AUTHOR'S NOTE: Tom Crawford inherits a ring from his grandfather on his 21st birthday.
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Many thanks to Lxndr for his input on this chapter's direction, as well as all the constructive criticism from everyone.
Tom got in the Mercedes and started it up, leaving Weiss Hall in a hurry before anything else unusual could happen. Between his mom's zoning out, her calling him Thomas, the offer to use her Mercedes, Dr. Portillo's change of heart on the essay, and Sheri's way of thanking him for getting the essay dropped, he was officially freaked out.
As Tom pulled into the driveway, he saw that his car was gone. "At least I have a little time to myself before Mom returns," he said softly. Tom grabbed the mail from the mailbox, walked inside the house, and headed to his room to check Google for a few things that he became curious about due to the day's events. His first search was on the phrase
FORTES FORTUNA IUVAT
. Google provided 'Fortune favors the strong' as the translation from Latin to English. Interesting.
Tom then searched on 'mind control rings', 'mental powers', 'Browne, Holt, Banks and Simmons', and 'signs of mental instability on 21st birthday'. Of the searches he performed, only the search on the UK law firm had any useful information. Browne, Holt, Banks and Simmons was a well-respected firm, founded in the 19th century, and specializing in business law, estate law, international law, and negotiation and conflict resolution. According to what scant records Tom was able to find online, the firm had a small client list. Those clients typically had been with the firm for generations. Tom read with interest the web page describing the founding of the firm, which made mention of the initial client families. The Crawford family name was among the names on that short list of charter clients.
"OK, nothing useful online about this ring," Tom thought. "Let's try experimenting some more, and see if it has any other strange abilities." Tom tried removing the ring, but as he began to slide it off his middle finger, a pulsing and throbbing pain in his head appeared, followed by his vision becoming blurry and the sound of the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway becoming deafeningly loud. As soon as Tom grabbed the sides of his head in pain, the agony vanished. Tom tried once more, and the same excruciating pain returned, but once he stopped trying to remove the ring, the pain was again gone.
"So much for taking this thing off! Looks like I am stuck with this for now," Tom grumbled to himself. He got out a notepad and jotted down some notes about his experiment. "Removing ring -- instant onset migraine. Let's not try that again." Tom looked at the page, then wrote down several more items: "Thinking about Mom not calling me Tommy -- immediate behavior change. Asking Dr. Portillo if we can skip the essay -- immediate behavior change. Thinking about Sheri 'thanking' me -- immediate behavior change." The last item really bothered Tom as he considered it. He had never really intended for Sheri to give him a blowjob
Are you sure about that, Thomas? You certainly didn't try very hard to stop her. In fact, you seemed to be pretty into the whole thing, with your fingers curled in her hair as you face-fucked her.
Thomas (as he was beginning to think of himself now) could not seem to escape the words of Lord Acton, words that sounded more like an accusation than a statement, "Power corrupts...." Thomas sat introspectively for a while, wondering if this gift from his grandfather was really a curse. "I'm
not
a bad person!" Thomas shouted, though the words seemed hollow to his ears.
Sure, Thomas, you're not a bad person. You are just a guy who wanted to have a little no-strings sex. There is nothing wrong with that, right? Even though the poor girl could not really consent to what you did. That's not evil, that's just a little on the sneaky side. I mean, it's not like you thought about your mother stripping off her blouse and bra for you this morning, so that has to count for something positive...
So deep in thought was Thomas that he did not hear his mom, until she crossed over to his desk and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Thomas, are you all right? I have been calling your name for three minutes." He started at his mother's touch, and turned to look at her. "I'm sorry mom, I was just OHMYGOD Mom! What the hell are you doing?" Julie Crawford was standing next to her son, a look of concern on her face as he jumped up from his chair and backed away from her. "Mom, why the hell are you standing there topless?"
Maybe because you were just thinking about her being topless, Thomas. You see, everyone has a little evil in them.
Julie looked down at her full breasts, apparently unaffected by her son's outburst. "I don't understand, Thomas. You have never complained before today about my getting comfortable at home. May is such a humid month, and you know how I hate to feel sticky." Thomas' mind was racing --
what does she mean, I never complained before? She's never done THIS before! Am I so sick that I made my mother strip half-naked just for my own jollies? No way, I need to try to fix this. But what am I going to do, think her clothes back on?
-- but he couldn't really come up with a good solution.