. Throwing herself at Jacob. It was the beginning of everything,
the start of the month of madness. Jennifer shook her head. "I have
to apologize, too, Jacob. I've been acting really weird this month,
too...well, since that same day. To be honest, I don't think I
would've slept with you if I had really been myself." She turned
away to look out the window, her next words inaudible except to
herself. "I really don't know what's come over me."
When she looked back at Jacob, she was amazed. He had a
fervent, strained expression on his face, and it looked like it was
taking all his willpower to keep from sweeping her up in his arms
right then and there. He took a step forwards unconsciously, then
noticed and forced himself two steps back. "Don't say that,
Jennifer...you don't need to apologize for anything. Especially not
what happened that day. I..uh...I gotta get going...can we be friends
again? JUST friends?" He gave her a slight, almost melancholy
smile.
Jennifer thought about offering him a hug...but she still didn't
trust that look in his eyes, and worried a hug might lead to more.
"All right. Friends." she said. She tried to smile but wasn't able to.
Jacob looked at her uncertainly, then grinned again. "Good. See
you later, Jennifer." He walked out the door.
"Bye." said Jennifer, and watched him leave. Her eyes drifted
to his arm as he entered the hallway and disappeared from her
sight. The bandage was gone now, and the burn was pretty much
healed up...how had he received it, anyways? She would have sworn
she was there, and that she had seen it happen...but she couldn't
remember exactly when, or how. It had happened on friday, she
knew that for sure, because he had burned it after he had broken in
on her with Derrick. When Derrick had led them out to the parking
lot for the fight. Or...was it Derrick? Or...someone else? Jennifer
felt a familiar sensation, like something or someone was dancing
at the edge of her memory, fluttering just barely out of reach, a
moth bumping against the dim light of her mind. But, as usual, no
matter how hard she tried, she couldn't pinpoint it, and soon it all
faded. It had the feeling of a dream, disappearing quickly out of her
consciousness until she had no grasp of it left.
She slammed her fist down into her pillow, taking her
frustrations out against its softness. She was sure that this
elusive memory was the key to her recent madness; she didn't
know how she knew, but she knew. If only she could remember.
The next day, Jennifer found herself staring at a tree. She
was in the park with Darlene, walking to the track, when she saw
the tree, and abruptly she found herself completely focused on it.
That tree. She knew that tree. She had been sitting under that
tree...sometime recently...with someone. Not Francisco, not
Darlene, someone else. Someone in a strange mood, a non-talking
mood, and she was sitting beside him, waiting for him to speak.
She could remember it faintly...maybe a dream? It was hard to say.
It seemed like a dream, but she couldn't be sure.
"Earth to Jennifer." Darlene's voice sounded right by her ear.
Jennifer was startled out of her trance, and turned to look at her
roommate. Darlene was grinning at her. "What's with you? See a
ghost?"
Jennifer once again focused on the tree. "That tree." she
murmured. "I know it from somewhere. I can remember sitting
under it...with...someone. It's weird. It's like I'm remembering
something that didn't happen."
"Like deja vu?" asked Darlene. She followed Jennifer's eyes to
the tree. "Maybe where you met Francisco? Didn't you say you guys
met in the park?"
Jennifer shook her head. "No, that was somewhere else. Over
in that woodsy area over there." She started to nod slowly. "But I
think it was the same day. I was with someone else. Or...maybe
not?" Now, when she thought about it, it seemed like it was all her
imagination. Hadn't she been sitting there alone? And she had seen
a bunch of boys throwing rocks at a squirrel...yes, when she
thought about it, she had done it all by herself. All alone. Yet...that
didn't seem exactly right.
"Want to take a closer look?" asked Darlene. She grinned.
"Anything to delay jogging." Darlene had started to jog somewhat
regularly with Jennifer, although she usually quit after two or
three laps, and sat in the shade while Jennifer finished the rest of
the running. Jennifer didn't really mind; it was fun running with
another person, even if Darlene was slower and got tired faster.
"Okay." said Jennifer. They walked over to the tree. Jennifer
looked at the area at its trunk. She knew where she had been
sitting, at a space between two roots. Now, she looked at the
space beside it, and it really felt like someone else had been
sitting there at the same time she had. Her mind flickered to an
image of hands, hands shredding a leaf into fragments. Or was that
a dream? She had been there alone, she was sure of that. She would
have certainly remembered if it was otherwise.
Jennifer shook her head. "I think it's just my imagination." she
said. "My mind is playing tricks on me. Let's go to the track, okay?"
Darlene shrugged, and they walked back to the sidewalk and
continued to the track.
That night, Jennifer had a dream. She was in her dorm,
walking to the bathroom to take a shower, wearing her white
cotton robe. But when she entered the bathroom, the walls on the
left side of the bathroom were gone, and instead the room
extended into another room, a dark study with high shelves of
books covering each wall. The study had one chair, a large swivel
chair turned backwards so that she could just barely see the head
of the person sitting in the chair. He had dark hair, and Jennifer
felt a touch of fear. But when she turned to leave, the door was
gone.
The chair squeaked as it swiveled slowly around, and she
could see the man sitting there. He looked about the same age as
her, with straight dark hair, and a darkness to his features that
made him look slightly Italian. His eyes caught hers and held them;
she realized that he didn't have any pupils, only blank white where
they should have been. But she could tell where he was looking, and
she realized he was tracing her body with his eyes. He grinned, a
familiar grin.
"Hello, Miss Cailly." His voice was familiar too.
Of course it is, she abruptly realized. It's Mark. How could she
NOT recognize him? "Mark." she whispered.
"Did you want to see me again?" he grinned. "Why don't you
take off your robe? I want to see your lovely naked body."
Jennifer performed his actions without hesitation, untying
the belt and letting the cloth slip off her shoulders to the floor.
She could see his empty sockets wandering over her bare breasts,
tracing her soft skin down to her triangle of dark pubic hair, then
moving down each of her long legs, one at a time. "Beautiful." he
grinned. His voice was darker, less human. "Beautiful."
Jennifer found that she wasn't embarrassed by his frank
appraisal. If anything, she wanted him to do more. She wanted him
to pull her onto a bed and spread her legs open. She wanted to feel
him inside her, feel him thrusting deep within her and making
wild, passionate, uncontrolled sex with her.
And then she realized the den had become a bedroom, and a
canopy bed covered in silk waited to the side. Mark stood and held
out his hand. "Come to me, Miss Cailly." he said. His voice was
overpowering, and her body trembled to obey.
But a question suddenly surfaced in her mind, and it stopped
the lust that threatened to burst from her body. She peered at him.
"Mark." she asked. "Mark, why did you leave me on Saturday?"
He walked forward in three easy strides, and enveloped her
naked body in his arms. His hands slipped down to squeeze her
buttocks, and push her crotch against his. She could feel his
erection pressing against her pelvis, straining against his clothes.
"Hush." he whispered into her ear. "Did I say you could speak? Come
with me, Jennifer. Come to bed."
But the passion was ebbing inside her, leaving her cold and
empty. All she could think of was that question. "Why did you leave
me? Please, Mark. Please tell me why." she whispered as she
latched her arms around him and fell into his embrace. Just like on
Saturday, she thought. It was all coming back to her. Mark. That's
what she had been trying to remember. How could she have
forgotten him?
But he released her and shrugged her off. His face was
disgusted, and she was still disquieted by his empty eye sockets.
"You're a bad slave." he said. "I'm willing to please you, more than
you deserve, and you won't please me back. You disgust me." He
wandered back to his chair. "I'm willing to give you what your body
wants. You should thank me for that. Instead, you turn me away.
You don't deserve a master such as I, Jennifer Anne Cailly." He sat
down in the chair, grinning once again.
"Please, Mark." she said, taking a hesitant step forward. "It's
more than that, can't you see? More than just sex." He only grinned,
as if the smile was frozen on his face, and his chair slowly
started to turn.
"Mark!" she cried. She started to walk towards him, her pace
becoming faster as his chair continued to turn. "Don't go! Just
answer me...tell me why you had to leave me!" And Jennifer rushed
towards the chair.
But when she got there, the chair had turned all the way
around, and Mark was gone.
That was when she woke up. It was still dark, and her panties
were slick and wet with fluids. Darlene's slow breathing came
from the next bed. Jennifer checked the clock. It was 3:35, she
still had a couple hours left to sleep.
For a while, she laid in the dark, staring at the ceiling and
thinking of her dream. Mark. She had seemed to recognize him in
the dream, but now she couldn't remember where from. Mark. Maybe
she had made it all up; that sometimes happened in dreams, she
would recall memories that were all part of the dream. That
seemed likely in this case.
But the name kept repeating in her head. Mark. Mark. She knew
it somewhere. It felt right. She didn't know where it came from,
but it felt important.
Write it down, a voice said in her mind. In her sleep dimmed
memory, she could remember someone had written a poem in a
dream, but only wrote down the first few lines, and afterwards
couldn't remember the rest. She felt the same way. If she didn't
write down the name, she would surely forget it. Jennifer searched
the top of her desk in the dark until her hand encountered a pencil.
Then she found a piece of scratch paper, and scrawled: Mark.
She nodded, pleased with herself. Yes, that name somehow
felt important. Her mind drifted back to sleep, and this time, she
didn't have any dreams.
Ann walked up after another boring Chinese Culture class.
"Are you eating lunch, Jennifer?"
Jennifer hadn't paid any attention to the lecture; instead, she
had filled up the blank page in her notebook with that name. The
name Mark. She felt like the man in Close Encounters of the Third
Kind, the one who had spent the first half of the movie building
replicas of a hill with a flat top. Like him, she knew the name Mark
was somehow significant, but couldn't figure out how.
She looked up at Ann. "Huh? Oh...actually, no. Sorry, Ann.
Francisco said he would take me out for lunch."
"Oh. Ok, that's all right. Have a good time."
"Bye!" said Jennifer. Ann walked out as Jennifer gathered her
things.
She met Francisco by her mailbox. "Hi, Jenn!" he said
cheerfully. "You ready to go?" She smiled and nodded, and together
they walked across the street to Joanne's Coffee Shop, which was
a restaurant near the campus often frequented by students. The
place was fairly crowded, as usual during the lunch rush.
Fortunately, Jennifer and Francisco didn't have to wait too long
before they were seated.
"So how was your day?" he asked as they waited for the
waitress to notice them.
Jennifer sighed. "Kind of weird. For some reason, I have this
name running through my head. I keep trying to place it....it sounds
so familiar... but I can't get it."
"So what's the name? Maybe I know."
Jennifer doubted it, but she told him anyway. "Mark."
"Mm. Mark what?"
"Just Mark. I can't remember a last name."
Francisco grinned. "Just Mark? There's lots of Mark's,
Jennifer."
She sighed again. "I know. But it feels like a Mark I should
know." She considered telling him about her dream the night
before, but abandoned the idea. It was too personal.
"Hmm. Should I be jealous?" Francisco joked. But, even though
she knew he meant it in fun, it struck a chord in her. That had
something to do with Mark. It seemed like Francisco SHOULD be
jealous of Mark...for some reason. Jennifer went quickly through
the names of all her previous boyfriends, all the guys she had
dated, all the men she had had sex with. But none of them were
named Mark.
Her consideration did not go unnoticed by Francisco. "Hey!
What's with that look on your face? Is Mark a competitor?"
She smiled. "No, no. I was just going through the names of
men I've dated, to see if any were named Mark."
"None were?"
She fought to keep from pausing again. This also struck a
chord in her. She KNEW she had never dated anyone named
Mark...but...it seemed like she had. "No, none were."
"Well..." he said cheerfully. "I'm sure you'll figure it out." Then
he started telling a story, about something that had happened in
his Chemistry class. Jennifer only half listened, her mind
wandering. Mark. Who was Mark?
The waitress came and took their orders. Jennifer ordered a
chicken salad, and Francisco had a burger. They started to talk
again. And then, while Francisco was talking, Jennifer looked over
his shoulder, and she saw him.
It was the man from her dream. It was Mark. And he was
staring right at her.
Jennifer went pale, her eyes linked with the strangers. She
could see he was sitting at the counter, drinking a coke, staring at
her. He didn't look away when she met his gaze, but continued to
stare at her, his eyes tracing a line into hers as if doomed to do so
eternally. He had a pained expression, as if he would have rather
returned to his coke and oblivion, but could not wrench his eyes
from her face. Jennifer felt a weird loneliness go through her as
she watched him. Even though she was with Francisco, she felt
lonely.
Francisco couldn't help but notice her attention had shifted.
"What is it, Jen?" he asked, turning to follow her gaze. Jennifer
could see Mark's eyes shift to Francisco's face, then returned to
regard Jennifer for a moment, before returning to his coke.
Francisco turned back. "What's wrong? You know that guy?" he
asked.
Jennifer could only shake her head weakly. "No. I'll be right
back." She stood on wobbly legs, and walked over to Mark, not
knowing what to expect. Maybe she was crazy. But somehow, she
had to know who he was.
Mark stared down into his soda, waiting as she approached.
She stood next to him uncertainly. "Hi." she started. "Um...do I know
you?"
He didn't look up. "Jennifer." she heard him say.
He knew her name. How did he know her name? She couldn't
remember him. Yet, she could. Her mind struggled to come to grips
with what was reality in her mind, and what was not. Finally, she
asked, quietly, "Mark?"
He looked up at her. His eyes were creased in amazed
disbelief. She watched him, uncertainly, waiting for him to speak.
Finally, he did, and as he spoke, she felt something reach into her
mind and clean away the darkness. "Jennifer. Remember." he said.
And suddenly, it all came back to her, flooding into her mind. All
the memories of the past month. Memories of Mark. She knew him.
He was Mark Robert Antonio.
"Mark." It all came flooding back. Meeting him in the park.
Going with him to La Rochelles. Meeting him at the dance. Talking
to him in the park. Obeying him. Hating him. Fearing him. Kissing
him. It all rushed into her mind in a torrent of images. "Mark. Of
course. Mark."
"You remember." he said.
"Mark..." she said again. She gasped as her memory finally
caught up. "It was you! You made me forget everything!
Mark...why...?" She could remember her shock, just before his words
had erased her memory, when she had realized what he was going
to do.
"I couldn't stand it anymore...I couldn't stand that look you
had." he said. But he was talking to himself. His voice was low and
strained. "I couldn't stand you not knowing who I was."
"Mark. How could you?" she felt betrayed. Hurt and betrayed.
He looked at her. "Jennifer...I had to. I have to do it again. It's
better for you if you don't remember anything. You can go back to
the way things were." He shook his head, his eyes squeezing tightly
together. "I just couldn't take you not knowing who I was."
"Don't you dare!" she said, her voice louder than she intended.
Almost a shriek. She caught herself, and spoke again, slower and
carefully controlled. "Mark...please." Now her voice was pleading,
but she couldn't control that. "Please...you can't...don't put me
through that again. I thought I was going mad." The words started
to rush out now. "Mark...why did you leave me? Why are you doing
this to me? What's did I do to you? How could you put me through
all this? What's wrong with you? Tell me, Mark...what happened?"
She finally managed to stop the flow of words and emotion pouring
from her mouth.
Mark looked like every question had pounded against him,
tearing him down worse than any insults ever could.
"Jennifer...please...I had to...I have to again...it's better..."
Jennifer sat down next to him, feeling her legs go weak under
her. "Mark....Mark, don't do it again. Please. If I mean anything to you
at all...don't make me forget again." Her mind was swirling in
emotions, and it was all making her dizzy. She didn't know whether
to hit Mark or hug him. Her mind jumped from memory to memory,
reliving her experience with Mark backwards, forwards and
sideways. She felt completely torn up inside.
Mark, too, looked uncertain, and Jennifer could feel the
emotions battling on his face, too. Finally he whispered "I have
to...it's better if I do..."
"Better for who?" she whispered quietly, feeling like her soul
was drowning in a sea of anguish. He would do it again, he would
make her forget. She tried to tell herself that she wouldn't forget
this time, but she knew his power would sweep her away like
before. It was all bitterly inevitable.
"I have to...but I can't, Jennifer. I can't." And he reached out
for her. That tipped the scales in herself, and before she was even
aware of it, she was in his arms again. Letting herself feel safe
and comforted in his grip. Clinging to each other, saying nothing.
She could feel him shaking. That's all right, I think I am, too, she
thought.
Some colder, logical part of her mind told her that Francisco
was getting up and leaving. It informed her that she was letting
the possibility of a safe, happy relationship drift away, while
clinging on to what was most likely the most screwed-up
relationship she could ever have.
Que sera, sera, she thought as she pressed her cheek onto
Mark's shoulder and felt him hold her tightly.
To be continued
This story is an elaborate procrastination technique
perpetuated by Danny Reinker.
comments can go to: dementia@cheshire.oxy.edu
Occidental heartily supports my right to post this story,
though they do not specifically endorse the contents contained
therein.
All places and characters are absolutely fictional, not based
on real life at all. No, sirree.
Hope y'all enjoyed it.
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"Twisting under schizophrenia/ Falling deep into Dementia" - Metallica
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