Fucking My Mind Pt 02

Author's Note.

This is a story about control. Control and manipulation. Control, manipulation, dominance, submission and most importantly it is about relationships. It is also about contrasts and differences in the roles we adopt dependent upon who we are with. Having said that it is not really about BDSM or pain or tying up or spanking or blindfolds or butt plugs or gags. It is more about a man taking control of a woman through his personality and of her welcoming that control and direction.

I am not sure that there is a Literotica category that is really suitable. Yes, of course Mind Control is a consideration, but then so is BDSM and Chain Stories. I guess I will switch around as I publish each part.

At the heart of the story is Guy Bresterton, a university professor and Christina a highly successful investment banker. Her bank sponsors a digital library at Cambridge University and that is how they meet. She is in her late thirties, is divorced and has a very demanding and powerful job where she manages a team of over 150, mainly men. Not believing in marriage or monogamy, Guy is single.

Christina has little time to build relationships of any depth or length and consequently she leads a largely disappointing sex life. Although not in favour of one-night stands, she buys sex. She has a network of escort agencies in the cities she visits most frequently and anonymously they provide her with the men she needs to satisfy her. She has no difficulty at all in intellectualising and reconciling the differences between her beliefs and behaviour

Guy is a sexual adventurer. He is a non-conformist with strong and creative beliefs. He is also an exceedingly bright and intelligent man and that is one of Christina's fetishes: she is far more interested in what a lover has between his ears than between his legs.

The story is quite long so I have broken it down into several parts, each of which should stand alone as a meaningful story. Obviously it would be preferable if the parts were read in a chronological order, but that is up to the reader.

There are two other points of relevance at this stage.

Firstly, Guy fucks Christina the afternoon they meet.

And secondly, I am Christina.

*

Part 2 - Guy Gaining Control.

I masturbate in my car with him on the phone.

I am not a tramp. I'm not a slut, I'm not easy and I don't give it away or put it around to all and sundry. Before last night I'd had sex probably no more than a dozen times in the past year and four or five of them were paid for when I was travelling. I didn't want any involvement or emotional entanglement with men, or women come to that.

Just why the hell then had I gone back to this Cambridge University Professor of Humanities rooms in Corpus Christi College and let him fuck me for nearly an hour? That was a mystery. But I had and it fascinated and excited me. Why? Three reasons above all else was my conclusion.

One him. Guy Bresterton was probably the most intelligent man I had ever met and I am a sucker for brightness; give me a big brain every time over a big dick. He and his mind were the reasons I went to his rooms after the luncheon party and the meeting.

The second reason was why I did act like a tramp? It was, I was thinking as I drove my Porsche down the M11 towards my Dockland's apartment, because he treated me like one. Daft reason I know, but thinking through the situation as I drove along the uncrowded motorway that Sunday evening around midnight, I was sure the combination of his intelligence, his manner and that approach, was why I behaved so differently to the norm. He moved my goalposts, took me out of my comfort zone, treated me with utmost respect as a sexual plaything, but with scorn as anything else. And on top of that he had the most amazingly blue eyes with which he stared intently, melting my resistance and creating an easy entrance for him into my knickers.

The third was the most intriguing and in some ways most worrying for me. I am in banking. I work in M & A for one of the world's largest and most successful investment banks. I deal continually with other professionals, most of who are men. In my area of involvement, women take notes, make tea and clear up the conference rooms after the meeting. They do not manage either the proceedings or other people. I do though. My job is to direct, control and motivate others, it is to persuade and negotiate, lead and influence. At work I have to be and am powerful.

In my relationships, sexual or otherwise, I have always been at least a partner if not the dominant one. So why the fuck had I let Guy so completely and utterly dominate me and why had I so easily and willingly been submissive to him? Even worse I was thinking as I went past Stansted why did I not regret it? Why was I not pissed off at that and why did I not feel guilty about both what I did and how I was so supplicant to him? Compounding everything was that even now just half an hour or so since he had fucked me I wanted him again.

Kali had invited me to the luncheon and introduced me to Guy. She now worked for me as my group's Human Resource Director. She was the bank's liaison with the University and thus, with Guy. She hadn't said as much, but I became sure during the day that a lot of their liaison was probably carried on with her lying on her back with Guy between her legs. Now, having had sex with him, I wasn't so sure that she would have been on her back, I hadn't been. I'd been turned round, bent over a table and fucked.

*

"Ok I'm off," I had said quietly coming out of the bathroom. I was wearing the halter neck, sleeveless and largely backless, cream and orange 'cocktail' dress and the white linen jacket with the sleeves rolled up a la Miami Vice.

I was surprised to see that he was still wearing just the shirt as he looked out of the small window smoking his cigar.

"Ok," he said turning slowly and looking across the comfortably furnished old fashioned manner room at me. He hadn't put on any lights so it was dim, but as he walked towards me I could hardly believe my eyes, he was fully erect. When we'd had sex, he'd made me cum several times and he'd withdrawn just after I'd climaxed. I was so worked up and sexually sated that I hadn't noticed if he'd ejaculated or not, but then I recalled as I washed there were no dribbles.

"Yes, fine," I mumbled "I'd better be going."

"Yes I guess so, but where is it?"

"Where's what?"

Smiling, coming closer and fixing me with that devastating blue eyed stare he said. "My trophy."

"I'm sorry?"

"My momento, my souvenir, my reward for what we did."

"I'm sorry Guy," I said fumbling through my oversized and bloody inconvenient bag for my car keys. "I don't understand."

"He came up closer and kissed me, pressing his erection very pointedly right into my stomach."

"Your panties Christina, where is the thong I tore from you?"

"Er," I started now feeling embarrassed as well as confused. "I'm still wearing it?"

"But why, it's torn."

"It feels odd not to wear panties."

"Ah such modesty, such conforming, such conditioning Chrissy, we will have to cure you of that", he said kissing me again. "And you being a big boss in a bank as well?" He went on breaking the kiss, holding my chin and fixing me with that amazingly intense stare of his stunning, but cold blue eyes.

Again that feeling of being controlled and directed came over me. I felt I was losing my power to direct myself and was coming under his spell. What the hell was it?

"Yes" I whispered.

"Turn round Christina."

I had no idea why, but I didn't hesitate for not doing as he asked, well ordered really, simply didn't enter my mind.

"Put your hands against the wall and support yourself."

"Why?"

"Don't ask Chrissy, you will never need to ask, always just do as I wish please."

I did and leaned forward my arms straight out, my hands against the wall.

I felt him pressing his erection against me, he rubbed it on the silk covering my bottom, the underside of it slipping into the crease of my bum. Then he moved away and, glancing back, I saw that he was kneeling behind me. Being slightly taller than my five feet seven his face was about level with my bum. I saw the long lock of blonde hair flopping over his forehead and watched as he flicked it back into place; I knew it wouldn't stay there, for it hadn't all day.

His fingers were on the hem of my dress and I realised that he was edging it up my bare, tanned legs. That sent a shiver through me, but whether that was of trepidation, lust, concern, embarrassment or excitement I wasn't sure, probably all of them. It went past the top of the back of my knees, up my lower thighs to about mid-thigh, where he stopped. He was muttering something that I couldn't quite make out and then I realised he was speaking in Latin, he sounded like the Pope! He ran his fingers very softly up and down my inner thighs, going almost up as far as the torn thong, but stopping just in time; it was hugely sexy. He pushed my dress up further, very slowly revealing my upper thighs, then my thong covered bottom to him. A gentle tug on that and of course the gusset fell away from the waist band.

"Now what's the point of that Christina?"

"None really," I admitted as I felt that blue eyed stare on my bottom and pussy.

"Then we should remove it and leave it here for display in my trophy case shouldn't we?"

"What?" I said, genuinely shocked "You'll put it on display?"

"Only for my eyes Chrissy, when I want to remember you, recall what we did, how we had sex and when I need to masturbate about you."

No man had ever spoken to me like that before and his words crashed into my mind, just as his talk on bisexuality had at the meeting earlier this afternoon.

"Because I will Christina, I most certainly will masturbate often about this," he whispered stroking the cheeks of my bottom almost with reverence. "And this," he continued, running his fingers along the lips of my pussy. "And of course these," he went on reaching up between my legs and squeezing my breasts.

"Oh Guy" I whimpered, now so under his spell I would have done anything he asked.

"Undo the halter neck" he said taking hold of the ruined thong and starting to ease it down my thighs. He quickly removed it as I pulled the Velcro on the halter at the back of the dress apart and let either side fall away from me, my leaning forward position helping it to fall from my boobs. The dress had some inbuilt support that my modest breasts needs, so I wasn't wearing a bra and they were quickly naked.

He was holding my hips, he licked the cheek of my bum.

"You may play with your tits Chrissy," he said as if he believed I needed his permission. I'm not sure I did, but nevertheless I did cup and squeeze them with one hand as I continued supporting myself with the other.

His lips and tongue were roaming over the cheeks of my bottom kissing and licking the full mounds and then gently nibbling them. That and what I was doing to myself created a wonderful mixture of sexual sensations. But they were nothing compared with what was to come.

I felt him grip each of my cheeks tightly. I gasped at the sharp pain as his fingernails dug into the soft, pliant flesh as he pulled my cheeks apart and then whimpered with pleasure as that pain combined with the pleasure of the tip of his tongue pressing right on my anus. He lubricated that with his spittle then wiggled his tongue so it slipped in a little way. That and my own caresses on my breasts sent me over the top and he gave me yet another orgasm.

"That's enough for now," he said standing up still fully erect my ripped thong in his hand. "We'll come back to that later won't we Christina?"

Without really thinking I had whispered "Yes Guy."

*

On the trip home I couldn't work out what had happened to me. Well I knew what had happened, I had been well and truly totally seduced and royally fucked. It was the why that concerned and interested me. I just wasn't and never had been like that. I didn't need sex that much, I didn't 'fall' like that, I didn't open my legs easily. But I couldn't escape the fact that I had with him and big time.

I knew I was impressed by his mind and intellect. When Kali had told me about him saying he was among the most intelligent men she had ever met and given that she had a first from Oxford that made him special. And she wasn't wrong. But there was something else and I couldn't put my finger on what it was. Yes I was fascinated by him, interested in his views and attracted by his physical appearance. That did not explain, though, why I had given myself so easily and fully to him, why I let him dominate me so completely and why I had been his to do with as he wished, for I realised that was the situation.

My phone rang.

"You do have hands free don't you?" Guy asked.

"Yes," I replied wondering how he had got my mobile number, but I didn't ask.

"Can you pull off the motorway soon."

"I think so yes, the Harlow turn off shouldn't be far."

"Good, now undo that halter neck just as you did leaning against my wall."

"Guy, I can't driving."

"Yes you can it's easy, relax, free yourself. No one will see, the doors are too high" he told me. "I know, I have done it many times."

"But what if a truck comes past?" I asked my body beginning to win against my mind.

"Stay in the outside lane, now come on" he ordered, as I found my fingers fumbling at the Velcro.

"Are they out?"

"Yes, but I am at the turn off now."

"Good, find somewhere quiet. Are your nipples hard?"

I touched them and glanced down; they were like bullets.

"Yes."

"I am naked Christina."

"Really?" Was all I managed to stammer.

"Yes very hard, thinking about you, I'm holding your panties, they feel lovely against my cock."

I exited the M25 and turned off the main road into a lane. I went along it for a while, pleased to be in the dark with no traffic around for I wasn't too sure on the window height covering my bare tits; it did feel nice though being bare breasted and having Guy telling me about my panties and his erection.

"You know what you are going to do don't you Christina?"

"I think so yes."

"What is it?"

"You want me to masturbate, yes?"

"Of course, have you found somewhere?" He asked as I found a short track leading to a gate across a field with heavy bushes either side. I reversed into it and cut the engine.

"Yes."

"I have started to wank, Chrissy and I want us to cum together."

"Oh," was all I could whimper sitting there in the dark silence of the countryside.

I pushed the central locking button and turned the interior light off as, at the same time I stroked my breasts, just as I had earlier when he made oral, anal love to me.

"Mmm it feels lovely Christina, almost as good as fucking you did. My hand feels almost like your cunt."

I didn't say anything.

"You are still there Chrissy?"

"Yes Guy."

"Pull your skirt up and open your legs."

I did.

"We both know you haven't got any panties on don't we?"

"Yes Guy," I whispered.

"Because I have them here Chrissy and I am holding them round my cock as I imagine sticking that right up your cunt. The cunt Chrissy that you have to rub, right now."

"I can't Guy."

"Don't can't me, just do it, you slut, for that's what you are and sluts do that sort of thing don't they?"

He was right, he must have been for I did do it, I did rub my cunt and I did cum with him as I lay back on the low slung front seat of my car, my tits out and my dress round my waist.

*

I got a text message the next day.

'It was all great, I want to do it again soon, G'

But then I heard nothing for over two weeks. I was relieved, I think. It had all been extreme and disturbing. Perhaps I should just put it down to experience and forget about it, I thought. He and what we had got up to were way out of my league. I tried calling Kali at home, but remembered she was at the bank's world HR convention in San Francisco so I left messages there and on her mobile. On the Tuesday I got an email from her asking. 'Was a good time had by one and all?'

I was in a meeting in Mayfair with the management team of a company that was making a billion pound bid for another business when my phone vibrated. It was a text.

'I want you again, contact me, G.'

My heart pounded and my pulse raced. Surely I could and should ignore it or say no. Looking around to ensure I wasn't being watched as texting in meetings was frowned upon I typed.

'When?'

'ASAP'

'Today?'

'Yes, this afternoon at 3, ok?'

'Ok'

'Call when you get to Cambridge, don't wear much and no bra.'

I was trembling, I felt hot and then cold, and then sick. What was I doing? I looked at my watch

"Er excuse me Richard,"

"Yes Christina."

"I'm sorry, I've had something come up, I have to go."

"You can't leave us now" the Finance Director said rather sharply. "Excuse me for five minutes" I said walking out of the large meeting room.

I called the number showing and Guy immediately answered.

"I'm sorry but I am with a client and can't get away."

"What do you mean cant, of course you can."

"We are in the middle of a brief on a massive deal, it's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible, you can get away, tell them your period has started or your mother has been taken ill or that your lover needs to fuck you."

"Guy please, I can't say any of those."

"You can Chrissy and will, for you want me to fuck you don't you?"

"Yes," I whimpered like a silly teenage girl.

"You want my lips on your cunt don't you?"

"Yes," I groaned feeling excited by his use of such crude and basic words.

"My hands on your tits, my tongue up your arse and my cock in your cunt don't you?"

"Yes Guy, yes I do."

"Then tell those fucking stupid businessmen that you are leaving. Be firm and they will go along with it."

Remarkably they did.

'Don't wear much' was running through my mind as I showered at home and started to dress.

I slid a lemon coloured, cheap thong up my legs and put another into my bag, just in case, I smiled. 'No bra' he'd specified, now that was awkward. I slid into a tight singlet that I sometimes wear at the gym. It's similar to the vests worn by athletes. Being thin, my nipples, over which I could clearly see I had lost control, beamed at me in the mirror like two beacons. Momentarily I wondered what he would think if I turned up like that and walked through the courtyards and quadrangles of Corpus Christi? Not daring to try it, I put on a yellow, silk blouse on which I left enough buttons undone to show the top of the vest and the swell of my boobs inside it. I toyed with what to wear down below and tried several garments until I settled on a white, fairly, but not overly, short, thin skirt with brass buttons up the front. Twirling in front of the mirror I felt I was following his brief.

It was just after one thirty when I set out and the ride through Docklands, past Beckton and onto the M11 was easy; it was too early for the rush hour and I knew that barring something unexpected I should be able to make Cambridge comfortably by three. I took my time keeping within the seventy speed limits as I buzzed north through the pleasant Essex, Hertfordshire then Cambridgeshire countryside.

Obviously my thoughts were on Guy and what was happening to me. I didn't understand it and was now starting to think I never would and did that matter? I was fascinated by him, the approach he took and his attitude towards sex; it was so different to everything I had ever believed in. I had never had any form of relationship based purely on sex, particularly sex of the sort he was introducing me to.

I also had no comprehension of the power he had over me. I couldn't believe what I had done this morning for I had never done anything like that before or that in the early afternoon I was now rushing to meet my lover; was that what he was, I smiled?