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Controlling Jennifer, Part 10
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.
Controlling Jennifer X: Voice of Reason
For about a week, whenever someone knocked on the door,
Jennifer would automatically think it was Mark. She would slowly
slide to the door, preparing herself for his face, her mind furiously
trying to figure out what to say. And then she would open the door,
and it would be Amy, or Darlene after forgetting her key, or
someone else, and Jennifer would feel a strange double feeling,
let-down and relieved, all at the same time. And then, one day, she
opened the door without even thinking that it might be Mark. It
wasn't, and soon she stopped expecting him.
Francisco asked her out again, and she found herself making
an excuse, telling him she really needed to study in the library, and
she was sorry but maybe another time. She did it instinctively, not
particularly sure why at the time except that she really didn't
FEEL like it. Afterwards, she probed her mind, to decide on the real
reason she didn't want to go out with him. About the best she could
come up with was that he didn't excite her that much; she had first
approached her as a target for one of Mark's games, and she wasn't
sure she could think of him as anything else.
What if Mark really was gone? What if she had really seen the
last of him? Could she go back to her normal life again? Jennifer
honestly didn't know. She had been in complete control of her life
before he came, in control of all things: herself, her social life,
her studies. She could pretty easily get back in control of her
social life; it was all a matter of telling Francisco that she
wanted to take it slower, and then letting things run as before,
with her not doing anything she didn't feel like. If Francisco didn't
like that, well, it was all right; Jennifer didn't need him anyway.
She wasn't like Darlene. She really didn't feel any need to have a
boyfriend. School was also no problem. Her study habits had been
suffering from distraction, but without Mark, she thought that
would soon fade.
But what about herself? Mark had awakened something in
Jennifer, a certain restlessness. A desire to rush into things
against her better judgement. A desire to lose control. She was
addicted to the feeling, the I-can't-believe-I'm-doing-this feeling.
He had addicted her to it. It was like a beer commercial she had
seen as a freshman in high school. It was a typical commercial,
filled with happy beautiful people, but the image that had caught
Jennifer's mind was of a pretty dark-haired lady in a silver dress,
letting herself be pulled down a hallway. Apparently, she was
going to some party; at least that's the way she was made up. A
handsome man was pulling her along behind him, and as they rushed
down the hall, the lady turned and smiled at the camera. At
Jennifer. And her smile seemed to say, I don't know where he's
taking me, but I'm sure we'll have a great time once we get there.
Jennifer had been enchanted by the image at the time, but hadn't
been able to figure out exactly why until she had met Mark.
Submissiveness. The word itself was nasty, something
Jennifer had been trained all her life to reject. Never let yourself
be cowed, her father had told her. You can have anything you want
as long as you don't let anything stand in your way. For years, she
had approached all things with this attitude. All things including
sex.
But with Mark she discovered a strange paradox; even while
she was submitting to his words, she had power over him. The
lines between submission and domination were blurred, and he was
almost as much a slave to her actions as she was to his commands.
In the end, it didn't feel so much like she was giving him control,
it felt more like she was completely losing all control, giving her
puppet-strings to her body and its desires, and letting it run
rampant. For a young girl who had made certain she was
completely in control all her life, it was a very different feeling.
Not necessarily a good feeling, but a very tempting one.
And then came Tuesday night. She was lying in bed, tossing
and turning, not able to sleep. It was late, and Darlene was
sleeping soundly beside her, but Jennifer just couldn't sleep. She
felt that feeling in her body. A desire to let herself lose control,
and act against her better judgement. To go and do something
absolutely insane. Something she would never think of doing if she
was thinking clearly. To fight against it was a losing battle from
the beginning. But she tried. Tried and failed.
She got dressed in the dark, quietly so she wouldn't wake
Darlene. And all the time she was thinking to herself: why am I
doing this? This is absolutely mad! But she seemed powerless to
stop the feeling within her. To go to sleep at that point would have
been anticlimactic.
She slipped on a jacket, and was out the door.
The dorm was dark and quiet, except for a few insomniacs
watching t.v. in the lobby. Jennifer slipped out the door without
them seeing her. It was cold outside, and she shivered. Last chance
to back out, she thought, but she couldn't and knew it. The farther
she went, the more it seemed like a crime to turn back. She walked
out from the dorm.
Her mind was dancing crazily from one thought to the next,
noticing every detail around her. The night seemed alive, somehow
more vibrant than before. Or maybe she was just more sensitive to
it. Part of her was scared, of the dark and those who hid within it,
but that part was suppressed by a sense of destiny. She felt like
she was no longer in control of her actions, like her mind was the
prisoner of her body, and her body was being pulled along by some
force unknown to her. Without being fully aware of where she was
going, she soon found herself at the pond between the schools two
administration buildings. It was an artificially created pond,
stocked with green water lilies and millions of tiny guppies. At
night, small lights on the side of the pond gave the whole area a
hazy white surreal glow. Jennifer stood in this glow for a moment,
trembling, looking down at the pond.
It penetrated her trance that she was also illuminated in the
glow, and, still not understanding what she intended to do, she
glanced around nervously, then headed over to the rocks on the
right side of the pond. They served as a back drop to the entire
pond, a wall of gradually ascending rocks that rose behind it to
tower beside the adminstration building. Jennifer scrambled up
onto a low rock, then climbed onto the next highest rock, until she
was behind the pond on a platform of rock, about eight feet over
the surface of the water. The platform was big enough that she
could sit down, and she did, her back pressed against the rough
rock behind her. She trembled, and it was more than the chill of
the night. She was in the shadows, and was content that she wasn't
that visible from below. But she still shivered. Now came the big
step, and she wasn't sure she could really go through with it.
But a delirious feeling of daring and anticipation rushed
through her as she contemplated it. She breathed deeply, and
started to untie her shoes. They don't make a difference, she
thought. I'm still decent if they're off.
But soon they were off, and so were her socks, and the
anticipation was soaring and plunging through her. She looked
around, making sure for one last time that no one was spying on
her. Then, her fingers trembling, she unsnapped her jeans.
She took them off slowly, awkwardly, and the wind rushed in
to embrace her bare legs. Her breathing was fast and nervous, and
she tried to sooth her frightened mind. No one is here, she told
herself. No one can see you. Her fingers ran against the fabric of
her panties, rubbing against the rough lace. Now she was indecent.
You couldn't see anything, but that didn't matter. She traced the
line of her slit through the cloth, and felt a shot of momentary
pleasure until it was washed away by the cold fear that she was
being watched. She glanced around. No one. Just paranoia.
She pulled off her jacket, and put it in the growing stack of
clothes. Her fingers gripped the edge of her t-shirt. This was it. No
bra underneath to hide her. Once this was off, she was officially
naked. She held her breath and slipped it off.
The feeling was incredible! Both the night on her nude body,
and the rush that went through her soul. I'm actually doing this!
she kept thinking to herself, over and over. She pressed against the
rock behind her, the rough stone digging into her bare back, and she
looked in wonder at her naked breasts jutting out from her body,
open to the night.
Her panties joined the pile of clothes, and she sat, shivering,
feeling the cold stone against her butt. She pulled her legs to her,
squeezing them, running her fingers from her ankles to her thighs,
as if making sure she was actually bare. Her legs felt long and
smooth, and Jennifer extended them away from her. This increased
her feeling of exposure, and her mind fought between fear and
thrill. Her pubic triangle was dark in the shadow, and she slipped
her finger along the rough strands of hair. To be REALLY exposed, a
voice in the back of her head reminded her, you would have to
spread your legs. After all, that's the classic position of the
decadent woman. Jennifer, trembling, started to scissor open her
legs. But no, if she really wanted to do it, she would have to turn
and face the pond. That way, anyone who stood there and faced the
right direction would be able to look right at her pussy.
She inched around ninety degrees, and pressed her back
against the concrete wall of the administration building. My god,
I'm crazy, she thought. Mark's gone, but that doesn't matter, I've
got him now in my head, telling me things to do. For some reason,
this thought struck her as funny, and she fought off a giggle. 3, 2,
1, go for it, Jenn. And she pulled open her legs, spreading them
before the world.
A couple seconds, while she looked around dazed, making sure
no one was actually watching her. Then she let her gaze fall
downward, and her heartbeat raced to see her exposed slit. She
closed her eyes, and let her hand fall between her legs, probing
herself. She was still pretty dry, but that was all right, it was
hard to get turned on in the cold, and the thrill she felt was more
than sexual. She dug her finger as far in herself as she could, then
slowly moved it around, feeling the soft warmth both around her
and within her. Her thumb brushed against her clit, sending small,
cold bursts of pleasure through her. It would be impossible to
masturbate to any sort of peak; she was just too cold and nervous
to even fake it. Instead, she pressed her hand against her pussy,
feeling the soft contours of it against her palm, caressing it
gently in a nervous massage.
What now? She looked uneasily down into the pond. The water
looked cold, and she wasn't sure she could actually go through with
it. What if someone saw her? Jennifer pulled back into the
shadows, squeezing her arms against her breasts. It felt strange,
to feel the bare tips of her nipples against her arms; she was used
to the fabric. Once more, she looked down into the pond, into the
lightly illuminated depths. She thought about her naked body wet
and gleaming in the flourescent lights. An image of herself
standing knee-deep, like a water nymph, wet and innocent, while
trickles of pond water dripped down her breasts and jumped off
her nipples. Then she thought about herself, wet, cold, and
vulnerable, captured in the glowing lights. I can't, she thought. It's
just too much.
But now, once her clothes were off, she almost couldn't bring
herself to put them back on. She wanted to enjoy her nakedness as
long as she could. The stars were twinkling in a relatively clear
sky above her, and Jennifer leaned back against the rock wall and
watched them. All the while, she felt the cold night goosebumping
her skin.
Finally, paranoia struck her, more than before. She thought
she heard rustling. Maybe a security guard. Maybe a psycho. She
scrambled back into her clothes, and was off into the night like a
thief.
The walk back was numb in her mind, passing before she
realized it, and she found herself settled in bed, hot and sweating
despite the cool night air, her heart beating furiously underneath
the covers. I can't believe I just did that, she thought. And she felt
the rush.
And so Jennifer didn't know what to do anymore. Mark had left
her, but he was not completely gone from her life. His voice still
spoke in her head, the voice of temptation, telling her things she
shouldn't do, making her think about doing them.
And then, two weeks after she had last seen him, on the
friday night she might have spent with Francisco if she had
wanted, Jennifer opened the door, and there was Mark. It was three
days after her night escapade. She hadn't expected to see Mark. Yet
there he was.
She regarded him with shock. She had told herself she might
never see him again, but had never really believed it. And here he
was. His hair was somewhat disheveled, and his eyes were dull. As
Jennifer looked at him, she felt something twinge inside her, like
someone had tapped her heart with an icicle, and she wished he
would grin his confident grin. The way he looked... he looked like a
haunted man. Like someone who had been thinking a little too much.
"Mark." she said. "I was wondering if I would see you again."
"Did you want to?" he asked quietly. She could almost barely
hear him.
"Where did you go? I looked for you afterwards..." she let her
voice fade, hoping he would supply the rest.
He did not. She heard him speak, felt his power catching hold
of her, and she realized what he was saying a split-second before
he completed his statement. "Jennifer, forget me." She opened her
mouth to protest, to cry out and make him stop before he could
finish.
And then she found herself faced with a strange man. His eyes
stared at her with an uncomfortable intensity, and they were
filled with pain. She wondered why. "Can I help you?" she asked
him. Maybe he was one of Darlene's friends.
"No. No, I'm sorry." his voice was trembling. "I must have the
wrong room. Sorry to bother you." And he turned to walk off. His
shoulders were hunched, and Jennifer watched him go with
curiousity. A strange man... yet he looked... familiar?
She felt depressed for some reason. She felt like she was
losing something, but couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe it was
because of the guy. He had seemed depressed, maybe it was rubbing
off on her.
Jennifer shrugged and went back to her desk. Her mind kept
returning to the man's face, and how familiar he seemed. But try as
she might, she couldn't place him. Finally, she gave up, and
returned to studying.
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 how he 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.
Controlling Jennifer XII: Love of God
I think I'm in love with Mark, Jennifer thought to herself. It
was bizarre, it was strange, it was completely wrong, but she
thought it was the truth. She was in love with a man who could
control her with just a few words. Who could control ANYONE with
just a few words.
And the weird thing was, she thought he was probably in love
with her, too.
Jennifer looked at Mark's profile as he drove. She couldn't
imagine having that kind of power at her command. It would mean
never having to worry about anything ever again. Money would
mean nothing; you could have anything you wanted. Power wouldn't
mean anything, either. With Mark's controlling, he had total power,
over everything. He never had to put up with rude people, or police,
or bureaucracy, or anything ordinary people had to put up with.
What if he WAS in love with her? What did that mean?
"Mark..." she said. "Can I ask you a favor?"
"What?"
"Can I have this car?" It wasn't the white one she had been in
before, it was a new one, a black convertible. Very classy.
Mark shrugged. "Okay." he said. "I can always just get a new
one." And just like that, she had a car. Jennifer was amazed. It was
so easy.
"Wow." she said.
"What?"
"I'm just trying to imagine what it's like to have your power."
Mark shrugged as he made a left turn. "Well, it makes things
easier." he replied.
That was an understatement, she thought. It not only made
things easier, it made things other people spent years worrying
about ridiculously simple. Getting a car became just a matter of a
few words.The more she thought about what she could do with such
a power, the more the whole thing excited her. Money was nothing
to Mark, and if she was dating him, it would be nothing to her, too.
If she saw something she wanted, all she had to do was ask for it
and it would be hers. Anything.
They were going to a nearby mall now; it was more or less
their first real date. Actually, Jennifer had just wanted to find a
place to talk; she would have been willing to go anywhere. But
Mark insisted that they head to the mall, to a small restaurant he
liked to go to, where he said it was quiet and pleasant and a good
place to talk. He said he would answer whatever she asked there.
Jennifer thought maybe this was a place he wanted to show her,
like maybe his special place to go or something.
Or maybe he wanted to show her his new car. Correction: HER
new car. Jennifer ran her hand over the white leather armrest. She
could hardly believe it. "Wow."
"You keep saying that. What is it?"
"I can't believe you just gave me a car." Not just a car, she
thought, an EXPENSIVE car.
She could feel Mark's grin at her back. "A car is nothing." he
said. "I could give you a dozen cars."
"That's all right." she said. "I only need one." Jennifer could
imagine waking up in the morning, to find Mark outside with a
whole parking lot full of new cars. It was just the kind of show-
off thing he would do, too. The question was, would she be
impressed?
Well, yeah, of course she would. Just like if he showed up
with ten diamond rings, one for each finger. Jennifer let her
thoughts drift lazily in that direction, wondering what Darlene's
reaction would be if Jennifer showed her ten brand new diamond
rings. Or if a limo pulled up beside them, and it was Mark come to
whisk her away on a surprise weekend to Tahiti.
And what about school? Sure, she had told Mark to keep his
power out of her grades, but then, the pressure was always high,
and wouldn't it be nice to be able to call on Mark every so often, to
make things a little easier on her? Like, get him to postpone a test
or something. That wasn't really abusing his power was it? She
would still have to take the test, just later...so it wasn't REALLY
cheating. Just relieving the pressure of college. That wasn't so
bad, was it?
"You're kind of quiet." Mark said. "Anything wrong?"
"No, everything's fine." she smiled at him. "Just thinking about
things." She paused. "Mark, do you use your powers to make things
easier for you? Like with college? Do you have your teachers give
you straight A's?"
She was surprised when Mark shook his head. "I used to at
first." he admitted. "But after a while I realized that grades were
more or less meaningless anyway, for me, except as ways to judge
what I've learned. I mean, I transferred here by using my power on
the admissions committee. I don't think they ever even looked at
my grades." He paused as they turned right. "I'm really here to
learn, not to get good grades."
She shook her head. "I just can't imagine it." she said.
"Imagine what?"
"Having things so easy." she said. "I don't understand why
you're even at college. You have everything you want now, don't
you?"
He gave her a half-smile. "Not everything." he said. "I thought
about it, and I decided that it would be better if it looked like I
made my money legitimately. If I just try and take everything with
my power, down the line SOMEONE is going to get suspicious." His
smile became a little tight. "And that's one of the things I worry
about, that someday a bunch of scientists are going to catch me
and dissect me to see how my power works."
"Oh." said Jennifer. She hadn't thought of that; of course
scientists would be interested in him. Most likely the government,
too. A person with a power like Mark's would be a powerful tool in
their hands. Or else they would kill him, because his power also
made him dangerous to them. Jennifer shivered. She wondered
again, whether she wanted to enter into Mark's world. It was a lot
more complex than hers had been.
Then again, she didn't know if she could leave his world. She
didn't really want to. Mark reminded her of the main guy in a movie
she had seen about gang members. He was like two people. One was
the powerless Mark, the Mark who didn't know how to deal with
people, the one she could easily manipulate with a tear and a
frown, if she wanted to. The other one was the powerful Mark, the
controller, master of everything. Master of her, if he wanted.
Which one did she love? Both, she admitted to herself. She
certainly wouldn't love the powerful Mark without the other one,
he would be a monster. The monster she had first taken him to be.
And, when she thought about it, she probably wouldn't have fallen
in love with the powerless Mark either. She found the whole power
thing...intriguing.
The whole thing blew her away, how she had hated Mark, and
now she thought she loved him. Occasionally, she wondered if he
had used his power, someway, to make her love him. But she
always abandoned that idea. For one, the emotional roller coaster
she had been going through was too genuine to be a result of his
power. For another...well, she just didn't think he would do that. He
could've done it from the beginning, if that was what he wanted.
"Mark?"
"Yeah?"
"From the beginning, what did you want from me? And what
do you want now?"
He concentrated on his driving. "I really didn't know, in the
beginning." he admitted. "I 'captured' you before I really thought
about what I was going to do with you. I guess I thought I would
use you to...um...sort of indulge my fantasies....but, well, it hasn't
really turned out that way."
She watched as they turned in to the mall parking lot. "You
know, it's hard for me to forgive that." she remarked. It was true,
she liked to forget his original intentions for her, it made it easier
to forget the past. The more she remembered the first couple
times she had seen him, the more she felt like she should just tell
him to go away. She should...but didn't want to. "I mean, what you
did to me in the beginning."
Mark sighed. "Yeah. But actually, that's not really the truth
either, I mean, what I said before. I wanted more from you than
just someone to indulge my fantasies with. Look, wait until we get
to the restaurant, all right? We can talk there."
Jennifer didn't answer, she quickly lost herself in thought.
She thought about the second time, with the limo and the fancy
french restaurant. It would have been a really impressive first
date, if it had been a date and if she had had a choice whether to go
or not. He didn't have to go through all that glitz, not if she was
just something to indulge his fantasies.
Mark parked, and they walked in silence into the mall. The
place was fairly crowded, but not overly so, and Jennifer followed
Mark down the plastic walkways towards the restaurant. Finally,
they reached the entrance to a dimly lit dining area. A sign in front
read "Mark's Cafe." Jennifer looked at him curiously, and he
shrugged.
"My place." he said.
A pretty young lady inside happily greeted Mark, and led them
to what she said was "Mark's table." It was a small isolated area in
the corner, and was bordered on two sides by a thriving green
garden that provided an artificial out-doorsy atmosphere. The
chairs were extra plush and soft, and Jennifer settled comfortably
across from Mark. Once again, she fought off being impressed. Mark
could surely do a thousand times better if he really wanted to; she
had no reason, really, to be impressed. But, she was. Just a little.
After ordering two large orange juices (Mark said the orange
juice was especially good) he turned to her. "All right." he said.
"Let's talk."
When it finally began, Jennifer wasn't really sure how to get
it started. She finally settled on an old question. "Why did you
leave that Saturday?" she asked.
Mark picked up his knife, and started poking his napkin
glumly. "I don't know. I watched for awhile, and then...well, I don't
know. It seemed like you were more with him than with me,
anymore, so I kind of thought I would leave you two alone. It just
seemed like you had forgotten about the game, you having too much
fun with him. And then I kind of thought, about what you
were...um...what I was turning you into. Or what you were becoming.
I suppose I got attacked by a heavy dose of self-doubt, finally I
just left."
Jennifer waited to see if he was finished, then spoke quietly.
"I came looking for you afterwards. I looked all over, but you were
gone. I hadn't forgotten you." Well, that wasn't entirely true. She
hadn't forgotten him, but she hadn't been exactly thinking about
him, either. "I guess you were my excuse, Mark. If you wanted me
to do something, I could do it, and enjoy it, and then just say I did
it because of you. I guess it let me act like a slut."
"You're not a slut, Jennifer." Mark said. She was surprised by
the intense tenderness in his voice. "Just because you enjoy sex
doesn't make you a slut, it just makes you a human."
Jennifer sighed and touched his hand. It was sweet to say, but
he didn't understand. "Thanks, Mark. But I AM a slut. After that
saturday, I had sex with Francisco...he was the guy in the park. I
didn't really enjoy it, I did it because I felt I had to. I kind of felt
like he saw me as a slut, and I had to act that way. No, I can't
continue the way I've been going with you. I'm changing too much."
Mark was quiet for a moment. Finally, he spoke. "So, how are
things going to go between us now? No more games of controlling
Jennifer?"
"Mark, do you love me?" Jennifer asked.
Perhaps she meant to catch him off-guard, to base his
emotions on his reaction. Whatever, it was the next question she
most often asked herself, and she wanted to know the answer. She
certainly got the surprise she had expected; Mark was momentarily
struck dumb. She was afraid he would refuse to answer, and when
he stopped to consider, she was afraid he didn't know.
Finally he spoke. "Whatever I say..." he said slowly "I can
always make you forget it later."
Jennifer just nodded, waiting.
Mark was silent for a moment longer, and then nodded
slightly. "Yes, Jennifer. I think I do. I think I love you."
Jennifer didn't know what she had expected, but when he
answered yes, it took her completely by surprise. She didn't know
how to react. But it seemed she didn't have to worry about that, a
smile crept onto her face, and she said, "You do?"
"Yes, I do." he said, eyeing her with trepidation.
Jennifer leaned back, letting the smile blossom on her face.
Wow, she thought to herself. He actually does love me. Even more,
he admits it. She wondered what this was the start of. Whatever it
was, she felt very, very good.
"Well?" demanded Mark after a moment.
"What?" she asked. She looked at him with glimmering eyes;
he looked different now that she knew he loved her. More gentle,
less threatening.
"Well, do you love me?"
Jennifer let a moment slip by, pretending to consider, not
because she really had any doubts as to what the answer was, but
just to make it look like she was still a little uncertain. A game of
controlling Mark. "Yeah. As crazy as it seems, I think I might love
you, too."
"That is crazy." he said. But he didn't look unhappy. He looked
like he wanted to hug her, and finally he did.
"I know it's crazy." Jennifer whispered. "After all you've put
me through..." She felt his hold tighten.
"You enjoyed some of it, Jennifer, I know you did." he said. His
hand tickled the hair at the back of her neck.
"Some of it." she answered. She didn't know how long they
would hold each other; Mark showed no signs of releasing her, and
she didn't particularly want to be the one to break the contact. She
liked the way Mark held her; he held her like he needed her.
Finally, they split apart slightly. Jennifer felt a foolish smile
drift onto her face despite all efforts to keep it away. Their faces
stood close to each other. Mark wasn't looking at her eyes, but
down at her lips. She thought it was funny, now that he had the
chance to kiss her freely, that he acted so nervous about it. When
he finally did bring his lips to hers and start to kiss her, it was a
trembling, uncertain kiss. A kiss from the other Mark, the
vulnerable powerless Mark, perhaps. Jennifer let it last like the
hug, keeping her lips gently against his, until he pulled away from
her.
Impulsively, she hugged him again. "Wow." she said. "I've
always wanted to have you kiss me like that, without your power
or anything."
Just then, the lady appeared with two glasses of orange juice.
Jennifer accepted hers, and the lady took their order. Mark
suggested the hamburgers; he said they were good, so Jennifer
ordered one.
The lady walked away, saying it would be as fast as possible.
Mark told her to take her time, they were in no hurry. He turned
back to Jennifer. "It's different." he said. "Without the power, I
mean."
"How?" she asked.
"Just different. More mechanical. Your lips kiss me, but you
yourself don't. Kind of like that."
"Really?" It seemed to make sense. "Is that why you seemed
disappointed, when I kissed you after the dance?"
He nodded. "Yeah, that was why. Well, that was part of the
reason, anyway." He didn't go on, and she didn't press the point.
"Hmm..." she smiled. "So is sex the same way?"
"Huh?"
"Sex. Is it mechanical when you use your power? Would my body make
love to you, but I wouldn't?"
He shrugged. "It's a very slight distinction." he said. "But yes,
it's the same way."
This brought another nagging question into her mind. "Have
you used your power on a lot of women? To make them have sex
with you, or whatever?"
"Do you really want to know?" he asked.
Jennifer thought a moment. "No." she finally admitted. "No, I
don't think I want to know." Not now, anyhow, she thought to
herself. Not while things seemed to be going well. Eventually, she
would probably have to come to grips with Mark and how he used
his power. But not yet.
Then, Jennifer started wondering what it would be like. She
didn't think she would notice the distinction between sex by
control and actual sex. What if she noticed a guy that was
particularly attractive to her? Would it be wrong to have Mark
'suggest' to him that he be attracted to Jennifer, too?
Yes, it would be! she answered herself. It would be exactly
like what Mark had done to her when he had first used his power on
her. She forced the thought out of her mind. It was tempting,
yes...but it was wrong.
"What are you thinking about?" Mark asked. Jennifer's mind
raced for a moment, trying to decide whether to tell him or not.
Finally, she decided, why not? If thus far was any indication, their
relationship was going to be pretty interesting sexually anyhow.
"I was thinking about sex." she said. "About whether it would
be wrong for you to 'talk' a guy into being physically attracted to
me."
"If you wanted, I could have an entire military regiment have
nothing more on their minds but pleasing you sexually, Jennifer."
That thought, and the way he said it, so matter-of-factly, put a
rush through her. She squeezed her legs together, rubbing her inner
thighs against each other.
"No." she said. "I decided it WOULD be wrong. I don't want you
to do that."
"It's not as wrong as you think, Jennifer. You can make it
worth their while most times. With my power, I can make sex ten
times better for the person I'm screwing. Believe me, sex is very
satisfying for these people; they never leave unhappy."
Jennifer shook her head. "It's still wrong." she insisted. "They
don't have a choice in the matter."
Mark just shrugged. "So?" he asked. "Is it wrong to make
someone happy against their will? Sure, I might have fun with it,
too, but that doesn't make it wrong."
Jennifer was about to reply, when the lady came by with their
hamburgers. "Here you go." she smiled as she sat the food down.
"That'll be on the house, of course."
"Fine, Terry." Mark smiled back. "How's work going?"
"It's all right. It's always kind of empty this time of day."
Terry had long brown hair in a braid, and pretty brown eyes with
long eyelashes. She was dressed like a typical waitress, in a pink
uniform that reminded Jennifer of the outfit the waitresses wore
on the show 'Alice.' It was fairly tight on Terry, though, and
showed off her curves. Jennifer wondered whether it was just
coincidence that such an pretty lady would know Mark by name, or
whether it was something more.
She didn't have to wonder long. Mark spoke. "Well, would you
like to take a break?" he asked. And at those words, a distant
smile slipped onto Terry's face, and she started to unbutton her
uniform.
Jennifer turned to stare at Mark. "A mental suggestion I
planted in her mind." He explained. "Whenever I ask that, it makes
her want to have sex."
Jennifer was about to protest, but Terry spoke up. "Yeah." she
said, her breathing coming quick, and her voice content. "And I'm
glad Mark's always here when I get into these moods...he never
minds." Terry had finished undoing the buttons of her blouse, and
she pulled it open. She was wearing a bra made out of some heavy
fabric; her breasts were large and strained against the
constraining material. Without even showing any consideration for
the fact that they were in a restaurant, she slipped off the blouse,
and popped the clasp on her bra. She slipped off the fabric. Her
breasts heaved out of their restraints; they were large, with big
nipples and indentions where the bra had pushed into her skin.
"I don't believe you're making her do this." Jennifer said.
"He's not making me do this." said Terry. "I want to! Mark
always makes me feel so good." She gave him a shy smile, and
started to slip out of her skirt.
Jennifer glanced around, and realized no one could really see
them where they were. She now knew why Mark's regular place was
so isolated. When she looked back, Terry had added her skirt to the
pile of clothes and without any hesitation, yanked off her panties.
Her slit was camouflaged by coarse brown hair, but Jennifer could
smell a musky scent of arousal emanating from it, and as she
watched, she saw a bead of juice drip from Terry's pussy, hanging
on a long line like a spider until it got pressed and rubbed between
Terry's legs. Her panties joined the rest of the clothes.
"Well, Jennifer?" asked Mark.
"Make her put her clothes on and go away, Mark." Jennifer said.
"Please, Mark."
Terry's eyes widened, and she looked at Mark, biting her lip.
"Mark..." she said, a pleading tone adding a tenor quality to her
husky voice.
"Terry..." said Mark. "Jennifer seems to dislike you. Why don't
you try and change her mind? You'll receive the same pleasure from
her body as you will from mine."
"Mark, don't..." Jennifer warned, but even as she turned to face
him, she felt a warm body sliding beside her. A warm naked body,
Terry's body, and she could smell the arousal between Terry's legs.
Terry leaned into Jennifer, but Jennifer just pulled away, pressing
against Mark.
"Mark, make her stop. Now. I'm not a lesbian." Jennifer
commanded him.
"What's the difference?" he asked. "A woman's mouth is just
like a man's, isn't it? It can bring the same pleasure."
"It's not the same." Jennifer insisted. Terry was trying to
caress Jennifer's shoulder, but Jennifer kept pulling back, pressing
herself against Mark's side. "Mark, NOW!"
Mark sighed. "All right. Terry, stop." Terry stopped, and pulled
away, her face crumpled in frustration. "Here's the way it's going
to work. Terry, under the table." Jennifer perked up in surprise as
Terry slid under the table. She turned to Mark, and only had a
chance to see a glint in his eyes before she felt his mind extending
control over hers. "Jennifer, you will forget that Terry is a girl,
and you will unable to tell that Terry is a girl. You will only be
aware of the part of her that is touching you. Her hand. Her lips
maybe." Jennifer felt her awareness getting cut away, limited by
Mark's power. And then, they were all alone. Just them. No one else.
Their food had arrived, and Jennifer felt hungry. She realized
she hadn't eaten anything when she had originally gone out to eat,
with Fransisco. She picked up her hamburger and bit into it. Mark
had been right; it was really good.
"Good?" he asked. He had a smug grin on his face.
"Yeah, really good. You were...ooh!" Jennifer cut off her
sentence abruptly, as she realized a finger was slipping along her
inner leg. She felt it slip up her thigh, into her shorts. It stroked
against her smooth skin, just stopping from slipping into the leg
hole of her panties. She was startled for a moment, before she
remembered; someone was under the table. Just a finger. She
opened her legs slightly to give the finger easier access.
"I was right?" Mark grinned. "Good?"
"Yeah." she gulped. "Good. Mark...who's under the table?" The
finger was stroking Jennifer's pussy now, through the silk of her
panties, rubbing against her lips. She could feel herself starting to
get wet, her fluids beginning to permeate the fabric of her panties.
The finger was joined by another, both swirling against her slit.
"Don't worry about it." Mark said. "Just enjoy it while you're
eating your hamburger." He winked. "This place gives you great
service." Jennifer glanced at him, disturbed by the change she saw
in him. She was with a different Mark now, not the open one she
had come here with, but the controller. The over-confident one. The
one with the grin. She was going to say something, but then the
finger found her clit, and she sucked in her breath, tensing as the
finger teased her pleasure button.
Mark took his hamburger and started eating it, seemingly
enjoying the show.
"What's going on?" burst Jennifer, even as she leaned forward,
pressing her pelvis into the probing hand. It slipped into her
panties, and now she could feel the fingers directly against her
vagina, probing into her slit. She gave up eating her hamburger, and
leaned back closing her eyes, feeling the finger push inside her, as
another finger moved in circles on her clit. She felt the sexual
pleasure start to build. My god, she thought, Mark's going to make
me orgasm in the middle of the restaurant. The thought of this only
thrilled her more, and when the hand extracted itself and started
to pull on the waist of her shorts, Jennifer obliged by closing her
legs and letting the hands slide her shorts and panties down her
legs. Jennifer felt the seat against the bare flesh of her backside.
Then the hands started teasing her pussy again, and she slid
forward and spread her legs to give them better access.
As she enjoyed the probing between her legs, her eyes fell on
the clothes to the side. A woman's clothes. Terry's clothes. She
remembered Terry, but where had she gone? The way Mark was
acting, he was using his power. He was making her forget Terry.
Terry was under the table. That had to be it. The fingers playing
with her belonged to...a woman.
The knowledge almost quenched Jennifer's sexual heat, but
then she felt a hot mouth against her pussy, a soft tongue probing
her. And it didn't matter anymore. Jennifer had never engaged in
oral sex before, either receiving or giving, and it was an amazing
sensation. It slipped into crevices fingers couldn't reach, and when
the tongue slid into her, she gasped. Lips pressed against the
swollen lips of her slit, and then the tongue moved onto her clit,
slipping under the hood and licking her with such an intensity that
she almost cried out. I'm close, Jennifer thought. Very close. And
then the tongue slid over her, from top to bottom, ending on her
clit, and that pushed her over.
She had had bigger orgasms, and this one was snuffed as soon
as it broke through that it had been Terry that had brought her to
the climax. She still wasn't sure about having another woman
administer to her body, although she admitted it wasn't that
different. It was just the thought of it.
"How was it?" asked Mark.
"Good." she said. She leaned back flushed. I should pull on my
shorts, she thought, but it was too much effort. Besides, she didn't
really care. No one could see her but Mark, anyway. Mark and Terry.
"Terry, why don't you come up here?" said Mark, smiling at
Jennifer. Terry popped up next to Mark, still naked. Mark grinned at
Jennifer, but this faded to disappointment when she failed to
react.
"You don't seem surprised that you just got brought off by a
woman." he said, his voice holding a trace of annoyance.
"Oh, I could tell." she said, secretly liking his disappointment.
"Woman do it differently." Jennifer noticed Terry was also flushed
and sweating. Mark absent-mindedly dropped his hand between
Terry's legs and started bringing her to her own climax. Jennifer
noticed that he barely touched her, but it seemed to be doing the
trick.
"How would you know?" he asked. He continued to tap on
Terry's slit, and finally she fell into a shuddering climax. Mark
pulled his hand back and ignored her.
Jennifer took his other hand, and pulled it between her legs.
"Guys just feel different." she smiled. Mark disappointed her by
pulling his hand back, but then he kissed her on the cheek, and she
felt better.
Terry got dressed. "Why don't you get dressed, too, Jen?" Mark
prompted. "So we can leave." Jennifer noticed he had finished his
hamburger, probably while she had been approaching her orgasm.
"We can't leave yet." she insisted. "I haven't eaten my
hamburger." She noticed Terry waving as she walked away, and
Jennifer waved back. Mark was watching her as she started eating
her hamburger again. She looked at him between bites. "Why don't
you make yourself useful?" she said, her eyes shining with
mischief.
"How?" he asked.
In answer, she took his hand and put it between her legs
again. "Show me the difference between a girl and a guy." she said.
She pressed his fingers against her wet slit.
He tried to pull his hand back again. "There is no difference."
he told her. "Hands are the same." Jennifer held his hand tightly
against her.
"Well, then, do to me the same thing you did to Terry. Make me
shudder. Make me so hot that I have to put down my hamburger."
She took another bite of the burger. It WAS pretty good.
Mark's hand lay limply against her vagina, and then he started
making some clumsy motions with his fingers. His hand lacked
experience, something that surprised her, and he was completely
missing her pleasure points. By the time Jennifer was finishing off
her hamburger, she wasn't even close to any sort of orgasm. She
just felt frustrated.
"Mark...come on." She said, rubbing the back of his hand. "Touch
me like you did Terry." He had brought Terry off in less than a
minute. But his fingers stopped their movement, and when she
looked at him, he seemed downcast.
"Jennifer..." he said "the only reason Terry got off so fast was
that I have a suggestion in her mind that if I just touch her pussy,
it'll bring her to orgasm. To be honest, Jennifer....that's really the
only way I've ever satisfied women. With my power. I'm really not
sure how else to do it."
She stared at him. "Seriously?"
Mark nodded. "Seriously. I can give you the most mind-blowing
orgasms you'll ever have in your life with my power...but I'm not
really sure how else to do it. I've never really worried about that
before."
Jennifer still held his hand between her legs, but now she
actually clasped his hand in hers. "But I don't want you to use your
power. I want you to do it yourself." she said. She suppressed a
smile. So Mark, despite his previous experience, was a lot like a
virgin. He knew how to please himself, but not another.
That's all right, she thought. I'll teach him how. And she did
smile. She reached under the table to get her shorts. "Let's get
ready to go." she said.
To be continued
Danny Reinker wrote this.
This story is fictional.
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