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SHADES sucking deftly his fingers
The strange twisted saga continues with this story...
Story: Shades of Dominance
Patrick awoke suddenly, as the alarm clock went off. Wearily, he
glanced at the illuminated display, halfway considered going back to bed,
but thought better of it. Making his way to the bathroom to shower, he
reflected back on the dream he'd had that night. No, dream was to imprecise
a word. It had been more like a VISION, an inspired work from some unknown
muse. In his head, he saw the blueprints, circuit diagrams, graphs and charts,
all the information needed to construct his new invention. When complete it
would...er...it would. Hmmm, funny, he had no idea exactly WHAT it would
do. Yet the information and instructions were there, clear as day in his
mind, and the overwhelming urge to build it blocked out everything else.
Hurrying down the stairs, Patrick waved to his wife, Ellen. "Sorry,
dear, I'm in a hurry, no time for breakfast this morning!" He gave his frowning
wife of fice years a kiss on the mouth, ruffled her long brown hair, and ran
out the door. "Hmmm...probably should have warned her I'd be working late
as well," he thought after he was on his way to the office. "Oh well, I'll
give her a car from the office on my break." Pulling up to the guardhouse,
he rolled down his window and flashed his TransCorp ID. "Good morning, Ralph,"
he said with his usual smile. "In for another ten hours of scientific labor."
"Good morning, Doctor Sikes," Ralph replied, pressing the button to open
the gate. "Try not to blow us all up, sir!" he said grinning. It was a running
joke between them, and they both laughed good naturedly as Patrick continue on
to his office. Things in the research and development wing were at a temporary
standstill at the moment, following the bizarre case of Dr. Specten. He had worked
with James Specten for more than ten years, and in all that time he had never
once figured the brilliant scientist was also a psychotic serial rapist. When
the police had taken him away, Patrick remembered looking up into his friend
and colleague's face, asking why. Why throw away a promising career and your
freedom for a cheap moment's thrill? He also remembered the doctor's eerie
reply.
' Someday, someday soon, you'll get to see for yourself just what the
whole attraction is, Patrick, my boy. Someday very soon.'
Of course, James Specten was now dead, gone for good. He had been on of the
few to attend the funeral. Aside from a few school chums of his, Specten'd
had no one. No living family. No or kids. Not even a pet. Upon reflection,
Pat thought perhaps that was why he had turned out the way he had. Whenever the
stress of the job began to gnaw at his sanity, Patrick remembered his beautiful
wife and his loving parents, and thanked God that he wasn't James Specten.
The power of suggestion, Patrick thought to himself, as he found himself
standing in front of laboratory fourteen, Dr. Specten's lab. It had been closed,
locked tight with a security code, until the company higher-ups could decide
whether or not to continue the project, and appoint someone to continue his work.
Patrick turned to leave, but found his legs unable...or unwilling, to move. A
moment later, his hands were punching away at the alphanumeric keypad on the
day, entering a rapid series of codes he didn't know. He had just the time to
feel surprise, as his uncontrollably hands opened the now unlocked door, and
his legs carried him inside. This isn't happening! he thought to himself, as
his body strolled around the lab, gathering various materials and components,
as well as a small soldering iron and welding glasses. I must be cracking up!
I should call security and have them haul me away before I go completely off
the deep end! But try as he might, Patrick was unable to control his body as
it went about its task, carefully and methodically creating the device he had
dreamed about the night before.
Several hours went by, and Patrick found it easier to deal with by
concentrating on the task at hand, becoming more and more in touch with
the mysterious entity controlling his movements. Around midnight, Patrick
suddenly snapped awake, having dozed off while his body kept working.
In his hands was the finished product: a small circular band or metal,
flexible, with a thin rubber insulation all around it. The band itself
consisted of many hundreds and hundreds of tiny integrated circuit boards,
interlocked, spanning the entire expanse of the band. The two ends were a
small sophisticated locking mechanism, like the door to a tiny bank vault.
It was just as he had dreamed it would be. But...what was it? And what was
he going to do with it?
Almost before he knew what had happened, he was wearing the device.
Patrick's mischievous hands had placed the band around his neck, touching
the ends together, which instantly linked, closing the circuit and locking
tight with an audible *CLICK*. Realizing what he had done, Patrick scrambled
trying to pull off the band, only to find it permanently attached to his
throat. Pain filled his senses as he felt tiny probes extending from the
back of the device, embedding themselves into his flesh, deeper and deeper,
extending into the nodules of his spine. With a gasp, Patrick's eyes glazed
over, his mouth falling open, as his mind went totally blank.
If someone had been there to see, if perhaps the security cameras had
been active, if perhaps Pat Sikes had been capable of doing more than staring
blindly into space...then someone would have seen the most peculiar sight.
The main diagnostic computer suddenly became active, its monitor spitting
out gigabits of information, in a seemingly random pattern. An eerie black
shadow began form in the backwash of the glowing monitor, slowly assuming a
vaguely human shape. This shadow, this inhuman specter, crept slowly across
the floor until it enveloped the helpless form of Pat Sikes. The sliver band
around his neck began to glow softly for a moment, before returning to normal,
and the blinked, then stretched shaking his head briskly.
"Whoa! That's...that's SO incredible!" the said, looking around
the deserted room. He laughed wildly, hysterically, jumping up and dancing
a little jig before settling back down. "I've done it! I've REALLY done it!
They thought they could repress my genuis, silence me away for good, but I'm
back! Oh yes, Dr. James Specten is back once more! Hahahaha!"
The evil doctor walked over to the wall, looking at himself at the full
length mirror, appraising his new body. Patrick had been much younger than
he, and had kept in good physical condition. Still, his penchant for beer
and cheap wine had given him a slight paunch. "Hmmm, gonna have to cut back
a bit," Specten thought idly. "Oh well, its not a PERFECT fit, but it will do.
Besides," he said with a grin, caressing the sliver band on his neck, "once
I mass produce these little wonders, I can switch until I find a 'suit' I
like." Taking the blueprints, he walked across the hallway into the automated
production lab, and placed it next to tomorrow’s work schedule.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Shortly before three A.M. the doctor made his way to the parking lot. He
drove up to the guard gate, where the night shift guard, Leroy, greeted him.
"Burning the midnight oil, eh, Dr. Sikes?" he said, writing down the time on
his clipboard. "Never understand how you can spend so much time just
THINKING and creating and all. My poor brain would probably explode."
"Oh, its not as hard as you might think, really," the doctor replied,
waiting for the gate to open. "Its like reading a long book, or going
fishing, or working on your beat-up car at home. Sure, it takes a lot
of time and effort, but once you get into it, the time just seems to fly
by."
"If you say so, doc," Leroy replied as the electronic gate opened wide.
"Have a good night."
"Oh believe me, I intend to," the doctor replied with a strange smile,
as he drove home to his lovely, unsuspecting wife.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Ellen Sikes moaned softly, rolling over...or attempting to roll over.
She snapped awake finding herself lying in her bed, her nightclothes removed,
cut away from her body as she slept, and lying discarded on the floor. Her
limbs were tied tightly to the four corners of the bed. Panic set in as she
struggled uselessly, trying to free herself from this unexpected condition.
A laugh, a strange laugh, somewhat familiar, yet so obscenely alien, brought
her struggles to a halt. Walking out of the shadows, her husband, Patrick slid
into view. "Ellen, dearest, you seem upset," he whispered, his voice strangely
rough, and husky. "You always complained that we didn't spend enough time
together, 'bonding'. Well consider this a lesson in bondage."
"Patrick," she gasped in relief. "Geez, you asshole, you nearly gave me
a heart-attack! Next time you feel the need to play kinky sex games, at least
do me the favor of waking me up and letting me KNOW first!"
"Oh, but that would spoil all the fun," Patrick replied with an evil
chuckle. Despite herself, Ellen felt her skin crawl at the sound. "Part of
the thrill is seeing your face as realization hits, changing from the comfort
and safety that you knew before to the absolute TERROR that you felt a moment
ago. You're blood starts pumping, your senses come alive, your nerves stand
on edge...a moment ago, you were panting and breathing like you do when you
are just about to cum." He slid a hand between his wife's spread legs, causing
a loud moan from the bound girl. "See? You're practically dripping wet. Admit
it Ellen, for a moment there, the excitement of the unknown had you as excited
and aroused as you've ever been in your life!"
Ellen was speechless. Now that everything was alright, and she knew
there was no danger, she could look back and see just how true his words
were. A part of the moment had scared her nearly out of her mind, but at the
same time, there had been a certain excitement to it. Even now her clit pulsed
with arousal. Not that she had ever entertained rape fantasies before, but
now...now she could at least understand the appeal somewhat. "Well...how did
you get to be an authority on this all of a sudden, Pat?" she asked, squirming
a little. "Usually, sex for you is by the numbers, in and out. Not that I'm
complaining, mind you." She blinked her eyes coyly, gesturing with her sweet
curvaceous hips. "After all, you have me completely at your mercy, and there's
nothing I can do to stop you from doing ANYTHING you wanted to do."
Pat ran his hands gently along the naked woman's body, singling out her
breasts and continuing to caress them, stroking her nipples as he talked. "You
have a point there, Ellen dear. And I do intend to take full advantage of you,
soon enough. Still, I want to recapture the thrill of the moment earlier, when
you were so frightened. And I think I know what will help." Patrick leaned in
close to his wife, kissing and nibbling on her earlobe as he spoke. "You asked
how I got to be such an expert all of a sudden. Tell me, do you remember my
friend from work, Dr. Specten?"
Ellen flinched at the name. "How could I forget him? That perverted
maniac! God, to think of all the times we had him over for dinner, laughing
and talking, going out to the clubs together. What does HE have to do with
any of this?"
Patrick Sikes smiled, pulling back to let his see his face. His
grip on her became hard, and he squeezed hard enough to bruise the
delicate flesh, causing her to cry out. "I'm afraid I have a big surprise for
you, Ellen, dear. James Specten is very much alive and well...or alive at any
rate. You see, dearest, I'm not the you know and love anymore." Pat's
expression hardened, changing dramatically, into a face that Ellen Sikes
could never forget.
His voice also changed, along with the facial features, and the
that was Patrick Sikes laughed as recognition flashed in his victim's eyes.
"Yes, you've guessed it, Ellen," Specten replied. "Patrick is on a short
leave of absence, and I've taken his place for now. Its me, James. And I'm
about to fuck you to pieces!"
The woman screamed in terror and rage, as the atop her mounted
her, spreading her already open thighs wider, forcing his raging hard-on into
her slit. Her mind rebelled at the situation. It seemed incredible, impossible
for this to be happening. Her husband, possessed by the ghost of his dead
friend? Insanity! Yet, it was happening. The briskly...and very brutally
fucking her was not the same sweet lovable sexually shy she had married.
She felt a deep hysterical laugh inside her starting to inch its way forth,
and she knew that if it came out, she would never stop. As much as she fought
against this violation with her mind, her body began to respond, moving in
time with this man's learned touch, his hard yet stimulating ministrations
causing her hips to bump and grind into each thrust. Moments later she gave
a cry of bitter resigned surrender as her first orgasm came, gently lifting
her into pleasure. An hour later, she squealed in reckless abandon, begging
for more, pleading with every deity she knew for him not to stop. Half an
hour later, as both finally ran out of steam, she kissed and nibbled his face,
whispering words of love, and submission, calling him Master.
James sighed deeply, stretching, as his victim nodded off to sleep. As
thoroughly conquered as she had been, it seemed unnecessary to place a submission
collar on her. Still, better to be absolutely sure. Placing the band around
Ellen's neck, he watched as the straps closed, extending their thin wire
probes deep into her flesh. Her eyes opened wide, her mouth stretched in a
silent cry of anguish...then peaceful oblivion, as the collar robbed her of
all conscious thought. James smiled wickedly, gazing into the blank face of
his newest slave. "Ellen, dearest, listen carefully. My words are now your
reality. I speak it, you think it. It's that simple. I'm going to instruct
you in your new role as my slave."
"Honey, wake up!"
Patrick shifted beneath the covers, groaning softly, placing the pillow
over his head. "Mmmm...five more minutes hon, okay," he murmured softly.
"Sorry, lover, but I don't think this can wait," Ellen's voice teased.
With a deep sigh, Patrick rolled over, yawning as he opened his eyes. As
his vision cleared, he glanced up to see his lovely Ellen...or at least he
HOPED it was Ellen!! The erotic creature before him did bear some resemblance
to his sweet adoring wife, but never before had he seen his so bedecked.
Ellen kneeled across from him on the floor, wearing a small sheer strip of
white cloth, perhaps the remnant of her nightgown. A small silver ring graced
her left nostril, which he was absolutely sure had not been there before. In
her hands, which were chained together in what appeared to be leather cuffs,
was a large silver platter, containing a breakfast of sausage, toast, eggs,
and coffee. Her hair was done up exotically, as if she had spent half the night
brushing, combing anf braiding, just to achieve the effect. From the position
she was kneeling in, he could see her bare feet, the ankles clad in what
was undoubtedly slave bells. Her face, lightly but provocatively decorated in
eyeshadow and blush, smiles softly, seeing the look of utter surprise and
disbelief on his face.
"I take it that my Master is pleased?" she said with a soft giggle.
Master? What was she talking about? "Ellen, dear...are you alright? What
is going on here? Did one of us have too much to drink last night or what?"
Ellen giggled again. "Oh, don't be silly, Patrick dear. I imagine you're a
little fuzzy on the details right now, but I'm sure it'll all come back to you
in time. For now, let's just say that your friend from work stopped by and
made a few changes." She placed the platter down on the bed in his lap, then
knelt beside him, kissing and nibbling on his arm.
"An friend from work, you say?" Patrick felt a shiver of cold creeping
up his back. Somehow, he knew just what that meant, and WHO it meant, but he
was unable to wrap his mind around the concept. Try as he might, his mind kept
shifting away from his worries, concentrating only on the here and now. As Ellen
pulled his hand to her lips, deftly on his fingers, he found it hard
to remember what he was worried about at all. "Mmmm...Ellen dear...you are making
it hard to concentrate on breakfast," he said huskily.
"Simply command me, Master, and I will obey," she said with a devilish
smile. Spreading her legs wider, she gave Patrick a view of her bare pussy,
her thin forest of fuzz removed, clean and smooth as a baby's bottom.
She knew she had him when Pat began licking his lips, and the platter of food
was pushed roughly to the side. "Oh yes," she cried as her Master picked her
up, pressing her hard into him, guiding his stiffening member deep within
her treasure. "Oh yes, Master, take me," she cried, as her body in turn clutched
him to her, and milking his raging monster like there was no tomorrow.
"Oh yes, oh yess, ohhh YEESSSSSS!!" she cried as her orgasms began, sending
her into an undiscovered section of nirvana, where she set up residence for the
next half hour.
Pat lay there, exhausted but sated, gazing down at the sleeping form of
his lovely wife. He had no idea what had gotten into her, but he welcomed the
change wholeheartedly. The only problem now, he thought with a grin, is that
I really don't want to get up and go to work. "I love you, sweetheart," he
whispered, kissing his wife.
The woman opened her eyes, smirking wickedly, as an eerie chuckle escaped
her pursed lips. "Oh, you're not so bad yourself, 'Sweetheart'," a masculine
voice replied. "Still I have to concede, you've got a MUCH better technique
than my cellmate back in the maximum security lock up. Now, now, don't worry,"
he/she replied, seeing the look on Patrick's face. "I'm not staying inside
poor sweet Ellen for good. I just wanted to take a look around, see if the
alterations I'd made were satisfactory. And, of course, the idle curiosity of
experiencing what sex is like from the female's point of view." The person
that was Ellen Sikes winked up at Patrick. "Let me tell you, Pat my boy,
women may get the short end of the stick in a lot of things, but the SEX
more than makes up for it. Cock versus vagina? No contest."
Patrick finally managed to speak, his voice ragged, near hysterical.
"J-j-james. It's you...isn't it? Somehow...someway, its you."
"Easy there Patrick. Don't blow what little bit of mind you've got up
there. This was all just a test to see the effectiveness of the little gadget
I had you create for me in the lab. You know, the silver slave collars your
wife and you now wear. I especially like the built-in, do-no-remove feature.
Now I can access the wearer at any time I please, not just when he or she
is sleeping." The woman rolled out of bed, stood up and made her way to the
cordless telephone on the dresser. "Its been fun, Pat, but I've got to go.
Places to meet, and people to DO, if you catch my drift." She dialed a number,
placing the phone to her ear as she waited for the other end to pick up.
"I won't let you get away with this!" Patrick said, trying to grab the
receiver. To his horror, his body refused to obey him once again, leaving
him motionless as the woman before him laughed.
"Let me get away with this?" she chuckled. "Patrick, my boy, you're
going to HELP me with my little plans from now on. Remember the question
you asked as I was hauled away to jail? And how I told you that one day you
would see for yourself, one day you would understand? Consider this a parting
gift from me, Pat buddy." With that, James spoke one final word, then
departed through the phone lines back to his laboratory.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"This is Carmen Vasquez, with Channel 34 Action News! Police have found
yet another victim of the serial rapist plaguing Jacksonville. Police chief
Jameson Flynt declined to comment on the recent outbreak of aggravated rape
crimes, however, it is widely speculated that these latest crimes are the
work of a copycat, trying to follow in the steps of the convicted rapist,
James Specter...excuse me, Specten. Dr. Specten, once head researcher of
industry giant TransCorp Marketing, had been tried, convicted, and executed
for no less than eighty-six counts of rape, assault, and battery little
more than three months ago. Now it seems apparent to this reporter that
someone is taking up where Specten left off. More news as it develops. This
has been Carmen Vasquez, Channel 34 Action News."
Patrick laughed softly, stroking the face of the lovely woman beneath
him. "What do you think of that, Betty?" he asked the frightened redhead. "I'm
a celebrity. You're about to be fucked by a real-life celebrity. Doesn't that
excite you, Betty?" With her underwear stuffed tightly in her mouth as a
makeshift gag, Betty was unable to answer. Patrick sighed to himself. He much
rather enjoyed the pitiful sounds of his victims as he raped them, but Betty
had persisted in wailing so despondently that he had been forced to gag her
in order to concentrate on the task at hand. Of course, it would have been
a simple matter to place the special submission collar on her neck, and remake
her into his mindless slave, his simpering pleasure toy, but he found that
deprived him of the complete thrill, and excitement, of taking an unwilling
partner to bed.
"Still, I suppose it is a bit of a letdown," he continued conversationally,
as he humped between Betty's quivering thighs, her bound arms struggling futilely
for escape. "To be compared to James Specten, that is. I mean, he was good,
don't get me wrong! I knew the guy very well...and to be honest, he made me
what I am today. But I've gone far beyond what he accomplished, don't you
think?" Betty's only response was a terrified shriek, muffled by the gag.
"Well, I guess you can't fully appreciate the genius of the situation quite
yet, now can you?" he said between deep breaths. For a forty-six year
woman, her was the best he had sampled in quite a while. It was
beginning to be a struggle to hang in there long enough to make the bitch
come first. Nothing broke a victim more than acknowledging that despite their
feelings of fear and hate for what was happening, their body accepted, and
even embraced the sensations wracking it. And that was the attraction, the
single moment of ectascy that he craved, the moment when he looked into the
eyes of his victim and knew that he had broken them, that he had changed them
for the rest of their lives.
That moment had just arrived for Betty. With a muffled groan, she clenched
her eyes shut, and came, letting her juices flow freely down her thighs while
Patrick's cock continued to pump deep within her. He leaned forward, gazing
into Betty's eyes as they opened again, leaking tears of sorrow and anguish,
and ultimately the recognition of her body's submission to him, and he CAME,
spurting his seed deep inside her bowels, his hips bucking wildly against
hers, stroking her clit with each brush until he forced her into a second
orgasm. Patrick, his need sated, relaxed, lying back limply against the bed,
enjoying the peace of the moment. A small part of him looked upon the monster
he had become and howled in anguish. But that small part of him grew smaller
and smaller with each new victim, as he accepted the changed placed upon him,
relishing his new persona. After all, what man, when he has gazed upon paradise,
finds himself longing instead for tangled, wretched, mangled mass of his
existence?
"All finished back here, Patrick, dearest," Ellen said, walking into
view, zipping her black skintight suit back up. "The is out like
a light, the collar is in place, instructions implanted, and everything is
set. How are you doing with the wife?"
"She's all set to be collared, Ellen dear," he replied, taking out the
small silver band from the pocket of his discarded pants. He placed it gently
on the unconscious woman's neck, then took out a small Walkman with headphones
and placed them over her ears. "There. She's all set. It'll take a few days
before the suggestions implanted kick in, but these two are now part of the
'circle' just like us!"
Ellen walked over and kissed her husband, letting her hand slide down
and stroke his wet slick member. Patrick groaned, pulling away. "Don't! I'm
still spent, loveling. Betty here put up quite a fight."
"Not getting are you, honey?" Ellen said with a chuckle. "Looks like
I'll have to take over seducing the AND the women at this rate>" Patrick
frowned in mock anger, grabbing his by her slave collar. "Don't worry,
Pat, we'll pick up a few cases of Viagra, and you'll be just fine again."
"Now see here, slut!" Patrick said, pushing his down onto her knees.
"Don't forget who's in charge here! Viagra, indeed! Maybe I outta fill up your
sweet little ass again and see who can stand it the longest?"
"Oh no, Master, please!" Ellen said, whimpering coyly, batting her
eyelashes. "I'm still sore from the last time. You know your poor little
slave is too tender to stand her Master's in her teeny tiny
hole again so soon!"
Patrick chuckled darkly. His little slut of a certainly knew which
of his buttons to push. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he sighed and shook
his head. "Later, slave girl, later. It's getting late, and we don't want to be
here when they both wake up." He grabbed the headphones from Betty's ears,
packing them away as he quickly got dressed. "But just wait till I get you
home!"
Laughing, she kissed her husband, her Lord and Master, her all. "I can
hardly wait, my Master."
Outside the bedroom window, unnoticed by all, stood a wearing
a T-shirt and blue jeans. He also wore a small silver collar around his neck.
Shaking his head, he chuckled, an eerie dark laugh, a sound strangely out of
place for such a boy. "Phase one is going according to plan," he said
to himself as he walked away. "Now, the real fun can begin."
>>>>>The End, for now!