Chapter 3
Linda Webster, resplendent in a cock-stirring thong, strolled onto the sundeck for two prime hours of tanning. The blazing rays made it compulsory to don a pair of sunglasses. The mirrored lenses, accessorized by the sheltering straw hat, provided Linda suitable camouflage. Spying upon her affluent neighbors and plotting where next to strike comprised her afternoon agenda.
Hypnosis definitely offered a unique edge. Her diamond pendant was priceless in its ability to enslave at will. She and Sheila had twin pendants-cut from the same stone. The old woman who had sold it to them attested to its mystical powers. Given their wildly successful run, her endorsement proved correct.
The area was populated with many sun-worshiping singles who fearlessly exposed their bronzed flesh. Linda noted some exceptionally built men in attendance, plus a few luscious women. The dress code was Upscale Sexy. Designer labels were worn with decadent aplomb. Cleavage was flaunted to advantage. Bulging biceps and magnificent pectorals were on heart-stopping display. The assemblage of beautiful bodies was oiled and angled for even exposure.
Linda spotted a vacant lounge chair and reclined. She made quite a production of arranging her sleek limbs naturally, to create attention. Beads of sweat cropped at her brow and at the base of her neck. Exuding moisture was another enticement.
Most people were engrossed in listening to their tape players and reading paperback novels. A few engaged in conversation. Linda netted a few furtive glances, but she had competition. Women of model-quality graced the padded chairs-several of stunning beauty.
The rivalry did not bother Linda. She patted her canvas bag. The sparkle at the bottom provided her added reassurance. She came well-armed.
A tall, dark-haired hunk intercepted her seductive frequency. The sun had kissed his Mediterranean skin. His dark brown hair was slicked back by either mousse or water. Although the wraparound sunglasses screened his eyes, the bottom portion of his face seemed ruggedly familiar. She could not place his identity. By that time, she and her half-sister had understandably crossed paths with many of the building's occupants.
Linda refrained from promoting his interest with a bewitching smile. All in good time, was her motto. Reeling in her quarry on an accelerated basis defied her custom. Linda firmly believed in exercising restraint. She saw nothing worthwhile in expedition. Enslavement was a complicated procedure. Prospective slaves had to want her without reservation. They were inexorably lured into her web, consigned to servitude. Nonchalance was her signature blueprint. She courted disaster by expediting matters.
The victim must make the first move, she ruled. Approaching her and initiating conversation had to be of his own volition.
Linda forced herself to look away and concentrate on additional candidates. The assortment of studs fascinated her. Linda loved the plethora of beefcake, whose muscular development differed from man to man. They surveyed her and the others, frequently returning for an in-depth study. Linda dared them to feast their eyes on her. She had everything to gain.
A Scandinavian god glimpsed her from across the deck. He declined checking out the opposition. Linda received his undivided attention. He reminded her of a tiger with muscles tightly coiled, ready to leap in a flash.
Another fair-haired bruiser paid her notice. He lifted himself from a prone position and squinted at her. His lack of optical protection revealed cerulean eyes.
Linda suppressed her smile. Both aspirants corresponded to her criterion. Their expensive-looking outfits and their gold Swiss wristwatches didn't tell the whole story. Anyone could impersonate an affluent individual. One had to have the obvious breeding that surfaced in their style and manner to authenticate their status. She predicted that they were either young attorneys or physicians.
She went to steal a glance at her original choice-the dark-haired brute with the mirrored sunglasses-and ascertained his desertion. A fabulous redhead occupied his seat. It mattered little to Linda. She had workable material.
She settled on the lounge, projecting total oblivion. The needs of her admirers had to simmer. By the time her flesh dripped with sweat, one would gather the courage to press her for an introduction. She was equally unfazed by the possibility of jointly taking them on. Linda could as easily place two under her control.
Men, in her experience, thrived upon the pursuit. A woman who freely surrendered to them was not nearly as appealing as one who feigned disinterest. Their egotistical belief that women deliberately built barriers for them to bunt as a prelude to subservience had held through the ages. Linda not only subscribed to that theory. She routinely constructed each encounter around it.
Presenting herself as a hot package was something at which Linda scrupulously worked. The maintenance of a million-dollar tan and wardrobe to match required craftsmanship. Linda flattered herself a genius in that category.
Without moving her head, she spied upon her suitors. The dark lenses afforded her confidentiality. They did not attempt to disguise their thirst. They gazed openly at her, apparently designing an elaborate seduction.
Linda missed having Sheila at her side. The two of them made a lethal combination. Her half-sister was far more voluptuous, a walking tease. Paired with Linda, Sheila added value to the equation.
Her command of hypnosis surpassed Linda's. Sheila had learned to induct a slave with greater speed and efficiency. She constantly explored new arenas in which to enhance her skills. Her half-sister was unafraid of experimentation, ultimately to her detriment. Sheila's recklessness cost her a year's worth of freedom. During that time, she served Sam Andriola.
Linda eschewed thinking about that scoundrel. He had clearly taken control of her half-sister's will and enlisted her as his partner-in-crime. He also became her lover. Sheila was helplessly entranced, forced to work in concert with a man she unconsciously detested. Sam erased her trepidation of him-along with all memory of enslavement.
Fortunately, Linda tracked them down and tricked Sam into releasing Sheila from his dominion. She enacted a similar ruse-lowering Sam's guard, then subjecting him to her pendant's power. Taken by surprise, he was compelled to obey her. Linda removed his mental lock on Sheila, then planted a posthypnotic suggestion that banned him from recalling the event. The two sisters promptly vanished before Sam reawakened.
Having spent the last several months re-indoctrinating her half-sister into the world of free enterprise, Linda felt rewarded. Sheila had previously shared her life; that adventure now continued, beyond the debacle of Sam Andriola. Linda wished never to encounter that cretin again.
The sun blazed to an intolerable brilliance. Linda broiled beneath its punishing rays. The heat mounted between her legs. The thought of being slowly filled with a hard cock monopolized her brain. Humping some well-endowed male preceded all else. Linda couldn't shake the urge. The sensual ambiance of the sundeck heightened her libido.
Her brand of hypnosis could not be publicly conducted. Linda had to lure them from that sea of flesh to a private setting, where she could weave her spell. To achieve an optimum trance, the background had to be without diversions and stumbling blocks.
Linda purposely turned and presented the men steamy smiles. She deciphered their raw expressions as confirmation of appetite. They awaited her signal. Linda gathered her things into the canvas bag-suntan lotion, towel, paperback novel-and headed for the exit. Counting on them to follow her, she didn't look back.
The stairway to the hall was air-conditioned. Linda received an abrupt chill the moment she set foot onto the carpeted steps. A premonition also struck her-a dread of something going awry. Linda ordinarily dismissed such notions, yet that one refused to evaporate.
Approaching the elevator station, she devised how best to pick up the thread of continuity. Once the men were close, she would remove her bikini top.
Let them see her tits, she whimsically thought. Let them gaze at her unraveling nudity. That was their admission price to her world of subjugation.
The elevator light blinked, notifying her that an available car would transport her to a desired floor. Covertly, she glanced over her shoulder to verify whether those men were in pursuit of her. She had given indication of her acquiescence. Her frank appraisal of them could not have been mistaken.
The door slid back, revealing the dark-haired stud with the mirrored shades who'd evacuated that flesh emporium. Linda smirked. The precursor to her fantasies had reemerged. The jutting shape tucked in his skimpy swimsuit fired her imagination. She strutted into the compartment and prepared to depress the button.
Within seconds of the door closing and their descent, he accessed the control panel. His large thumb hit the emergency stop. Linda's pulse jumped. He was overt in his goal. Sex in the elevator seemed a refreshing departure from her original design.
It was then that he removed his reflective eye cover.
Linda let out a startled gasp. "Oh, my God."
"Aren't you glad to see me, Linda?" Sam Andriola asked, chuckling.
Why hadn't she recognized him? She had been struck by a sense of acquaintanceship, yet failed to dip into her memory banks.
"Obviously regular visitations to the gym and sunbathing have altered my looks," he remarked. "Greasing back my hair further disguised my appearance. Good. Perhaps your half-sister will make the same mistake."
Linda trembled. "How did you manage to-"
"-overcome your post-hypnotic command?" he clucked. "That was very sloppy work on your part. Your haste in fleeing the scene without taking the precaution of ensuring my obedience was a miscalculation. You succeeded in liberating Sheila, but I aborted the rest of your instructions. I would think an accomplished mesmerist of your caliber would not have left anything to chance."
Linda recovered her composure. She felt nothing but hatred for the man. "I only did what I thought ethical. You tricked my half-sister into serving you-all for financial gain. You had no right to shackle her will."
"It appears you're operating a business competitive with mine," he reminded, "right here in this building. I'm flattered that you've mimicked my style."
"With a notable difference. Sheila is not under my power. Her participation is totally voluntary."
He scowled. "I'm in love with Sheila. Her departure has caused me considerable pain."
"I don't buy that. Your affection for her is tied to greed."
"Your brand of morality is galling. Only a hypocrite would view it in that fashion."
Sam had Linda backed against the wall. Her only hope of escape was to grab her diamond pendant and re-invoke her spell. Sam's menacing stance, coupled with his vile expression, amounted to danger. Her canvas bag, which she dropped, lay at her feet.
"You obviously want her back," Linda said, concocting a scheme to fetch her weapon.
"That will definitely happen," he confidently spoke, "with your help."
"Oh? How do you propose to effect my betrayal?" Her fingers inched toward the tote.
Sam brandished a gold St. Christopher's medal in his palm.
Linda's heart pumped to a staccato beat. "No. You wouldn't!"
Sam kicked her canvas bag out of range. "I know you've got your diamond pendant. Your habits are known to me."
"Sam, I won't permit you to enslave me."
"You have no choice, babe," he said, slipping it around his neck. "Negotiation is not an option."
"I'll scream," she warned, cowering from his touch.
Sam chortled. "Who's going to hear you, babe? We're between floors. Besides, your soul will be mine in a matter of seconds."
"I won't cooperate," she vehemently insisted. "You can't force me into compliance."
"Wanna bet?" He moved perilously close. Linda was disallowed passage. The medallion glimmered on his broad, furry chest. Muscled arms flanked her. He breathed calmly onto her face.
"No," Linda firmly repeated, averting her gaze. She would not submit to the conversion. "Get away from me. I despise you!"
"You can't resist it," he assertively remarked. His thumbs pressed into her bare shoulders, compelling her to look. "The light catches the refractions. A rainbow leaps at you. Those dazzling colors are emitting unignorable sparks." His voice deepened, achieving authority. "You have no alternative but to gaze at it."
Linda shook her head. She was determined to hold her ground. Sam's gripping voice, however, punctured her determination. His baritone broke through layers of conditioned resistance. The reality of what he attempted to accomplish frightened her; un-like Sheila, she had never relinquished ownership of her will to another hypnotist.
"Obey me," Sam softly repeated.
Linda's eyes unconsciously drifted to the medallion resting on that well-developed chest. The gold glittered against those dark ringlets. Sam's unshakeable command defeated her defense system. Refuting his orders became useless.
Sam watched Linda yield to him. Her eyes centered on his medallion without wavering. He deepened her initiation with phrases beyond her intellectual scope-a parlance he gleaned from the experts. Her vacuous outlook informed him she was his to instruct.
He regarded her with contempt. That bitch had caused irreparable damage between him and Sheila Davenport. She deserved no mercy. Exacting his revenge would be sweet. As fair compensation for what she'd done, he would enlist her as an instrument in an elaborate scheme to regroup him with Sheila. Linda would be obligated to help him until he exhausted her usefulness. Sam had no desire to retain her services beyond that term. She would be disposed of at the expiration of her purpose.
"I am your master now, as I was once your half-sister's," he advised her. "I govern your subconscious. You have no strength to reject my orders, even if they compromise your personal ethics. Is that understood?"
Linda blankly nodded.
"Good. When I summon you, there will be no resistance. You will readily appear before me."
Linda vacantly concurred.
Sheila was wiser since her release. Outwitting her would require considerable effort. Sam was prepared to wait. Expediting any plan would be foolish.
"You must keep me apprised of your half-sister's whereabouts, her current habits, her acquaintances," he went on. "No detail must escape my knowledge. Our objective is to re-indoctrinate her. We must trick her into gazing at my medallion and reestablish her servility."
Linda displayed no sign of protest.
"I could delete this episode from your memory, but I won't. I want you to be tormented by the hold I have over you. You will suffer, knowing you are my slave. The futility of residing in my control will eat at you-yet nothing can be done to combat it. Naturally, I prohibit you from disclosing that to Sheila. She must never grasp that you are my agent."
Linda's face was devoid of emotion.
"I will awaken you. Remember, rebellion is not within your power. Everything you tell me must have validity. You are forbidden from deceiving or disobeying me. Above all, you are outlawed from using your pendant on me. Furthermore, you will prevent Sheila from employing hers. If she attempts to disable me, you must stop her."
To end his conscription, he kissed her. Although Sam had no fondness for the woman who'd previously foiled his plans, her trance had to conclude with some form of physical contact. A mere brush of his lips sufficed.
Linda blinked rapidly afterward. She gazed into Sam's eyes and felt a dull ache in her stomach. He'd done something to her mind-recruited her for some malign purpose. Her brain tingled from the directions he inserted. Her repulsion of him, however, underwent a transformation. She gazed at him in a new light.
"You may go," he muttered. "I have no further need of you today."
Linda blocked his path to the control panel. "Not yet." She caressed his hair-rough wrist, then steered it from the button. "Please don't leave." She brushed against his powerful chest. Her fingers skimmed his crotch. She traced the outline of his cock in his swimsuit. "I want you, Sam. Here. Now."
Sam closely examined her. The side effect of hypnosis was instilling an insatiable appetite for sex. Linda was fully aroused and in want of a partner.
"Why should I?" he scoffed. "You've caused me nothing but trouble." He swept her hand away. "Return to the sundeck and select one of those golden studs to satisfy you."
"I don't want them," she murmured in a hurt voice. "I want you."
Sam frowned. "You will act on my directives. Your current assignment is to orchestrate Sheila's enslavement. Fulfilling your sexual desires is not part of our agreement. I don't crave you, Linda-only your half-sister."
Linda would not be censured. "You can't abandon me now. I'm on fire-ready to explode." She dipped into his swimsuit and enclosed his flaccid cock. "Don't refuse me, Sam. I'll go out of my mind if I can't have some of this." She massaged his limp member. "You know what happens when a slave is revived. You understand the consequences of mesmerizing someone. Don't be cruel about it, Sam. Please, I beg of you."
Her groveling pleased him. Linda's impertinence was gone, replaced by an unquenchable lust. "It isn't pleasant being on the opposite side of the medallion, eh? Think of all the people you've looted, Linda-their sheer frustration when you lifted your spell."
Linda stroked his shaft, coaxing it to expand. For some inexplicable reason, Sam was the only man who could gratify her. She would not permit his departure in her hour of need. His virile, Italian looks made her wet. In the past, Sam was rated fiendishly attractive; at present, Linda judged him totally irresistible. She contemplated his strapping, muscular body between her legs, along with his deep thrusts. Her pussy ached for his huge cock. "Come on, Sam. Please."
Her persistence wore thin. He considered slapping her hand. Her gentle tugging, however, started to affect him. Those small, delicate fingers stimulated him. His cock slowly enlarged. Pondering her hysterical frame of mind, he resigned to give her what she yearned.
"Yes," Linda panted, feeling him thicken in her clutch. Without soliciting his permission, she dropped to her knees. Sam stretched to her eager face. Seeing him grow made her even more horny. He was truly big. Under her effervescent scrutiny, his cock assumed its staggering dimensions. "You do want me."
"Suck my dick," he ordered.
Linda promptly took him into her mouth. She latched herself to that solid member. Mmmmm. Her tongue afforded him a curling reception. She licked it with doting strokes. His manly taste appeased her palate. She punctuated those lashes with hot, demanding sucks.
"Christ," Sam thought, surrendering to the wrap of those feverish lips. He pumped Linda's face, increasing her intake. She cocksucked rather well. In and out of that tight, moist ring he went. His thing emerged covered with foam. He may not have wanted a blow job a moment ago, but did now. Linda gave admirable head. "Yeah, baby. Swallow it. Blow me."
The size of Sam's cock wasn't an imposition. Linda guided him into her throat. She yanked his swim trunks over his hips so that his balls were at her disposal. Framing his crotch, she elevated his sac with her thumbs. A thrilling rotation was achieved.
He observed the disappearance of his lengthy shaft. Linda took him in hungry mouthfuls. Bubbly saliva dripped from his cock. Drafting her had its advantages. The pull of those lips defied description. Her oral skill enthralled him. "Yeah, baby. Suck it." He leaned toward that ravenous expression, then groaned. Linda consumed him whole.
Linda gave him just enough head to kindle his enthusiasm. She shot up on her feet. Leaning against the elevator wall, she splayed her thighs. "Now, baby. You're going to fuck me."
Dragging back the scant panel of her bikini bottoms with a finger, she revealed her damp pussy. Fragrant dew clung to the pink borders of those lips. Sam inhaled her urgency. He could not neglect Linda's plea for satisfaction.
"Okay, bitch, you want me to fuck you-here it comes," he muttered, then stepped between those split legs. He went smoothly into that moist cunt.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," Linda moaned as that hard thing bore into her. Sam allowed her no period of adjustment. His big dick sliced through her hot squish. Her features contorted as he sank to the hilt.
He strongly pumped her, lodging that luscious butt to the wall. His groin pummeled her. "Do you like it rough? Huh? Want me to fuck you hard?"
"Yes," she moaned, enjoying the way he filled her cunt. He almost reached her womb. "Ohhhhh. More, Sam. I want it all."
Sam comprehended her affliction. Her horniness was intractable. His stiff, driving cock scratched that maddening itch. He profited from her frustration. Her pussy functioned as a hot receptacle.
He plunged into that wet, spongy cunt. His balls slapped her velvety flesh. He peered into those pleasure-petitioning eyes with relish. Linda couldn't curb the wild impulse to fuck. Her pussy seized him with untamed fervor. Her swiveling hips endeavored to milk him.
Linda hugged herself to his furry chest. His pubic thatch flattened against hers. She savored the deep push of his cock. Contrary to her abhorrence of him, she loved the sex.
Sam could feel her tremors as he pumped that wild pussy. Linda's orgasm was within reach. He speared into that embraceable warmth, allowing her to achieve that celestial plane. On a sexual level, he further imprisoned her. Chains were attached not only to his will, but his cock as well.
Linda's fingers descended into his shoulder. Her lips formed an anguished circle. "Oh, Sam. Ohhhhhhhh."
She shuddered against him. Without hesitation, he spent himself into those squeezing cunt lips. His jism gushed into her thirsty snatch.
"Ugggghhhhhh," he groaned, wincing. "Uggghhhh. Ugghhhhhh."
He filled that cozy pocket with the proof of his gratification. Slowly, he withdrew. The bulbous head of his cock emerged with a creamy coating.
Linda sighed. Her pleasure had never soared to that elevation. Sam enormously satisfied her. "Ohhhhhhh. That was unbelievable."
He stuffed his equipment inside his swimsuit. "If you want more, bitch, you're going to have to earn it. I won't service you at the snap of your fingers."
"I hate you," she hissed.
"You're entitled, providing you don't forget my role in your pathetic existence. I'm your master. You're compelled to do as I insist."
His animosity floored her. She wanted to slap his face, yet realized its vainness. "I'll even the score-somehow."
"Plot all you wish, but it simply won't happen. I'm the resident expert. Your blunder has meant my prosperity." He openly gloated. "Your half-sister will soon be mine."