My Fondest Memory
Part 1 of 4
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Within the realm of erotica, there's an entire subgenre devoted to mind control. It is typically told from the perspective of someone who possesses a magic potion, an incantation, or a medical device that compels hapless victims to submit. Usually, the victims don't even realize they are being victimized.
How would one of these stories look from the perspective of someone who doesn't know her mind has been hijacked?
Meet Sheila Friendman, a happy, carefree young woman living a placid existence. Then along comes Ron Stevenson, who changes everything. This story is told by Sheila, who explains what happens when her consent is stolen so skillfully she doesn't even recognize that it's gone.
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When I was in college, my freshman composition professor assigned our class to write a memoir. He said it was important to be honest because good memoirs tell the truth. I'm going to do my best to be honest in this memoir, so I want to admit in advance that some of these recollections are incomplete. For reasons I can't explain, there are a lot of blank spots in my memory.
I've told my boyfriend Ron about these lapses. He said they aren't important, and that I shouldn't worry about them.
My professor explained that memoirs are supposed to describe memories. Important memories. I have a lot of nice memories and very few bad ones, but my fondest memory is from the day I met Ron. Everything changed when he entered my life. Before I met Ron, I never imagined it was possible to feel so happy, so satisfied, and so loved. It seems almost unnatural.
I'll begin by explaining that my name is Sheila Friedman, I work as a pharmaceutical sales rep, and I thought I was a happy woman before I met Ron. My parents are wonderful, caring people who did everything possible to give me a good childhood. They loved me and provided every advantage a kid could want or need. I had plenty of friends. My youth was remarkably free of trauma and pain.
I was blessed with a good brain, and I was particularly lucky in the looks department. I am tall, with long blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a photogenic face and body. I earned scholarship money by competing in beauty contests. Before I graduated high school I won the titles of Miss Maple Syrup Festival, Miss Pro Football Hall of Fame, Miss Pumpkin Days, and Miss Teen Athletics.
My career as a beauty queen got more serious in college, when I competed in bigger pageants. I won a lot of money and titles, including Miss Ohio USA. That victory sent me to the Miss USA pageant. I didn't win, but I placed first in the swimsuit competition, which helped me get jobs as a model.
This may not seem to have much to do with how I met my boyfriend, but you need to understand that my history as a beauty queen is how I got my job as a drug sales rep. I was recruited for the job because drug companies believe pretty girls have an advantage when it comes to convincing doctors to prescribe their products. They like to hire cheerleaders, too.
It sounds sexist - and it is - but I suspect it's true. I'm sure many male doctors are more willing to meet with me because I'm attractive. I believe it helps me convince them to use the drugs I promote.
Lots of doctors asked me out on dates, and I sometimes accepted. I was unattached after I split from my college boyfriend, and I looked for a replacement among the handsome young physicians I encountered. What girl doesn't want to date a doctor, right? After shopping around for a while, I decided that Dr. Sam Thompson was a good choice. He was tall, handsome, made a lot of money, and was good in bed.
Sam's a few years older - I'm 23, he's 34 - but I liked that because it meant he was more established in his career and he'd paid off his student loans. He'd reached the stage of his life where he wanted to have fun, and I wanted to help him do that.
But Sam isn't my boyfriend anymore. What I've written so far is what you need to know to understand the real story, which began when Ron Stevenson entered my life. Things changed fast after that. It felt very natural at the time, but as I look back I'm surprised by how quickly I dumped Sam and took up with Ron.
I met Ron at a reception held at the hospital where Sam worked. Sam thought it was good for his career to be seen with a beautiful girlfriend on his arm. I saw the reception as an opportunity to find people who might be interested in hearing a sales pitch for the drugs I sold. I had just finished handing out one of my business cards when a man I didn't know walked up to me.
"Aren't you Sam's girlfriend?" he asked. "Sam is a friend of mine. He asked me to show you something."
He introduced himself as Ron Stevenson, and he asked me to follow him to a nearby office where he had some equipment he thought I should see. I had some vague notion that he wanted to show me something relevant to my job.
"This is just a prototype," Ron said, handing me a viewer with two eyepieces like the ones you find on a medical microscope. "Take a look through this and tell me what you see."
I looked through the eyepieces. "I see bright, swirling colors," I said. For reasons I can't explain, I don't remember much more. I know I looked for a while, and I vaguely remember hearing Ron's voice, although I can't remember what he said.
I felt confused when I finally looked up. "What was that?" I asked. "What did I just see?"
"It's not important," Ron said. "Don't think about it. What's important is how you feel. What's going through your mind right now?"
My mind was confused, but as I tried to gather my thoughts, I realized that Ron was an extremely attractive man. I hadn't noticed anything unusual about him until that moment. I'd considered him to be about average in the looks department. Suddenly, I recognized he was the sexiest-looking man I'd ever met.
Looking at him made my heart beat faster. My knees were weak. I couldn't think clearly enough to answer his question.
"I know what you're feeling," Ron said. "You're thinking that you like me, and you're hoping I like you. Is that right?"
My throat was so dry it was hard to speak. I just nodded.
"Sheila, don't worry. I think you are the most attractive woman I've ever met. Sam tells me you're smart, and funny, and nice to have around. I hope we can spend some time together. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
I nodded again. At that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than for Ron to take me in his arms. "Let's go somewhere we can talk privately," Ron said. "I'll drive us to my place. We can talk there. Come with me."
Ron took my hand and I followed him to the hospital parking deck. I remember thinking it was odd that I was leaving Sam behind and going off with a man I'd just met, but the harder I tried to think about it, the easier it was to ignore. I kept getting distracted whenever I glanced at Ron and saw how sexy he looked.
Ron's car was nice. It must have cost a lot of money. But I didn't care much, because I couldn't stop thinking about how attractive he was. I vaguely remember that he made small talk during the short drive to his apartment, but I couldn't hold up my end of the conversation because I got so flustered every time I looked at his gorgeous face.
The thing I remember best is that after a few minutes, Ron put his hand on my knee. It aroused me so much that I swooned. His hand was warm, and it seemed that heat from his hand began to spread up my leg. Soon that warmth reached my pussy, which throbbed with arousal. I thought it was strange for me to have feelings like that for a man I just met, but I couldn't help it. I wanted Ron to hurry up and take me home.
I'm not sure how long it took to get to his house. My memory is that he opened my door, led me to his home, and smiled warmly when we went inside.
"Thanks for coming over, Sheila. It means a lot to me," he said, taking my coat. "I think I'd like some cold water. Would you like something to drink?"
"Water would be nice," I said. He led me to his sofa. I liked his home. It was large and comfortable, and decorated with beautiful works of art. I realized that Ron must earn a lot of money to afford such a nice house.
He returned with two bottles of water and two wine goblets. "I think water tastes better when you drink it from a fancy glass," he said as he filled our cups. Something about what he said and the way he said it sounded very suave and witty.
As I re-read the words I just typed, Ron's comment doesn't seem as sophisticated as it sounded at the time. Maybe you had to be there. It made me like him even more.
Ron leaned back and gave me a head-to-toe look. It felt like he was deciding if I was cute enough for him. I wanted to be cute enough. I never wanted anything more.
"Sheila, you are so beautiful it's breathtaking. I'm sure you've heard that before, but I want you to hear it from me. You should know that I hold you in very high regard. Nothing would please me more than if we could spend time together in the future. A lot of time together."
Hearing that he wanted me was an enormous relief. "Thank you," I said. "I like you, too."
We chatted for a few minutes, and I can't remember much of what we said because I was so distracted by his constant, focused gaze. It felt like I was being caressed by his eyes.
My pussy was throbbing again. I'd never felt anything like this before. It had been going on long enough that I realized I wanted Ron to take me to his bedroom, strip off my clothes, and have sex all night long.
I couldn't wait any longer. I had to tell him how I felt.
"Ron, you are being a perfect gentleman," I said. "I appreciate you treating me like a lady. But I don't feel much like a lady right now. I'm finished talking. I'd rather do something else if it's all right with you. I hope you feel the same way."
He flashed that suave, sophisticated smile. "I feel the same. I'm so glad this is about to happen." He stood up, reached for my hand, and led me to his bedroom. I thought about the fact that I was about to have sex with a man I'd just met, and it made me question my behavior.