Chronic User

by

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Coercion, Drunk/Drugged, Heterosexual, Science Fiction, .

Desc: Sex Story: Hank steals a device which lets him control time and uses it, along with mind-altering drugs, to molest his parole officer Katherine.

© 2002 All Rights Reserved

Author's Disclaimer: This is the nasty, vulgar, misogynistic story of a very bad man doing very evil things to an undeserving woman using a time stop machine and mind-altering drugs. If it's going to offend you, don't read it. If you read it anyway, don't come crying to me.


My name is Hank Pearson. I was a thief. Technically, I still am, since I make my money by taking other people's stuff when they aren't looking--I just no longer take much of a risk of being caught. A shame, really, because I used to love the thrill of my profession. I've been able to find other thrills though.

The cause of my lack of risk and my current source of thrills comes from the last thing I stole 'honestly'. I don't know what it is or how it works. All I know is that when I attach the head piece to the base of my skull and turn the knob on the wrist piece, magic happens.

You see, it's some sort of time machine. I don't mean forward and backward in time, H. G. Wells kind of stuff. I mean it slows down or speeds up the rate at which I travel through time relative to the rest of the world. I turn it all the way left, and I can play for hours in a single millisecond. I turn it right, and the world whips by me in fast forward. It is a major trip!

Once I figured out what I had and how to use it, I immediately saw that I was in for a hell of a time, and so was anyone I wanted to fuck around with. I would be enjoying it much more than they would, though.

The first person I chose to toy with was a given. I had an appointment with her the day after I stole the thing. I stopped by the medical center and picked up some supplies in a leisurely half second, then I was off to meet my parole officer, Katherine Kirkland.

Now, when I first found out that she was my parole officer, I figured somebody up in heaven must like me. She was hot--damn hot! Luscious dark hair, a body that didn't quit, and a face that could have been air brushed. I was thinking I had it made! I could romance her and have a grand old time while continuing in my chosen profession.

That was before I realized she was a bitch on wheels, the strictest, most no-nonsense officer ever to come out of the criminal justice system. She was so damned uptight that when I stole a pen from her office, she actually put it in my file!

I made sure to be right on time for my appointment. My bag easily made it through security, since I was moving through time much more slowly than the man at the X-ray machine. Soon I was outside Ms. Kirkland's office. I put myself back in sync with the rest of the world, knocked and went in.

There was Officer Kirkland, looking as hot and as cold as ever. She was on the phone and motioned for me to sit. I waited. Katherine was a serious coffee addict so I didn't have to wait long. She went for her caffeine fix and I twisted the knob left. For every second that ticked by in the real world, I had 100,000. I pulled out the stuff I had borrowed from the med center: a pair of forceps and several small but potent pills.

I carefully maneuvered the first pill past her slightly open lips to rest in a sea of coffee at the back of her throat. I resumed my seat and my place in time, forcing myself not to watch her swallow.

She gave a little cough and a curious look crossed her face but as far as I could tell, despite a slight irritation, everything had gone as planned. Even the irritation worked to my advantage. She finished her phone call and almost immediately went for another sip and I went for another pill.

Again she swallowed. Again she coughed. She cleared her throat.

"Excuse me," she said, getting up and going to the water cooler.

"No problem," said I with suppressed glee as she tossed her head back and then froze. I dropped the last two pills into her throat and then indulged myself a bit, grabbing hold of her ass. Damn but it was nice--full and firm. I slowed my time a bit more, enough that not even her nerves would have time to be stimulated, and hiked up her skirt and took a peek at her snatch: trimmed, pink, and waiting.

"Oh yeah, baby. You're mine!" I told it, then replaced her clothing and resumed my position. Officer Kirkland gulped and spun around, looking for my hand on her ass. It wasn't, of course.

"You O.K. Officer Kirkland?" I asked.

She glared at me, suspicious.

"I'm fine. Do you have your employment logs?"

"Sure do!" I said, pulling our my sheets as she headed back to her desk. Before she quite had time to sit, though, I made another hard left and once again I was faster than her tactile response. I slipped her panties down, took some astroglide from my bag and slicked up that pink pussy of hers. I wanted her to think she was getting all wet for me.

The look on her face as she sat down and realized how wet her panties were was priceless. Her eyes got huge!

"Are you sure you're all right, Ms. Kirkland? I asked.

"Uh, I'm fine. Fine... Logs. Now."

"Here you go," I said, handing her my employment records. She started going through them, making sure every t was crossed and i was dotted like she always did. But by the time she was half way through, she started blinking a lot. Her stiff set shoulders started to relax. Her medicine was kicking in.

"Is it warm in here or is it just me?" she asked.

"It does seem awfully warm," I told her.

"I thought so! I should tell maintenance about that!"

"After our interview, right?" I asked.

"Huh? Oh yeah. After. Logs," she said and went back to work.

"Uh Oh!" she said, tapping her pen on my last sheet. "No signature!"

Of course it wasn't signed--I hadn't gone to work since I stole my toy. But now was the moment of truth. Had the pills gotten her pliant enough to accept my excuse?

"I'm sorry, Officer Kirkland," I lied. "My boss had to take off early and he didn't get a chance to look it over."

"Hmmm... Okay. No biggie. Jus get him t'sign it nex week."

"Why thanks, Ms. Kirkland. I thought you'd be mad."

I smiled at her and for the first time since I was assigned to her, she smiled back.

"No, I'm not mad at all!" she declared. "Just very, very warm..."

I turned the knob left again, enough that she wouldn't see me move but not so much that she couldn't feel me reach between her legs and stroke her moist mound.

When I resumed my place in time, she glanced at her crotch and blushed confused about the pleasant tingle down there no doubt. Between the drugs and selective sub-temporal stimuli, I was well on the way to making my uptight parole officer horny as a bitch in heat.

"Are you all right Ms. Kirkland?" I asked with a herculean effort not to smirk.

"Um, yeah... I'm fine... fine," she said, blushing all the harder. "Lessee... Drug test. You gotta pee in a cup. I'll call a male officer t'compny you."

Now if an other officer came in, it wouldn't be me who would be filling a dixie cup, but it would certainly spoil my fun. Luckily, Katherine was quite easily distracted by this point.

"Before you do that, um, I think there might be something I should tell you," I said, trying to look hesitant.

"Whazzat?" she asked, hand stopping in mid-grab for the phone.

"Well, I'm not sure if it falls under your jurisdiction as my parole officer or not."

"Now looky here, misser," she said, head wobbling on her shoulders as she shook a finger at me. "Everything in yer life falls unner my scrutiny. Yer ass is mine <snort-giggle>."

"Well, then, I guess I have to tell you... I think I've developed psychic powers."

She blinked twice at me, then busted a gut laughing.

"No, really. I'm serious," I said once she calmed down. "I can prove it. Think of a number--any number--write it down and I'll tell you what it is."

She snorted and giggled again.

"Iss a joke, right?"

"Nope! Come on. Do it, if you don't believe me!"

"All right, all right," she said, picking up a stack of post-its and holding them close.

"No peeking!" she admonished and wrote down a number. I didn't even have to use the machine to see it was a seven. It was obvious from the pen movements.

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