Gender: Female Age: Secret Location: N/A
For some time now, I had been involved in a number of things of questionable moral value, starting from when I read this book.
The book was a handwritten lecture on magic, bound in leather and written on vellum estimated to be over 500 years old. Being a bright but dirt-poor kid living less than a mile from a public library, a great deal of my time was spent there, poring over anything that captured my interest. The library had started a program that put rare and/ or old books into limited circulation, and let Joe Reader from the block read them in the library, under certain conditions (special light, clean room, that sort of thing). I thought it was a really cool idea, getting a little culture as well as a little knowledge. I spent most of my free time there, and had read many interesting things that just aren't printed today.
I guess that's a good thing. The book in question was from a member of the Order of the Rosy Cross, a secret society that had existed for centuries, and read like a "how-to" manual for performing magic rituals. The thing that caught my attention about this is the precision that the author insisted on. The designs and incantations had to be done exactly the right way, the geometric patterns perfect. If the details were off by just a little, it greatly affected the potency of the spell. According to the book, those who had done the rituals the right way (and there were very few, after many tries) were granted great power and influence. It mentioned several people by name, all of whom were highly influential people in medieval Europe. Some names (including some high-ranking church officials) were downright shocking.
Somehow the idea came to me that I had a tool that was better than the patience the book spoke of, namely the library's computers. The graphics and the spoken spells could be timed precisely, and get rid of all the guesswork in the precision. A perfect combination of arcane and techno wizardry.
So, taking careful notes (no copying on ancient texts) I recorded the steps on how to bend others to my will. At this point, I had no expectation of it actually working, but I was pretty confident that nobody else had tried this before, and since 8th grade had just wrapped up for me, it seemed like a cool way to kill a few days of summer vacation.
I spent the next three days writing a computer program that displayed the required geometric patterns in the proper timing and sequence, adding in sound files of the various chants at the right moments. Then I spent another two days frustratingly debugging the damn thing, but in the end I had a finished prototype.
Once the ritual was complete, all you were supposed to do is place the fingers of your left hand at specific points on the geometric pattern, and the power was supposed to be released into you. After that, you simply had to touch the person or animal with your right hand, and issue your command; once you let go, however, the power would no longer work on them, but the commands you previously had given would be obeyed. Also, the book warned you would be limited to four commands; theoretically, you could give more, but if you gave five orders, the power behind all the commands would be weakened so much that a strong-willed person could ultimately resist it. Still, there was plenty of room in there for imagination.
The next Sunday, I showed up bright and early at the library, leveled the flat screen monitor and aligned the edge with magnetic north like the instructions said to do. Without further ado, I ran the program.
It took almost ten minutes in its entirety, where these poor suckers in the 16th century spent days for each painstaking attempt. The patterns aligned themselves, the words were spoken in my recorded voice, and at the end there was a surprising flare of light that the book had never mentioned. Up until that point I had thought it was a fun project, worthy of MythBusters. When the monitor started glowing with a light much brighter than the LCD screen could put out, I realized for the first time that the book was not bullshitting.
In my amazement, I almost forgot to complete the ritual, but I shook myself and placed the fingers of my left hand where they were supposed to be.
The rush that flowed through me was unbelievable, and completely indescribable. All I can say is, once the powerful flow abated, I no longer had any doubts that true magic actually existed.
The librarian's name was Ann, and she was a shriveled up retired volunteer, and perfect for a test subject. She knew me well, and we had a decent relationship going on. Many of the kids described her as a shrew, but she'd always been nice to me, maybe because I liked hanging out in the library, when most of my peers just showed up when they had to. She trusted me with the books, and I made sure never to abuse that trust. After saving my program to a flash drive (I won it as a door prize, my mom would never spring for something like that), I readjusted the monitor and sought her out. I found her, as always, in the Historical Fiction section, leafing through the books like she expected a new one to appear out of thin air.
Making small talk, I indicated interest in the book she was holding, and reached out with my right hand as if to look at the cover, but really aiming for her hand.
I felt what I now call The Touch flow into her, and she stopped moving, stopped paying attention to the world around her. Gripping her hand more securely, I quickly whispered my commands to her:
"Ann, I am your friend. You trust me completely." A nod, a murmured assent. Encouraged, I continued.
"Ann, you will let me take any book I want, without signing it out... even the books that aren't supposed to leave the library." Another nod, another affirmative murmur. Time for the hat trick.
"Ann, you will let me do anything that I want, you'll even help if I ask you to. Anything." Once more, the nod and mumbled acknowledgement. And now, the closer...
"Ann, you will obey these commands I have given you, but you will not recall this conversation. As far as you remember, we had a nice quiet chat about Historical Fiction." The now expected response came and went, and I released her hand. Ann blinked and smiled.
"Well, now, you got me talking about my favorite subject, didn't you?" she said cheerfully, if quietly. It was a library, after all.
I smiled, trying to conceal my excitement. It worked! "Well I won't bother you any longer, Ann. But there is one thing..."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Well, you know that ancient book on magic I was reading? I really wanted to study it more, but the library isn't open long enough for me to get into it. Do you think I could maybe take it home with me? I'll be very careful with it." I asked, carefully letting only a small amount of wheedling come through in my voice.
"Well... I can't sign it out to you, but if it just... disappeared... I don't think anyone would notice for quite a while. Of course," she leaned in and whispered in a conspirational voice, "if someone catches you with it, I had no idea, right?"
I grinned. "Right. Thanks Ann, I appreciate it."
She grinned back. We walked over to the Rare Books section and she unlocked the bookcase, and handed me the book that had proven its value already.
My walk home was incredibly short. I found myself trying to think of a way to use The Touch to set me up for life, but each idea I thought of had a downside. I could make millionaires give me money, but the IRS would be on me like white on rice. I could get a great job with a simple handshake, but people would know if I wasn't qualified. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized it would be very difficult to make any sort of sweeping changes in business or politics, because The Touch only worked on one person at a time, and for only one time. I couldn't shake someone's hand in a crowded room and give them instructions to favor me, everyone else would hear them.
It was apparent that I needed to think about strategy. I had acquired a powerful tool, but it was not all-powerful, and if I couldn't figure out how to address the weaknesses, I could be in a world of hurt. I also needed to do more research on other ancient books of magic.
Mom was home when I got back, that surprised me at first but then I realized that I usually spent all day at the library. Today, I had cast my spell, tested it out, and returned home with the book. It was a little past noon, and she was already well into her bottle of gin.
I wasn't prepared for her to accost me right in the door, but she immediately launched into a tirade. "David! You were supposed to do the dishes! I got no clean glasses! How'm I supposed to have a drink without clean glasses?" she slurred. I sighed, having heard it all before.
"It's Cassie's turn, mom, you know that."
"Cassie's at Laura's house. You'd think you could help out around here. I put clothes on your back, I feed you..." and off we went with how good a mother she was, when it was the State the clothed and fed us, and she didn't do a damn thing. Well, it was true that Cassie was over Laura's house, I had forgotten about that. Laura was Cassie's best friend, and she had slept over last night, but that didn't change the fact that it was still Cassie's turn. I knew I was going to end up doing the dishes again just so Mom could fill her glass with gin and juice.
Suddenly I realized that I had another option. Reaching out, I grabbed her free hand with mine. My right hand. Instantly, she went slack, just like Ann had at the library. Enough of doing other people's chores!
"Mom, any time you think I should be doing a chore, you will do the chore yourself, and think nothing of it. After all, you don't work, so why not do some chores?" I waited for her to acknowledge this before I went on to the next command. She was slower to respond than Ann was, but I thought that might be because of the booze.
"Mom, you will not interfere in anything I do, nor try to stop me from doing anything I want." Again, the pause, but her response eventually came.
Now I was stumped. I couldn't think of anything else to command her with, when all of a sudden it came to me.
"Mom, whenever I give you a direct order, you will obey it completely." She seemed to tremble a bit before acknowledging this one, but eventually she did. I didn't know when I would use that command, but I wanted it available if I needed it.
"Mom, you will obey the commands I gave you, but you will not remember me giving them to you. Instead, you will remember having an argument with me about the dishes and deciding you would just do them yourself." And with that I let go of her hand.
Mom blinked a couple of times, and then muttered, "Never mind, I'll do 'em myself..." and walked into the kitchen.
Yahoo! No more chores for me! Feeling awfully pleased with myself, I strode into my bedroom to read more of that wonderful book.
I was halfway through the next section, dealing about predicting the weather (although modern meteorology seemed to more effective than the magic version by a good bit, it was still interesting) when the idea struck me like a thunderbolt.
The Touch might not get me elected president, but it sure as shit could get me laid on a regular basis.
The book temporarily forgotten, I spent the next two hours writing and rewriting the commands to make a perfect sex slave. What I eventually came up with was this:
You accept yourself and anything you own as my permanent, private, and loyal property.
You are my obedient, truthful, devoted, respectful slave, committed to being the best slave you can be for me.
You find great personal satisfaction and pleasure in pleasing me, no matter what action it is that pleases me.
You understand and accept that anything I do to or with you, or any other piece of my property, anything, is my right as your owner.
I thought the last one might be over the top, but who knows about the sorts of kinky things I could dream up down the road? In for a penny, in for a pound, right? If I threw these four commands at any woman, I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and she'd let me... hell, she'd probably invite me to. And I wouldn't have to worry about her remembering the commands, because it wouldn't matter if she knew how she became my slave, she would still be my slave.
I spent the next 20 minutes trying to think who would make the best love slave that I could get alone for a little while, when Lo and Behold, in walks Cassie, no knocking, nothing, like she owned the place.
"Mom just yelled at me for not doing the dishes. Why didn't you do them? I'd have taken your next turn."
I snorted, knowing my sister well enough to know that if it wasn't pre-arranged, she would consider it null and void as a dealmaker. What I said was, "It wasn't my turn."
She sniffed in annoyance, and was about to walk back out, when she saw the old book sitting on my bed. I hadn't thought of hiding it, since I really didn't expect her to come barging in without even an announcement. "What's this?" she asked curiously. Hastily, I tried to take the book from her, knowing I didn't want her reading it or talking about it. She grabbed it and held it away from me, teasing, and without thinking about it I grabbed her arm.
I felt the power of The Touch well up in me and flow into her as she went slack against me. Silently I cursed at myself for having been reckless. What I going to command her to do? The only thought I'd given to a command strategy was the slave ones, and they...
Well, why not? She was young, but pretty, long straight black hair, green eyes, high cheekbones, athletic, and popular at school. She was my sister, but did that really matter? She definitely met all the criteria, and here we were, alone together. Why not indeed. Opportunity was knocking, and it only knocks once. I grabbed the piece of paper I had written the final draft of my "slave script" and read it off to her, pausing on each line until she acknowledged it. I didn't know if it was important that the commands be acknowledged, but I didn't feel like taking chances. When I got her final affirmation, I let go of her with a trembling hand.
For a moment, she said nothing. Then she turned to me, with tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Brother. I shouldn't have been so disrespectful." Her voice was soft, low... pleading. Her eyes were cast down submissively. Even her body language was diffident, uncertain. It was unreal. I was sort of in shock with what I'd just done to her, and how completely different she seemed. I cleared my throat.
"Uh, yes. Well, from now on, you can always do the dishes. It's women's work anyway." I said, knowing that before I had given her The Touch, that kind of statement would have made her blow up, and I was curious to see how she would react now.
She grimaced slightly, then nodded. "Yes, Brother. Was there anything else you wanted from me?" She asked so innocently. My thoughts were anything but.
"Well, I've always wanted to see you naked..." I laughed nervously. This was taking it to the next level, and if I had been thinking straight, I know I never would have had the guts to ask, but it was out there now.
Cassie blinked those pretty green eyes of hers. "Naked? You mean you want me to take off my clothes?" she asked, almost incredulously. Her response, while not immediate obedience, made me feel more confident. She was seriously considering it, and I hadn't quite phrased it as an order, either implied or direct.
"Well yeah. Is there a problem with that?" I asked, knowing full well there was a laundry list of problems with that.
"Well, you're my Brother. I don't want to be disrespectful, but I'm not supposed to be naked in front of you."
"But I'm more than just your brother, right Cassie?" I pressed, gaining even more confidence. "I have expectations of you, and I expect you to fill them."
Cassie frowned. "It just doesn't seem right."
Well, my patience was used up and I was now sporting a boner that I thought would rip my jeans apart, my imagination having captured the idea of a naked Cassie. "Cassie, take off your clothes. Now."
Another blink, and she was removing her shirt, then her jeans. She was borderline for needing to wear a bra, and apparently today she had decided to forgo that particular item, but her panties were pink and a bit worse for wear. The panties joined the socks in a pile at her feet. She was blushing scarlet from her face to her chest, but she was obeying.
When she was naked, standing in front of me, trembling in embarrassment, I stepped up to her and cupped the cheek of her ass. Cassie gasped, but otherwise did not react. Like an obedient slave, she did not resist me, and I slowly explored every part of her body, leaving her sexual parts for last. My hands roamed over her breasts, which were just beginning to be noticeable as breasts, and then slid to her crotch. Her legs were too close together for me to explore fully, but that was easy to correct.
"Spread your legs a bit for me, Cassie."
"Yes, Brother," she whispered, and did as I instructed. I continued investigating her pussy. It was just starting to grow some hair, it looked like. I stuck my finger in her, making her gasp again. I pushed in until I could feel what I thought must be her hymen. Finally, I had her bend over so I could check out her ass. Spreading her cheeks apart, her little pucker winked at me, and I reveled in the knowledge that her ass was also on the menu.
Standing back up, I told her to put her panties back on. She seemed very relieved as she quickly pulled them up her legs. As she was doing that, I sat on the edge of my bed.
"Kneel between my legs, Cassie." Gracefully, she walked up to me and knelt, looking up at me, likely to avoid looking at the bulge in my pants. "Sister, can you think of any reason why I shouldn't enjoy sex with you?"
Her eyes widened, and for the next couple of minutes she was silent as I stroked her hair, her cheeks, her arms. A couple of times she started to say something but stopped herself, until finally, she spoke in a quiet but resolute voice.
"Brother, if you want to have sex with me, you should have sex with me. It's your right. I'll try to make it as good for you as I can, but I really don't know a whole lot about sex. I don't want to disappoint you."
I smiled in triumph. "I don't think you can, Cassie. But right now, I would love for you to pull my dick out of these jeans and blow me. I'll guide you through it." Yeah, like I had a much better idea about sex than she did, but I had at least seen a couple of pornos, and the library had no less than four versions of the Kama Sutra. I wasn't sure about all the yoni this and lotus that stuff, but I knew what I liked.
Cassie whispered another "Yes, Brother" and went to work on my buckle. It was giving her trouble so I helped her out, ultimately having her lean back so I could stand up and remove the jeans myself, but when I sat back down, we were both ready to proceed.
"OK, now, kiss the head of my dick. Yes, ah, like that. Oh, that feels good. Now the trick is to suck on it as you move it in and out of your mouth, like a popsicle, like... like that, yeah, oh! Ow! Careful with your teeth! No teeth!" Funny how no porno had ever addressed the teeth issue, I had to find out on my first blowjob from someone who had never given a blowjob before. But I could deal with it.
"OK, now once in a while, take a lick or suck on my balls, while jacking me off with your hand. Here, give me your hand, like this. There you go. Man, that feels great. Ah. OK, go back to my dick, start trying to go lower, yeah, that... don't choke yourself now, just go as low as you... without, ah, yes..."
And so we went for about five minutes, and I could feel it coming, my first orgasm by another's ministrations.
"Oh, Cass... faster now... suck harder... I'm gonna... I'm gonna come in... oh... in your mouth. You need to, oh that's good, to swallow my come, got it? That's... ahhhhh!" and I started spurting down my first slave's throat. It caught her by surprise and she choked, and started coughing, but she didn't stop sliding my dick in and out of her mouth.
"OK, now gentle, swallow all my come, and be gentle with my dick, it's real sensitive right now. Good girl. OK, you can stop. That was great."
Cassie looked up at me with hopeful eyes. "Then you're pleased with my blowjob?" She asked.
"Very pleased. I can hardly wait for another." Her anxious expression bloomed into a tentative smile.
"I can give you another right now if you like. My jaw's a little sore, but it shouldn't be a problem. I'll be careful of my teeth, and I won't choke on your... come... next time, I promise."
I chuckled. "I'm glad to hear it, but I need a little time to recover from this one. Maybe in an hour or so." Cassie nodded. I sat there looking at my sister, my slave, still kneeling between my knees, waiting for me to command her. She looked back at me expectantly.
"Get dressed. Then make my bed. And don't mention that book to anybody." She nodded and stood as if that's what she was expecting, and maybe it was.
A whole new world had opened up for me. Maybe The Touch couldn't make me President, but Hugh Heffner could eat his heart out.
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