To whoever reads this story :
Firstly, this story is complete and can be read on its own.
Secondly, please be warned that this is one of my earlier works, and was intended to be just one quick chapter in a compilation of themed stories... Basically I wanted to write one story for each of the majority of the standard literotica categories. I will post some of the other chapters when I can, but the compilation itself was never finished.
Thirdly,
italics
are used to indicate thoughts, and
bold
is used to indicate emphasis.
Finally, this story contains
one scumbag
, several women, some drugs and a liberal dosage of heterosexual sex with a sprinkling of lesbian sex.
===============
Ysoi's Early Works - Mind Control Mode
18/September/2054 ~19:30Hrs.
How much can I get away with?
He swallows. Tears his gaze from the small packet of powder that lies by the equipment and refreshments cabinet. Glances about the otherwise empty room. Smells the faint but lingering odour of sex that still fills the air within its glass walls. That clings to the soft cushioning that covers the floor. That reminds him of the sometimes frenzied, often passionate and always lascivious acts that have taken place within the room into which he has stumbled.
How long till the centre's staff realize I shouldn't be here?
He glances away. Wipes his brow and swallows once more. Knows that he can still escape through the VIP lounge's single door. That he doesn't have to push his luck. That if he leaves now he can plead innocence even if he is caught doing so.
The powder beckons him, though. Calls to him with a siren's voice that brushes aside both the now seemingly distant taunts and challenges that drove him to sneak into the room as well as the fear that had started to speak with volume equal to that of his false bravado. How many men of any status, let alone his own, have stood in a room like this one before? He bites his lower lip. Narrows his eyes then grins. The powder reminds him that it can give him things more valuable than the approval of the friends who challenged him. More exciting even than the orgies that will soon play across the darkly shining walls. Than the images of women driven wild with lust that he can almost see imprinted into the warm, moist air itself.
He takes one slow and cautious step backwards. Takes a deep breath. How much would that unassuming bag cost on the street? He has no idea, has no clue how he could even go about selling something so insanely valuable, but it doesn't matter. His thoughts are on matters more immediately satisfying anyway. The things that he imagines make his head swim, make his heart pound. Make his cock ache and thrust upward with a strength that he had thought stolen by middle-age.
He wonders how many women he can request before the staff realize that he has no right to be there. Wonders just what they will show him as they ravage and fuck not just him but each other in helpless and all-consuming lust. Prays that he will see his fantasies brought to life. That they will do before him what only the women within his favourite porno's have done before. That they will rut and fuck like animals. That their desire for him will turn into rivalry towards each other. Into something nastier. More violent than sexual.
"
Oh fuckin' shit!...
"
He shudders and groans. Tenses and closes his eyes. Grasps the bulge at his loins as firmly as he dares. He shakes his head once the threat of orgasm has passed. Turns and scrambles for the bag with all other thoughts removed. Kneels crouching before it and lifts it as if it is a newborn child. Examines it as if it's a gift bestowed directly upon him by Gods until then uninterested in his perverted desires.
Automa.
There's a single word scrawled in marker pen close to the zipped shut opening. He mouths it silently. It's an unknown word. A word unencountered during the experiments of his teenage years and the escapes from reality of those that had followed. He ponders the dosage and effects. Feels certain that it could only be an aphrodisiac like those rumoured. Grins at the thought that he kneels in a building no doubt filled with women upon whom he can test it.
"Master Turner?!"
A gasp of surprise from the door behind him. He gives a start. Clutches the bag so tightly that it almost tears. Shoves it into one pocket then stands up unsteadily. Wonders if the woman will be as young as she sounds. If she will be as weak as she is young. If his shaken spirit will carry him to her before she can think to question his presence. If it will suffice to silence her voice before she can alert her superiors to his presence.
"Ah, I'm sorry it's late! We were told you'd been delayed!"
She's young. A beauty enough to stop and hold him in his place. Tall for a woman but only just up to his shoulders. Almost as lean as himself but far fitter. She moves more quickly than he could imagine. Becomes a blur of flaming red hair, gently bronzed flesh, white blouse and skirt. She gazes up at him through wide and slanted grey eyes whilst her blue-tinted lips grin in delight. Traces the bulge in his trousers with delicate fingers then grins naughtily as he tenses and shivers.
"Name's Cristal by the way, but you're a handsome one, aren't you. I think I'm gonna love sucking this thing dry." she steps past him as quickly as she had approached. Brushes her fingers across his well-toned belly. Pushes her firm buttocks against him before kneeling besides the cabinet and swinging the door open. "Five, wasn't it? One slut and four girls, wasn't it? Girls for looking but not touching, and myself for everything else, right? Fuck, I'm so lucky!"
He hears the clinking of champagne glasses beneath the rapid flow of her words. Goes to turn towards her then stiffens once more as she pushes up against him from behind. Hears the cabinet door click shut but can focus only upon the feel of her hands unbuttoning her blouse, of the small and firm breasts that thrust towards him beneath them.
"How do you like your champagne, Mister Turner? Glass, bottle, tits or pussy? Personally I like it out of a nice and juicy pussy, but I'm not flexible enough to do that under these conditions so I'll leave it up to you! Mind you, that's not to say I shan't get my favourite drink before the nights up!" she shrugs out of her blouse as she giggles once more. Pushes her undeniably erect teats against his back then reaches around to caress his manhood not with her fingers but with the base of a bottle of champagne instead.
"Holy
fuck
Mister Turner! What on earth have you been feeding this thing?!" she works the bottle up and down his length as if oblivious to his pleasure. Pops the cork from the wide top then switches hands agilely to unbutton and unzip his trousers. "Well, I've been told champagne a'la hard-on is just as tasty, but I've not tried that yet... How about it? Why don't I find out now? It's not every day we get a new hunk in the VIP lounge, and if we could just get this beautiful thing out, I'd love to find out before the girls get here! Maybe let you shoot into the bottle a bit as well? Girls are no-touching, but what they don't know won't hurt them!"
He wants to tell her to slow down. To stop. Wants to tell her that he should be in charge, that she should surrender to his orders. He can do nothing but arch his back against her and tremble in helpless pleasure though. He gasps and shudders and whimpers in shock as she guides his knob to the bottle's cold and wet entrance. Stiffens and whimpers again as she grasps his length and wanks him not just rapidly but eagerly towards the still-fizzing liquid.
"God fucking damn, it's a fucking
