DISCLAIMER

The following story contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity
and is intended for the entertainment of adults only.  If depictions
of sexual acts offend you, please stop reading now.  If you are under
the legal age to read this sort of stuff in your area, go do something
worthwhile and stop polluting your mind with this crap.  Finally, some
of the things depicted in this story are dangerous or unethical;
please don't try this at home.

For whatever it's worth, this work is copyright (C) 1997 by The
Sinner.  You're welcome to download it for your own enjoyment.  You're
welcome to repost it to any newsgroup or on any website as long as you
include the entire work without any alteration (including the author's
byline and these fun little paragraphs at the beginning).  If you do
repost it, I'd appreciate it if you let me know about it; I like to
know where my stories get to.  

I welcome any and all comments from readers.

- The Sinner
thesinner@mailandnews.com
https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/sinner/www/

-------------


Candace's Education
===================



One
===

	Rick Logan seethed as he fidgeted on the couch.  He was fed up
with waiting.  Every time he went out with Candace, she would pull
this little game with him.  She would greet him at the door with a
bright smile, and usher him into her living room.  Then she would take
on an apologetic expression and explain that she hadn't had time to
get ready yet, and ask if he would mind waiting a few minutes.
	Rick always assented.  At first, he'd done this because he was
a very patient person, and it didn't matter to him if they were a few
minutes late.  But after being kept waiting for half an hour for each
of their first five dates, he'd begun to get irritated.
	So on the sixth date, he'd deliberately shown up fifteen
minutes late, in order to give her some extra time to prepare.  He'd
figured it was the easiest possible solution to the problem.  There
was no point in haranguing Candace about her tardiness when he could
just as easily adjust his own schedule.
	Unfortunately, the plan had backfired.  When he'd arrived late
at her apartment, she'd met him at the door with an angry glare.
She'd chastised him for being late, complaining that she'd been ready
right on time, that he was a jerk for being late, and that she'd
appreciate it if he would try to be a bit more timely in the future.
	He should've argued with her, and had it out right then and
there.  He should've pointed out that _she_ was the one who'd kept him
waiting for the first five dates, and that he'd only been trying to
solve the problem in a manner that would involve the least
inconvenience for both of them.
	But he hadn't.  He'd been afraid that starting an argument
might damage or destroy their budding relationship.  He remembered
seeing a calculating glint in her eye, as though she'd been testing
him, to see whether he'd rebel or not.  And he hadn't.  He'd meekly
agreed that it was his fault, and that he'd try to be on time more
often.
	And that, Rick reflected, was his problem.  He was never good
at confrontations.  In any dispute, he would always take the easy way
out.  That was probably why he'd been stuck in the same dead-end job
for six years, working in the mailroom of a large medical-supply
company.  No promotion, no pay raise.  Nothing.  And that pretty much
summed up his life.

	Candace Cunningham turned her head and looked at the clock
next to the bed, her soft brown hair twisting across the pillow as she
did so.  Twenty-five minutes.  She decided that she'd kept Rick
waiting long enough.  With a grunt of exertion, she lifted herself off
the bed.
	She looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her hair.
She kept it simple, brushing it straight down her back.  It was
important to keep it neat and simple, so that Rick didn't get an
inflated notion of how important he was to her.  Men were nice enough
as diversions, but they were hardly one of the necessities of life.
	Candace pondered her relationship with Rick as she looked
through her wardrobe for something to wear.  It was so much trouble to
find clothes for a woman that weren't degrading.  After all, the vast
majority of clothes were designed by men who could only view a woman
as a sex object.  Shoes that sacrificed stability and comfort for the
sake of putting a curve in the back of the leg, skirts that were
designed to bring about thoughts of sex in men, blouses that
practically put breasts on display... it was disgraceful.
	She settled on a pair of brown slacks, a flowery button-down
shirt and a pair of brown loafers.  Stylish, yet comfortable.  She was
ready for the evening.  She didn't own any makeup or jewelry; these,
too, were male inventions designed with the debasement of woman in
mind.

	Rick stood as Candace entered the living room, sighing in
wonder as he did every time he saw her face.  She was quite beautiful.
Wide brown eyes gazed out under thick eyebrows.  High cheekbones
framed an aqualine nose, and a wide mouth smiled beneath it.  A thick
mane of chestnut brown hair fell down her back, framing her face.
	Though the slacks and shirt hid it, Rick knew her body to be
quite attractive.  Years of vegetarian eating had given her a thin,
though not quite willowy figure.  Her breasts were small but quite
pert, and her legs and ass thin, but shapely.
	For the hundredth time, Rick looked at her, thinking that if
only she would put some effort into it, she could be dynamite.  All
she'd need was the right clothes, a little makeup, and some jewelry
and she could be sexy as all hell.  But he knew what she thought on
these subjects, and didn't want to get an earful, so he let it lie.
	"You look fabulous."
	"Thanks," she replied.  "Let's go."
	Rick treated her to a nice dinner at a charming Italian
restaurant.  They talked about the usual things; the weather,
politics, movies, her job.  Candace was an editor for Woman's Work, a
prominent and rather militant feminist magazine.  Rick had read a few
issues of the magazine at her urging, and was rather disturbed by its
contents.  Rick fully supported most of the ideals of the women's
movement, but he thought Woman's Work was far too radical.  He hadn't
said as much to Candace, though.  Not yet.
	Although the content of their conversation was not unusual,
Rick detected a certain weariness in Candace's manner.  But their
dinner ended without incident, and Rick drove her home as usual.

	It was with a sense of relief that Candace closed the door
behind her after Rick dropped her off.  Thank god that was over!
	When she'd first started going out with Rick, they'd had a
good time.  She'd been amused by his quick mind and ready wit.  And he
was pretty handsome, too.  Candace had had high hopes at the beginning
that Rick would turn out to be different from other men.  But as the
weeks and months wore on, it'd become obvious that that wasn't the
case.
	He'd begun to pay increasing amounts of attention to her body.
She'd caught a number of sidelong glances at her breasts and ass.  It
was so frustrating!  Try to have a decent, equal-status relationship
with a man, and you always wound up being viewed as a sex object.
	She had to admit to herself, though, that she enjoyed the
attention.  It was fun to play with mens' minds, get them aroused and
watch them boil in frustration.  Served them right, for all they'd
done to keep her gender in the dirt.
	And it had been fun to do it to Rick, once she'd discovered
that he was just an ordinary mind-in-the-pants sleazeball like all the
rest.  She'd occasionally arrange things so that her breast would
press against his arm, or her hand would innocently brush his crotch.
Sometimes she could see him getting hard through his pants.  She
enjoyed the control she had over him.
	But ultimately, it was getting stale, and even dangerous.
Rick was starting to get bolder.  Several times he'd tried to kiss
her, and she'd had to make up some clever ruse on the spot to avoid
it.  She knew what men were capable of - rape, or worse - and she
didn't want to risk provoking the rapist in Rick.
	So it was time to get someone new.  Tomorrow, she decided,
she'd dump him.  They already had dinner plans, and she could break it
to him gently.  Tomorrow.

	Rick went to work the next day feeling more depressed than
ever about his relationship with Candace.
	"Yo, Rick!"  Rick looked up in the direction the voice had
come from just in time to see a small package sailing toward him
through the air.  He caught it deftly.  "That needs to go up to
Briggs, pronto!"  The voice belonged to Harvey Sheldon, the mail room
chief.  "It's several hours late, and he's been calling me every
fifteen minutes since six this morning."
	"On my way," Rick responded without enthusiasm, heading for
the elevator.  Damon Briggs, vice-president for marketing, was the
primary reason Rick had been stuck in this dead-end job for so long.
Three times Rick had applied for open positions in marketing, and
three times Briggs had turned him down, despite the fact that he had
clearly been the best-qualified candidate all three times.
	Rick punched the elevator button for the marketing floor,
visualizing Briggs's slack-jowled, bulldog face.  "The problem with
you, Rick," said Briggs's voice, echoing in his head, "is that you
just don't have the drive.  Sure, you look good on paper, but you just
don't have that special something it takes to make it in the corporate
world.  Probably never in your life are you gonna grab the bull by the
balls, Rick.  I really don't think you belong here."  And of course,
he'd just sat there and taken it, as he'd taken so many other things
in his life.  A stronger person, Rick thought, would have stood up to
Briggs, demanded a chance to prove himself.  But he'd just sat there
and listened to Briggs drive him into the ground.
	The elevator pinged as it reached the 25th floor, where the
marketing department was located.  Rick stepped out and strode through
the glass doors into the marketing lobby.
	"Morning, Rick," said Jennifer Cipriani, Briggs's secretary.
Jennifer was a pudgy Mediterranean woman who looked to be about
thirty.  Her face was rather pretty, with strong classical features,
but the fact that she was about thirty pounds overweight kept her from
being attractive, in Rick's view.  Unfortunately, he'd had to brush
off a number of passes she'd made at him.  In spite of this, though,
they'd become friends, and shared between them a certain wry humor
regarding Briggs.
	The standard half-eaten bar of chocolate lay in its wrapper on
her desk.  Jennifer nibbled absentmindedly at it as she scribbled
Briggs's signature on a sheaf of papers.  "What can I do for you?" she
asked, looking up and smiling at Rick.
	"Morning, Jen.  Package for Mr. Briggs."
	"Oooh, he's been waiting for that all morning.  Better take it
in.  He's alone right now."  Jennifer spoke into the intercom.
"Rick's here with that package, Mr. Briggs."
	"Thanks, Jen," Rick said, walking past her desk to the big oak
doors.  A large gold-finished plate announced the entrance to "The
Office of Damon Briggs, Vice-President of Marketing."  Rick pushed the
doors open and strode in.
	The corpusculent form of Damon Briggs greeted him from behind
the desk.  "Rick!  Good to see you again!" he exclaimed without much
sincerity.  "Let's have it."  A pudgy hand reached for the package.
Rick passed it over to him.  "Thanks, Rick," Briggs said, eagerly
tearing the package open.
	Rick turned and left, waving goodbye to Jennifer as he headed
to the elevator.  He'd almost made it when Briggs's yell of anguish
hit him from behind.
	"No!  Dammit, dammit, dammit!"
	Rick turned just in time to see Briggs storm out of the office,
the opened package in one hand.  "The stupid bastards screwed up
again!  Jennifer, get on the phone to Dexalco and tell them we wanted
tetracamine, not tetracaTHALamine.  Make sure whichever moron you
speak to understands the difference between four syllables and five.
Christ."
	Briggs's jaw worked furiously as he strode over to Rick and
thrust the package into his hands.  "Take this down to pharmaceutical
disposal, Rick, and get rid of it."
	Rick accepted the package and watched as Briggs strode angrily
back to his office.  Jennifer, already dialing the phone, looked
ruefully at him.  "It's a great day already, Rick!" she said.
	"Good luck with Briggs," Rick replied, and headed for the
elevator.  Curiously, he examined the contents of the package.  There
were six small vials of liquid and several sheets of paper.  Rick
glanced over the top sheet as he waited for the elevator.  Beneath the
letterhead of Dexalco Pharmaceuticals was a short description of the
drug.

		TETRACATHALAMINE: Strong hypnotic drug.
	Dosage of 5 drops standard solution will put a
	125-pound subject into a deeply suggestible mental
	state in approximately thirty minutes.  Standard
	hypnotic techniques may then be used.  Required dosage
	varies with weight.  No known...

	Rick was interrupted by the chime of the arriving elevator.
He stuffed the paper back into the box as a gray-haired executive
walked past him out of the elevator.  He could get into big trouble
for reading mail.
	Rick stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the
third floor, where the company's pharmaceutical disposal unit was
located.  Federal law required the disposal of unused narcotics
according to a complex set of safety guidelines.
	The elevator doors closed and the car descended.  Rick
pondered what he'd read, an idea slowly creeping into his mind.  Could
he... make use of the drug?  He could drug Candace, hypnotize her to
be more friendly toward him, to...
	No, he couldn't do that.  The thought of forcing a woman to
have sex with him was revolting.  Even a hypnotized sexual partner was
still, in reality, an unwilling one.
	Besides, he had to take the drug to the disposal unit.  These
things were tracked carefully, and if the package wasn't handed over
to the disposal technicians, it would eventually be traced to him, and
he'd be in trouble.  The package had to go to disposal.  And that was
that.  But what if...
	Rick looked in the box again.  Six vials of liquid.  What if
there were only five when it got to the disposal techs?  Would they
notice?  Maybe.  He wasn't sure how thoroughly they checked these
things.  But if they did notice, how likely would they be to track it
down?  Probably not very likely, he guessed.  After all, they dealt
with several thousand bottles and packages every day.  What would one
missing vial count for among all that?
	But could he possibly bring himself to do this sort of thing?
It was immoral to hypnotize people for your own gain.  Wasn't it?
Unbidden, Briggs's face appeared in Rick's mind.  "You're probably
never gonna grab the bull by the balls, Rick."
	Rick snatched one of the vials out of the package and thrust
it into his pocket just as the elevator doors opened.  Nonchalantly,
he strode to the disposal desk, placing the package on the counter.
"Package from Briggs," he informed the technician behind the desk,
fighting to keep the tremor from his voice.
	The tech took it and made a cursory examination of the
contents.  "Thanks.  Here's your receipt."
	Rick took the receipt and hurried to the elevator before his
nervousness could show.  Flush with success, he reached into his
pocket and fingered the vial.
	
	When he got back to the mailroom, Rick found himself in the
middle of a crisis.  Three regular mailbags from the Los Angeles
office had run into unexpected delays and had all arrived while Rick
was running the errand for Briggs.  It took the rest of the day for
the mailroom staff to get all the backed-up mail delivered.
Consequently, Rick forgot about the vial.
	He arrived at Candace's apartment promptly at 7:00 that
evening, right on time for their dinner date.  Half an hour later,
they left and went to a vegetarian restaurant that Candace liked.
Rick hated vegetarian food, but it was all she would eat.  This meant
that most of the time, he had to eat it as well.  Occasionally, they
would go to a normal restaurant, where she would get a salad or
something non-meaty.  At those places, he occasionally got a meat
dish, but she made her disapproval evident whenever he did this.
	During their dinner conversation, Rick detected the same
weariness in Candace's manner he'd seen last night.  But it was
stronger tonight.  She seemed to be a bit nervous about something.
After finishing the meal, they ordered after-dinner drinks.  Candace
excused herself to go to the restroom.
	Rick took the opportunity to ponder the situation.  What had
her so worked up?  It was as though she had something really big she
needed to get off her chest.  Something...
	Of course!  She was going to dump him!  She was trying to find
the right moment to tell him.  He felt a surge of anger wash over him.
Dammit, they'd been dating for months, he'd paid for every meal, and
he hadn't gotten so much as a kiss from her.  Why had she strung him
along for so long?  He leaned back, thrusting his hands into his
pockets...
	...and his fingers brushed against the glass vial.  He
started, remembering it for the first time since getting out of the
elevator.  Slowly, carefully, he pulled it out of his pocket and held
it up to the light.  Inside, the clear liquid sloshed around.
	Rick gazed at the vial.  It wasn't right to do this to
someone, but... dammit, she'd been such a bitch.  He could see it now.
She'd strung him along, using him as a source of free food while
keeping him at arms' length emotionally and physically, teasing him
all the while to keep up his interest.  She had manipulated him,
coldly and cynically, and it was only fair to give her a little taste
in return.
	Resolved, Rick unscrewed the top of the bottle, pulling out
the built-in dropper.  He filled the dropper and struggled to recall
the writing on the sheet.  Five drops.  Yes, that was it.  Placing the
dropper over Candace's drink, he squeezed and watched the drops fall.
One... two... three... four... five.  Hurriedly, he screwed the cap
back onto the top of the bottle and shoved it back into his pocket.
	Candace reappeared a moment later and took her seat.  They
talked and drank as they sipped their drinks.  Rick watched Candace
for any sign that the drug was affecting her behavior, and found none.
But the sheet had said thirty minutes, hadn't it?  He thought so, but
it was hard to remember.
	They finished their drinks and began the drive home,
continuing the incessant conversation.  It was as though they were
both talking more excitedly and animatedly, and with more feigned
interest, because they both knew that something bad was coming up,
Rick mused.
	He took no notice when her participation began to drop off.
She stopped offering her own ideas and opinions, and started simply
agreeing to whatever he said.  Gradually, her responses became
monosyllabic.  Suddenly, he realized what had happened.
	"Candace?" he ventured.
	"Mmm.  Yes?"  she responded, staring ahead out the front of
the car.
	"How are you feeling?"
	She thought for a moment.  "Fine, I guess."  Her face remained
forward.
	Take it slowly, Rick told himself.  Make sure it's working.
"Look out the window to your right," he said.
	"Okay."  Her head swiveled ninety degrees to the right, and
remained facing that way.  She made no other move.
	Rick couldn't believe it.  Here was the most independent-
minded woman he'd ever met, accepting his odd suggestions as though
they were perfectly natural.  He racked his brain to recall what he
could of hypnosis.  The important thing seemed to be that the subject
wouldn't respond to all suggestions, just those that seemed
reasonable.  So having her, say, engage in sex with him right here in
the car was probably out of the question.  Take it slowly, he
admonished himself again.  "Candace?"
	"Yes?"  Her voice was muffled; Rick realized she was still
looking out the window.
	"Face forward again."  She did so immediately.  "I want you to
answer the questions I ask honestly and completely."
	"Okay," she agreed.
	"What do you think of me?"
	"I thought you were a nice guy when we first met, but lately
I've come to realize that you're just like all the other men."
	Hmmm.  This was interesting.  "And what are other men like?"
	"They're only interested in sex.  They can only view women as
sex objects.  They'd probably rape any woman they could if they
thought they could get away with it."
	This was really unusual, Rick thought.  He'd known she was
very much into women's liberation, even to the point of being somewhat
bitter toward men in general, but he'd had no idea she harbored such a
misandronistic streak.  "So... you think I would rape you if I thought
I could get away with it?"
	"Well, not necessarily.  But after we'd been together long
enough, I'm sure you'd do it eventually.  That's why I'm planning to
break up with you when you drop me off."
	So his instincts had been on the right track, Rick thought.
"What made you realize that I'm like that?"
	"The way you keep looking at my body.  You look at my breasts,
or my butt, or my legs.  I can tell you're thinking about having sex
with me.  It's quite demeaning."
	"Have you ever had sex with a man?"
	"No.  I could never let a man have that sort of power over
me.  Besides, I can bring myself more pleasure masturbating than any
man could ever give me."
	"Really?"
	"Yes.  Men only care about themselves."
	A thought crossed Rick's mind.  "Have you ever had sex with
another woman?"
	"No."
	Rick paused for a moment, considering what to do.  The first
priority was to preserve the relationship.  If he stopped seeing
Candace, no amount of drug could get what he wanted.  But, he reminded
himself again, it was important to be careful in this, and take things
in slow, natural steps.
	How best to do this? he wondered.  He didn't have the foggiest
clue as to what was the best way to make a suggestion, so he decided
to just try the easy way.  "Candace?"
	"Yes?"
	"You don't really think I'm as bad as other men," Rick said in
what he hoped was a calm voice.  "Sure, I'm still a man, and that
carries some intrinsic meaning, but I'm actually very civilized
compared to most.  Isn't that right?"
	Her face scrunched up in thought.  "Yes, I suppose so.  You're
not nearly as bad as I thought."
	"In fact, maybe you don't need to break off our relationship
just yet.  You could probably date me safely for at least another
month.  Don't you think so?"
	"Yes... yes, that's right.  I don't need to dump you just
yet."  She sat back, pleased at her realization.
	Rick smiled a bit at her choice of words.  It was funny that
she should talk about dumping him when he was clearly the one in
control.  He decided to take one more small step tonight.  "And when I
look at you, like I want to have sex with you, you won't find it
disgusting anymore.  In fact, when you see me looking at your body,
you'll get a little excited by it.  Almost like you were masturbating.
Not really strong, but noticeable... and pleasurable.  Okay?"
	She shrugged.  "Okay."
	Rick decided to hold it there for the evening.  He didn't want
to press his luck.  But he had to clean up after himself.  What was
the mumbo-jumbo that hypnotists did when they were done?  "Candace,
I'm going to start slowly counting down from five.  You're going to
feel your mind get fuzzier and more confused as I do so.  When I reach
one, you will have forgotten everything that's happened since I asked
you how you were feeling a few minutes ago.  Remember that?"
	"Uh-huh."
	"Good.  All you'll be able to remember will be that we had a
nice conversation on the way home.  All right?"
	"Okay."
	"Here we go.  Five... four... three... two... one."  Candace
made no movement, simply staring ahead.  Carefully, Rick tried to
restart the conversation.  "So... have you tried that new Chinese
takeout place?"
	"No."
	Well, Rick thought, even if he'd successfully caused her to
block out the conversation, she'd still be under the influence of the
drug.  He continued to talk as though they were having a perfectly
ordinary conversation.  Gradually, her speech moved from monosyllabic
responses to simple statements of agreement.  Soon she was back into
the swing of things, offering up her own opinions and ideas in
response to Rick's.  He relaxed, confident that she'd forgotten their
earlier conversation.
	Rick dropped her off at her apartment.  She never invited him
in, so there was no point in parking.  "Thanks for dinner, Rick," she
said sweetly.
	"You're welcome," he responded, glancing at her chest.  She
flushed a little at that, and opened her mouth as though about to say
something.  But whatever words had been about to come out froze in her
mouth, and a puzzled look crossed her face.  Rick did his best to look
confused.  "Candace?"
	"Ummm... oh, nothing.  Nothing," she said hurriedly.  "How
about dinner tomorrow?"
	"Sounds good.  Seven o'clock?"
	"Sure.  See you then."  She got out of the car, closed the
door, and hurried up to the building.  Rick smiled, pleased with a job
well done, as he drove off into the night.

	Candace paused at the door to her building.  Why had she done
that?  She'd planned the whole evening to dump Rick when he dropped
her off.  Why hadn't she done it?  And why the hell had she been
so... excited... by that glance he'd given her breasts?
	Confused, she unlocked the door and hurried up the stairs to
her apartment.  Dammit, it had just been another one of those lustful
sex-crazed male looks at her body.  Those had never had any effect on
her before, other than inspiring disgust at men in general.  Why had
that glance from Rick seemed so... different?
	She entered the apartment and sat down on the couch to think.
Rick seemed... different, somehow.  Less of a creep.  Kinder.  In
fact, why had she been planning to dump him in the first place?  She
thought back to the reasoning she'd used earlier, when she'd made the
decision to dump him.  None of it seemed to make sense anymore.  Well,
at any rate, Rick would probably be worth having around for at
least... oh, at least another month.

	Over the course of the next week and a half, Rick took Candace
out to dinner five times, and often to a movie afterward.  For the
most part, her manner on these dates was unchanged.  But several times
Rick let her catch him looking at her breasts, ass or legs.  Rick
noted with pleasure the flush of excitement that rushed into her face.
She would nervously look away whenever this happened.  He was enjoying
their time together quite a bit more, knowing that his glances got her
excited.
	When he was at work, however, he was a nervous wreck.  He
toiled at his job in dread, constantly worried that some
inventory-checker somewhere would discover the missing vial of drug
and trace it to him.  Every time the P.A. system came on, Rick's heart
leapt into his throat.  The only positive effect of the whole ordeal
was that his nerves drove him to work very hard at his job, earning
quite a bit of admiration from his supervisor.
	On his fifth date with Candace since he'd hypnotized her, Rick
got his second chance.  Again, it was just after the empty dinner
plates had been cleared away and the after-dinner drinks served.
Candace took a few sips of her drink and excused herself to go to the
bathroom.  Rick shot a look at her breasts as she got up, causing her
once again to get flustered and hurry away.
	Smiling, Rick waited until she was out of sight and pulled the
bottle out of his pocket.  Measuring carefully, he dispensed five
drops into her drink, swirling the glass slightly in order to mix the
drug thoroughly.
	Candace returned in a few minutes.  They finished their drinks
and began the drive home.  As before, Candace gradually allowed her
end of the conversation to drop off into simple yes's and no's.  When
Rick was confident that the drug had taken effect, he decided it was
time to begin.
	"How are you feeling, Candace?"
	"Fine."
	"How are your toes feeling?"
	A brief shrug.  "Fine."
	All right, then.  "So how do you feel around me?"
	She sighed.  "Excited.  It really affects me when you look at
my breasts or my legs like you want to have sex with me.  I mean, I
know it's the ordinary male lust, but for some reason, when you do it,
it has this effect on me."
	"So you enjoy it when I look at your body?"
	"Yes, I do."
	"You'd enjoy it even more if I looked at your body more often,
then, wouldn't you?"
	Color was rising in her cheeks.  She smiled happily.  "Oh,
yes, I'd enjoy that very much."
	"Well, there are a couple things you could do to make me look
at you more often."
	"Really?  What?"
	"You could wear some different clothes.  Like a skirt that
would let some of your legs show, or a blouse that was cut low enough
to give a glimpse of your breasts."
	She frowned.  "No, I couldn't wear those things.
They're... degrading.  They'll make me a sex object."
	Oops.  Well, what could he do to control the damage?  "But
there are plenty of long, conservative skirts that don't reveal much.
And blouses that just give a nice view of your upper chest without
showing too much of your breasts.  Plenty of women wear those.  Why
don't you try a couple of outfits like that next time you're at the
store, and buy a few?"
	"Hmmm.  Well, okay.  It _will_ get me more looks from you, I
guess."
	"Also, a little bit of lipstick might help."
	"Mmmm... okay, I'll try that, too."
	"Good girl.  And while we're on the subject, you're going to
continue to get excited whenever I look at your body.  In fact, it's
going to get you even more excited than it has been.  Okay?"
	"Okay," she agreed.
	"So I must be kind of special to you, if I make you feel this
way, huh?"
	"Well, yes, I suppose that's true.  Nobody else makes me feel
like that."
	"Don't you think you should show me how special I am?  I mean,
do something nice to let me know what I mean to you?"
	"Like what?"
	"When I drop you off tonight, you can kiss me.  Nothing fancy,
just a quick peck on the lips.  I'll be surprised by it.  And it'll
let me know how special I am."
	"All right, I'll give you a kiss.  But that's all."
	"Fine.  And when you kiss me, you'll feel a surge of pleasure,
like you do when I look at you, only stronger."
	"Okay."
	Rick paused for a moment, a thought percolating up through his
mind.  He'd accomplished all he really needed to this time, but there
was one other thing he was curious to try.  Just for fun...  "One last
thing, Candace.  The way you've been getting excited by me looking at
you.  You're going to start feeling that way when other men look at
your body.  Not as much as you do for me, but you'll still feel the
excitement.  Got that?"
	"Okay."
	Satisfied with his work, Rick led her through the procedure to
erase the memory of the conversation from her brain.  Gradually, the
drug wore off, and her conversational skills picked up again as they
arrived at her place.

	Candace looked at Rick as he stopped the car in front of her
building.  He was so... so different. When she was around him, she
felt so... wonderful.  It was impossible to describe.  Suddenly, some
deep part of her subconscious took control of her body.  She leaned
over and put her lips to Rick's.
	An electric thrill shot down her spine at the touch of his
lips.  She pulled away, startled, trying to compose herself.
"Umm... uh... Thanks for dinner, Rick.  We're still on for tomorrow,
right?"  She made a queasy smile in an attempt to hide her nerves.
	"Sure, Candace," he replied, smiling broadly.  "Pick you up at
eight?"
	"Uh... yeah, yeah.  Okay, see ya!"  She hurried out of the
car, closing the door behind her, and trotted up to the steps.  She
heard the car accelerate down the street.
	What was coming over her?  All her life, she'd striven to be
the very model of the independent female, dependent on men for
nothing, least of all emotional well-being, and here she was going all
goo-goo eyed over Rick!  She wasn't so much bothered by the fact that
she'd kissed him as by the reason she'd kissed him.  Why did he have
this power over her?
	Confused, she strode up the stairs to her apartment.

	Rick glanced back at Candace in the rear-view mirror as he
drove off down the street.  Perfect.  She was slowly, but surely,
falling in love with him.  The hypnotic drug had given him the key to
a more balanced, a more equal relationship.  With a few more uses of
the drug, he could guide Candace and himself in a deep, lasting love,
the kind that he'd dreamed of having when he'd first met her.
	But something bothered him.  Was that what he really wanted, a
deep, lasting, "equal" relationship?  Or was he really after something
else?  It wouldn't have occurred to him to question his own motives if
not for that one additional suggestion he'd given to Candace.  She
would get turned on by other men looking at her.  Why had he done
that?
	Rick pondered these questions as he drove on into the night.


Two
===

	Rick realized when he got home that he faced a rather critical
short-term problem: his supply of the hypnotic drug was low.  Looking
into the tiny vial, he estimated that at most three doses of the fluid
remained.  He'd have to get more.
	He pondered the problem as he went to bed that night.  He had
no way to get more himself; he was just a mail clerk.  He'd have to
make use of Briggs, hypnotize him and get him to order some more.  But
how best to go about it?

	The next morning, he took the half-full vial with him to work,
hoping for some excuse to go to Briggs' office.  Typically, he was
sent up there several times a week, but it could be days until it
happened next.
	Luck was on his side.  A sample of a new antibiotic had
arrived for Briggs.  Rick thought about volunteering to take it up,
but didn't want to arouse suspicion.  Harvey Sheldon, the mail room
supervisor, knew that Rick hated Briggs with a passion, and would
probably take note of his sudden enthusiasm to see "The Marketing
Monster."  So Rick remained calm and casual, and got lucky.  Sheldon
told him to take the package up.
	Rick rode the elevator up to the Marketing Department.  "Hi,
Jen," he greeted the secretary.  "Got a package here for Briggs."
	"Oh, hi, Rick." Jennifer smiled at him.  "Why don't just leave
that here, and I'll give it to him, okay?"
	"Uh..."  Rick thought fast.  "I'm afraid I can't do that.  Mr
Briggs has to sign for it personally."
	"Oh."  Jennifer frowned at the unusual request.  "Well, okay,
then, why don't you just take it on in, then."
	"Thanks, Jen," Rick responded, relieved.  He strode  through
the doors into Briggs's lair.  "Package for you, sir."
	"Mmm..."  Briggs took the package from Rick's outstretched
hand.  "Oh, all right.  Thanks, Rick."
	Rick paused awkwardly before leaving.  "Uh..."  His eyes
searched Briggs's desk, settling on an empty coffee mug.  "Can I get
you some more coffee, sir?"
	Briggs was taken aback by the unusual offer.  "Huh?"
	"W-Well, sir, I... thought you might like some more coffee,"
Rick repeated stupidly.
	Briggs thought for a moment, and shrugged.  "Sure.  Here you
go.  No cream, no sugar."
	Rick took the offered mug and walked out of the office.
Jennifer looked up as he came out, saw him carrying the mug, and
quickly picked hers up off the desk.  "Could you get me some, too,
Rick?" she asked, thrusting the mug toward him with one hand, nibbling
on a block of chocolate with the other.
	"Sure thing, Jen," he replied, taking the mug.  Rick trotted
down the hall to the coffee machine and filled up the mugs, adding a
touch of cream to Jennifer's.  Carefully, he measured out five
droplets of the fluid and dripped them into Briggs's mug.  He was
about to put the vial with what was left of the fluid back in his
pocket when something occurred to him.
	He looked down the hall to where Jennifer sat behind the desk,
her overweight body crammed into an office chair.  He'd always felt
sorry for her, for her seeming inability to control her appetite, and
her craving for chocolate.  He'd been planning to use the last of the
fluid on Candace, but...
	If his plan worked, he'd have all of the drug he needed.  And
if it didn't, he would only have one more dose, and that wasn't enough
to make much of a difference with Candace.  So why not use it to do
Jennifer a favor?
	Decided, he poured half the remaining fluid, one more dose,
into Jennifer's coffee.  Replacing the empty vial in his pocket, he
carried the coffee back up the hall.
	"Here you go, Jen," he said as he passed her the mug.
	"Oooh, thanks, Rick," she responded, taking the coffee and
sipping it.  She smiled at the taste.  "You got it just right."
	"Of course I did," he remarked casually, carrying the second
mug into Briggs's office.  "Here you go, sir.  Black."
	Briggs took the mug and sipped at it.  "Thanks, Rick."
	"Anytime, Mr. Briggs.  Anytime," Rick said as he walked out
the door.  Briggs shot him a quizzical look in response to his casual
manner.  Rick ignored it.

	Half an hour later, after making the regular 11:00 mail run to
the fifth floor, Rick returned to Marketing to see if the drugs had
taken effect.  Jennifer sat at her desk, looking blankly at the papers
before her, her hands resting calmly on the desktop.
	"Jennifer?" Rick asked.
	"Hmm.  Yes?"
	Rick tried to think of something to ask next, something
unusual, but not so unusual as to make him look like an idiot if the
drug hadn't taken effect.  "So... been abducted by any UFO's
recently?"  he asked, mentally kicking himself afterwards.
	"No," she replied calmly.
	Rick took this as proof enough that she was under the drug.
"You really like chocolate, don't you?" he asked nonchalantly.
	"I love it."
	"You eat it a lot?"
	"Three bars a day.  Plus some ice cream at home in the
evening."
	"Well, you know it's bad for you, don't you?  You're
overweight because you eat so much chocolate."
	"Yes, I know.  I try to give it up all the time, but I just
can't.  I become a nervous wreck.  It's like I'm addicted to it."
	Rick had no idea whether or not he could cure her condition,
but he decided it was worth a shot.  "I think from now on, you're
going to find you're not so interested in chocolate.  As a matter of
fact, it just tastes bad to you.  You don't know why exactly, but it
does.  And you won't want to eat it anymore.  As a matter of fact,
you're going to find that sweets in general aren't very tasty.
Understand?"
	"Okay.  Whatever you say."
	"And you're going to start being concerned about getting in
shape.  You're going to join a fitness club and work out regularly
three times a week.  Concentrate on your chest and your legs, but make
sure to get well-conditioned overall.  Okay?"
	"Sure."
	"Good girl."  Rick didn't want to leave her at her desk in a
suggestible state.  If some passerby found her like this, it would
seem pretty weird.  "Jennifer, why don't you go to the ladies' room
right now, find yourself a stall, and sit in it for fifteen minutes or
so?  Then you can come back to your desk.  When you do, you will have
forgotten all about this conversation we had, okay?"  Rick hoped this
would give her enough time to come down from the drug.
	"Sure thing, Rick," she said, getting up and walking down the
hall.  He watched her, smiling.  A new leaf had turned over in her
life, he thought.
	Rick turned and strode into Briggs's office, calm and
confident.  Thus he was quite startled to be greeted by Briggs's angry
roar.  "What the hell are you doing walking into my office?"  Rick
froze, in fear for his job and his career, transfixed by the angry,
reddened face of Damon Briggs. His mind whirled.
	Think, dammit, think! he told himself.  Why was Briggs yelling
at him?  Did he not drink the coffee?  A quick glance at Briggs's desk
confirmed that he had in fact drunk the coffee.  What, then?  Rick
thought quickly through all he knew about the drug and hypnosis in
general.  
	It occurred to him that even if Briggs was in a suggestible
state, that wouldn't necessarily keep him from reacting to an unusual
situation, such as a mailroom clerk barging into his office without
warning.  The only thing to do was to try to convince Briggs that this
wasn't at all unusual.
	"Ummm, well, it isn't that unusual for me to walk into your
office, is it, Mr. Briggs?" he asked nervously.
	Briggs's brow furrowed.  "Well..." he began.
	Rick cut him off, pressing the attack.  "In fact, it's
downright ordinary.  I can walk into your office whenever I want.
Right?"
	Briggs thought for a moment.  "Well, yes, now that you mention
it, it seems perfectly normal.  Yes."  He nodded to himself,
convinced.  "Sorry for yelling at you," he said, in a tone that didn't
sound very apologetic.  Even in a suggestible state, Rick realized,
Briggs was still an asshole.
	He decided not to mess with the formalities, and used Briggs's
first name.  "I can call you Damon, can't I?" he asked.
	"Sure, Rick."
	"Damon, remember those samples of tetracathalamine that I
brought in last week? The ones that got sent here by mistake?"
	"Yes.  Yes, I do."
	"Listen to me carefully.  It turns out that you actually do
need some tetracathalamine.  Thirty minutes after I leave this office
today, you are going to have Jennifer call up Dexalco and order ten
vials of it.  Understand so far?"
	"Yes."
	"Now listen carefully.  When it arrives, you are going to get
a fresh cup of coffee and tell Jennifer to hold all your calls.
You're going to open the package, take out the first vial, and put
five drops of the fluid into your coffee.  Five drops.  No more, no
less.  You will drink the coffee as quickly as possible.  For the next
twenty minutes, you will do nothing.  When twenty minutes has elapsed,
you will call the mailroom and ask to have me sent up to see you.  You
will tell Mr. Sheldon that the situation is urgent.  Then you will sit
here and do absolutely nothing until I arrive.  Do you understand?"
	"Yes."
	"Excellent.  Now, what do you think of me professionally,
Damon?"
	"You're a loser.  You're a wimp who'll never amount to
anything.  You're afraid to take action."  He said all this as though
he was giving Rick his opinion of the Yankees' chances at the pennant
this year.
	"I see," Rick responded.  None of this was any surprise to
him.  "Well, you'll find your opinion of me has changed.  Now you
think I'm actually a very capable worker with a bright future in your
department.  Don't you think so?"
	Briggs pondered this, as though wondering why he hadn't
realized it sooner.  "Why, yes, you are."
	"You're so impressed you'll do anything to get me into your
department, won't you?  In fact, you're going to have a position ready
for me when you summon me in a few days, aren't you?"
	"Why, yes, I most certainly am.  I'm not going to let some
other department snatch you up!" he said, with quite a bit of
conviction.
	"Someone of my talent should have an important job, isn't that
right, Damon?"
	"Of course!"
	"Like... Assistant Director of Marketing.  Right underneath
you."
	"Yes, yes... I'll serve Gadsen his notice immediately."
	Rick smiled.  James Gadsen, the current Assistant Director,
was a pompous ass, second only to Briggs himself in that regard.  No
one would be sorry to see him go.  "But you still won't be able to get
rid of Gadsen for at least a month, will you?"
	"Well, no, I guess not."
	"But if you wait that long, someone else might hire me."
	"That's true.  Hmmm..."  Briggs took on a thoughtful
expression.
	"So you'll have to hire me immediately, and just give me a
month of paid vacation time."
	Briggs brightened.  "Yes, that would work."
	"And I'll come in and start work when Gadsen leaves." 
	"Yes, you can come in then."
	"I'll have a nice, large office and my own secretary."
	"Of course."
	"Good, good," Rick responded.  "Smart choice.  Now when I walk
out that door, you are going to forget that this conversation ever
happened.  And you aren't going to answer your phone for another
fifteen minutes.  Got it?"
	"Got it," Briggs responded cheerfully.
	Rick strode out of the office without another word.

	Candace strode out of the bookstore.  She clutched her
purchases tightly to her breast, as though hoping that the writings of
several prominent radical feminists would have the power to physically
deflect the admiring glances men shot her way.  She caught a pair of
teenage boys nudging each other as they looked in her direction, and
felt the blood rush to her face.
	It had never been like this before.  Men had always looked at
her like that, practically ever since she'd reached puberty.  She knew
she was attractive by any standard.  But until now, it had been
something she could ignore, or even use to her advantage, teasing men
to get what she wanted from them.  And then, so suddenly, just a
couple days ago, she'd started feeling these sudden flashes of
pleasure whenever she noticed a man looking at her.  It was almost
like she was getting horny just from the attention.
	She noticed a department store to her left.  It was nothing
unusual, just the same department store where she usually bought her
clothes.  But this time, she noticed something different.  Her eyes
were drawn to a skirt in the display window.  It was nothing special,
just an ordinary, casual white skirt extending a foot below the
mannequin's knees.  Quite conservative.
	Something about it entranced Candace.  Unbidden, an image of
herself in the skirt floated into her mind.  As she walked, her calves
were alternately exposed by the swishing of the skirt.  Men would look
her way, and... ooh, it was so exciting.
	She snapped herself out of it.  She couldn't possibly wear
that thing, displaying her legs like some sort of floozy.  It would
make a mockery of all she stood for.  Horny, single-minded men staring
at her legs, and Rick...
	Rick, oh, Rick!  The looks she could get from him!  She got
excited just thinking about it!  She had to have that skirt.
	Candace strolled confidently into the store, her previous
mores forgotten, and searched out the women's casual wear section.
She found a friendly salesgirl there, who helped her try on several
skirts and some matching blouses.  Looking at herself in the mirror,
she had to admit she was quite pretty.  And she didn't really mind
dressing for looks.  After all, if men had so much fun looking at her,
wasn't it only fair that she should have a little fun, too?
	After a few hours, she had four skirts and three blouses that
could be combined in any number of ways. a couple of belts, and three
pairs of casual leather shoes.  She had struck up quite a rapport with
the salesgirl, who was very helpful with her advice.  The total bill
was upwards of five hundred dollars.  Candace handed over her credit
card, and the purchases were charged.  "Well!  Anything else?" the
salesgirl asked buoyantly.
	"Uh... yes.  Could you point me to the cosmetics counter?"

	Rick picked Candace up that evening at eight, and couldn't
believe his eyes.  She looked incredible!  The dowdy old slacks and
shirt were gone, replaced by a simple white cotton blouse and a blue
denim skirt.  The half-inch heels of her shoes clicked across the
sidewalk as they walked to the car, and her skirt swayed as she
walked, giving occasional glimpses of calf.
	But her face was the most amazing part of her.  She'd been
attractive without makeup, but with a light coat of lipstick, some
mascara, and the faintest trace of eyeshadow, she was positively
gorgeous.  He told her so.  "Thank you, Rick," she said demurely,
looking away to hide her blush.  She was clearly enjoying the
attention he was paying her.  Rick was pleased.  He'd told her
specifically to get the lipstick, but the rest of the makeup was her
own doing.  She was really starting to enjoy the attention she was
getting.
	They went to dinner at a Greek restaurant.  Rick made a point
of glancing at some part of her body every few minutes throughout the
meal.  Often, this would make her get flustered and forget what she
was saying.  Rick found himself enjoying the game, trying to disrupt
her just at the most complicated part of her sentences.
	She got plenty of long looks from other men.  Rick noticed
many of these.  Candace was less often aware of them, since her
attention was focused on Rick.  Occasionally, however, she would
notice, and this would cause her to smile in a goofy way and forget
what she was saying.
	They went to a movie afterward, a corny romantic comedy.  Rick
got up during the last half hour to get them some soft drinks.  Before
returning to the theatre, he dropped what was left of the hypnotic
drug into her drink.  Being careful to keep Candace's drink in his
right hand, and his own in his left, he went back to the theatre and
sat down.
	Candace thanked him, and sucked down her drink over the rest
of the movie.  When the movie let out, they climbed into the car to
drive home.  As usual, Candace gradually slipped into a trance-like
state.  When Rick was sure she was under the drug's effect, he started
talking to her.
	"Are you enjoying all the attention you're getting?"
	"Oh, yes.  It gets me so... excited."
	"You mean aroused?"
	"Yes, that's it.  Aroused."
	"Men looking at you?"
	"Yes.  Especially you."
	Rick smiled.  "Well, from now on, whenever you see me looking
at you, you're going to wonder what it would be like to have sex with
me."
	"But I can't... you're a man... and men are so..." she
sputtered.
	"You're just going to wonder," he reassured her.  "And
tonight, when I drop you off, you're going to give me a kiss. Not a
quick kiss, like last time, but a long, passionate kiss.  You're
starting to fall in love with me, and you want me to know.  Got that?"
	"Yes."
	"And then after you go back to your apartment, you're going to
go to bed, and you're going to masturbate.  It's going to feel very
good, and you're going to have a great orgasm.  Aren't you?"
	"Yes, I am."
	"And just before you orgasm, you're going to think of me."
	"O-okay."  She was having trouble with this.  Rick decided to
leave it at that.
	After leading her through the memory-blocking exercise, Rick
resumed normal conversation, and the drug wore off.  Soon they were
back at her apartment.
	"Thanks for the evening, Rick.  It was wonderful," she told him.
	"You're welcome.  I had fun, too," he replied.
	She sat there, frozen, staring at him for a second, and then
slowly closed her eyes, leaning toward him.  Rick leaned toward her,
and their lips met.  Slowly and softly they kissed, their tongues
probing, dancing, intertwining.  At long last, Rick was getting a kiss
from the woman of his dreams.
	After an eternity, they broke apart, gazing into each other's
eyes.  "Thanks again, Rick," Candace breathed softly, getting out of
the car and closing the door.
	Rick smiled to himself as he watched her walk up the steps.
Two weeks ago, she'd been on the verge of dumping him, and now, with
the help of the drug, they'd just had their first kiss.  Life was wonderful.

	Candace stumbled into her apartment, feeling more confused
than ever.  How was this happening to her?  This was everything she
had ever fought against; dependency on a man.  Why did it have to feel
so good to betray her beliefs?
	Half an hour later, she flopped into bed, her clitoris itching
for attention.  She shoved one hand under her nightshirt and began
rubbing gently at the sensitive round nub between her legs.  Oooh, it
felt so good.  Candace had first discovered how to bring herself
pleasure when she was thirteen years old, and since then she'd
perfected the skill.  
	She started slowly, gently bringing her clitoris to erection
with a series of light brushes.  It tickled, but it was pure pleasure.
When she was fully hard, she gradually increased the speed and
pressure of her strokes, climbing the long hill to orgasm.  With her
free hand, she caressed her breasts, rubbing the nipples until the
stood hard and erect, pointing outward from her body.
	When she felt herself approaching orgasm, she slipped the
first knuckle of her index finger into her steamy vagina, gently
stroking the top of it, bringing her to new heights of sensation.  It
felt so good, much better than those fleeting rushes she got from
being looked at by men.  Her orgasm built inexorably toward a peak.
She gloried in it, reaffirming that she and she alone held the key to
ultimate pleasure, not some dickheaded sexist pig men.  Her orgasm
reached the boiling point...
	... and without warning, and image of Rick leapt into her
mind, so vivid it almost seemed real.  He lay between her legs, his
erect member at the gap between her legs, and he was pushing, pushing
into her.  "No, nooooo..." she moaned, fighting to expel the image
from her mind.  This was not right.  But it felt so good!  She could
just imagine what it would feel like to take that massive piece of
meat inside her.
	Her body overwhelmed her, the image of Rick dominating her
mind.  She burst into orgasm, shrieking his name.  "Rick, Rick!  Oh,
Rick!  Yes!  Yessssss!"  Her body bounced against the bed as she
struggled to take his imaginary manhood inside her, her hips straining
as waves of pleasure rushed across her body.
	She collapsed, exhausted, on the bed, the vision of Rick
fading from her mind.  As the pleasure drifted away, desperation
overcame her.  How could this be happening to her?  Fantasizing about
having sex with a man?
	Tired and more confused than ever, Candace drifted off into a
troubled sleep.

	Rick walked into work the next morning tense and nervous.
Today should be the day, he thought.  He got right to work, hoping to
pass the time until he was called into Briggs's office.  He happened
to be in the mailroom when the package from Dexalco came in.  He was
careful not to be seen looking at it more than casually, however.  He
didn't want to arouse any suspicion.  Presently, Harvey assigned one of
the other workers to take it up to Briggs.  Rick mentally prepared
himself.
	Twenty-five minutes later, Harvey's phone rang, and the word
came in that Briggs wanted to see Rick.  Rick pretended to be
surprised as he walked over to the elevator.
	He got off at Marketing and walked over to Jennifer's desk.
He was disappointed to see that she was still her same old overweight
self.  It was unreasonable, though, to expect anything to have
changed in two days.  It would take time.  He did note with
satisfaction, however that there was no chocolate bar on her desk.  In
fact there was no food or drink at all except a half-eaten apple.
Good girl, he thought!  He should make sure, though.
	"Jennifer!" he cried in mock surprise, "No chocolate?"
	She grimaced.  "Ugh.  No.  For some reason, I just haven't
felt like having it recently.  How's it going, Rick?  What brings you
up here?"
	"Briggs wants to see me."
	"Oooh.  I'm sorry," she said sympathetically.  "Well, I hope
he doesn't rip your head off.  Go on in."
	"Thanks, Jen," he responded, walking through the doors into
Briggs's office.
	Briggs jerked to life as he entered.  "Hello, Rick.  What can
I do for you?"
	"The hypnotic drug came in?"
	"Yep.  Here it is."  He gestured toward an open box on the
desk.  Inside, Rick saw nine glass vials, just like the one he'd
stolen earlier.  Sitting beside the box was a tenth vial, partially
full.  In front of it was a large, empty coffee mug.
	"So you followed my instructions, Damon?" Rick asked.
	"Yep.  To the letter."
	"Everything is taken care of?"
	"Sure is.  You start drawing your new salary tomorrow."
	"Great.  Good job, Damon."  Rick took one of the vials out of
the package and put it into one of the drawers of Briggs's desk.
Briggs watched with interest.  "Now," Rick instructed him, "the bottle
you just saw is for special occasions only.  You will remember where
it is, but you will never think about it.  Never, that is, unless I
say the words 'We need to halve a talk' to you.  When I do that, you
are to immediately come back here and get a fresh cup of coffee.  You
will then put five drops of that solution into your coffee, and drink
it.  From that point on, you will sit here and do nothing until I come
in and tell you otherwise.  Understand?"
	"Yes."
	"Now, the rest of these," I indicated the package, "were
forwarded to the Philadelphia office.  You will fill out all the
necessary paperwork, as though you'd sent it there, but you will also
forge a receipt from the interoffice mail carrier.  You will keep this
forged receipt in your files.  As far as you know, this package was
sent to Philadelphia.  Is that clear?"
	"Uh-huh."
	"Good."  Rick took the package.  He led Briggs through the
forget-this-conversation drill, and left the office.
	Jennifer was waiting outside, at her desk.  She looked at Rick
with her best sympathy expression.  "So how bad was it? she asked.
	Rick feigned unhappiness.  "Not too bad, I guess.  He gave me
the Assistant Director position."
	Jennifer's big brown eyes lit up in wonder.  "Really?  No,
you're joking!" she said, hitting him playfully.
	"Really!" Rick exclaimed, all pretense of forlornness gone, a
big smile splitting his face.  "I'm the new Assistant Director of
Marketing!"
	Jennifer squealed in delight, jumping up to give him a
friendly hug.  Rick suffered this as best he could, as her flabby arms
enveloped him.  She was a friend, after all.

	Harvey Sheldon congratulated Rick on his promotion and gave
him the rest of the day off.  "Hell," he joked, "last thing I want to
do is piss off the new Assistant Director of Marketing!"  Rick spent
the day moving what few personal effects he had at work up to his new
office and ordering furniture and supplies from the company store.
	That evening, he picked Candace up for a celebratory dinner.
She wore a tasteful blue denim sleeveless top, a long white cotton
skirt, and a pair of sensible ladies' shoes.  She was gorgeous.  Rick
made sure to let his eyes roam all up and down her body, causing her
no end of pleasurable discomfort.
	They went to a pricey Italian restaurant.  Rick splurged on
good wine, making sure to get Candace good and drunk.  And, as usual,
he took advantage of her after-dinner trip to the restroom to pour a
little bit of the drug into her drink.
	On the way, home, Rick waited until she had slipped into a
suggestible state before discussing the evening's activities.
	"How are you feeling, Candace?"
	"Happy."
	"Oh?  Why are you so happy?"
	"Because you keep looking at my body, silly!  It gets me
so... hot to be looked at like that."
	Rick smiled.  "Well, from now it's going to make you even
hotter, okay?"
	"Okay!" she said excitedly.  She seemed to really be getting
into this.
	"You want to get even more attention, don't you, Candace?"
	"Oh, do I ever!"
	"Well you could get more attention by dressing the right way.
A little more... provocatively."
	"How do I do that?"
	"Well, try some shorter skirts.  Men like to see women showing
a lot of leg.  And wearing blouses with lower necklines will show more
of your breasts.  That's another good eyecatcher."
	"Hmm.  I guess I'll try that."
	"Also, high heels put a curve in the back of the leg, which a
lot of mend find really sexy.  And some simple jewelry can draw a lot
of attention, too."
	She pondered this for a minute, an uncertain look on her face.
	"Well, it's the truth," Rick said.  "Do it if you want to."
He knew, of course, that sooner or later she would.  Changing the
subject, he asked, "Did you masturbate last night?"
	Color rushed to her cheeks.  "Yes, I did."
	"And what happened?"
	"I... I thought of you."
	"How did that make you feel?"
	"It was so... exciting.  But I'm ashamed of it."
	"Why?"
	"Because you're a man!  And men just want to use women and
cast them aside.  I'm disgusted that I could ever thing about letting
you do that to me."
	"But if it's so exciting to think about, could it be that
bad?"
	"Well..."
	"You're going to masturbate again tonight.  And again you're
going to think about me, and you're going to experience the most
intense orgasm you've ever had.  And you're going to love it."
	"Y-yes."
	"Tonight, when I drop you off, you're going to give me a long,
deep kiss.  It's going to feel so good.  And when I rub your nipples
through your blouse, you're going to feel a stirring deep within, a
desire to have me inside you, filling you up.  Understand?"
	She was shaking, the power of his suggestions battling with
her long-held beliefs.  "O-O-Okay."
	Rick watched as she calmed down, his suggestion implanting
itself in her brain.

	Candace snapped herself back to reality.  What had been going
on?  She felt woozy, as though she'd just been asleep.  But she
hadn't, she knew that.  She'd been sitting in the car, riding home
with Rick, and... she couldn't remember.
	"God, honey, I shouldn't have had so much to drink," she
moaned.
	"Huh?  Oh, I'm sorry.  All that wine went to your head, huh?"
Rick responded.
	"Yeah, I guess so."  She leaned her head against his shoulder
in a familiar way.  A week ago, she wouldn't have been able to picture
herself taking such comfort from a man, but now, here she was, leaning
on his shoulder as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
	Rick pulled up at her apartment.  She looked up at him and
smiled.  "Thanks for dinner," she purred, in a dreamy voice.  God, he
was so... so... exciting.
	"My pleasure," he responded.
	She was drawn to his mouth.  Slowly, slowly, she leaned
forward, closing her eyes and parting her lips.  Her conscience
pleaded with her not to do this, not to give herself to a man, but she
was driven by a fire in her loins.
	He leaned over to meet her, and their lips touched, a thrill
running through her body at the contact.  She felt hot...
	Her brain became aware of a gentle stroking on her left
nipple.  Oh, it felt so sexy...  She kissed him with renewed vigor,
mashing her lips and tongue against his teeth.  His hand on her breast
was setting her aflame.  Her hand involuntarily shot to his crotch,
grasping the stiff bulge she found there, squeezing, imagining the
treasure contained within.  Imagining his manhood inside her...
	No!  She fought the desire.  She mustn't let this happen!
with a gasp, she broke the kiss and pulled away from Rick.  He looked
at her, confused.  "I... I gotta go, Rick.  Bye."  She got out of the
car, doing her best to keep a serious, stern expression.  She caught a
glimpse of him looking at her hard nipples showing through the fabric,
and groaned audibly.  She closed the door and walked hurriedly to the
door.  
	"I'll call you tomorrow," he said to her back.  She turned and
looked at him through the window.  He was smiling at her.  She
couldn't help but smile back and wave weakly before turning back to
the door.  What the hell was happening to her?
	She opened the door and shot up the stairs, her clitoris
burning, aching for attention.

	Rick whistled merrily as he drove home, thinking about
Candace.  He could picture her running up the stairs as fast as she
could, desperate to get to her apartment and relieve the tension in
her crotch.  He admitted to himself that it was fun to see her like
that, to know that he had that effect on her.
	He was quite pleased with their little conversation about
clothing.  Not once had he ever commanded her to start dressing more
provocatively.  But she'd been interested all the same.  And soon, he
had no doubt, she would be sporting some more new clothes.
	He'd been quite surprised when she'd grabbed his cock.  In
fact, he'd almost taken it as a signal that she was going to go all
the way, and he'd been quite surprised when she pulled away.  But all
these feelings were new to her, he realized, and she couldn't be
expected to realize what sort of signals she was sending.
	Ah, well. He would get where he was going soon enough.

	Candace stumbled into her apartment, slamming the door in her
haste.  She was almost too weak to stand.  Not even bothering to turn
the lights on, she threw herself onto the couch and pulled her skirt
up.  She was so horny from being with Rick all night, and the feel of
his hand on her breast...
	The elastic of her panties snapped as she pulled the wet
fabric violently away from her.  She bypassed her usual opening
routine, shoving one finger deep inside her.  With her free hand, she
rubbed furiously at her erect clitoris.
	The finger in her pussy slid back and forth with a quick
rhythm.  She imagined it was Rick, his hard manhood filling her with
pleasure.  She imagined him thrusting in and out of her, his body
moving up and down in time with hers.
	Without warning, she came, a torrential avalanche of pleasure
rolling over her body as her fingers thrust furiously in and out of
her.  Her mind envisioned Rick's throbbing manhood shooting its seed
deep within her.  She screamed in ecstasy as the imagined semen shot
into her belly, and cried out his name.

	Rick called Briggs the next day and confirmed that he was now
being paid $80,000 per year, the standard salary for an Assistant
Director.  Excellent.  He told Briggs that he would come back to work
at the beginning of the next month.
	He spent the day lounging around the house, relaxing.  His
mind wandered to Candace, and he wondered how long it would be before
he would get into her bed.  Soon, he knew, soon.  But it was so hard
to be patient.
	Aroused, he took a short walk to the newsstand on the corner
near his apartment.  After a few minutes of browsing, he purchased a
soft-core adult magazine, one of the slickly-produced national titles.
He'd never done this before, but the frustration of his situation
drove him to seek any release he could find.
	Back at his apartment, he removed his purchase from the brown
paper bag and began to flip through it.  The magazine contained ten or
so different photo sets.  Most were of lone women.  Some featured two
women in a lesbian situation, and several featured women and men
posing in various sexual positions.
	His eyes fixed on one of the male-female couples, and he
stopped flipping pages.  He was captivated by the woman.  It wasn't so
much her appearance; she was fairly good-looking, but not unusually so
for a magazine like this.
	It was the way she was dressed, and the expression on her
face, that caught his eye.  She was lying on her back, legs spread and
resting on the shoulders of the male model, who was preparing to shove
his cock into her pussy.  Her clothes were nothing short of whorish.
A shiny black leather skirt lay bunched around her waist, pulled up by
one hand to give her partner access to her pussy.  A white fishnet
bodystocking had been pulled down her chest, laying bare her breasts,
which were so large and round as to be obviously surgical.  Black
fishnet stockings covered her legs, and adorning her feet were shiny
black pumps with heels so long they had to be impossible to walk on.
	But her face was the fascinating part.  It was well-made up,
her hair immaculately styled.  With her free hand, she was gripping
the man's cock, pulling it toward her pussy.  And the expression on
her face was one of pure lust.  Lips open, teeth mashed together in
determination, eyes fixed on the cock in her hand.  The look that said
that the cock was the only thing on her mind, the only thing she
needed.  The look of a complete slut finally getting the one thing she
craved in life.
	The strength of Rick's reaction to this picture amazed him.
Never before had he found that sort of extreme promiscuity even
remotely attractive.  But somehow, this picture, this woman,
completely entranced him.  It was just the fact that she seemed to
have so completely dedicated herself to the pursuit of sex, to the
point of dressing like a whore and even having her breasts surgically
enlarged.
	His hand reached down to the zipper of his jeans...

	Rick took Candace out every single night for the next several
weeks.  When the chance arose, typically once every two or three
evenings, he slipped the hypnotic fluid into her drink and let it take
effect.  On the way home, he would question her and "touch up" her
programming, making minor adjustments here and there, generally
designed to increase the strength of her desire for him.
	Every night when he dropped her off, they would make out for a
brief period, his hand rubbing her breasts as she nibbled his ears or
kissed his neck or lips.  The first few times, these sessions ended
quickly, with Candace breaking things off abruptly and leaving.  But
soon, she became more relaxed, and they spent more and more time after
each date sitting in his car kissing and nuzzling, Candace getting
deliriously hot from Rick's attentions, and Rick getting hot from
thinking about how hot he could make Candace.  And after Candace left
the car, she would always rush up to her apartment and masturbate on
the couch, dreaming of Rick's cock filling her up.
	While this was going on, Candace's wardrobe shifted again.
Now she favored sleeveless blouses, often with low necklines, and
skirts that left her knees well exposed.  Often she would wear a
comfortable pair of pumps with heels around two inches in length.
This caused her ass to gyrate a little when she walked, much to the
pleasure of Rick and any other men in the area.  She wore a bit more
makeup, with a brighter color lip gloss.  A few simple pieces of
jewelry - a couple earrings, a pendant, a bracelet on one arm -
completed the look.  Casual and tasteful, yet quite sexy.
	After two weeks of this, when Rick was sure that Candace was
comfortable with the intimacy, he suggested to her on the way home
that she invite him up to her apartment.  When they got there, she
did.

	Candace calmed her nerves as she unlocked and opened the door.
She was torn between two parts of her mind.  One the one hand was the
part of her that knew men to be evil manipulators, the part that was
scared to death of letting Rick into her private life so late at
night.  But the other part of her was the part that had already fallen
madly in love with him, the part that thrilled to his gaze, and lusted
for the feel of his body touching hers.  And it was this part that was
winning.
	She showed Rick to the couch and breezed into the kitchen,
asking if he wanted a drink.  Never having had a man into her
apartment after a date before, she was only dimly aware of the
protocol in such a situation.  Rick refused her offer.  She poured
herself a glass of water and returned to the living room, sitting on
the couch next to Rick.
	Minutes later, after a few volleys of polite conversation,
they were in each other's arms again, kissing and fondling.  Candace
writhed with an electric heat, sexual energy coursing through her
body.  The independent-female ideal toward which she'd striven for so
long melted in the heat of her desire for Rick's body.
	Slowly, tenderly, Rick unbuttoned her blouse, a sleeveless
white cotton thing she'd bought a few days ago.  It was such a sexy
piece of clothing compared to what she'd been wearing a month ago.
She grimaced inwardly as she remembered the formless, body-hiding
things she'd worn then.
	Her thoughts returned to the situation at hand as Rick kissed
the soft flesh of her breasts.  Oh, it felt so good!  How could she
have ever thought that men were evil, when they could do something
like this to her?
	Now he was unhooking her bra, his hands caressing her bare
back as he slid it off her chest, freeing her breasts.  The cool air
on her exposed nipples sent a sensual chill down her spine.  Rick
leaned toward them and gently blew on them.  The quick alternation of
cool air and warm excited her, and her nipples stood forth proudly.
Mentally, she begged Rick to touch them.
	He did better than that.  He leaned over and brought his mouth
down to her left nipple, gently grasping it in his lips, flicking his
tongue back and forth over the tip.  Candace let out a long gasp of
pleasure at the sensation.  Her chest heaved as she breathed heavily,
and her breasts rose and fell, alternately pushing into Rick's face
and withdrawing, stretching her nipples out as he continued to suck
them.
	Tonight was the night, she knew.  The night they would have
sex.  The night she would finally feel him inside her, filling the
aching hole between her legs.  She would let him do it, let him make
love to her.  She lay back and relished the feeling of his mouth on
her breasts.
	Rick continued to suck her breasts for some time, occasionally
switching between the two.  Candace waited for him to make a move
toward her crotch.  As the minutes passed, she became increasingly
frustrated.  She didn't let it show; she couldn't debase herself that
far.  But she ached for him to fill the void within her.
	After half an hour of this, Rick sat back and looked at her.
"I should be going," he said.
	Candace reeled at his words.  How could this be?  Surely he
wanted it at least as much as she did.  Didn't he?  He was a man,
after all, and by nature he must be interested in sex.  All that
escaped her mouth was a meek, "Okay."
	He stood up and walked to the door.  "I'll call you tomorrow
afternoon, all right?"
	"Sure."
	"Bye."  And with that, he was gone.
	Candace shoved a finger into her pussy, desperately trying to
bring back the excitement she'd felt just a moment before.  She came
a minute later, but it was a stale orgasm, devoid of the passion she
felt when she was with Rick.
	As she came down, she wondered why he hadn't wanted to do it
with her.  Maybe he just wasn't turned on enough.  She'd have to do
something about that.  She would go shopping tomorrow morning...

	Rick struggled to calm himself as he drove away.  He could
have had it, he could've made love to her right then and there, and
she would have let him do it.  But he hadn't.  He'd been planning to,
but he hadn't.  And it was hardest thing he'd ever not done.
	The damnedest thing was, he still didn't know why he'd left
without screwing her.  He'd gotten her so incredibly hot that she'd
wanted to do it, wanted to feel him inside her, and he'd known she
wanted it.  But some little voice inside him had told him to wait, had
told him that the time wasn't right, that if he did it now he'd be
throwing away something incredible.
	The last time he'd gotten this sort of advice from within
himself had been the time he'd stolen the hypnosis drug.  And look
what that'd gotten him!  So against all his urges, Rick had pulled
away and left.  And now he was as horny as he'd ever been in his life,
driving away from a woman he knew would eagerly welcome him inside
her.
	Why, why, why?  He almost banged his head against the
dashboard in frustration.  Making love to Candace would consummate
their relationship.  After spending a night of passion with him and
waking up in his arms, she would love him forever.  He was sure of
that.  That was what he wanted, wasn't it?  After all, he loved her!
	Didn't he? 

	Without being entirely aware of what he was doing, Rick
stopped at an ATM machine and withdrew a large wad of cash.  From
there he was drawn to "The Strip", the area of town where most of the
adult entertainment clubs were located.  Still proceeding on impulse,
he started driving up and down the streets past the clubs.
	His eyes roved over the hookers prowling the club parking
lots.  As drunk, horny men came out of the clubs, they would make
offers.  Occasionally Rick saw a deal being struck, and one of the
prostitutes would get into a car with a man.  But most of them were
still without business.  The night was young yet.
	Rick had seen these women before, when he'd been driving
through this section of town on his way somewhere else, and once when
he'd come to one of these clubs for a friend's bachelor party.  But
he'd never taken any real notice of them.  Now, though, he watched
them walk on their high heels, asses swaying, watched them smile at
potential customers, even licking their lips occasionally.  He was
fascinated, and strangely attracted to them, these women whose
business was sex.
	He cruised past the clubs for five or ten minutes, looking over
the hookers with an appraising eye.  Most were past their prime, women
in their late thirties and forties relying on too-small halter tops to
push up their sagging breasts and makeup to cover the lines on their
faces.  And many had a hardened, cynical look to them, a certain
narrowness in the eyes, no doubt from years of working the streets.
	And then Rick saw one that was different.  She wore the same
sort of clothes the others did - a hot pink halter top, black leather
skirt slit up the side, fishnet stockings and spiked heels - but the
body underneath was younger, firmer, with a tight ass and large, firm
tits.  Her makeup was similarly overdone - bright pink lipstick,
eyeshadow, blond hair teased up around her head - but the face
underneath was young and pretty, less hardened than those of her
colleagues.  Eighteen or nineteen, he guessed.
	Rick pulled into the parking lot next to her and rolled down a
window.  She looked up at him, smiling automatically.  "Hey, big guy!
Want a girlfriend?"
	"Maybe."  Rick smiled back.  "What's it cost?"
	"A hundred."
	"For what?"
	"A screw.  Fifty for a blowjob."
	"How much to come back to my place and stay there all night?"
	Her shaded eyebrows arched.  "Five hundred."
	Rick pulled several hundred dollar bills off the wad in his
pocket.  "Here's eight.  Pretend like you enjoy it."
	The girl blinked, then cautiously took the money from his
hand.  She counted the bills and smiled, stuffing them into her purse.
"Okay, mister.  I'm your happy girlfriend."  She walked around to the
passenger door.  Rick opened it, and she climbed in, the plastic
bracelets on her arms clicking merrily.  "What's your name, stud?" she
asked.
	"Rick.  What's yours?"
	"Bambi."
	Rick smiled.  Something about the name excited him.  He had
his own private slut for the night.

	Half an hour later, they arrived at Rick's apartment.  He
ushered Bambi inside, and told her to sit on the couch.  After getting
some drinks, Rick sat down next to her.  They talked casually for
about five minutes.
	"So, Bambi, how about a blowjob?" Rick asked suddenly,
deciding to take charge of the situation.
	Bambi took on a poorly faked look of shock.  "I'm not that
easy!  You've got to warm me up first, honey."  A coy smile followed
this last remark.
	Rick surprised himself with the anger of his response.  His
hand reached out and grasped a fistful of blonde hair, yanking it
backwards.  Bambi shrieked as her head jerked back.
	"Listen, you little tramp, I don't know what you usually do
when you're earning your living screwing customers, but tonight I'm
paying you eight hundred dollars to be my personal whore, and you're
going to do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you.  Understand?"
	"O-O-Okay, sir.  Wh-Whatever you want."
	"Good," Rick growled, letting go of her hair.  "Now suck my
cock, bitch."
	Bambi shuddered at his language, but quickly began fumbling
with his zipper.  Rick leaned back, enjoying himself as he watched the
hooker pull his hard cock out of his pants.  He didn't know why he'd
exploded in rage so suddenly, but he liked the effect.  The little
slut wasn't playing hard to get now, was she?
	Rick let out a moan as Bambi's shiny red lips encircled his
cock.  God, it felt so good.  All the tensions that had been created
by the whole incident with Candace melted away, draining out through
his cock into Bambi's mouth.
	Why did this feel so goddamn good?  Rick wondered about that.
He'd gotten head before, several times, and he'd always enjoyed it.
Women he'd loved had gently, tenderly, caressed his cock with their
mouths, bringing him to powerful orgasms.  But this was different.
The sensation he got from watching Bambi's glossy red lips slide up
and down his cock was... electric.  The plastic hoops dangling from
her earlobes swung back and forth as she pumped up and down on his
shaft.  He needed to fuck her, and he needed it now.
	Rick pushed Bambi's head off his cock.  Her eyes met his,
questioningly, showing a slight glint of fear.  "On your back, slut,"
he commanded.  Bambi obeyed without question, falling back on the
couch, raising her spiked heels into the air and spreading her
stocking-wrapped legs.  Her skirt fell open, revealing the soft pink
folds of her cunt.
	Rick looked down at her pussy lips as he crawled forward
between her legs.  They glistened with wetness.  Not that easy, huh?
Rick smiled.  The bitch had gotten wet just from having a cock in her
mouth.  And now she would do whatever he wanted for the rest of the
night.  He was in complete control, and she was nothing but a toy for
him to use however he wanted.  With a groan of pure pleasure, Rick
thrust his cock into Bambi's waiting pussy.
	She let out a gasp at his entry.  "I'm gonna fuck your brains
out, you cheap little slut," he murmured.  Bambi's only response was a
squeal as his cock took a long stroke in and out of her pussy.
Whether the squeal came from pleasure or pain he couldn't tell.  And
he didn't care.  The bitch was his toy.  A thought crossed his mind.
He could keep Bambi, threaten and intimidate her, make her stay here
after tonight, his permanent whore, his own personal slut.
	As quickly as the thought had entered his mind, though, it was
discarded.  People might come looking for her.  An angry pimp.  It
would be impossible to keep her from escaping.  And even on his new
salary, there was no way he could afford to hire her for the long
term.  No, he couldn't keep her, and that was that.
	But Candace...
	The truth hit him like a hammer, almost physically jarring
him.  Suddenly, all the little mysteries surrounding his relationship
with Candace clicked into place, revealing the pattern behind all that
he'd done.
	He didn't love Candace, and he never had.  Love was based on
mutual respect, on trust, on a willingness on the part of both people
to make themselves emotionally dependent on each other.  A sharing of
power.  And they'd never had that.  In the beginning, Candace had held
all the power, using him to get free dinners, making him wait for her
before dates, and teasing him mercilessly.  He'd been the victim of a
certain puppy-dog infatuation, but no more than that.  Not love.
	The drug had changed all that.  Now he had the power.  He
could incite fierce passions in her with nothing more than a look.  He
could influence her mode of dress by addicting her to these passions.
And he knew he could make love to her, if he wanted, and she would
respond eagerly.
	But he didn't love her.  Oh, she loved him, he was sure of
that.  She'd follow him to the ends of the Earth.  But for all its
strength, her love was artificial, forced upon her by the drug.  He
could never love someone over whom he had such control.  No, he didn't
want to make love to her.
	He wanted to fuck her.
	He wanted to use her body for his own pleasure, just as he was
doing now with the body of the whore writhing on the couch underneath
him.  He wanted Candace to be a slut, a cheap piece of trash who'd
live for cock, like the woman in the magazine.  He wanted her to dress
like a whore, doing or saying anything to satisfy her craving for a
good fucking.  Not the tender, passionate, caring caresses of a lover,
but hard, dirty, forceful use by her master.
	Rick throbbed in Bambi's cunt as he dreamed of what was to
come.  His cock was swollen with passion, with lust, but more than
anything, it was swollen with power.  He had the power, and he knew
it.  He would bend Candace to his will, molding her into the perfect
slut.  In time, she would be little more than a walking, breathing sex
doll, a well-tuned fucking machine.  And when the time came to be
used, she would beg for it.  Like the cheap slut she was.
	Rick's balls ignited at the thought.  His cock pistoned in and
out of Bambi's cunt with a frenzied speed, his orgasm coming to a head.
Bambi squealed underneath him as his cock exploded, shooting hot,
sticky wads of jism into the whore's cunt.  Rick shuddered as he felt
his power, felt it flowing from him, taking possession of the cheap
slut beneath him.  She was nothing more than a toy, a puppet under his
control, a slave to his power.  And soon, Candace would be too.



Three
=====

	Candace slept almost until noon the next morning, yet still
felt groggy and half-asleep when she woke up.  She had slept poorly,
her mind wracked by confusion over Rick's behavior.  A night of lying
awake thinking about it had failed to bring any insights as to why he
had passed up the chance to go to bed with her.
	She was scared.  Scared at the strength of her own desire for
him.  Scared at what she would become if he satisfied her desire.
Scared of the possibility that he wouldn't and she would be left
wanting.  Never before had a man aroused such feelings in her.  She
stumbled in the shower and stood there, the water running over her
body, thinking.  She stood there for nearly two hours before emerging,
feeling fresher, with a clear sense of resolve.  
	She was going to end it.  She was going to pick up the phone,
call him, and end it.  He would ask to see her, to talk about it in
person, and she would refuse.  She had to do it over the phone, out of
reach of his influence, out of reach of that... that power he had, to
make her lose control.  She would end it.  And then she would throw
out all those clothes she had bought since they'd started dating, the
ones that displayed her body like a museum exhibit, the ones that
stripped her of her dignity.  And she would put it all behind her, and
go back to being the old, independent Candace, who needed nothing and
wanted nothing from men.  
	Nothing.  She was going to do it.  She finished drying her
hair and sat on the bed, calming herself.  Her hand reached for the
phone.
	It rang.  Candace jumped at the sound, jerking away from the
phone.  It rang again, and she slowly reached out to it.  She picked
it up on the third ring and put it to her ear.  "Hello?"
	"Candace?"  The voice was Rick's.
	Oh, God! she thought.  No, no, no!  She was supposed to call
him.  Her courage, her dedication of moments before evaporated at the
sound of his voice.  She began to tremble.
	"Candace?  Are you there?"
	"Oh!  Y-yes."
	"Are you all right, honey?"
	"Yes, yes, I'm fine."  A soft heat entered her groin.
	"Okay... So how about dinner tonight?"
	No.  No.  I don't want to go out with you, Rick.  I don't want
to see you again.  Stay away from me.  "Uh... okay."
	"Great.  See you at eight?"
	She fought the rising fire.  Don't let him do this to you, she
screamed at herself.  "Okay."
	"Great.  I love you."
	"I... I love you, too.  Bye."  She hung up the phone, shaking
as she fought her own body.  He had done this to her without her even
seeing him!  A wave of passion washed over her as she fell back on the
bed.  Her hands shot to her clitoris and went furiously to work, her
worries forgotten in the heat of the moment.
	She came furiously, her back arching as she writhed on the
bed, screaming Rick's name.  She needed him so badly, needed to feel
him inside her, filling her.  She didn't care what she had to wear,
what she had to turn herself into, just as long as she could get him
inside her.
	After her breathing returned to normal, she got up and got
dressed.  She had some shopping to do.

	Rick hung up the phone, grinning happily.  Candace was hooked,
and well on her way to becoming the whore he wanted her to be.
	He was especially happy that morning, having gotten his
money's worth out of Bambi.  He'd fucked her four more times that
night.  Each time, he'd had her warm him up with a blowjob.  She
always did whatever he asked.  He'd pounded into her violently, using
her like a rag doll.  He could tell she wasn't enjoying it, but she
obeyed out of fear.  Although he enjoyed the fact that she was afraid,
doing this against her will, he knew the sex would've been better if
she'd been enjoying it.  But that was what Candace was for, wasn't it?
	Rick picked the phone up again, dialing Damon Briggs.  He was
going to be starting work the next day, and wanted to be sure things
were all set up for his return.
	The phone picked up.  "Damon Briggs."
	"Damon, this is Rick Logan.  I wanted to make sure
everything's set for me to start tomorrow."
	"Rick!  Good to hear from you.  Gadsen left yesterday.  Your
office is open and everything's ready for you.  Personnel has
scheduled several of the applicants for secretarial positions to come
by your office to be interviewed tomorrow.  You can pick your new
secretary from them."
	Rick had forgotten about the fact that he was going to have
his own secretary.  It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but
now he was wondering if it wasn't a liability.  He was going to have
to spend a morning interviewing applicants.  And then he was going to
have to spend several months dealing with a new, inexperienced
secretary, at a time when he was learning the ropes himself.  What he
needed was someone experienced, someone who had been around long
enough to learn the office politics, help him through tight spots.
Someone like...
	Rick thought furiously.  What exactly had he told Briggs?
Could Briggs be manipulated over the phone?  Well, it was worth a try.
"We need to have a talk, Damon," Rick enunciated clearly.
	The line went dead.  Briggs would be getting up to get himself
some coffee.  Rick spent the next thirty minutes pacing nervously,
wondering if this was going to work.  When he'd conditioned Briggs, he
had been assuming that he would always be able to come in and speak to
Briggs face-to-face.  He wasn't sure whether Briggs would answer the
phone in a suggestible state.  Well, if he failed, the worst that
could happen is that he would have to wait until tomorrow to
straighten this out.
	When Rick dialed again half an hour later, Briggs picked up
immediately.  "Hello?"
	"It's Rick."
	"Hello, Rick, I've been expecting you to call."
	Rick sighed in relief.  "Now, about my new secretary.  Don't
you think it's dangerous for me to have a new, inexperienced secretary
during my first few months in a new job?"
	"Well, yes, now that you mention it..."
	"What I need is an experienced secretary, someone who's been
in the department for awhile."
	"Hmmm.  Yes, you need someone who's got some experience..."
	"Like Jennifer."
	"Hmmm... Well, yes, but she's my secretary."
	"But we already have applicants for secretarial jobs coming up
to the department tomorrow, anyway.  You could transfer Jennifer to
me, and then interview the applicants yourself, and choose a
replacement from them."
	"Yes... Yes, that sounds like a good idea.  I've decided to
make Jennifer your secretary."
	"That's great news, Mr. Briggs!" Rick said, acting as though
Briggs had come up with the idea himself.  "I'll look forward to
working with her."

	Rick whistled happily to himself as he walked up the stairs to
Candace's apartment.  He was pleased with himself for securing
Jennifer as a secretary.  It would be good to have a knowledgeable
friend assisting him in his new job.
	He knocked on the door, anticipating a pleasurable evening
looking at Candace's body, arousing her.  And then at the end, he
would... leave her hanging.  The door opened, and Rick choked on his
breath in spite of himself.  God, she was hot.
	Candace seemed to have taken a quantum leap in her choice of
clothing.  She wore a black stretch dress that hugged every curve of
her body, stopping several inches above the knee and leaving her arms
bare.  Her legs were wrapped in black stockings and balanced on a pair
of four-inch black spiked heels.  Her hair was standing out at much
more than its normal volume; clearly she had teased it out with some
mousse.  Faint traces of eyeshadow and mascara graced her face, and
her lips shone with a shiny, bright red lip gloss.  Not bad, Rick
thought.  He hadn't expected her to go this far quite yet.  "You look
incredible."
	She blushed, and Rick thought he saw a triumphant grin flash
across her face.  "Thank you."
	Rick smiled inwardly.  No doubt the bitch thought she was
going to get fucked tonight.  Well, fine with him.  Let her think that.

	Candace could barely contain her excitement as she led Rick up
the stairs to her apartment.  This was it!  She was sure of it.  All
through dinner Rick's eyes had been riveted to her body.  It had been
so exciting, so arousing.  Finally, he was going to be inside her,
filling her pussy.
	She giggled at that.  She'd never considered using the word
"pussy" before, thinking of it as a word used by men to objectify
women.  Well, she thought, what was the matter with being an object
once in awhile if that was what it took to get your pussy filled?  She
tittered again at the thought of the word.
	"You sure seem giggly tonight," Rick commented.
	"Oh, that's just the effect you have on me," she replied,
opening the door to the apartment.  She showed him inside.  Rick
insisted that she relax while he went into the kitchen to make drinks.
How chivalrous of him!
	She seated herself on the couch, quickly pulling out her
makeup mirror and touching up her face.  She knew that her chances of
getting fucked depended heavily on her appearance.  She had to look as
sexy as possible.
	Rick returned with drinks just as she slipped the makeup back
into her purse.  They sat and drank for awhile.  They talked.  After
awhile, Candace got bored.  Her enthusiasm for the conversation
waned.  She wanted Rick to fuck her.  But he just kept talking and
talking and talking...

	Rick watched as Candace's face took on the usual dazed look
that meant she was under the drug.  Once he was sure, he launched
right into the questioning.
	"How are you feeling?"
	"Frustrated."
	"Horny?"
	"Yes.  I want you to make love to me so bad..."
	"But I still won't do it, and that's what's frustrating?"
	"Well... that's part of it."
	"And what else?"
	"Well... I feel like... like a hypocrite."
	Rick paused to chew over her words.  This could be useful, but
he had to be careful.  "Because you're an assistant editor at Woman's
Work?"
	"Yeah..."
	"Because you've talked and written about how important it is
for women to be independent?"
	"Yeah..."
	"And now you find yourself wanting me sexually?"
	She trembled.  "Yeah..."
	"Needing me to make love to you?"
	"Oh, yesss... I need you so baaaad..."  Her eyes closed and
her hand crept toward her crotch.
	Rick squirmed around as his erection fought through his
pants.  No!  He couldn't give in!
	"So... So you feel like you're betraying everything you stand
for?" Rick blurted.
	"Yeah, I feel... like a hypocrite."  Her excitement seemed to
abate somewhat at being reminded of this, and the hand that had been
moving toward her pussy fell off to one side.  Rick was able to calm
himself down, and sighed in relief.
	"It's not just everything you've ever said, is it?  You're
betraying everything you've ever thought."
	"Yeah..."
	Rick made a show of sighing in sympathy.  "Poor Candace.  Boy,
this wouldn't happen to a lot of women."
	"Wha...?"
	"Well, I just mean that some women don't think about these
things.  Some women just don't think much at all, do they?"
	"Well, no..."
	"And those stupid bimbos sure do get a lot of sex, don't
they?"
	"Yeah... they get a lot..."
	This was working just fine.  "Wouldn't it be easier if you
were stupider?  Then you wouldn't have to worry about whether you were
betraying anything."
	"Yeah... Easier..."
	"Well, from now on, I think you're going to find that it hurts
when you try to think about things like that.  When you try to think
about how women should behave, what their role in society should be,
and things like that, you're going to get a headache."
 	"Okay..."
	"It's going to hurt to think about things like that."
	"Okay..."
	"It'll be a whole lot easier not to think."
	"Okay..."
	Rick led her through the usual suggestions -- buy some more
revealing clothes, get some higher heels, wear a little more makeup.
Candace agreed quietly with each of them.  Then he led her through the
forget-this-conversation routine and waited for the drug to wear off.
When she was fully in control of herself again, he made his excuses
and left.  She didn't protest, but he could easily sense her
disappointment.

	Rick was in a dark mood as he parked his car in the executive
lot the next morning.  Despite the fact that he was starting a new job
at about three times his previous salary, he was feeling tense and
frustrated.  It had taken a lot of nerve to walk out on Candace the
night before.  She had looked unbelievably fuckable in the clothes
she'd been wearing.  He could picture her now, lying on her back, the
dress bunched up around her waist and pulled down from the neck to
expose her tits, the black spikes of her heels pointing at the ceiling
as she spread her legs to take his cock...  
	But not yet.  He could push her further, with a little more
work.  But it was so unnerving to have a hot woman like Candace
practically begging for him.  Rick used the elevator ride up to the
marketing floor to compose himself, forcing his face into a smile.  He
should be enjoying the day, after all.
	The door opened, and Rick strolled through the marketing
department to the spacious corner office of the Assistant Director of
Marketing.  As he approached, he caught sight of the secretary's desk
outside the office door, and a young, shapely woman bent over it,
scribbling something on a piece of paper.  Rick paused, curious.
	The long skirt she was wearing hid her legs from view, but the
smooth curve of her behind was clearly visible as she bent over the
desk.  The no-nonsense business blouse obscured, but could not
completely conceal, the fullness of her breasts.  Her lightly curled
black hair hung in front of her shoulder in lustrous tresses, bouncing
ever so slightly as her hand moved across the page in front of her and
hiding her face from Rick's view.  Rick watched in fascination as she
finished writing and stood up, tossing her hair back over her shoulder
and giving him a good look at her face.  It was Jennifer!
	Rick's jaw dropped.  He closed his mouth after a few seconds,
belatedly remembering his earlier hypnotic suggestion to her.  He'd
counted on her losing weight, but he hadn't expected her to come out
looking like this.  The face was more or less the same, although the
weight loss had had some effect - her cheeks were noticeably less
puffy, and the face as a whole was more streamlined.  Sexier.  Rick
had earlier assumed Jennifer to be about thirty or so, but now she
looked younger - twenty-five, tops.  Rick forced the amazement out of
his expression and called to her as he continued walking toward the
desk.
	"Rick!" she exclaimed, rushing toward him and giving him a
friendly, but enthusiastic, hug.  Rick returned the affection.  Her
body, previously almost mushy with excess fat, now had a firm, but
soft feel to it.  Rick felt like he could go on holding her all day.
	Jennifer broke the embrace and stepped back.  "Oh, I'm so
excited we'll be working together.  You should've seen Briggs when he
came out to tell me the news..."  Rick lost track of what she was
saying as he examined her face.  He couldn't get over how beautiful
she was.  How could this gorgeous creature have been hiding in the
overweight secretary he'd known a month earlier?  Or had she been this
attractive all along, and he'd just never noticed?
	"... and so even though this is technically a demotion, since
you're under Briggs, I'd still rather be here, working for you, than
back where I was, having to put up with the old pit bull every day."
	Rick jerked himself back to reality.  "Well, I'm glad to have
you, Jen.  This is going to be a lot of fun."

	They spent the first week getting settled in the new office.
Rick met with most of the senior members of the department, in an
effort to get a feel for what had been going on there under Gadsen,
the former assistant director.  He gathered input on what projects
should be continued, and which ones were best dropped.
	Jennifer, however, was his most useful source of information.
In her previous capacity as Briggs' secretary, she'd been privy to a
lot of department secrets, all of which she shared with Rick.  She was
also quite intelligent.  By the end of the week, Rick found himself
often calling on her for advice or suggestions.  

	Candace banged her fist on the desktop in frustration.  It
just wasn't coming!  For the fifteenth time in as many minutes she
read the meager two lines of text on the monitor.  It was supposed to
be her opinion piece on the effect of recent Supreme Court decisions
on the women's movement.  She'd had over a week to do it, and all
she'd managed was two pathetic lines.
	Her head was pounding.  She'd taken a couple of painkillers
less than an hour ago, but they seemed to have had no effect on the
headache.  She focused her eyes on the monitor again and tried to
think.  Last week, when Carol, the editor-in-chief, had given her the
assignment, she had had so many good ideas about what to write.  For
the last week, however, she'd been unable to remember a single damn
one of them.
	"Candace?"
	She looked up to see Lisa standing in the doorway to her
office.  Lisa was a summer intern, going into her third year of
college in the fall.  Candace found her obnoxious as all hell.  "Yes,
Lisa?" she sighed, leaning back.
	Lisa had some questions about an article she was working on.
Stupid questions, in Candace's opinion.  Questions that any college
junior shouldn't have had to ask.  Candace answered them all,
struggling not to let her irritation show.  The only reason Lisa was
an intern at Woman's Work was that she had grown up next door to
Carol, and Carol positively adored Lisa.  Candace was quite sure that
Carol's opinion would change if she actually had to work with Lisa
directly.  But she didn't.  Candace was stuck with that unfortunate
task.
	Lisa finished her string of questions and picked up her stuff
to leave.  At last, Candace thought.  Just as she was leaving, Lisa
turned to speak to her.  "Candace, I've known Carol all my life, and I
thought I should tell you that if you're going to dress like that,
maybe you should try not to let her see you."
	Candace fumed.  "How I choose to dress is none of your
business, Lisa," she said icily.
	"Sorry," Lisa replied unconvincingly.  "Just trying to help
you out."  She was gone before Candace could reply.
	Candace closed her eyes and counted to ten, thinking of ways
to kill Lisa.  The damnedest thing was that Lisa would almost certainly
get a job at the magazine once she graduated.  All because Carol liked
her.
	Candace adjusted her skirt, pulling it as far down her legs as
it would go.  She'd only started wearing a skirt to the office in the
last week or so.  She knew what her colleagues were likely to think,
but dammit, the leers she got from men on the way to and from work made
her so hot!
	Lisa had been intentionally baiting her.  The girl didn't
understand how pleasant it could be for a woman to have men looking at
her body.  And Candace knew that if she wanted to, Lisa could have
plenty of men staring at her.  The girl just needed a good roll in the
hay.
	Which is exactly what I need, Candace thought to herself.

	Rick arrived at work on Monday of the second week of his new
job expecting to be greeted by a smiling Jennifer, informing him of
the appointments he had that morning.  It was always a pleasure to be
greeted by a bright, cheerful face in the morning.  Thus, he was quite
surprised to find the chair behind Jennifer's desk empty.
	Fifteen minutes later, surprise yielded to panic when it
became apparent that Jennifer's absence was not the result of an
early-morning trip to the restroom.  Rick grabbed the appointment
calendar from her desk and began flipping through it, trying to
discover what he was supposed to be doing this morning.  Regional
sales meeting at nine... and he was supposed to be presenting the
forecast for the next quarter.  Rick glanced at his watch.  Forty-five
minutes to prepare the presentation.  Viewgraphs - where the hell did
she keep the viewgraphs?

	Two hours later, Rick flopped onto the couch in his office,
exhausted.  With a lot of running around, he'd managed to find four of
the six viewgraphs for the presentation, as well as the speaking notes
Jennifer had typed up for him.  The presentation had gone less than
perfectly - Briggs had seemed disappointed in his performance - but it
hadn't feel like a career-killer, either.  He might have to do a
little work on Briggs with the drug to fix the damage, though.
	But where the hell was Jennifer?  It wasn't like her to do
this.  Even if she'd had trouble starting her car, or had gotten
seriously sick over the weekend, she would have at least called,
rather than leaving him in the lurch like this.  Rick knew that he
should be angry about her unexplained absence, but he wasn't.  Rather,
he was consumed by a gnawing worry.  What could have happened to
Jennifer?
	Ten minutes later, the office doors flew open and Jennifer
burst in, her face red and moist.  "Oh, God, Rick, I'm sorry I'm late.
I swear this won't happen again.  I'm so sorry..."  She looked down at
him, on the verge of tears.  Rick stood quickly and put his hands on
her shoulders as Jennifer continued to stammer apologies.  "I should
have at least called, told you I'd be late.  I..."
	Rick shushed her, placing a hand on her mouth.  "It's all
right, Jen.  Why don't you sit down and we'll talk about it?"  Meekly,
Jennifer allowed herself to be lowered to the couch, her face
downcast.  Rick sat opposite her.  "Now, what's the matter?"
	Jennifer looked up at him.  "H-how did the meeting g-go?" she
stammered.
	"Don't worry about the meeting!" Rick exclaimed.  "It was
fine.  What I'm worried about is you!  What's the matter?"
	"Oh, Rick, I..."  She paused, took a deep swallow, and began
again.  "It was this guy I-I've been s-seeing.  Last night was our
th-third date.  We went to dinner, and a m-movie.  You know..."  She
paused again to clear her throat.  Rick fought down a twinge of
jealousy.  He had no right to feel that way, he knew.  "Afterward, we
went back to his p-place, to... you know... I mean, we didn't say that
was what we were going to do, b-but we both knew it.  And I would
have, too, but..."  She turned away, drawing a ragged breath before
continuing.  Rick watched as her chest heaved prettily.
	"... I wanted to talk first, you know, s-so we could g-get
c-comfortable.  B-but he... wouldn't..."  She broke off again and
began crying.  Rick leaned over and wrapped his arms around her,
hugging her protectively, patting the back of her head.  "It was
s-scary..." she sobbed.  "I ran outside..."  Rick squeezed her
tightly, boiling with anger.  How dare that bastard try that with his
Jennifer.
	His Jennifer.  Rick had never felt so possessive towards her
before.  So protective.  He wanted to hold her, shield her from all
the bad things the world could do to such a beautiful creature.  Rick
released his embrace and leaned back, looking her in the eyes.  They
sat like for a moment, silent except for Jennifer's soft crying.
	"I d-don't want to do it like that," Jennifer said between
sobs, looking into Rick's eyes.  "I w-want it to be with s-someone I
can talk t-to, someone I c-can t-tell all my..."  She stopped speaking
and looked away, embarrassed.
	"Someone like me, you mean?" Rick said gently.
	"I-I'm sorry, Rick.  We've been through this before.  I know
you're n-not..."
	Rick placed a hand on her cheek and gently turned her face
back toward him.  She looked at him, her big brown eyes wide open.
At that moment she was the most gorgeous creature Rick had ever seen.
"There's nothing to be sorry about," he whispered, leaning forward.
	"Oh, Rick..."  Her lips were soft and wet on his.  They kissed
passionately, tongues dancing in the dark wetness.  Jennifer gripped
Rick's shoulders, pulling his body tightly against hers.  After an
eternity, they broke apart, gazing into each other's eyes.  Then they
kissed again.
	Rick gently reached downward to cup her breast.  Jennifer's
hands responded by running from Rick's shoulders down his flanks,
gripping his hips and pulling his pelvis to meet hers.  Their lips
parted, and Jennifer moaned softly.  Rick nuzzled the smooth curve
where her neck met her shoulder.  "Rick... I need you... take me." she
moaned.  Her pelvis ground against his as though punctuating her
words.
	Rick paused, taken aback.  "Here?"
	"Please... I've never felt like this before...  please..."
Her moan increased in volume.  Rick silenced her with his lips.  He
was worried about someone hearing them.  And the office doors were
unlocked!
	Jennifer's crotch rubbed against his once again, fueling the
fire blazing in him.  "Hurry..." she moaned.  Rick fumbled with his
belt buckle, working desperately to free his cock.  Jennifer's legs
swung up off the couch, encircling his waist, trying to pull him into
her.  Her hands dropped to her waist, pulling up the dark businesslike
skirt she wore.  "Riiiick... do it..."
	Rick succeeded in unzipping his fly and pulling his pants
down.  His manhood sprung free, erect and ready.  "Hurrryyyy..."
Jennifer moaned.  Needing no further encouragement, Rick pushed
Jennifer's white cotton panties aside and thrust into the moistness
between her legs.  Jennifer groaned loudly at his entry.
	The wetness inside her gripped him tightly, squeezing him and
bringing pleasure he'd never dreamt of.  She rocked against his hips,
trying to draw him deeper as her mouth nibbled hungrily at his neck.
Rick groaned and began to respond, taking soft, slow strokes.
	The made love tenderly at first, savoring the contact, the
communion between them.  Soon, though, Jennifer picked up the pace,
her insistent humping bringing Rick to ever higher levels of pleasure.
Her lips roamed all over his face and neck, occasionally emitting a
soft moan as he cupped her breast or tweaked an erect nipple.
	Their lovemaking built to a powerful crescendo, Jennifer
gripping Rick's shoulders tightly, her back arched, head thrown back as
her womanhood clenched him tightly.  Rick came powerfully, emptying
himself in fierce spurts.  As their simultaneous orgasms ebbed, the two
lovers relaxed, nestled comfortably in each other's arms on the couch.
Rick shrank and withdrew from an exhausted Jennifer.
	Jennifer sighed contentedly.  "God, that was unbelievable."
	"You were wonderful, too," Rick responded.
	"I had forgotten what it was like.  I... I mean, I haven't
made love to a man since... since high school."  Her breathing began
to shake.  "After that I..." she paused for a moment, an almost
stricken look crossing her face.  "Well, after awhile, I started
eating... a lot..."
	"Shhhh..." Rick soothed.
	But Jennifer continued.  "It's only been since I g-got back in
shape that men have even started l-looking at me again.  I... always
felt so... ugly..."  She looked as though she was on the verge of
crying again.
	"You've always been beautiful where it counts," Rick told her.
"I'm sorry I was too stupid to see that before now."
	She looked up at him, tears falling down her face.  "Oh,
Rick..."  She kissed him and closed her eyes, resting her head softly
on his chest.

	Jennifer used Rick's washroom to fix up her appearance,
redoing her makeup and straightening her hair and clothes.  The rest
of the day flew by as they struggled to make up for lost time.
Jennifer went about her work with a zest that was unusual even for
her, with a bright sparkle in her eye and a spring in her step.
Whenever she was around Rick, she looked at him with almost puppylike
adoration, like a teenage girl suffering her first crush.
	Rick told her to leave at the usual time, despite her late
arrival in the morning, but she insisted on working late to make up
for lost time.  She came into his office to give him a deep, sensual
kiss before he left.  "See you tomorrow," he told her.  She grinned
happily.
	Rick took Candace out that evening, feeling guilty about what
he'd done with Jennifer, yet charged with sexual energy.  Candace had
gone to the greatest length yet to get what she wanted from him.  Her
hair, loosely curled, fell across bare shoulders, just touching the
low-cut shoulderless stretch top.  Being several sizes too small, the
top pushed her breasts up into their fullest possible appearance.  The
top ended just below her breasts, leaving her midriff bare above the
tight, ass-hugging skirt.  Her legs were wrapped in black stockings,
and her feet fit comfortably into a pair of shiny black stiletto
heels.  Only the fact that her makeup was well within the bounds of
social acceptability kept her from looking like a hooker.  As it was,
though, she looked quite the slut.  The college boys at the table next
to them at dinner couldn't keep their eyes off her.
	Rick had no trouble letting his eyes wander all over her body.
Candace's excitement at this was obvious; several times she let out
low, barely audible moans.  Rick pretended not to notice, although he
was paying very close attention to her reactions.  
	He found her conversation to be somewhat limited.  Simpler.
Several times she'd seemed to be thinking of something to say, only to
wince slightly and remain silent.  Those things she did say seemed
noticeably less insightful than was her usual.  Clearly Rick's
suggestion about thinking was having the desired effect.  Rick
welcomed the opportunity to talk about whatever he wanted, rather than
having to listen to her yammering about women's this and women's that.
	On the drive home, Candace fell into a suggestible state,
thanks to the drug Rick had slipped into her drink.  Once he was
satisfied that she was safely under the drug's influence, he started
questioning her.  "Candace, on the nights when I come up and visit you
in your apartment, what do you after I leave?"
	"I masturbate, Rick."
	Just as he had suspected.  "I see.  And do you come when you
masturbate?"
	"Every time."  Her body shuddered slightly, and she closed her
eyes.
	"And what do you think of when you masturbate?"  He already
knew the answer to this one.
	"You, Rick.  I think of you making love to me.  I think of you
coming inside me."
	Rick smiled.  Quite the dirty talker she'd become.  Under
hypnosis, anyway, he reminded himself.  Still, he felt his cock
swelling.  "You think of me as a lover, don't you?"
	"Yes, Rick.  I want you to be my lover."  She still gazed
straight ahead, as though talking to herself, but she smiled as she
spoke those words, and color rushed to her cheeks.
	"But you're getting frustrated, aren't you?"
	"Yes."
	"Why?"
	"Because you won't do it.  I've been trying so hard to make
you want to do it.  I've put on makeup, worn these skimpy dresses,
bought jewelry... but it doesn't seem to make any difference."  She
was clearly unhappy.
	"You're having a hard time figuring out what to do."
	"Yes."
	"It would probably be easier if I just told you what to do,
wouldn't it?"
	A thoughtful look crossed her face.  "Yes... yes, it would."
	"Then you wouldn't have to worry about whether you were doing
the right thing.  You could just do what I told you to do, and not
have to think about it.  It'd be so much easier, and so much less
stressful."
	"Yes... it would.  You're right.  It's so frustrating."
	Careful now, Rick thought.  This was going to be tricky.  "And
don't men like to be in control?"
	Candace seemed to shudder slightly before responding.  "Yes,
they do."
	"And I'd probably be more interested in having sex with you if
I was in control, right?"
	There was a pause of several seconds before Candace responded,
"Yes."  Clearly she was having trouble digesting the concept of being
under a man's control.  But it seemed to be working.
	"So why don't you just do whatever I tell you from now on?"
	"O-okay," she responded nervously.  Then, with more
enthusiasm, "I guess that's the best way to get you to make love to me."
	"Good girl," Rick responded, patting her on the knee.

	They returned to Candace's apartment for the usual drinks and
foreplay.  After several minutes of necking and heavy petting, Rick
excused himself to use the bathroom.  Candace let him go, watching him
get up with a sort of wistful longing in her eyes.
	Rick returned and sat on the couch next to her.  Candace was
looking at him with her usual puppy-dog adoration, but also with a
certain... attentiveness, perhaps?  Rick decided to test the waters.
"Take off your top," he said.
	"Sure."  Candace smiled and raised her arms over her head,
pulling off the skimpy, shoulderless top she had been wearing.  She
put it in her lap, leaving her breasts fully exposed.  Rick had never
seen them before.  The were smallish, but very firm, the nipples
sticking out proudly.  She was clearly excited.  Rick reached out and
gently brushed one.  Candace moaned softly, closing her eyes.  
	Rick decided to try a little experiment.  He leaned back and
spoke softly.  "Keep your eyes closed and play with your nipples."
	"Yes, Rick," Candace purred.  Eyes still closed, she leaned
back and raised her fingers to her tits.  Gently she began to rub
them, slowly at first, and then a bit faster.  Her left hand grasped
the nipple it was rubbing and gently began rolling it between thumb
and forefinger.  
	Rick felt his cock hardening at the sight of Candace playing
with her nubile body.  He struggled to keep the excited quiver out of
his voice.  "Take off your skirt."
	"Yes..." Candace groaned.  Her hands left her breasts and went
to her hip to unbutton the tight skirt.  She slid the skirt down over
her stocking-clad legs and spiked heels.  Rick gazed at her crotch,
his eyes drinking in the sight of her soft brown bush.  He swallowed
hard and forced his voice to remain steady.  "Spread your legs," he
commanded in a guttural voice, "wide."
	Candace sighed and let one leg slide off the couch onto the
floor while the other lifted to rest on the back of the couch.  And
there it was: Candace's pussy.  The goal Rick had been striving for
for months and months.  Her clitoris stood erect and begging for
attention above the soft folds of her cunt, moist with pussy juice.
Candace had subconsciously begun to thrust her hips ever so slightly
back and forth, as though fucking an imaginary cock.
	Here before him lay the woman of his dreams.  Candace
Cunningham, assistant editor of Woman's Work, who just a few short
months earlier had been stringing him along, now lay in front of him
like a cheap hooker, legs spread, eyes closed, breathing heavily.  Her
mouth was the only part of her body that wasn't begging him to fuck
her.
	Breathless with anticipation, Rick lifted himself off the
couch and unzipped his jeans, pushing them down to his knees.  He
positioned himself over Candace, placing his cockhead at the entrance
to her steaming wet pussy.  He inhaled the musky odor of her body...
	... and was suddenly paralyzed with guilt.  He couldn't do
this!
	He sat down again, pecker still at attention, and looked at
Candace.  Her eyes were still closed; she was unaware of how close
she'd come to getting what she'd deserved for so long, and what Rick
had recently brought her to desire: a good fucking.  But Rick found
that he couldn't do it.  It wasn't out of any regard for Candace;
Rick was perfectly content to use the bitch however he wanted.  He
didn't care about Candace.
	But he did care about Jennifer.  Sweet, innocent Jennifer.
They'd made love just once, just that morning in his office, but Rick
already felt something for her that he'd never felt in all the months
he'd been with Candace.  Jennifer thought he was the greatest person
in the world.  He'd seen it in her eyes.  He couldn't fuck Candace as
long as he had feelings for Jennifer.
	But he had to do something!  He'd go crazy if he didn't come
tonight.  He looked back at Candace.  Her hands had returned to her
tits, playing with the nipples again.  Well, he didn't have to fuck
her per se...
	"Open your eyes," he commanded.  Candace obeyed.  Her eyes
gravitated to his swollen cock standing rigidly upward from his lap.
Her gaze remained glued to it as Rick lifted himself up and positioned
his cock over her snatch, the purple head just a few inches above her
bush.  
	"Put your hand around it."  Candace remained mute as one hand
left a breast and wrapped itself around his shaft.  "Stroke it."  Eyes
wide in wonder, she began to gently move her hand up and down his
cock.  Rick shuddered in pleasure.  "Take your other hand and play
with yourself, the way you do when you're alone."  Candace lifted the
other hand from her chest and moved it to her swollen clit, which she
immediately began to rub furiously.
	Rick watched as Candace's breathing quickened and the moans
coming from her grew louder and louder.  "Mmmm... Oh, yes... Oh..."
His own orgasm approaching fast, Rick began thrusting his cock back
and forth into Candace's hand.  Her eyes remained glued to his cock
as she jacked it off faster and faster.
	They climaxed almost simultaneously.  Candace began to moan
loudly as Rick's cock throbbed in her hand.  "Oh, yes, yes!  Oh, God,
yes!"  Her moaning reached a crescendo as the first wads of jism flew
from Rick's cock, splashing onto her stomach.  "Oh, yes, Rick... Rick!
Riiiiiick!"  Her eyes watched in fascination as Rick's cock continued
to spurt jism into her bush.  Rick closed his eyes, savoring the feel
of her hand on his cock as their orgasms subsided.
	Rick looked down at Candace, her legs still spread, her
stomach wet with his spunk.  He knew even though they'd both orgasmed,
she would still be unsatisfied.  She still needed a cock in her
pussy.  Rick grinned inwardly at the thought.
	"I'd better go," he said, lifting his jeans up and
refastening them about his waist.
	Candace seemed dazed.  "Okay..." she said blearily.
	"I'll call you tomorrow," Rick called over his shoulder as he
walked to the door.  He paused at the door to look back.  Candace's
eyes were once again closed, and her hand had returned to her crotch
as she masturbated herself toward another orgasm.  The come on her
stomach sparkled in the light.  Rick smiled.  Little bitch couldn't
get enough, could she?
	Rick turned and left, whistling contentedly to himself.

	"...so I told Donna to just make a number up.  That's what I
always did, and the old bastard never checked up on it."  Rick
laughed, almost choking on his drink, as he listened to Jennifer's
story.  "She's actually doing very well.  Hell, at the end of my first
week working for Briggs, I don't think I was doing half as well as she
is now."
	"But she has you to show her the ropes," Rick pointed out,
stabbing a stray tomato that had fallen out of his sandwich.  They
were eating lunch together at a local deli.  "You had to start cold."
	"True," Jennifer replied.  "And Briggs isn't all that bad as a
boss.  Sure, he's got his foibles, but once you get used to him, he's
pretty decent.  At least he doesn't take sexual advantage of his
secretaries, unlike _some_ executives I know," she added playfully.
	"Last I checked," Rick commented, "_you_ were the one taking
advantage of _me_."
	Jennifer's carnal appetite, whetted by their lovemaking Monday
morning, had proven voracious.  Every morning that week, Jennifer had
taken advantage of some lull or other in Rick's schedule to enter his
office and have sex.  Tuesday morning, Rick had been somewhat
reluctant to go at it at 9:15 a.m., telling Jennifer that he'd prefer
to wait until later in the day.  Jennifer, however, was not so easily
dissuaded, and for someone who claimed to have been celibate for most
of a decade, her powers of sexual persuasion were quite formidable.
Rick wound up taking her on the top of his desk, reports and memos
swept to the floor to make room for Jennifer's back.  Thereafter,
Jennifer pretty much got to have sex whenever she wanted.  The
whirlwind pace kept Rick quite satisfied.  So satisfied that he was
having trouble staying interested in Candace.  He pushed that thought
out of his mind.  He didn't like thinking about Candace when he was
with Jennifer.
	"Well, I just have to give you your ride early in the morning
so you don't spend the rest of the day harassing me," Jennifer
retorted, a grin on her face.
	"Touche," Rick responded, rising from his seat.  "If you'll
excuse me a moment..."
	"Hurry back," Jennifer called after him as he walked across
the crowded deli to the restroom.

	Rick walked out of the restroom five minutes later and began
the long, twisting walk through the dining room back to the table.
Halfway across, he caught sight of Jennifer through the milling crowd.
She had an odd look about her, though, gazing off into one corner of
the restaurant.  Rick followed her eyes to a table in the corner,
where a waitress was taking orders from a pair of men.  Rick felt a
slight twinge of jealousy.  The men were both young, looking to be in
their early twenties, and reasonably attractive, at least as well as
Rick could judge.  He could hardly blame Jennifer for looking.
	As Rick watched, the waitress finished talking to the men and
walked away.  Rick continued his journey back to the table, but
stopped short as he looked at Jennifer again.  Here eyes were slowly
tracking across the room.  She wasn't looking at the men.  She was
looking at the waitress.
	Rick froze, looking at Jennifer.  Her look was one of
fascination, eyes wide, a slight smile on her face.  The waitress,
Rick thought, was quite cute - a pert, blue-eyed blonde with generous
hips and an ample bosom.  She walked happily across the restaurant,
unaware of the attention she was receiving.  She passed through the
swinging doors to the kitchen and Rick looked back at Jennifer.  She
was still gazing toward the doors.  Odd.
	Rick threaded through the crowd back to the table.  "You all
right?"
	Jennifer started.  "Huh?  Oh, yeah... I'm fine."  She turned
her attention back to her meal, but not before Rick noticed a faint
flush creeping up her face.  Very odd.

	Candace led Rick into her bedroom and turned to await his
instructions.  Tonight would be the night, she hoped.  Please, please,
let tonight be the night.  She needed Rick to fuck her so badly.
	Fuck.  Now there was a word she'd never liked, and never
thought she'd ever use, even in her own head.  It was the word men
used to twist sex from a consensual act between two people into an act
of male dominance.  Two people could have sex, or make love, but only
a man could fuck a woman.  But now, she wanted to be dominated.  She
was willing to do anything to get her pussy fucked by Rick's hard
cock.
	Those were two more words she'd never thought she'd use.  But
on the ride home that evening, it had occurred to her to use those
words, even in her own thoughts.  After all, men used those words all
the time, and if she wanted Rick to fuck her, it might help to start
using them herself.  Even using them in her own thoughts might help
her to act like the subservient sex object that men wanted her to be.
That Rick wanted her to be.
	Every night for the last two weeks, ever since that first time
she'd touched his cock, Rick had come over to her apartment
and... Well, Rick hadn't fucked her yet, had he?  Somehow she was
always expecting it, but it never came.  Invariably, she'd wind up
jacking Rick off and fingering herself.  It was pleasurable, but she
wasn't getting fucked, dammit!  She looked at Rick, mentally begging
him to fuck her.
	Rick sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her.  "On your
knees," he commanded tersely.
	"Yes, master," Candace responded.  This was another trick
she'd thought up on the ride home.  Calling Rick "master" would
hopefully make her seem more docile, more willing to let him do
whatever he wanted.  That was what men wanted, after all.  And as with
the other concepts, it was important for her to use them in her own
mind as well as when she spoke.  Candace dropped to her knees in front
of her master, looking up at him expectantly.  
	"Take out my cock, bitch," Rick muttered.  Candace almost
swooned at his use of that word.  Three months ago, she would have
been horrified to be called a bitch, but now she took it as a sign
that Rick was going to fuck her.  She wanted him to think of her as
his bitch, his slut, his fuck-toy.  She had mentally resolved in the
car to think of herself as Rick's personal slut.  
	Why did all her best ideas come to her when she was in the car
with Rick on the way back to her apartment?  Maybe it was just a good
time to think.  She had come up with a lot of good ideas while Rick
had just blabbed on and on.  She hated going out with him now, because
all she could think about when they went out to dinner or a movie was
when he was going to fuck her pussy with his hard cock.  I love him
dearly, she thought, but I wish he'd stop talking so much and just
fuck me!
	Returning from her reverie, Candace reached up to unfasten
Rick's belt and unzip his pants.  His stiff cock sprang into view,
causing Candace to gasp in wonder.  She'd seen it and touched it so
many times, but each time she saw it she was struck again by its
beauty.  A thick pole of flesh capped by a purple bulb, its surface
crisscrossed by thick red veins.  
	She felt the inside of her pussy aching with desire.  She
needed it inside her so badly.  She needed to be penetrated.  Please,
master, she pleaded mentally, fuck me!  Fuck your bitch!  As hard as
you want.  I don't care how much it hurts.  Use me like a rag doll.
	But she remained silent, looking up at Rick, who smiled down
at her.  "Suck it, slut."
	Her cunt felt warm at that word.  Nervous, but with a growing
confidence that she was close to getting fucked, Candace leaned
forward to brush the head of his cock with her lips.  She knew why men
liked having a bitch suck their cocks.  It was a way for them to
experience the pleasure of fucking while denying the bitch the
pleasure of being fucked.  For a bitch to suck a man's cock was the
ultimate act of self-degradation, an admission that her own pleasure
was unimportant, that she was just a toy for him to do with as he
pleased.
	Candace eagerly dove on her master's cock, taking first the
swollen purple head, then several inches of the rigid shaft into her
throat.  She had thought about how best to do this on the drive home,
and needed no time to experiment.  She swiftly began to pump her head
up and down on his cock, using her tongue to caress the underside of
the shaft.  She moved one hand up to grip the base.
	Rick groaned loudly.  "That's it, bitch."  Candace thrilled
again and redoubled her efforts.  "Play with yourself, slut," he
commanded.  Candace eagerly moved her hand under the hem of her skirt
and began rubbing her swollen clitoris in time with the movements of
her head.  She felt Rick's hands in her hair, guiding her head up and
down.  "You're quite the little cocksucker, aren't you?" The derisive
tone of Rick's question thrilled her.  Yes, she wanted to scream,
treat me like a piece of meat.  Fuck me!
	Candace approached orgasm as Rick gently pushed her head off
his cock.  Rick stood up, towering over her.  This is it, she thought,
he's going to fuck me!  Please, please, please!  She looked up at him
and ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip in a gesture
calculated to get her pussy filled.
	Rick smiled back, but didn't join her on the floor.  Rather,
he positioned himself so that his cock, with her hand still holding it
at the base, was directly above her upturned face.  "Jack me off,
slut," Rick commanded.
	Candace eagerly jerked her hand up and down on her master's
cock, just as she had so many times in the last two weeks.  With her
other hand, she continued to rub her swollen clit.  "Close your eyes,
bitch," Rick commanded as she felt his cock start to throb in her
hand.  His hands grasped the sides of her head.
	She felt her master's cock pulse mightily in her hand,
followed an instant later by a splash of wetness on her cheek.  Her
instinct was to flinch, to turn away, but Rick's hands held her firmly
in place.  His cock throbbed again, and she felt another splash on her
forehead.  She knew what was happening.  Rick was ejaculating on her
face... Not ejaculating!  Rick was coming on her face.  His
semen... No, no, you're a slut, dammit! Think like a bitch in heat!
His jism, his spunk, was covering her face, marking her as his bitch,
his possession.  That was all she wanted to be.  Soon he would fuck
her.
	The thought sent her sex-starved cunt over the edge.  Her
orgasm racked her as Rick's jism continued to dribble onto her face.
She groaned in pleasure and fell to the floor, writhing in ecstasy as
the flow of cum subsided, her hands working furiously at her clit.
Screaming in pleasure, she climaxed, all the muscles in her body
tensing at once as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

	Rick watched as Candace spasmed on the floor in front of him.
God, he'd never expected that.  The slut sure got off on getting her
face plastered.  The old Candace, the militant feminist, had been
sorely in need of a good facial.  It sure was exciting to see the
bitch get what she deserved.
	But there were problems coming.  Rick couldn't continue to see
Candace much longer.  It was already getting difficult to keep
Jennifer from finding out.  Jennifer, of course, would never suspect
Rick was getting a blowjob every evening from a slut like Candace, but
sooner or later she would find out.  And that would be trouble.
	More importantly, though, Rick felt like a real shithead doing
that to Jennifer.  He knew how strongly she felt about him.  He was
pretty sure she loved him, and he was beginning to suspect that he was
in love with her, too.  And he couldn't do that to someone he loved.
	He looked down at the bimbo on the floor, her cum-covered body
still shuddering as her orgasm subsided.  She'd sucked him off, taken
his jism on her face, and fingered herself to orgasm, all without even
taking her clothes off.  What a slut.
	Candace's breathing slowed to almost a normal rate, and she
opened her eyes, looking up at him.  There was still a look of
pleading in her eyes.  The bitch wanted to be fucked.  Too bad, Rick
thought.  "Go into the bathroom and clean yourself up, slut."
	"Yes, master," Candace replied meekly.  She struggled to her
feet and staggered into the bathroom, the spiked heels making it
difficult for her to walk.  Rick noticed that her ass and legs seemed
quite a bit less skinny these days.  Was she working out?
	How could he possibly give this up?  Every night for the past
two weeks, he'd come over to Candace's apartment to use her.  He
didn't even have to bother with taking her out to dinner anymore
unless he was planning to "teach" her something new.
	The first night he'd come over unannounced, she hadn't been
wearing makeup and had been hanging around the house in jeans and a
T-shirt.  Rick had used her, of course, but dropped a lot of obvious
hints that he was displeased with her appearance.  The next night he
had shown up to find the bitch waiting in a tight-fitting black mesh
bodysuit, wearing a pair of shiny black slut-pumps, matching pink
lipstick and nail polish, silvery hoop earrings four inches in
diameter, her hair curled into lustrous tresses.  Clearly, the slut
had learned a new lesson - to always be ready for use by her
master. (Although it hadn't been until tonight that she'd actually
used the word "master".)
	Rick sighed.  He had to face the fact that he was addicted to
Candace.  Not that sex with Jennifer wasn't great; it was.  Jennifer
had become quite skilled in any number of things in the last few
weeks, and she was always eager to learn new techniques.  She and Rick
had brought each other to so many mind-blowing orgasms that Rick had
lost count.  But Jennifer was a lover, a woman.  Only one side of Rick
was satisfied with a woman.  The other side needed a bitch.
	What the hell was he going to do?  He sure as hell had to do
something.  And he had to do it tonight.  Rick looked around the room
desperately.  A dresser, a closet, a desk with some papers strewn on
it, a mirror.  No help there.
	Candace strode out of the bathroom again.  Her face was wiped
clean of the come that had covered it minutes earlier, and her makeup
had been reapplied.  Rick's cock stirred at the thought of the slut
reapplying her makeup between uses.  "Go get a glass of water and
bring it here, bitch," Rick ordered.
	"Yes, master," Candace responded, turning and walking out of
the room.  She returned a minute later with a class full of water,
which she held out to him, assuming he wanted to drink it.
	Rick pulled the vial of drug out of his pocket and opened it,
carefully squeezing five drops into the water.  Candace watched
without comment.  When he had finished, Rick recapped the vial and
replaced it in his pocket.  "Drink it, slut," he ordered.
	Candace immediately lifted the glass to her lips and began to
drink.  Rick watched her throat flex as she sucked down swallow after
swallow of the water.  It was a testament to how completely she had
surrendered her will that she didn't think to even question what he
was doing.  Truly she was his to do with as he pleased, to use and
abuse.
	Candace finished the glass and lowered it, looking at him
expectantly.  For a few seconds they just stood there, staring at each
other.  Rick saw in Candace's face a challenge - a challenge to
determine what he was going to do.  For the first time since he'd
started using the drug, Candace's gaze made him uncomfortable.  He
knew he had a decision to make.  
	After a long pause, Rick began to speak.


ENDING ONE
==========

	"Lie down on the bed, bitch."
	Candace complied quickly, positioning herself faceup on the
bed.  Her legs were spread slightly, stretching the black leather
miniskirt taut and almost allowing a glimpse of her pussy.  Rick would
soon be getting more than a glimpse.
	Rick shrugged off his clothes and climbed up onto the bed,
standing on his knees next to Candace's supine form.  His cock hung
half-erect, pointing at Candace.  "Blow me, bitch."
	Candace squirmed around to a position in front of Rick and
bent her head to his member.  Wrapping one hand around the base of his
cock, she began to suck eagerly, pumping her head up and down his
shaft.  Rick's cock swelled again as he received the second blowjob of
the night from the slut.  Already she was improving.  He placed his
hands on the sides of her head, modulating her pace.  It felt so
good.  
	He was tempted to come in her mouth, to shoot his sperm down
her throat.  She wouldn't enjoy it, but she'd accept it.  But he
couldn't do that now.  There was something else he had to do.  Just
this once.  And then never again.  Never.
	Rick gently pushed Candace's head off his cock.  "Lie down,
bitch," he growled.  Candace quickly flopped down on her back,
spreading her legs as far as the tight skirt would allow.  She looked
up with her doe-like eyes, gazing eagerly at him.  She was finally
going to get it.
	"Lift your skirt, slut," Rick commanded.  Candace eagerly
reached down, grabbing a fist full of leather and yanking upwards.
The skirt bunched around her waist, leaving her glistening wet pussy
exposed.  Her breathing was rapid now as she continued to stare raptly
at Rick.
	Rick lifted her legs, still clad in stockings and spiked heels
and placed them over his shoulders.  He positioned his swollen purple
cockhead at the entrance to her fuck tunnel and met her gaze.  "Do you
want to get fucked, bitch?"
	Candace's head nodded slowly even before she started to
speak.  "Yes, master," she whispered.
	"Beg me to fuck your worthless cunt."
	Candace paused for a second, then began to squeal.  "Please,
master, fuck me, fuck me with your hard cock."
	"You'll have to do better than that."
	Candace's voice rose in pitch, her desperation showing.
"Pleeeease, master.  I'm your cheap little slut, begging you to fuck
her juicy cunt with your long, hard cock!  Please, master, split your
whore in two with your stiff prick and come inside her!"  Her hips
were making jerking motions toward his cock, as though trying to grab
it and pull it inside.  "Please, use your fuck-hungry bitch to sheath
your throbbing tool!  Use me like a rag doll and spurt your hot jism
all over my slutty face!  Just fuck meeeeeee!"
	Rick shoved his cock deep inside Candace's sopping wet snatch.
Candace screamed in ecstasy, The feeling was like nothing he'd ever
experienced.  She was so tight! He paused for a moment, his cock
embedded in the slut's steaming pussy, savoring the pressure on his
shaft.  Candace's scream faded, to be replaced by a shallow series of
audible pants.  "Keep talking, bitch!" Rick admonished.
	"Oh, yes, master," she groaned, "fuck your dirty little slut!
Fill up her wet pussy with your hot jism!"  Rick withdrew his cock
until only the head was engulfed in the folds of Candace's cunt, then
thrust it back in again to the hilt, eliciting another shriek of
pleasure from Candace.  Rick paced himself, trying to keep things slow
to get the most enjoyment possible from this, since he wasn't going to
do this again.  Ever.

	Candace squealed rhythmically as Rick pistoned his cock in and
out of her pussy.  At last, she was getting fucked! It had taken him
so long!
	The pleasure was like nothing she had ever felt before.  She
savored each thrust, each new penetration of the throbbing member that
threatened to split her open.  Each time Rick withdrew his cock, she
felt like crying in despair, and each time he shoved his manhood deep
inside her again she felt happier than she'd ever felt before in her
life.  And each time, in the instant of complete penetration, when
Rick's cock completely filled her, she regretted each and every man
she'd ever brushed off in her life.  How many chances to get fucked
had she let go to waste?  How many possible masters had she passed up?
	Her orgasm built deep within her, an unstoppable tidal wave of
pleasure.  Rick was fucking her faster now, harder, and she could feel
his cock throbbing mightily within her.  He had pulled the fabric of
her halter top down off her breasts and his hands were now mauling the
soft, tender flesh there as he fucked her more and more urgently, but
Candace scarcely noticed. Her attention was focused on the cock
filling her cunt.
	Suddenly the dam broke; she felt Rick's cock squirt a load of
jism into the deepest recesses of her cunt.  The feeling of her master
coming deep inside her was too much.  Candace climaxed, shrieking in
ecstasy as Rick continued to spurt his come into her pussy.  The come
filled her cunt and began to overflow; she felt it dripping out of her
pussy around Rick's cock, which continued to squirt come.
	At last her orgasm subsided, and Candace's body allowed itself
to relax.  She could feel the come dripping from her cunt around
Rick's still-engorged cock.  It was all perfect.
	Her master had fucked her.

	Rick watched as Candace's eyes glazed over.  The drug hadn't
taken effect yet; this was just a post-fucking stupor.  He gently
removed his cock from her sopping wet cunt, allowing rivulets of come
to stream out after it, pooling on the bed.  "Stay here," he ordered.
	"Yes, master," came the weak reply.
	Rick took a shower while waiting for the drug to take effect,
and then dressed himself, whistling happily all the while.  He went
back into the bedroom to find Candace still lying where he'd left her,
skirt bunched up around the waist, jism dripping from her cunt.  Rick
sat down beside her.
	"Candace?"
	"Hmmmm?"  She was definitely under the effect of the drug.
	"What just happened?"
	"I got fucked."
	"Did you enjoy it?"
	A smile crept slowly across her face.  "Yes, master, I enjoyed
it very much."
	"And you want to get fucked again, don't you?"
	"Ohhhhh, yessssss..." she groaned.  A hand drifted down
absently to play with her clit.
	"But you don't know if I'm good at it or not, do you?"
	"You... were... real good..."
	"But maybe another man could fuck you better than I did."
	"Um... Maybe..."
	"So really, you'd be better off getting fucked by someone else
next time, wouldn't you?"
	This took awhile to sink in.  "G... Guess so..."
	"But then, you won't know if he's the best, either.  So you'd
want to get fucked by someone else after that."
	"Uh... yeah..."
	"What you really need, Candace, is to get fucked by a whole
lot of different men."
	"Yeah... fucked... lots of men..."
	"In fact, it'd be really convenient if you could get a job
where all you do is get fucked by a lot of men all the time."
	"J-Job... yeah..."
	"Now what kind of job might that be?"

One Year Later
--------------

	Rick fidgeted on the couch, flipping through the channels yet
again, bored out of his skull.  A Friday night and Jennifer was out of
town.  Normally they would have gone out for dinner, or dancing, or
even just stayed home and gone to bed early.  But she was in Phoenix
until tomorrow afternoon.  Thank God at least they still had Saturday
night.
	Jennifer had gotten the Assistant Manager for Procurement
position at about the time they'd gotten married, six months ago.
That had been a big step up for her, and she'd made it entirely on her
own; Rick hadn't used the hypnotic drug on anyone in over a year.
Jennifer had had to pinch-hit for Rick on a major presentation to the
company CEO when Rick had come down with mono and been rushed to the
hospital.  The CEO had been so impressed with the young secretary's
performance he had offered her the vacant procurement position.  It
had meant an end to their daytime sexual escapades in the office, but
they'd dealt with that just fine; they made up for it at night.  And
even having offices on different floors of the building didn't
preclude an occasional fifteen-minute "consultation".
	The downside of Jennifer's new job was that she spent a lot of
time on the road, leaving Rick to fend for himself for a few days.  He
was eagerly anticipating her return tomorrow; he had a welcome planned
that would sweep her off her feet.  And into the sack.
	Rick had to admit there was another downside; their sex had
been missing something since her promotion.  She seemed to still like
it just fine, but Rick missed the idea of fucking his secretary.  Not
that the sex wasn't still great, and not that he regretted Jennifer's
promotion, but there had been something exciting about having sex with
someone who was subordinate to him.  A sense of... what?  Control?
He'd been getting the feeling quite a lot, lately, that he'd once had
something else.  He couldn't quite put his finger on it...
	The phone rang, and Rick picked it up.  Jennifer at the
airport a day early, maybe?
	"I have a collect call from Jennifer Logan.  Will you accept
charges?"
	"Yeah, yeah," Rick replied.  "Jen?"
	"Hi, honey!"
	"Hey!  How's my little noodle doing in Arizona?"
	"Well, that's the bad news, honey.  The supplier is balking at
the contract we negotiated.  They're just stonewalling to get a better
deal, but it looks like it's going to keep me here until Thursday, at
least."
	Rick groaned.  "Dammit.  Well, if that's the way it is."
	"'Fraid so, honey.  Listen, I gotta get back to work here."
	"All right.  Call me later."
	"I won't be free here until midnight, at least.  I'll call you
tomorrow."
	"Okay.  Love you."
	"Love you.  Bye."
	Rick hung up and sighed.  Dammit.  Another five days of being
horny and alone.  He returned to channel-surfing.  Surely in 83
channels there had to be something on.
	"...deny any involvement..."
	"...kiss me, Eric..."
	"...another rebound for..."
	"...YOURS for only twenty-nine..."
	"...you bitch..."
	"...antelope can run at speeds of over..."
	Rick paused.  Bitch.  The word resonated with him.  He flipped
back one channel.  The show was a prime-time soap opera.  The young
man on screen was yelling at a young woman wearing high heels and a
skintight dress.  "You slept with my brother, you slut!"  Rick thought
it odd that he would consider her a slut just for sleeping with
another man.  Hell, in that dress, she looked respectable compared
to... Candace.
	Rick hadn't thought of her in over a year.  Memories suddenly
came flooding back.  Candace walking on six-inch spiked heels, her ass
swaying back and forth inside a black leather skirt...
	Rick tried to push the memories out of his mind.  No, no,
don't think about it.
	Candace running her tongue across a glossy, pink upper lip...
	Rick remembered hypnotizing himself to not think of her.  He
realized his mistake: he'd forgotten that post-hypnotic suggestions
weren't permanent; they weakened over time.
	Candace on her knees, looking up at him as her lips enveloped
his cock...
	Rick was overwhelmed as a year of repressed rememberings
washed over him at once.  He closed his eyes, struggling to regain
control of his head.  But the images wouldn't stop.
	Candace panting and moaning as Rick thrust his cock deep into
her cunt...
	A year of repressed sexual urges came with the memories; Rick
discovered that his cock was straining against his jeans.  He was more
aroused than he had over been in his life.
	Candace thrusting her tits upward as her back arched in a
violent orgasm, her pussy squeezing his cock tightly...
	A phone number jumped unbidden into his head.  In all this
time, he'd never remembered, but neither had he forgotten.
	His mental stability returning, Rick picked up the phone off
the coffee table and dialed the number.  The line rang twice before it
was picked up.  "Starlight Escorts," announced a feminine voice.
	Rick's throat was raw.  "I'd like to see one of your girls
tonight."
	"Certainly, sir.  We'll send our next available girl to you as
soon as..."
	"I mean a specific girl."
	There was a slight pause.  "Who did you have in mind, sir?"
	Rick was silent for a few seconds before he could force it
out.  "Candace."  The first time he'd said that name in a long time.
	There was another pause.  "Sir, she won't be available for two
hours.  If you'd like to..."
	"I'll wait."
	"Very well, sir."  The receptionist took Rick's address,
warned him that Candace might be late, and hung up.  Rick leaned back,
and exhaled deeply.  He was back in control of himself, but he was a
very different man than he'd been five minutes ago.
	The post-hypnotic suggestion he'd given himself had worn thin
over the course of a year.  But what of the suggestions he'd given
Candace?

	"Oh, yeah, honey, that's good.  Do me hard, baby.  Yeah,
that's it."  Candace recited her lines from memory, hoping they would
hurry this jerk to orgasm and get her out of his house.  The white
hair he'd combed over his bald spot was falling off, and Candace found
the whole scene extremely unarousing.
	A year ago, it wouldn't have turned her off, she recalled.  A
year ago, when she'd first started, even this rude geezer would have
been able to send her to a furious climax just by sticking his
wrinkled cock into her cunt.  But after awhile, her sexual ardor had
trailed off.  These days, the occasional young stud could still bring
her to orgasm, but that seemed to happen only once every few days now.
In between, she faked orgasms with her clients and masturbated after
work.
	It looked as though she was going to have to fake one soon.
The geezer had started breathing faster, and picked up the pace of his
humping.  Candace prayed he didn't have a heart attack.  He was so fat
she'd probably never escape.  She tried to hurry his orgasm along by
humping back at him and launching into the series of cries she knew by
memory.  "Nnggh... oh... yes... yes... mmmm... oh, God... this is
incredible... yes... harder... harder...  nngh... mmm... YES! YES!
YES!"
	Candace congratulated herself on a job well done as she felt
the geezer's cock throb pathetically inside her, a sensation rendered
almost undetectable by the condom he wore.  At first she'd resented
having to use a condom, because it interfered with her pleasure.
Recently, though, she'd come to appreciate it, since it kept her from
having to clean up every time.  And most of the time, she wasn't going
to get off anyway, so the condom hardly hurt in that respect.
	The geezer grunted in satisfaction and rolled off of her.
Candace got up and picked her clothes up off the floor.  It was her
usual summer uniform - a lightweight cotton shirt, white, which she
wore unbuttoned and tied in a knot under her breasts, and a pair of
extra-short denim cutoffs with a few tantalizingly placed holes.  A
pair of fire-engine red "fuck-me" pumps completed the ensemble.
	The geezer lifted himself up and watched her as she dressed,
staring unabashedly.  Asshole, Candace thought.  When she'd first
arrived, he'd acted as though she was some sort of upper-crust,
high-society rich girl paying a social call.  He'd done his
pathetically inadequate best to be charming, pretending to be
interested in her as a person.  Now that it was over with, he just
looked at her like she was a piece of meant.  Candace hated the
hypocrisy; at least the honest ones didn't waste all your time
beforehand with drinks and conversation.
	"You know, you're quite a sexy little bitch."
	Candace swooned, almost falling before grabbing the top of the
dresser to steady herself.  She hated the bastard for calling her a
bitch, and she hated herself for enjoying it.  But he hadn't paid yet,
so she had to be nice.  "Thanks, honey.  You're not too bad yourself,"
she said in the sweetest voice she could muster, standing upright.
She liked it better when she got paid up front, but the geezer was a
regular customer of the service, so she had to let him pay
afterwards.
	The transaction was concluded without any further interchange,
thank God, and Candace left the house as quickly as she could,
thinking all the while.  Why the hell did she enjoy being called a
bitch?  Somehow verbal degradation seemed to get her excited.  She was
convinced by now that something traumatic had happened to her a year
ago, something so horrible she was repressing the memories.  After
all, why would a successful reporter for a leading feminist magazine
suddenly quit her job and go to work as a call girl?  
	The work had seemed fascinating at first, but lately she'd
started to lose interest.  She had toyed with the idea of getting out
of the business before, but now she was considering it seriously.
Tomorrow was her day off, and she had an appointment with a therapist.
It was time to sort out her feelings and get some answers.
	She climbed into her car and retrieved the pager from the
glove compartment.  The light was flashing and a new address came up
on the LCD screen.  Last one tonight.  She wiped off her makeup with a
tissue and washed her face with a few handfuls of water from a
thermos.  She always took her makeup off after a job; it was
invariably smeared and needed to be redone.
	She sighed and began to drive.  Maybe today was her lucky day,
and this next one would be under 40.  It would be nice not to have to
frig herself to orgasm tonight.

	Candace pulled up at the address she'd received on her
beeper.  It was a small, modern townhouse in a recently built housing
development.  This was the sort of area that recently married young
couples tended to live in.  Candace tended not to get many calls from
areas like these.  Most of her customers were either older - living in
more expensive houses - or unmarried - living in apartments in the
city.  Chances were it was some horny husband whose wife was out of
town, looking for a quick bite of the forbidden fruit, too stupid to
think about the possible consequences of the neighbors seeing a
scantily clad young woman coming by in the evening.  Oh, well.  Not
her loss.
	Candace examined herself in her makeup mirror, giving her hair
a slight tease.  At her employer's suggestion, she had had it cut to a
sassy shoulder-length style and dyed strawberry blonde when she'd
first started working as a call girl.  Since that time, she had come
to respect the wisdom of that suggestion; her customers seemed crazy
about the look.  Often she styled it so that it curled inward slightly
to touch her cheeks; men seemed to go wild at the feel of her hair
brushing against their balls when she gave head.
	She reapplied her makeup slowly and carefully.  If the
behavior of the fat old bastard she'd just serviced hadn't been enough
motivation to find a new line of work, having to apply her makeup for
the umpteenth time that day certainly was.  A year ago, she'd loved to
paint her face.  There had been something arousing about making
herself look like the complete slut, getting ready to blow the mind of
her next customer.  She'd even reapplied her makeup immediately after
wiping the old stuff off, before driving to her next job, because
she'd enjoyed the feeling of looking like a tramp.  
	She remembered getting pulled over for speeding in her first
week on the job, and how the officer had been so dumbstruck by her
appearance.  It had been on a backwoods road late at night, so she'd
put on her best bimbo-voice and stood in front of the officer, asking
if he couldn't please forgive her for being a naughty girl, such a bad
girl.  She remembered the look on his face as she'd removed his
policeman's cap and put it on her head before kneeling, pulling out
his cock, and giving him one of her masterful blowjobs, occasionally
pausing to remark on how she'd always wanted to get fucked in the
back seat of a police car.  The officer had been willing to oblige, of
course, and had come not once, but twice, once in her pussy and once
on her face.  
	Looking back, it amazed her not so much that she'd done it,
but that she'd enjoyed it so much.  But that had been in the days when
she'd relished the thought of being a slut, a whore.  A bitch.
Hearing the words themselves spoken to her still gave her a certain
thrill.  But she no longer used them in her own mind.  She no longer
aspired to be a slut.  The last time she'd gotten pulled over, she
hadn't even tried to seduce the officer.  Her heart just wasn't in it
anymore.  She had to quit.
	She finished applying her makeup and squared her shoulders.
She was going to get this one over with, and quit.
	She got out of the car and walked to the door, ringing the
bell.  A muffled voice from inside the house yelled, "Come in!"
	Candace opened the door and took a few steps inside.  She
could see parts of a dining room, a kitchen, and a living room from
where she stood.  No one was visible.  "Hello?" she called, "I'm
l

  
Candace