Ring of Truth
Blog 2. The origin of the ring

Copyright© 2007 by obohobo

Erotica Sex Story: Blog 2. The origin of the ring - When clearing an old attic Derek finds a ring and a notebook. Wearing the ring gives him the power to read the thoughts of others and make them answer questions completely truthfully. The notebook tells of a previous owner's experiences with the ring over two centuries previously. Derek decides to publish his observations on wearing the ring with those in the notebook as a series of 'blogs'

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Science Fiction  

13th July 2004

I arrived home at nine o'clock, Dad was watching a big football match on TV and from his thoughts, I knew he was totally engrossed in it so I went to my room and took out the little book that came with the ring. The pages were seer and brown and, apart from the title page, the writing spidery and microscopic in size. Even with a magnifying glass it was difficult to read and it was only when I tried my X10 hand-lens that I could make out the words fairly clearly but with that amount of magnification, I could only read a few letters at a time. A better method of reading the text was needed. How the author managed to write so small, probably with a quill or a steel nibbed pen, I would never know.

"What if I... ?" An idea came to me. I placed the book, open to the first two pages on the scanner and scanned it into PhotoShop. By enlarging it to A4 landscape size and using the grayscale, levels, contrast and unsharp mask controls, I was able to read the text clearly on the screen.

I read the first page carefully.

Be warned!!

The Ring of Truth

Joshua Matlock September 22nd AD 1768

Being now 74 years of age and daily becoming more infirm but with my faculties intact I have decided I have no further need of the ring that has served me so well over the years. Rather than allow it to fall into the hands of my unscrupulous relatives, I will package it and store it with such trinkets as have been left behind by various mistresses and my newly departed Beatrice, in a place where it is unlikely they will find it. God willing, I will in these pages show how the ring has been of some service to me and it will help my mind re-live some of the experiences of my past. The account will, I am sure, only give brief glimpses of such services and the titillation's and rewards I had from its influence.

To whosoever finds this ring, I must give warning before he, or even she, wears it.

The ring, which I call the Ring of Truth, has two most unusual and unique properties. Firstly it allows the wearer to listen to the thoughts of those nearby without them being aware of it happening, and secondly, any question asked by the wearer is always answered, and answered truthfully and with complete honesty.

"That's why Jean said she would like to shower with me and then have sex," I muttered to myself. "She would probably have made up some white lie otherwise."

At first sight it may seem a pleasant diversion to eavesdrop on the private thoughts of others and so often it is, but not infrequently, the thoughts are directed against you. Thus in order to preserve the knowledge of your ability, you will need quickly to become inured to hearing the black scurrilous things others think about you. In the early days of my possessing the ring, I was sorely shocked by the unspoken opinions that personages I believed to be my friends, thought about my appearance, my ability, my work and my finances. You must harden your heart to such thoughts and behave as though you have not heard them.

Think twice or thrice before asking any question especially if in the company of several others. The truthful and honest answer you receive may well not be the one you wish for and can lead to embarrassment for all concerned. Even seemingly innocent questions can have unexpected answers. For example at a ball in the Manor House, I asked a young lady if she would care to dance. "No!" she retorted loudly and gave her reason by calling me a blaggard and worse. This took place in front of many of the gentry and my peers who were present at the function. Not only was I made to look a complete and utter fool, the lady herself was completely flustered by her outburst and had to retire immediately.

Having counselled my warnings to you, whoever you are and in whatever time, do not hesitate to use the ring to your advantage. Knowing your opponent's thoughts is a great advantage in business and being able to read the minds of ladies, makes their seduction very much easier and saves wasting time on those that will not be receptive to you.

Thinking back to the events earlier in the day, I realised how lucky I had been not to alienate Jean by asking questions that could have provoked an outburst. Apart from the two concerning the shower and having sex, which I knew she wanted from her thoughts, I'd only asked straightforward things like, "Where would you like this box put? Shall I dump this lot?" which she could answer normally.

"How'd you get on at Miss Read's?" Mother asked when she arrived home. I'd decided to call it a day and noted the PhotoShop settings ready for scanning the remainder of the book and went to the kitchen to make a mug of Horlicks. She'd just returned from her bridge meeting.

"Fine, cleared the attic and got much of the other stuff into the skip. How'd you get on at Bridge?"

Mother gave a half smile and said, "Won more than I lost." <<"Good job he doesn't know what else I played with. Jack Pendergast's prick. That was a real nice game. Not like yours.">> Mother turned towards her husband watching the replays of the match. "Who won?" she asked him although she wasn't at all interested in his reply. Her mind was still reliving the fucking she'd had at the 'bridge club.' I was pretty shocked when I took in the details and saw the images she was projecting. Never in my life would I have suspected mother of infidelity let alone some of the off-beat things she did. The Bridge games were nothing more than sex swap parties between her, Mary and Jack Pendergast and Fred Bassett. I knew them all and until now thought them respectable people. Never would I have suspected anything of their sexual proclivities. I almost blurted out a comment but just in time I remembered the warning in Joshua's book and tried to compose myself.

"Think I'll have an early night Mum. I'm not used to being a labourer."

"Did you get a pizza or something for your dinner Derek?" Mother called as I started up the stairs.

"No, Jean cooked steaks."

"Oh so it's Jean now is it. You watch yourself my lad!" Mother laughed at me, "Some old ladies like to have a toy-boy." Little did she realise how near the truth that was.

For a while I lay in the darkness waiting for sleep that wouldn't come. I gently stroked my prick as I replayed the scenes from mother's thoughts. Perhaps I should have been more shocked than I was but I surmised that, like Jean, mother wasn't getting the sex she wanted or needed at home. "Good luck to you mother," I muttered but I felt sorry for dad. He worked hard to earn enough money to keep us and I wasn't going to be contributing to the family income now either. "Just don't get caught mother or you may be in for a rough time," I thought to myself. My mind was also full of the ring, its possibilities, and its dangers. How would I use it? And for what purpose?

About eleven o'clock I heard Jenny, my sister, come in and go into her room next to mine. Curious but at the same time feeling rather guilty at spying on my own sister, I placed the ring against the wall and, in the quietness, I picked up her thoughts fairly easily. She'd had sex with Ralph but that was pretty much to be expected. They were due to get married in a month's time and were fixing up a house ready for their life together. However, although sex came into her mind several times mostly her thoughts concentrated on the wedding plans and the work needing to be done on the house. I took the ring off and eventually drifted off to sleep.

Early next morning, much earlier than I would normally get up, I fired up the computer and started scanning in the book. It was much quicker now that I knew the settings to use to get the optimum clarity from the pages. These I saved as JPG files in a protected folder because there was no way I could enable the OCR programme to read the peculiar handwriting and I didn't want anyone else to see them. Not than any of my family ever came into the room without asking, nor would they dream of accessing my computer. In any case Jenny was the only one who knew enough about computers to even turn the thing on. Father left for work at 6:30 and when I heard Jenny go into the bathroom at seven, I slipped the ring on again and went to the downstairs loo and then started the coffee machine going. While making toast I reminded myself not to ask questions when Jenny came down.

 
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