The Angry Writer

This Story actually is part of a larger story line. That story line began in "The Millionaire Chronicles" and even though there are supernatural aspects to these stories, I decided to keep them in mind control and not fantasy. I am working on more stories that are consequences of the actions in The Millionaire Chronicles and I have some that are finished that I may be adding soon. I hope you enjoy the tale and please rate and leave comments.

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The Writer opened his twitter account and smiled. A conference was being held in Atlanta. Erotica writers from around the world were converging and three people he was following were going to attend. He started laughing. How could he resist this? His current job would have to go on the back burner. This was too good to pass up. He had a week to prepare. He could get to Atlanta in two days and scope out the hotel. Everything could be ready before the conference started.

He left a letter for Lillian and Annalise, they would take care of his house until he returned. He packed up the little he needed and got in his car. It was going to be a long ride, he would need a toy for the trip. He kept an eye out for a coffee shop with college students. A perfect place to hunt.

He turned a corner and saw a Starbucks, he pulled into the parking lot and found an empty spot. He pulled into the spot and got out of the car. He entered the coffee shop and saw a young brunette sitting at a table drinking a latte. The name on the cup was Angela. He sat at the table behind her. He pulled out his notebook, ink vial and quill and started writing. When he was done he folded it up and wrote her name on the folded paper and put it on the floor behind her chair. A few minutes later he got up from his table. As he passed her table he stopped and cleared his throat.

"Excuse me miss." He said smiling down at her.

"Yes." She said, rather coolly, and with a perturbed look on her face.

"I am sorry to disturb you, but as I was passing on my way out I noticed there was a piece of paper on the floor under your chair. I thought maybe you lost it." He said to her.

She looked under her chair and saw the folded page with her name on it. Curiosity peaked she opened it up and read it. She looked over at him and her eyes glazed over.

"Please join me, Master." She said. Wondering why she was calling this strange man master and inviting him to sit with her. She couldn't stop herself. Something on the page she read made her want to obey this man. She was scared but there was nothing she could do.

"Are you here alone Angela?" he asked her.

"Yes Master I am." She said.

"Are you from around here?" he inquired.

"I go to college here, but I am from Maine Master." She told him.

"Good, are you seeing anyone?" his inquiry continued.

"No, I am too busy with school, to start anything Master." She was worried where this was going now.

"What year are you?" he asked his final question.

"I am a freshman. Master." She was very fearful now.

"Excellent. Gather your things and follow me out. Get in your car, pack up only what you need for a trip and meet me at the second rest stop on I41 south. From there you will join me." He instructed her.

"Yes Master." She was frightened, but she couldn't resist.

"You will call the school and drop out. You will notify your friends you are heading back home. You will call your parents and tell them you are going to study abroad and be convincing. You will tell no one of what is happening with me." He told her.

"Yes Master, I understand and will obey." She was devastated. There was nothing she could do. She followed him out to the car after packing up her things.

He watched her get in her car and put in her blue tooth headset. She started making calls, he smiled, and life was so much easier since he got the quill. Now here he was driving down the highway with a hot coed following him, ready to do anything he wanted. He could make her completely willing, but part of him wanted her to realize what was happening. To understand she had no choice. Like when he was younger and had no choice in what happened to him. Though it wasn't a supernatural power that forced him, he was still powerless against it.

So here he was controlling his life finally. Sure he was an author. Now however he not only wrote fantasy for those folks out there, but he wrote reality for himself and for a certain select few. He didn't really do it for the money, he didn't need money. He did it to see what darkness others had. To gauge their desires next to his, and see who came up wanting. So far, he was the more imaginative. Some people were so base. No creativity at all. That is what drew him to the three he was going to see in Atlanta.

All three authors were very creative, he loved their work. It intrigued him. He made it to the rest stop in twenty minutes. Angela was thirty minutes behind him. This early in the day there were no other cars around but the one worker. He walked into the rest stop office area and had his inked quill out and a piece of paper. The worker looked up and had a name tag on "Peter".

"Hello, Peter" he read off of the name the tag. He leaned on the counter of the info area and wrote a note to Peter. When he was done he handed it to Peter.

"What is this?" Peter asked.

"Just a little poem, you might like." He replied.

"Hmm," he looked at the page and read the lines. His eyes going glassy.

"This is getting too easy." The Writer said. He started to worry. He was using the quill too much. He had been warned. He shook off the dread. He would stop for a few days, only a few more times. He could stop at any time.

"Remove the recordings from today. Turn off the cameras for the next two hours and forget you saw me." He told Peter.

When Peter got up to go in the office he went out to the car and noticed that Angela had arrived and joined him in his car. Her stuff was in his backseat. He started the car and pulled out of the parking space.

"This will be a fun trip...for me." He told her. "You will be quiet and do exactly as you are told. You will nod yes and shake your head no, do you understand me?"

She nodded her head yes.

"Good, I want you to go through your clothes and change into a skirt and blouse, no bra or panties, and no stocking, hose or socks and shoes." He instructed her.

He waited a few moments. She nodded but didn't seem to understand that he meant immediately. He chuckled to himself and looked over at her as she stared out the passenger window.

"NOW!" he yelled.

She jumped in her seat and crawled over the back seat. Going through her items. She found a tight white blouse and short black mini-skirt. She wished she had found one of her other outfits first, but this one was the one she found so she started to get undressed.

"No, up here. With me." He said.

She moved to the front seat and pulled off her shirt, revealing large breasts that were very firm, covered in a very conservative bra.

"How old are you Angela?" he asked.

"19, I will be 20 in three months, Master." She said.

"Excellent." He replied. He reached over and pinched a nipple as she removed her bra. He kept pinching until a tear rolled down her cheek. Then he started twisting it.

"Don't stop getting undressed. The pants go next." He commanded.

She opened the pants while he abused her breast, and pushed them down her legs. He pulled her nipple as she bent forward, the pain made her wince and more tears fell, but the strange part was it also made her wet between her legs. Soon she was sitting naked in the passenger seat of his car.

He let go of her breast as he drove and put his hand between her legs. Taking her clit between his thumb and forefinger, he started rolling it gently, and her moans filled the car. She squirmed in her seat, unable to continue dressing.

"Blouse."

That one word was followed by the squeezing of her clit. The pain brought her around and she started putting on the blouse. He rolled her clit gently again and she tried to concentrate on getting the blouse on and buttoned as he amped up her arousal. Once it was in place she tried to concentrate on getting her skirt. She was getting close to orgasm, her body was betraying her and she couldn't stop it.

He slipped a finger inside her cunt and her dam broke, fluids gushed all over the seat and she arched her back screaming out in pleasure. Her mind started to break as she fought to reconcile the pleasure she was receiving with the lack of control she had over her situation and herself.

"Skirt."

His fingers, one inside her cunt, one on her clit, squeezing together hard, focusing her attention. She bent down, finding it difficult to get the skirt on with his distraction, but somehow she managed it.

"Good girl. You are learning." He said in a pleased tone and she preened. She caught herself and shuddered.

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He pulled the car up to the front of the Ritz Carlton in Atlanta. He got out and opened the door for Angela. He escorted her to the check-in. He noticed the picture of the Hotel Manager near the front desk and pulled out his quill. He opened a piece of paper and wrote the manager's name at the top of the paper.

He looked at the young lady at check-in, who up to this moment had still not acknowledged his presence, and read her nametag "Becky".

"Hello Becky. I would like to speak with Mr. Williamson, your Manager." He said with a smile on his, but not in his voice. Becky recognized that tone and picked up the phone, ringing the manager.

"Mr. Williamson, someone here would like to speak with you." Becky said into the phone.

"He will be right with you sir." She said.

"Thank you dear." He said and turned back to Angela who was drawing stares from guests coming and going.

She was wearing the white blouse and black mini still, but with black 4" spike heels and nothing underneath. The men were practically drooling, and some of the women were checking her out discretely. He was enjoying showing off his toy. The manager came out and stopped momentarily when he saw the two of them. The Writer stepped up to him and smiled.

"Greetings Mr. Williamson, I am here for the Writers Conference. Here is my invitation." He said as he handed him the paper he had been writing on.

Mr. Williamson took the paper from him and started reading it. He looked up after reading it and smiled at the Writer.

"Mr. Davison! A pleasure to finally meet you." Your suite has been prepared. Follow me." Mr. Williamson led him to a private elevator. Becky looked on in shock.

"If you don't mind Mr. Williamson, I would like to have a word with Becky a little later on. She was a tad on the rude side when we arrived." He told the manager. Just loud enough that Becky heard as they made their way to the elevator.

Becky paled and went weak at the knees. There was one thing Mr. Williamson prided himself on, and that was the impeccable reputation of the Hotel. She was definitely in trouble.

"Very well Mr. Davison. I will see to it she comes up to the suite to apologize to you personally within the hour." He informed his guest. "And your stay shall be complimentary. On Becky, of course."

Becky felt faint, they were using the elevator that serviced the Presidential Suite.

The Writer nodded. The bellboy had gathered their luggage from the car and met them at the door to their suite. Mr. Williamson gave them their key and informed them that some of the other authors had arrived and an informal dinner was being held in the ballroom at 6:30 pm that night. They had 4 hours before dinner, and Becky would arrive in twenty minutes to apologize.

"Do not expect her back quickly." The Writer told Mr. Williamson. The Manager nodded and smiled and left them to their room.

The Writer had Angela move to the bed and opened his large trunk and pulled out his special toys. Grabbing bindings he brought them to the bed. He had Angela stretch out on the bed spread eagle. He bound one hand with a cuff and the cable attached to it went to the leg at the head of the bed. He did the same with the other hand and each leg. He then took a pair of material sheers and cut her clothes off of her.

Her eyes went wide, she was still under the command not to speak unless spoken to, and she was scared of what came next. He pulled out a leather mask with a small dildo on the inside that fit in her mouth. He fit the hood over her head and inserted the dildo in her mouth. It passed her tongue and nestled at the back of her throat. It had a hole that passed through it, granting her just enough air not to choke, but it was still uncomfortable.

There were no eye holes, but there were holes for her nostrils. Her ears were covered and padded, and sounds were completely muffled. She felt him put his hand on the mouth of the hood and found she had to breathe through her nose. She started to panic, though soon he removed his hand and she could breathe again.

She felt him moving around on the bed. Soon she felt him sucking on her breast, her nipple was getting hard. Then she felt a sharp pain on her elongated nipple as something was clipped to it. The pain shot through her like lightning and she arched her back, her scream was stifled by the fake cock in her mouth. Then he did the same to her other nipple, her mind screamed for it to stop, though her body betrayed her. Her womanly juices were flowing freely, lubing her up for a good fucking.

She couldn't understand how she could be turned on by the abuse, but part of her really wanted to be fucked right now, the other part wanted the pain to stop. He added another clip to her free nipple and her body arched again. Her tears soaked into the hood over her eyes and she moaned for more.

There was more movement on the bed and for a moment all was quiet and still. She was getting used to the pain. She felt hot breath between her legs, a tongue between her pussy lips, what the fuck was he doing now?! He took her clit in his mouth and started sucking on it like a little cock, pulling it from its hiding place, and stretching it out. Please no! She thought, not there! But alas, it was to be, he put another clamp on her clit and the pain was so much that she wet herself. The there was a pulling sensation like he was connecting whatever was clamped to her nipples and clit all together.

So if one moved all of them were pulled at. Suddenly something was shoved into her sopping wet pussy, it was thick and long and had been shoved in deep, there was pulling at her clit and as she felt the thing try to slide out of her pussy the clamp on her clit was pulled tight, which in turn pulled on her nipples, the pain was arousing and disturbing. Her poor mind was breaking at the confusing instructions her body was giving it.

The Writer looked down on his toy, she was bringing him lots of joy. Soon Becky would arrive and he would teach her a lesson she would not soon forget. There was a knock at the door, light, scared, feminine. He walked over to it. A smile lit his face. His toy was masked, he didn't need to use his quill, and those hunting him were far away (probably).

He opened the door and smiled at Becky as she stood there. His voice dripped with charisma and the promise of sexual satisfaction. "Welcome Becky, come in." he said as he stepped aside.

Her head hung low. She had been chastised by her manager already and had been told her job was in this man's hands. He looked her over, this was a class establishment, she was dressed business like, her uniform fit her well and was conservative, but her beauty was not hampered in any way.

He took her hand and led her to the living room area, he did not direct her attention to the open bedroom doors, but she sensed something wrong and looked that way anyway. She saw someone tied to the bed, and hoped, no assumed it was his companion. What was he going to do to her?

"Becky, how old are you?" he asked her.

"I am 27." She replied.

"And how long have you worked in the hospitality industry?" he inquired.

"Seven years sir." She said, wondering where this was going.

"Do you like it?" he voice getting harder.

"Yes, yes I do." Her voice shaking at his tone, and manner of questioning.

Something was changing in his demeanor. She could not put her finger on it. There was something about his eyes.

"So what would possess you to be rude to potential guests entering your hotel?" he said in a harsh whisper.

A chill went down her spine. "I saw your companion, and thought you were some kind of sleazebag." Her hand flew to her mouth in shock.

Why did she tell him that! He laughed out loud. She was so precious, her mind was so weak, and he was going to break and rebuild her.

"My dear, I am going to give you a treat, something only two other people in the whole world have seen." He smiled at her, his eyes holding hers and his features changed.

His eyes became red like burning coals, his hair lengthened and grew blacker like thick strands of petroleum. The teeth in his smile sharpened, and two small horns started to grow from his forehead. She shrank back from him, unable to scream or say a word. Wings sprouted from his back, leathery and spiked, black in color tinge with red like his skin. He turned down his power a bit, toying with her.

"What are you?" she asked.

"One of the Fallen." He said. "Only I escaped, I like your world. It's a fun place." He informed her chuckling. His form changed back to that of the man who opened the door for her.

"However, too many are looking for me, so I don't normally use my powers. I use this..." he said twirling the quill around in his fingers. "For you though, I am willing to make an exception, then I will move on to my main reason for being here."

He walked towards her, she froze in place, like a doe stuck in the headlights. He reached his hand out to her, the back of his hand stroked the side of her face. His skin was hot against hers, yet she felt frozen to her core. He reached into her mind with his, rummaging through her fears and desires like a stray dog through the garbage. Not caring if he did any damage to her. She had never been with a woman, she wanted to, but her Christian upbringing made it a dirty thing.

Her last boyfriend wanted her to suck his cock, but she thought it was a filthy and disgusting request, then he tried to have anal sex with her and that was she broke it off with him. She was definitely a vanilla girl. Tonight her world was going to change.

He grabbed the back of her neck with his left hand and reached up to her blouse with his right. She found that her ability to move was back. She reached up and grabbed his arm, he was so strong. She tried to stop him, but his hand grabbed the front of her blouse and his fingers slipped around her bra. He pulled at her clothes, and to her it didn't feel as if he was trying very hard, but he tore her bra and top from her body, she knew the bra left marks on her back from the strain of the material against her skin.

Her medium sized breasts flopped free, he dropped her torn clothes on the floor, and gripped a nipple, pulling it hard and stretching it out from her body. Using her neck as one end and the nipple like it was the other end of a human rubber band. All the time he held her eyes in his and smiled. Her mouth opened in a wide O, her hands gripping his strong arm. He slowly lifted her off the ground by her neck and nipple. She whimpered and tears rolled down her face.

"You will learn to be polite when I done with you. You will learn your place. Manners are everything." He said, lowering her back to the floor.

He reached down and slipped his hand into her slacks and underwear. He casually pulled and ripped them open and down off of her body. Looking at her, she was not one of those modern girls, he had a hairy bush. He shook his head.