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Archive-name: Book01.txt
Archive-author: Blackie
Archive-title: "By the Book"
Part 1 of 20
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Copyright (c) 1993, Oogle Bird Enterprises.
All rights reserved, permission granted for a single printed copy for
personal use only. Transmission of this story in electronic form is
permitted provided no alterations are made to text, and this message
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Bob had lived in the house for five years before he found the book.

One day he was cleaning the crawl space, for the first time, when he
spotted a small brown cover under the ancient dust.  It was no more
than a quarter inch thick, but was not noticeably different from some
of the unevenly laid boards.  He only found it when he placed his hand
on the flooring to brace himself, only to slide six or seven inches.

The brown little binder reminded him of the little accounting notepads
he'd seen at the office supply store. It was 5 inches wide, 7 inches
tall, with no title or markings on the outside.  Inside were
handwritten scrawls he simply couldn't make out in the dark of the
crawl space.  So finally, after clearing the years of dust away, he
tucked the book into his back pocket.

During one of his trips downstairs he dropped it onto his desk.  Now
it rested in a small pile of other papers he meant to clear away, as
soon as the chance arose.

The chance didn't arise that day, and by the end of the week the stack
paper had grown enough to conceal the book again.  Bob forgot it for a
time.  When he remembered it one night, it was beyond his memory where
he placed the book.

So there it remained; buried in papers, on his desk, for months. Bob
wasn't very prompt clearing away his old bills and letters. The book
was there waiting though, when the time came.

====

Betty was seeing Bob now. She was a pert 5 foot 6 inch beauty with
long dark hair, weighing in at about 115 pounds.  Bob liked to look at
her, almost as much as he would like to spend a few private hours
exploring her naked body.  He imagined her firm breasts, the soft feel
of her skin, and the contours of her naked ass often.  But although
they'd been dating for 5 months, the closest he'd come was a
disappointing necking session.  It lasted only long enough for her to
point out the food he was cooking would burn.

She would also boss him around a bit.  It seemed to him as though his
vacation with her was entirely her idea, including his paying for it.
Yet they slept separately. And when he suggested that the vacation was
her doing, she pointed out that he brought the idea up, hadn't he? He
was at a loss how that happened.

If they went out for dinner, she chose the cuisine, whether he liked
it or not.  Seeing a movie frequently meant one she wanted to see,
although it kept sounding like it was his idea.  He wasn't entirely
sure how it kept happening.  She seemed pretty pleased with him
though, but sex was not part of the arrangement.

She also had a brutal temper when offended.  He was starting to wonder
if the list of offensive issues was too long to continue seeing her.
Still, he hadn't had any other dates lately and she was friendly
enough for most activities.

Betty also came to his house regularly for meals, TV, and rental
movies. Bob didn't mind much, except he'd also like some intimacy to
go with the other social activities. But now she'd decided he needed
to straighten up the house a bit, since she was there more often.
Since he wasn't doing the cleaning, she took a hand in the process,
and if he didn't watch closely, he had to fish things out of the
trash.

She would only pout and ask "what do you need that old thing for
anyway?" By the time he finished explaining, it was something else
that required rescuing from the sanitary engineers.

Bob suspected she had a permanent relationship in mind, particularly
since the cleaning assault started. When he confronted her about
getting more intimate, she told him "I'm waiting, soon enough either
we'll be getting married or not seeing each other any more. I'm saving
sex for marriage. You wouldn't like damaged goods would you?"  Bob
tacitly agreed, but thought, I don't believe it makes anyone damaged.

She cooled to him for a while, and getting her to be sociable became
more difficult. But wherything returned to normal. Sort of.

During her cleaning project on his house, his desk became one of her
afternoon cleaning sessions. She was sorting the papers into neat
piles. That is when the book resurfaced.

"What's this?" She asked.

"I dunno," he replied, "I found it while cleaning the crawl space.
Thought I'd lost it."

"Well, here," she said, tossing the book to him, "You find it a home,
it doesn't seem to belong with the rest of your papers." And so saying
she went back to organizing, sorting and cleaning. And Bob thought to
himself, taking over my life, sigh.  It wouldn't be so bad if I got
laid out of all this.  He watched her backside for time as she
flattened the sheets of paper and stacked them neatly for storage.

He looked at the book for a minute and went to the living room.
Dropping into his favorite chair, he opened the book to see what was
in it.  He had to turn on the reading lamp to make out the writing.

At first he thought it was gibberish.  In fact, although he could make
out the characters clearly now, it was in no script or language he'd
ever seen before.  The unusual writing was done in a neat, practiced
hand, with embellishments that came from frequent use. He felt certain
the author had used the letters many times before and was accustomed
to writing in small script.  The book was confusing to thumb through.

After a few pages though it started to make sense, even though he
could still see only nonsense characters.  He went back to the first
page.

He translated the title page loosely in his mind, _being an effort to
document the control of response from experimental subjects_.  As he
read the book, he found the notes documenting symbology for a proposed
language to communicate thought.  This lead to discussion, he thought,
of some kind of experiment to pass ideas to others without speaking.
When he got to the end of the notebook, he vaguely understood the
symbols outlined, but concluded the book was nonsense.  He was still
inclined to keep it, but couldn't say why.

"Well, what is that thing?" Betty's voice came from the door to the
kitchen.

"I think some kid was trying to write some kind of prank about their
science class, you want to look?"

"Sure," she said walking over towards him sensually, the usual fluid
wave motion her hips moved in when she walked.  He still couldn't
understand how she could be so lithe and sexy, yet have no inclination
to arousal. She took the book and opened it to the first page. After
squinting and staring, her tongue lightly caressing her lips as she
obviously struggled to make out the characters.

"What language is this in?"

"I couldn't tell you. Never saw it before in my life."

"I'd say someone was doodling if it weren't so consistent and smoothly
written."

"Well, from what I can make out..."

"What!," She interrupted, "you can read this gibberish?"

"Well, kind of..."

"Oh, sure! and I'm a monkey." She was starting to show severe signs of
mad, "If you never saw anything like it before, you aren't going to
tell me you can read this!" She threw the book at him and stormed out
of the room.  Seductively waving, Bob thought to himself, her little
ass all the way.

Bob sighed. Then he put the book in a storage box in his basement,
along with many other books he figured to have on shelves when they
got built. The box itself got stacked with the rest of the boxes. And
by Saturday, if Bob was asked, he wouldn't remember which.

The book had found itself a new place to hide. If a book could be
believed to have such plans and schemes.

====

A week or so later, Bob thought about the contents of the book as he
went to talk to his boss at work about getting off friday as
compensation for extra time he'd worked last month.  It never worked
to ask, but he kept trying anyway.

Bob decided to try the symbols in his mind. As he walked into the
office he pushed the idea of the day off towards his boss.

"George, I'd like some of my time back from last month.  I know I'm
salaried, but I keep having to work a lot of extra hours, and it's
getting to be too regular."

"Bob, you come in it seems, every other month or so with this
request." The man at the desk leaned back aher than the exception."
Bob had decided to try this approach, but at the same time he reached
out with the book's symbols trying to impress the reasonableness of
his request.

"This time I guess I agree with you," responded George. "Just let
Marcy know. I'm not promising this will happen again though."

Surprised, but not certain how persuasive the symbols from the book
were, as opposed to how George may have simply decided to reward his
hard work, Bob stopped to talk to Marcy. Marcy, the secretary working
with George and his group, made note of the day as a compensation day.

======

As he walked to the mens room he thought about the results of his
experiment.  It was awfully convenient, possibly coincidental. He
couldn't be sure if something had happened or not.

An extremely attractive blond, willowy figured with her hair in a bun,
and boobs, as Bob thought of them, too large for her frame and
weight, was walking the other way.

Amusing himself, Bob imagined himself reaching out with the symbols of
the book to her. Turn around, he thought, and walk to the storage room
at the end of the hall, get undressed quickly for me...

To his amazement, she smiled coyly at him, spun on her heals and
walked smoothly down the hall to the storage room.  With one hand she
was unhooking her dress, the other was opening the door. Then she was
inside, and Bob was still stunned as he looked down the hall.

He warily stepped down the hall and through the still open door.  The
light was still off, so he flicked the switch as he closed the door
behind him.

Before him, hands on her naked knees, sitting demurely atop her
discarded clothing, she smiled, lightly tilted her head and slowly
pushed her chin forward as if posing for a photographer.

Bob knew this woman.  This was Fran from the purchasing department. He
knew she was married, and confirmed this again by looking at her ring
finger. Sure enough there were two rings, a wedding ring and an
engagement ring.  Her hair still in a bun, she looked about 28 or 29
years old.  Not certain how to approach this opportunity, he stood
taking in the glorious view.

"Do this often?," He finally asked feeling more than a little awkward
and uncertain.

"I just thought it would be nice to let you see how nice I look
without my clothes," then she frowned, one of those little 'how did
that happen' frowns that looks as though it would be nice to have
happen again. "I can't imagine why I've never done this for you
before.  I'd be glad to undress for you any time though."

Bob crossed the room and reached out to touch her breast. Shocked and
startled she slapped his hand away. She shook an attractive finger at
him.

"Look, don't touch," was her pronouncement, "You may see everything
you want, but I'm married."  She slowly got to her feet again and did
a small pirouette as he admired her tight bottom, and large tits. Her
hands caressed both the curve of her hips and the undersides of the
still firm breasts as she turned for him to look.

Bob suddenly felt vaguely guilty, taking advantage of a married woman.
But the thought quickly passed.  Bob brought the symbols back into his
thoughts and pushed thoughts of being aroused towards her. He also
worked in the idea that she would like him to take care of her aroused
state.

"unggghh," she moaned lowly. This time as she turned her eyelids were
gently fluttering to half open and her tongue showed ever so slightly
between her lips. "I think, unggh, you better help me with this..."
she trailed off into another light moan.

This time as he reached out to her breast, she took his hand and led
it directly to the nipple.  Fran immediately shuddered with his touch.
The heat of the act rose in his groin.  Her eyes, a light blue with
touches of silver, opened wide, looking deeplpulsation in his groin.
But he could clearly see she was spent. He figured he could make her
reach that peak again, but thought he'd like better control over the
process.

He realized he didn't quite understand his new found ability yet.  He
would need to try some other way to use it before he did this again.
On the other hand, he thought, Fran will make a great toy while I
learn. He smiled. In her recovery, she curled the corners of her mouth
up in an almost lecherous grin,..  almost.  As one last moan seeped
out, her eyes drooped and her chin strained forward again. God!, she
really responded like dynamite, thought Bob.

"Well," she said, "I'm afraid they'll start missing me soon if I don't
get back. We'll have to find a better way to do this," she coyly
licked her lips looking at him, "I don't know what to tell Joe though,
he won't want me to leave him, but that was better than any orgasm
I've ever had before."

Whooooops, "Why do you need to tell Joe," her husband, he realized.
"Why don't we keep this our secret?"

She pouted. "Oh, but I can't let this stop, its better than I've ever
known it could be. Besides, I need you soo bad, I don't think I can go
without you now."

With this she virtually plastered her body to his and sank her tongue
into his mouth in one pulsating kiss, one hand gently caressing his
crotch through his pants. This served only to remind him that he
hadn't gotten off yet, and was very excited himself.

"Do you think you could take care of my...," he started, and realized
he had a meeting he'd be late for already. He'd miss it completely if
he continued to play. He sighed.

Instead he pushed the thoughts at her that this tryst was their
secret, only they should know about it, and she would forget about any
sexual activities with him when he wasn't around. He add the last for
fear her husband might worm it out of her anyway... as she turned to
leave, he ran his fingers across her breasts, down her side, and
carefully rubbed her bottom, sliding his middle finger along the
crack between her cheeks.  Fran lightly breathed an animalistic
groan as she left.

Somewhat frustrated, but intrigued by this power, he slipped into the
meeting. For effect he projected to everyone that he'd been there all
along.

====

That night he began to dig through boxes in the basement. If he could
find the book, maybe, just maybe there was something to explain
controlling subjects better.

He dug through the boxes for almost two hours before he finally
found the book.  It was as he remembered it, brown and small. He took
it up to his bedroom to examine.

The rest of the evening Bob spent studying and re-studying the book's
narration.  The symbols became easier to translate, and he found
himself thinking in terms of the symbols rather than english for the
concepts.  He realized it didn't matter because he was never going to
explain these concepts to anyone.  The easier it became to think this
way, the more he could feel the symbols in his head.

Finally, he looked at the clock and saw it was nearly 1:00 AM.  He
needed to work Thursday, and he needed sleep.  Before going to sleep
he decided this book required a good safe place for keeping it. He
didn't want anyone else to see it or get a chance to read it.

The only other person that knew about it was Betty.  Bob figured she'd
shown no interest, and was confused or unable to decipher the symbols.
She'd probably already forgotten it. If she ever asked, he could tell
her the book was thrown out.

It occurred to Bob that if anyone found out what he could do, there
would be problems.  Notorious secret agencies and spies, etc. Suddenly
this became very frightening.  He had no idea who or what would want
to have this knowledge but he could imagine many people that would
kill to get it.

He went to sleep thinking of this.

Not surprisingly, his dreams were filled with hostile agents and 'men
from the government, here to help you'. At one point, Betty was
sucking his cock and saying between licks, "now remember, I agreed to
do this if you just hand over the book."  He woke up startled and
aroused.  It took seconds to see that nobody was in his bedroom with
him.

He managed a shaky shower, dressedtook him two hours to find
it there, it would be unlikely anyone else would find it quickly
burgling his house.

He ate his breakfast with abandon, and rushed off to work.
====

It was Thursday and Bob couldn't keep his mind on work.  He thought
about the fun he'd had playing in the storage room with Fran the day
before.  He began to wonder if he could get her there again today.

He wandered by Fran's desk, but she wasn't there.  Asking after her,
he discovered she was out for the morning at a vendor site for
contract work.  Disappointed, he thought about looking around the
building for another prospective subject.

After a moment though, he thought better of the idea and went back to
work. Fran was someone he'd already touched.  It might be a good idea
to use only the subject he already had worked on before moving to
someone else. So instead he wrapped himself in the design he was
working up and shortly, was very involved.

After rereading a new section he'd written, he looked up and around
the office. Something different was going on in his mind today.

He looked at Randi, the brunette across the aisle from him. He could
see, at least in his mind, the book's symbols moving through her mind.
With a little effort he could make out her thoughts, piecemeal, as she
worked.  A stream of ideas and actions melded together as Randi worked
her project.  He wondered if he could just block them for a moment.

As as he thought of this, he tried it. He instinctively knew which
symbol to use and where to insert it. He realized after he'd done it
that he'd intended to behave himself until Fran was back. Well, after
all, my patience is thin today, he thought.

Meanwhile, Randi, had sat back and looked stumped.  She started to
scowl. The same problem kept spinning in the patterns in her mind, and
every time the solution she'd been working towards came up, Bob's
symbol blocked it out.  He grinned to himself, and withdrew the
symbol.  She immediately smiled to herself and scrambled to commit the
solution to paper.

Bob remembered Randi at a party he'd had for the office.  His house
was a mess afterwards, and she'd attended with a skinny bookish
fellow.  She'd kept that guy on a short leash all night.  In fact the
only time he saw the guy away from her was when he'd gone to the can.

Bob looked at Randi closely as though for the first time. Her hair was
down to her shoulders with decorative clips one either side above her
ears.  Today she was wearing a trousers and blouse combination.
Faintly, through the blouse, he could see a thin bra, although he
couldn't make out her nipples.  Her breasts were small, but round
enough to give her more than a boyish shape. She had dark eyes with a
thin nose nestled between and below. Her lips were moist and smooth
with just a touch of teeth or tongue occasionally showing as she
appeared to mutter to herself.

Bob checked the time. Fran wouldn't be back yet for two more hours.
Since he was toying with Randi now, well, what the heck.  He started
to examine her closely to see what the symbols looked like when she
thought.

He discovered there was more than one stream of thought in process.
Apparently, most of the nervous system was passing symbols about. He
wondered that so many streams could run at once, but the conscious
stream was the strongest, most active. He tried inserting an itch
sensation into the stream from her shoulder.

Immediately, without dropping any other activity, Randi began to
scratch her shoulder. He dropped the sensation and she stopped
scratching.

Now, that was something! He pushed a tickle and tingle sensation into
her nipples.  He was satisfied to see them pop visibly hard under her
blouse and bra.  She took in a sharp breath but continued to work,
resisting the new urge to pay attention to the arousal of her tits.
The result seemed to enhance her state g
any other body functions.

She visibly lost her concentration on the project now.  Looking around
she saw Bob looking at her, and developed a look of panic.  Her breath
was coming in panting rhythm and her hips had begun a slight sway.  She
clearly suffered embarrassment at her sudden loss of control. He saw
her suppress a moan.  He kept moving the sensations and increasing the
strength.  Her eyelids drooped, her tongue moistened her lips and she
began to stretch her head and neck from side to side.

Randi turned red with obvious embarrassment.  Amused, Bob shot her his
best quizzical look.  Her stifled moans were turning into sharp grunts.
Her hand moved to her crotch.  Seemingly she struggled, twisting in
her chair a few moments, hoping to suppress the unexpected bodily
activity. It was hopeless though.  She gave in to her body and slipped
the hand into her pants.  Bob could only see her arm go under the
desk, but he knew exactly what she was fingering.  Looking around to
see if anyone else could see, Randi gave up the idea of keeping Bob
from seeing her condition. A moment later her other hand caressed and
twisted her nipples, allowing Bob a view of her delicately red painted
fingernails.

She came with a loud thump, almost convulsively, as she suppressed as
much sound as she could, jamming her fist in her mouth, her teeth
biting down on the knuckles. The stifling little gasps and sobs that
followed were a delight to Bob's ears.

As she finished Randi hung her head to her chest, tucked her feet
under the chair spreading her knees, both hands embraced the desk
about 4 feet apart.  She gasped in the air to stabilize her body. Her
hair curtained her face.

Finally, after regaining some composure, she looked up at Bob. He was
still watching her with an intensity given of a man who was horny.

"I don't know what came over me," again she flushed with embarrassment.

"I found that very exciting, myself. Do you have this happen often?"
he asked as innocently as possible.  He really didn't want to give
himself away.  Looking at the clock, he realized that this had only
used 15 minutes of the 2 hours before Fran returned.  An hour and
three quarters remained. Should he take Randi, certainly not here,
but should he take her, too?

"You certainly got a cheap thrill at my expense then, didn't you?!" she
snapped, anger rising in her.

"Don't blame me, I never touched you or even got close."

"Yeah," she eased back. "I guess I lost control. That never happened
to me before!"

contiuned in part 2