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Archive-name: Book13.txt
Archive-author: Blackie
Archive-title: "By the Book"
Part 13 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
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"Sit down please," Jones directed.

Bob relaxed in a chair in the middle of what seemed to be Jones's
office. The chair was perfectly situated in front of the desk Jones
sat at.

"There is one little detail we need to accomplish." said Jones.

"What's that?"

"There is a tiny matter of loyalty.  We need to know we can trust
you."

Trust goes two ways, Bob thought, but if you wanted trust you never
would have approached my house the way you did. He didn't like
something about this discussion.

"And just how do you intend to find out?"

"Oh, we have a way of ensuring it." and punched a button on his desk.

A pressure drove at Bob's mind from above. Looking up he could now
see an opening above, with a small dish antennae pointing at him.

He was too busy with the symbols to get up from the chair.

The transmitter above was driving one symbol at him, and one symbol
alone, 'Obey'. It was a harsh, highly powered command he was loathe
to accept, especially here. The energy slammed at his skull blithely
shoving his cover persona aside. The bolt smacked into the shield he'd
developed, and pushed him back behind that same barrier.

There was no human source he to reach this time, unlike his
experience with Bambi. No one to shut off, no simple way to retain
his freedom. He was fighting a machine, with far more energy than he
could draw on.

He became quite frantic. Sweat seeped up through the roots of his
hair, and a few drops fell from his eyebrows. He felt his vision
become blurred. The beam was winning. Soon he would not be the same
person he was when he came in this room.

Instead of fighting the beam, he reasoned, perhaps he could draw on
it. He began to take some of the energy from the charged command and
build it into a cup like shield between him and it. This cut the
pressure sharply.

Some of the energy he pulled aside and looking at Jones, he saw
another use. He poured it into a probe to break through the mind
shield Jones wore.

A visible light show commenced in a ball shape around Jones, who
looked quite startled. Jones frantically pressed another button.  The
ball shape wasn't as round as Bob thought. He started to explore the
shield's actual limits. The thing was more donut shaped than the ball
shape he originally perceived. The shield collapsed in at the top and
bottom, leading towards the device behind Jones ears.

The abrupt discovery was of little use though. At that moment a pair
of men with pistols burst into the "I've lost track. Must be about three
or four months."

"They picked me up a year ago. They prod and poke at me, but I think
they're into some kind of psychological mumbo jumbo."

"You do the mind reading stuff?"

"Yes, you?"

"Sure thing. Your the first person I've met here without those brain
caps they wear. Well, the first they didn't pick up with me."

"Huh?" said Jean.

"Well, I had some girl friends they snatched too, because I, er,
influenced them."

"I haven't seen anyone other than jerks in white coats. Waitaminute,
no, I also had some guy try to make a pass at me, once in my 'cell'."

"Ha! Damn men think they know everything. I can see right through
them now, and they know it."

"Don't you like men?"

"Not really, I like pretty girls. Like you."

"Well you can just stay away from me. I don't like women, even though
I ain't too particular about men either."

The red head was now stroking Jean's hair gently. She was interested
enough, probably horny as all hell. Jean brushed her hand away
sharply.

"Seriously. Leave me be."

The lesbian vixen was now concentrating very hard. Suddenly so was the
brunette shopper. There was a strong momentary intensity. Later, the
observer would learn the scanning apparatus used for this experiment
was registering enormous flares of activity.

It only lasted a few moments.

"You're so lovely, I could eat you right up," were the next words
Jean uttered.

====

"hsst!"

There was a raging rock fall at the back of his head. Every time he
moved another boulder came down on the back of his skull.

"hssst!"

Goddamn, that noise was really annoying. How the fuck did he get a
hangover? Then he remembered.

He was at the Institute.  It was obvious they wouldn't just let him
go. Bambi's escape had been a phony, so he had no reason to believe
getting away would be easy.

"hssst!" He pried open one of his eyes. There was a woman in the room
with him. She was trying to get his attention.

The room was some kind of hospital room. There were gurneys near by,
and damn if Bob wasn't tied to one. So he looked back at the woman,
realizing she was tied down too.

"do you know how the 'hunters' caught you?" she whispered. He tried
to reach out with a mind probe, only to catch another heavy boulder
at the back of his head.

Then he noticed the woman had some kind of wire netting over her
head. He probably had the same thing. A restraint for the rebellious
telepath. Groan. The mind shields were bad enough. They seemed to have
other measures at their disposal to control their pet telepaths.

"They came to my house," whispered back, "and invited me to buy a
condo here. I was dumb not to try getting away sooner."

"You seem familiar."

"I recognize you too. Where?"

"Hey, were you the guy warning me a while back?"

"Could be. I did warn.." but he trailed off as footsteps came their
way. He feigned sleep.

The gurney was being moved. He had to try again at escaping, but when?
His entire body felt sluggish and he was tied down to boot. What could
he do?

====

Jean reached over and caressed Heather's hair.

She'd changed from hardened resistance to active participation so
quickly, the observer hoped the cameras weren't having troubles.
They so often did.

Heather in turn began to touch Jean's face. The two women gazed
longingly at each other for long minutes. Then Heather leant forward,
planting a gentle, closed eyes, kiss on the lips of the other woman.

The kiss was as soft as a butterfly. Their tongues remained behind on
this first kiss. Heather was taking Jean. In a very real sense, she
had already taken her and was now making her. Jean's eyes were
slipping into ecstatic movements, taking in every inch of her new
lover.

The two moved together and began deeper, more passionate kisses. Their
tongues dueled for dominance between their teeth, their heads rotated
as they ground their faces.

After a lengthy, rolling, necking session, Heather began to feel
Jean's bottom. Visible now very clearly, her ass was a tight bundle of
flesh. There was a sudden series of movements as Heather yanked the
sweat pants clear of Jean's waist and ass.

The naked skin was smooth and pale. Neither woman had been in the sun
for some timehe
soft derriere. At silky touch along the outer thighs brought a sigh of
joy from the brunette.

The red head moved her palm along the skin, sliding it around to the
exposed maidenhood.

"Oh yes!," came a gasp from Jean. A few moments of feeling up the wet
crotch, and the red head stopped.

"Undress for me darling." whispered Heather, who began to strip
herself.

Heather's pale body was quickly exposed to the light. Her brightly red
nipples on her firm knockers were large and erect. Her legs showed
their slender shapes, almost perfectly designed to be spread for
access to her cunt. The curve of her waistline was so supple, her own
hands traced along it in pleasant arousal.

Jean anxiously drew off her clothing, depositing the sweats where they
were within easy reach. Her breasts were large yet firm also with
smaller nipples than Heather's. Her tummy seemed very tight, pulling
in along the ribs above the diaphragm. The bushy pussy was an
irregular triangle in her crotch between her torso and her slightly
too long legs.

They dove back into each others arms, lips embracing wetly. Their
breasts rubbed together, nipples already erect, cushioning their
movements. The four legs curled about one another in a continual
struggle to pull the two groins tighter together.

After wrestling hotly for a length, Heather pulled back and began to
work her way down Jean's neck to her bosom. She sucked at the nipples
and nibbled lightly at the undersides of the breasts.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," became a constant stream from Jean. Her hips
were working in waves up from the bed. She worked up a good sweat
before Heather stopped.

Then Jean began to work on Heather. She chewed lightly on the neck of
the other woman, who craned about in response. The moaning from the
bed became substantial. She dropped along the shoulders, spending
little kisses of tenderness along the arm, then under. She spent a
brief moment suckling at the nipples of Heather's breast, then worked
her way down to the thin red-white hairs of the crotch.

Heather lifted her legs onto Jeans back. Jean slid her tongue into the
offered love hole. Her probing tongue fought into the vagina as far as
she could manage. She worked her right arm around Heather's hips to
bring her fingers to bear just past her nose, at the protruding clit.

Heather was bucking furiously. Her right hand plunged the forefinger
knuckles into her own mouth, clamping her teeth down tight. The left
was pinching and pulling madly at the nipple on her left tit.

Jean snaked the free left hand to Heather's other tit and began to
pinch the swollen red nipple between her fingers, using her thumb to
squeeze the whole tit gently.

Heather's hair tossled back and forth as her head wagged from side to
side.

"Goddamn, Goddamn, suck me, suck me. YES! get that tongue deeper." she
demanded.

The brunette strove to drive her tongue further in, possibly
succeeding in pushing her chin into part of the cleft. She made a
frenzied attempt to increase the stimulation to the clitoris, pinching
it with her forefinger and thumb.

"YES!" screamed Heather. The untamed orgasm came pouring out of her in
every possible tone she could make. Jean lapped up the juices leaking
from her cunt.

"YES!" screamed Heather. Comming a second time, hot on the heels of
the first. Her body slammed up against Jean and down against the bed.

"YES!" screamed Heather. Third time as wildly as the first, legs
straight in the air, hands clenched into angry red fists, arms bent
tightly across her chest.

"aaaaaahhhh," came a final notes moan from the sexually spent woman.

Jean sat up and looked carefully at Heather's face, radiant from post
orgasm buzz.

"Oh love, did you like that?"

"Yes. I always like it when a pretty woman eats me."

"I'm glad. It was so lovely to watch you, darling."

Heather struggled around to Jean's cunt and began to lick. Jean was
still hot, but needed arousal first. Heather, frustrated from the
exertion, compelled her by telepathic force to thorough arousal.

Jean began to react uncontrollably to any touch from Heather. Every
contact point had become an erogenous zone. Jean's body was going wild
with stimuli. She frantically heaved her hips and shook her body as
she pressed her fingers into Jean's dripping cunt. She worked
them around, violating her brutally. She fucked in and out with the
fingers, and quickly, Jean began to come.

Her hands clutched Heather's face into her cunt. Her legs clamped onto
the other woman's head.

"AAAIIIIIEEEEE!" she simply made a primal scream last the duration of
the orgasm. It seemed to last and last and last. When she shuddered to
a stop, she was dripping from sweat, panting madly and stroking, as
this had all begun, Heather's sweet hair.

====

The headache continued but he forced a tendril of thought free,
accepting pain to achieve a breakthrough. The slamming pain grew
inside his skull, but his determination was immense. His eyes lost
vision during the effort.

This time he traced with a thin probe around the edge of the donut
shaped shield.

Delight! Success! The shield was not completely covering the man
pushing him. Once in the nervous system pathways, he easily reached
inside the man's mind and took control.

All the while, his skull was rattling like a can of rocks, and his ears
screaming with associated pain. The first thing he did with his
converted follower, shut off the wire net shield.

Relief came as the pounding in his skull stopped. He could almost see
again. Yes, he thought, that was a door we just passed.

Bob had the man take the battery out of his mind shield. His thoughts
became much easier to read. Almost as lifted from behind a thin panel
of translucent glass.

He gave his escort an opportunity to stop for a cigarette. He hated
the smoke, but needed an excuse to have them pause. He wanted to
think, look for some means of complete escape.

There would be many more 'guards' around. He hadn't seen any easy way
out of the place yet.

====

The women on the bed were lying in each others arms. They whispered
sweet nothings to each other, like high school lovers.

The observer pressed a button cutting off any other watchers.

He walked over to the bed. Unzipping his pants, he dropped them beside
the bed. He climbed up behind the red head. He grabbed her ass and
rolled her onto her back.

She squealed with surprise.

"What is it?" yelped her new lover.

"I don't know!" she shouted back, "I just flipped over, I don't know
why."

The man shoved his organ into her, slapping away her hands.

"What!" She felt something at her crotch, and she was unable to close
her legs. Her head flung itself back. She was startled again by the
fullness her cunt was experiencing.

"Yeah, oh yeah, you fucking bitch. You can take this. Take it all."
the man said. She heard nothing, feeling only a sudden arousal from
her crotch. He pumped away furiously, pinning her arms now above her
head. She couldn't resist, and her body began to betray her. Her arms
raised of their own accord above her head, remained in place against
her will.

She was certain she was pinned by an invisible force, and worried she
was being used by another telepath, the way she used women herself.
But her hips worked in motion, her breath had become excited.

Jean sat mystified to the side, wondering if Heather was having some
sort of fit, and just how to help the woman she loved. She enjoyed
seeing Heather's sexual excitement, Heather had changed her to like
it herself.

Heather worked her head hard against the insides of one arm, then the
other. A moment later she had reached a sudden unexpected height. She
orgasmed with silent desperate groans.

Jean squealed with delight, as she'd been adjusted to do, at Heather's
sexual release. She bent over Heather's face to kiss her for rewarding
her with the pleasant performance. She couldn't see the man either.

He could feel the cramped tightness of her vagina. It thrilled him
to know she not only couldn't stop him, but couldn't resist pleasure
during the rape.

He pounded madly, the heat rose within his balls. The pumping muscles
in his groin began to clutch to release the fluids. His penis felt the
flow in its entire length. He grunted with satisfaction at planting
his seed in the red furred slut.

He rolled from the woman, and slid off the bed.

He was pissed. The programming hadn't held well. She'd felt quite a
bit of the contact from him. This was not good, no, nid the work. There
would be punishment coming for the failure, however small it was.

Dressed again, he left the room.

====

The woman on the other gurney had been named Miki.

They sat in the hall they first met in. Three of the guards and the
original escort for Bob's gurney were sitting together, imagining a
continuous came of poker in the corner. No cards were in evidence, yet
they kept dealing out the imaginary deck, sometimes from the bottom.

He filled her in on his capture and discoveries regarding the
weakness of the shields. She was delighted to hear this news. But
seemed unable to take advantage of it the same way he was.

If she was to get out, she had to go with him. His probes kept
running into walls or screens like the net screen he'd taken off his
head. He tried probing around them to no avail. He kept getting raging
pains in his head.

They remained dependent on things he could learn from the captives.

====

Bambi and Randi woke together. Bob wasn't there.

By the time Betty woke, they'd found the note. Betty was compelled to
make breakfast. She'd come to serve everyone in the house.

After breakfast, Bambi had Betty eat her. She sat back while the long
haired woman sucked and licked her cunt.

"Mind if I use her next?" asked Randi.

"Ah, ah, sure, ah, thing, ah," muttered Bambi. Betty glowed inwardly
knowing she was loved.

There would be no problem waiting for Bob to return.

=====
                         _Overleaf_

The weather ruled the day. It had begun with hot steamy sunshine, but
by noon the rain came down in sheets. Just as Diane had resolved
herself to becoming soaked, the storm abated. Puffy clouds were soon
all that was left in the sky.

Diane was a reporter. She was a good reporter. She believed in the
fourth estate as a branch of government. She was one of those true
believers who thought everyone had a right to know everything,
anywhere.

Her beliefs caused her some problems.

The worst problem was working as an employee for any real News
outfit. The papers almost always had editorial policies she didn't
like. She'd gone from print to broadcast because she figured it would
be different. The reality of much harsher controls in the broadcast
media hit her hard.

So she worked pretty much freelance, kinda. Her job with the 11
O'clock News for the KUTE network was fairly nebulous. When she got
stories they liked, she got paid. Otherwise she was shit outa luck.

She got paid fairly regularly.

The story she was working on came from a strange tip. Some guy called
and said the Biltmor Rehabilitation Institute was committing
experiments on the inmates. Some kind of brain research. He chatted
with her long enough for her to find out he worked for the Institute.

She tried a few phone calls this morning. Every time she got through
to someone important enough to know anything, she was told the
Institute didn't grant interviews. After further research, she found
no record of the Institute in the state registries. No charter, no
license, no known clients, no credentials to support the lofty title.

Her sometimes boss, Mr. Magnum, managing editor, told her to go get
the dirt on them; he'd buy it. She smiled weakly at this, since there
was no way to get the dirt without sneaking in.

So here she was, soaking wet, hot, and uncomfortable. The damn place
was like an old style fortress. Two sides of the property were bounded
by river, a third side had a sizable swamp. The remaining side of the
property had a 20 foot wall along it, with superfluous closed circuit
TV atop.

She'd moored the boat in the swamp. Scratching her left leg, she
regretted not wearing jeans for this outing. She could feel every
inch of her exposed skin screaming for just a few moments of
scratching.

Nothing deterred Diane. Her camera man was trailing behind her. Jorge
had never yet managed to keep up with her on a story. He'd make it
right beside her when it was time to shoot, but she always broke the
ground. This time in a more physical sense than usual.

Jorge was a pretty nice guy. She'd worked with him now for five years.
He'd never made a pass at her either. For camera men, that had to be a
world's record. She wascamera men tend, she believed, to
be on the make all the time. Except Jorge. Sometimes she wished he
was.

Jorge was a true blessing for her career too. He had to read her mind
sometimes to catch the angles he got on film. She rarely had to edit
out enormous quantities of footage he'd taken. He almost always ran
the camera perfectly for her face shots, and never let her profile
look bad. Always, he managed to stop filming just as or before any
flubs she made. Nice to have a psychic camera man. She smiled at the
thought.

Jorge was immensely interested in this story too. For the first time
he'd volunteered to do some of the research leg work on a story she
was working. Odd for him, demanding every word the informant uttered
verbatim, hanging over her shoulder to hear what she'd learn.

A bird leapt into the air before her. She managed to avoid jumping or
screaming with surprise. Startled for Diane meant 'drop for cover'.
She remembered covering riots downtown in her first year as a
professional. The constant hazard taught her caution rather than
fear. It helped over the years.

The wood she was trying to sneak through silently was making every
effort to shout out her location. If it wasn't the damn birds, it was
twigs, if not twigs, it was scratchy underbrush. The moist earth
beneath her feet would sink away, leaving her 4-5 inches in the dirt,
almost sucking her sneakers off. The branches she chose to hold for
support gave way violently, shaking volumes of leaves above.

When she finally got to the open fields of the Institute, she was
relieved to escape the jungle like swamp. Jorge said nothing, just
waited her directions.

There were statues standing about on a manicured lawn. The water in
the fountains sparkling in the intermittent sunlight. Wait, those
weren't statues. They were all wearing white coats, white jump suits,
or white whatever.

Jorge pointed to a few rows of coniferous bushes in a line towards the
house. House?, mansion more like. The thing was four stories tall. The
triangular shapes above the top windows made the place look like the
setting for a gothic horror, except for the lack of gargoyles. Maybe
the frightful statuary would be there when she got closer.

They moved towards the bush line.

====

Bob and Miki lay hidden in the storage room all night. The frantic
sounds of search activity had force them to send the remaining captive
guards out to join in the hunt.

The room was only searched once, by a single guard, who was easily
convinced of its secure condition. Bob smiled, it hadn't been as
difficult as the first time to get through the thought shield.

Amazingly Bob felt very horny. Odd reaction to being so severely in
danger.

He remembered a car accident years ago. During the incident he'd only
thought about how it would ruin his afternoon. The time he'd been
mugged, well some guy tried anyway, all Bob had thought of then was
how he'd be getting home.

The amazing thing was, he could probably take Miki. She'd probably
never be able to stop him. He figured Bambi had the stronger will
power, or talent, or whatever. He stopped himself. There was a time
and place for screwing around. This wasn't one of them.

The search had moved on, they had probably concluded Bob and Miki
reached the outer grounds by now.

It was time to try again.

contiuned in part 14