On the first Sunday of March, just like every Sunday, Chris went to the bookstore. Usually he came back with a couple cheap Sci-Fi or Fantasy books, but that Sunday he found just one, very unusual, book.
It had no author or title, at least none that Chris could read, but it still called to him. Maybe it was the strange, almost illuminated, designs on the cover, which seemed to writhe in ecstasy when he looked at them too long.
Maybe it was just the mystery of it.
When he got home and read the book, it was full of advice. Advice on how to mold people's minds like clay, rebuilding them in your own image. Normally Chris wouldn't buy into something like that, but there was something about the book that made him think twice about dismissing it. It had a power to it.
Naturally, being the sort of man he was, Chris first tested it on a beautiful woman. He did not know her. He did not even know her name.
He saw her across the food court at a restaurant. She had long black hair and was curvy in all the right places.
If the book was right then she would be at Chris' apartment begging him to have his way with her body by the end of the week. If the book was wrong, she would continue her life as normal, none the wiser. No harm no foul.
It was all reward and no risk, at least as far as Chris could tell.
He could imagine her on her knees, begging for his cum with her voice and face and mind and body. It was a nice thought. Nicer still was the knowledge that if this book worked she would be just the first of many.
The next couple of days passed relatively ordinarily. He had decided to leave the book be while he waited to see if it worked. He spent his time playing video games and watching television and reading rather more ordinary books.
He was reading one such book, concerning the exploits of an interstellar navy in the distant future, when he heard a knock on his door. It was the woman from the food court. The book actually worked.
His mind reeled with possibilities. All of the fantasies he had been wanking over for the last couple days would soon come to pass.
As he opened the door, he wondered what she would first say.
"What did you do?" She demanded
"What do you mean?" Chris responded, very convincingly if he did say so himself.
"Don't play dumb." The woman said "You're clearly using a variation on the Keryon protocal with an erotic base. I'm mostly wondering if your delivery method is memetic, sonorific, or what. How'd ya lockpick my Ariadne Box?"
None of that had been in the book.
"What?" Chris asked, shortly before realizing that asking his future sex slave about complicated pseudoscientific terminology should be the last thing on his mind.
Chris had imagined her being the one asking him about complicated pseudoscientific terminology, right before sucking him off, and he could explain the bullshit space algebra from his favorite adventure stories while she had his dick in his mouth, all while she was looking up at him with wide, curious eyes, like what he was saying was the most interesting thing in the world.
He was so caught up in this reverie, close as it was to fruition, that he didn't fully register what she said next.
"I got played by a goddamn amateur. Bianca's never gonna let me hear the end of this." she said, exasperated.
"Who's Bianca?" Chris asks
"My partner."
"Maybe you could... invite her over?"
"She's already coming," the lady had begun absentmindedly removing her shirt. The plan was back on track.
"For a threesome?"
"Yeah. Sure. Let's say that."
"Maybe you could suck me off in the mean time?" Chris asked, and was delighted when, just as he had expected, she got down on her knees, no questions asked, as though it was the most ordinary thing in the world.
He was even more delighted when she undid his fly, reaching into his underwear and pulling out his member, rock hard already just from imagining this moment, or one much like it.
`He was positively ecstatic when she brought it into her mouth. As her velvet-soft lips closed around his pulsating cock and her tongue skillfully wrapped around it in all the right places, as he placed a hand at the back of her head and she bobbed up and down to the rhythm he set, all he could think was that it felt even better than he ever thought it could.
"Oh god." he moaned.
She answered with a low whimper in the back of her throat.
Chris had never had a blowjob before, and was not exactly thinking straight.
If he had, and he was, he might have noticed some unusual things about this one in particular. Primarily the brand of singular focus she seemed to possess, she lacked any of the confusion or uncertainty that might have been expected of a woman in her position. She was not confused as to why she was doing this, or as to why she was enjoying it. She seemed to understand precisely the position she was in, but she was neither fighting against the wave nor letting herself drown in it.
Instead she seemed to be, for lack of a better term, to be surfing it.
She was in fact as comfortable and practiced in the metaphysical aspects of this encounter as she was in the physical aspects of it.
And she seemed very practiced indeed in the physical aspects of it. She sucked him off virtuosically, applying tongue and pressure so precisely that, despite his hand forcibly setting her tempo, she managed to give him a full minute of ecstasy, driving him to the brink of orgasm and pulling back again and again, building up his already not inconsiderable pressure until-
"Fuck, I'm coming!" Chris yelled, as he held her head against his crotch with both hands and pumped what felt like gallons of seed down her throat.
She responded with a guttural, moaning. scream of pleasure around his cock and full body shudder that Chris surmised, based on porn and based on the book, to be an orgasm of her own.
As she separated her head from his crotch, bits of cum escaping from her open mouth, she shrugged off her now-unbuttoned white dress shirt and removed her bra in a way that was both professionally methodical and tantalizingly erotic.
She let a single drop of his cum drool out from her violated mouth and onto her bare breasts.
Then she stood up, removing her skirt (black, somewhere between schoolgirl and business casual) and her shoes (heels, black, business casual erring on the side of business) leaving her naked except for her panties (white, frilly, ever-so-slightly transparent).
She stood there for a second, presenting herself like a piece of meat, before posing provocatively, pushing her boobs towards Chris.
Lifting them towards her face and licking them.
Lathering them with her cum-stained tongue.
Marking them with his seed.
Despite having just cum, Chris was still remarkably excited by this display. His flaccid cock twitched at it. She smiled up at him seductively.
"So, master," she said,
"you don't mind if I call you master?"
Chris most certainly did not.
"What do you want to do next?" she asked, licking her lips as she spun around, displaying her ass as well as her tits to Chris, to her master.
Perhaps he should have been concerned about this sudden apparent change in attitude from the exacerbated sarcasm she had displayed before the blowjob. If he had been thinking clearly he might have, but he was not thinking clearly.
Anyway, why look a gift horse in the mouth, it was probably just the pleasure the book had given her from serving him kicking in.
Nothing to worry about.
Surely, nothing to worry about.
Surely.
He responded to her entreaty by walking up behind her and grabbing her breasts roughly, eliciting a gasp of pleasure. As he continued manhandling her, she began rubbing up against him, dry-humping his still-hardening cock with her panty-clad ass.
The two of them continued like this, making various gasps, moans, whimpers and other noises of pleasure for well over a minute while Chris allowed himself to become intimately familiar with his first pair of physical breasts. The pleasant rhythmic motion of a pair of actual panties against his cock didn't hurt either.
