Chapter 11: High Acid Content

A warm summer day in Brooklyn. The sun was high. Sounds of the city had dropped off as Bob walked into the park. The breeze wasn't providing much relief.

The park had drawn him, pulling him away from his ride. Something called to him, something with presence. He released the driver, sending him back to his own trivial errands. There were plenty of other chauffeurs if he wanted one.

Today's journey started by searching for the hit men's boss. Nothing had come of it. The man, it turned out, died in a brutal argument shortly after ordering the attack on Bob. As a path of investigation, it totally washed out.

Bob walked the wide paths, relishing the break from his search. There would be other leads to follow soon. He'd have to let Jorge know about this. The death seemed to indicate someone was carefully covering their trail, afraid of discovery.

He paused to watch the leaves above, still in the sun, as the world passed by below. He wondered what happened to the breeze he'd felt earlier.

A hundred yards away, a kid with oriental ethnic origins stood. He held a rifle by a tree, trying to line Bob up in his sights. The rifle was an Air Force survival.22, one of those little jobs that folds up into its own stock. Difficult to hit targets at any distance with, but easy enough to conceal.

The trigger squeezed, the sound a sharp snap. The shot missed.

Before he could fire again, Bob had him. Bob scanned through his mind looking for clues to the hidden mastermind. Once again, it led to another man who ordered him offed. The kid had been told to watch for Bob where the dead man used to hang out. This time the trail would lead to China town.

Bob was astounded the kid managed to follow him. As he searched the boy's brain, he found enormous experience at working marks. A pickpocket and child con artist for the last three years, this was just the first time he'd been asked to kill someone.

The killing would make him important.

It would gain his membership to the Tong. He would rise from the ranks of petty thief to someone with power if he succeeded. Bob felt a little bemused at the ambition, to be a bigger minnow in the same pond. Bob could identify with the goal.

Adjusting the young assailant's loyalties was simple. Bob sent the has been assassin to find a place of concealment near the hotel. He'd be taking him along when he went to the Tong's headquarters.

The boy scampered away, something like a frightened rabbit, aglow with the task from the new gang he'd joined.

Bob remained where he was, considering the attraction he felt earlier. It was very strong now. He couldn't reach out to touch the odd geas, but it remained tenuously there. Then something tweaked his interest.

It was a tree. The one the youngster used for concealment. The tree was short and stunted, nothing growing near it for twenty or thirty feet. For some reason the tree radiated symbols, a little like the amber like medallions.

The sense was vaporous, out of reach every time Bob strove to contact it. There was a feeling of hidden intelligence, a separate ego, an active set of thoughts. Still he couldn't reach the stream of symbols, unable to quite read them.

Bob felt at his wrist. He'd had a watch made like Jorge's to keep the amber like slip of coin. The symbols weren't slipping through the shield he'd fashioned around it. The tree was its own source of the symbols.

The tree was unusual for this park. It was the only one of it's kind here. It bent with twisted, gnarled, almost muscular, branches. The thin leaves were healthy and green. They were narrow, about finger length, green, flat and very sparse.

It felt good to touch the tree. The odd pull vanished as he felt the coarse bark. It was as though the thing was pleading like a dog, for attention, a little petting, a little affection.

After a few moments, he decided there was little more to be learned from the tree itself. So he wandered the park to consider his odd discovery.

Park paths took him away from the mystery for now. He relaxed, problems could simply sink away into oblivion until much later.

A single bird careened amongst the trees.

Light wind gave the waving branches a surreal atmosphere, almost dreamlike. The manicured meadow was peaceful in the sunlight, empty save for the occasional avian adventurer. Fresh cut grass smell lingered, but the wall of trees about the field moved to and fro without concern for the activities of such mere mortals.

The park was oddly empty, not just this one field. Bob didn't mind. The privacy was a good touch after the last few months of living in Manhattan. He lay back on a blanket he'd 'borrowed', closed his eyes, and soaked in the quiet.

As he relaxed he cast about him with probes of thought, seeking activity, a caution brought about by the attempts on his life. Trying not to dwell on the threat didn't prevent him from taking precautions.

No one nearby was harboring threatening thoughts about him. Oh, some guy at the far end of the park was contemplating committing a mugging. Bob saved the elderly couple the punk was eyeing by performing an instant act of reform on the kid's psyche.

There was also a young woman, he could sense her. She was about 18, and just out of sight amongst the trees around the field Bob was relaxing in. He eased a gentle hint of curiosity into her, something to bring her within sight.

She stepped out to the green field, walking close enough to give him a good view. Olive brown skin, dark black hair, she was about 5' 9-10" tall. Her legs were almost golden in the sun, looking almost as long as the rest of her body. He knew it was an illusion, but their straightness also drew his attention. She wore tight, almost too revealing red shorts, and a halter top which restrained what appeared to be very pleasant assets. Some kind of silver jewelry graced her neck, the end of which was secluded among those same assets.

Bob wondered what she would sound like in orgasm. He wondered, is she be one of the screamers, a moaner or would she whimper in a totally submissive state of grace. Or, he smiled to himself, is she one of the ones who crossed the boundaries and had giggling fits?

She turned to face him. He could see wide eyes, soft red lips, and stately chiseled Roman nose. Her cheeks were smooth and high, accenting the fire in her eyes. The dark hair framed her face, also accenting her features, showing her beauty off as though she were a porcelain doll.

He reached out to her and played lightly along her nervous system with the symbols. It was a serious performance, her body an unusual musical instrument with unique tones and resonance.

She gasped, bringing one slender supple arm up so her fingers brushed her lips. The other arm crossed her torso beneath her chest, fingers holding to her side. Eyes dimming as her eyelids struggled to remain opened, she almost writhed in place from the invisible grasp. Her head nodded forward, then lurched back, flinging the black hair over her shoulders like a mane. Her breath rasped in sudden uncontrolled heat. Her swaying body moved smoothly into an almost dancing rhythm.

He let go physical control.

She remained standing, gasping and regaining composure as he released the hold he'd taken of her. He was pleased with her response. It should be more fun to manipulate this woman from child, than simply squeeze her body sexually dry in one quick burst.

"Oh!" she said, coming to her senses, realizing he was watching and grinning at her. "Oh, I don't, I, well, I don't know what came over me."

"That was very interesting. Come on over and sit down."

"I can't. It wouldn't be a good idea, I think."

He relished the way her lips rolled as she spoke. The facial expressions she used while speaking were acts of sensual behavior as well.

"Only for a few minutes, really."

She cocked her head as though in thought, unaware Bob had made her mind up for her. The idea of fleeing passed quickly.

"Okay," as she walked forward, hips swaying, an invitation to direct and immediate rape. Bob admired the flexing movements of her waist as she dropped elegantly to the grass near him.

"I'm Bob. And you?"

"Beth. Beth Covecce."

"Beth, we can have some fun together. Bet you'd like that."

"I'm not sure, I don't know you, like I said before. I shouldn't even be talking to a strange man alone in the park."

"Have I threatened you?"

"Nooo." She force the admission from herself.

"Have I done anything other than talk to you?"

"Well, nooo."

"Where is the harm in sitting and talking with me?"

"I don't know. I just feel uneasy about it."

Bob could feel her trepidations better than she could. He was thriving on it, in fact. The nervous reaction to being suddenly aroused so strongly in front of a total stranger brought mild fear up from her gut. Her sullen concern excited him.

She looked at him, big browns appraising him as though he were a prospective employer. Her hands folded smoothly in her lap, arms ever so slightly pressing her breasts together and out. Bob felt his own juices stir.

"What do you do Beth?"

"I'm going to be a student at Columbia, this fall. I'm going to enter the business program"

"You still live at home?"

"Yes. I'll commute to classes."

It was Bob's turn to be reflective. She'd better dress more conservatively for that trip. Dressed the way she was, she invited sexual assault in this city. It was all he could do to keep from tumbling her right now. But he realized the thrill, the power, the excitement of using his talent was best drawn out.

"What do you do Bob?" She came to the conclusion she subconsciously decided to risk meeting him, so she was going to get to know him. He could sense her will trying to take control of her actions. He smiled, knowing how helpless she was. She took it to be interest in her friendliness.

"I consult for a law firm in mid-town. I was exploring different parts of the city. Today I thought this park looked interesting."

"Yes, it is nice. A little patch of quiet and calm."

A pause lengthened into reverie. They both watched a squirrel zip across the grass in front of them. The mad dash was both frantic and curious in nature. A small flock of pigeons settled into a picnic area at the far end of the field.

Her legs stretched out, showing the turn of her ankles in gentle geometry. Bob watched her hang her head back, showing the smooth expanse of tender neck, silver necklace vanishing into her cleavage. The neck appeared yummy enough to sink his teeth into. He chuckled to himself, almost a vampire like thought.

"What's funny?," she caught his eyes with hers again.

"I was just thinking about vampires and how tasty your neck looked just now."

She reddened up. The pink color overcame her tanned skin, giving her a look of innocence. She tucked her head down, trying to conceal her embarrassment. She didn't see how this aroused Bob.

The quiet returned again. Bob could feel she wasn't sure why she'd sat with him, and the remark about her neck disturbed her Italian Catholic upbringing. What to make of this new acquaintance of hers in the park? The attempt to fathom his comment seemed to be eat into her thoughts.

"Do you have a boyfriend Beth?" He already knew she did. He was looking for more ways to bring out the embarrassed pink in her face.

"Yes, his name is Joe. It's really Joseph, but he likes me to call him Joe."

"Do you do things with him?"

"Oh yes," came vivaciously. "We go out to movies and dinner all the time. He's so sweet. We're going to get married after college. He's going away to Holy Cross. Holy Cross is in someplace called Wooster. Only it's spelled like the cooking sauce, you know Worcester or something. I think." She pronounced the name like Westchester, probably more familiar.

"No Beth. Do the two of you do things in private together?"

"Huh?" Then she turned red again as it dawned on her what he meant. She looked away from him, and spoke, "No, we're waiting until we get married."

"That's a shame, you don't know what you're missing."

"I can wait, thank you." Her face became wooden, not pleased with the direction of the conversation.

"I can show you, if you want."

"I think I'll go now, thank you very much." She started to get up. As she reached her feet, Bob sank a set of curiosity symbols into her, and a twinge of desire to try something with him.

Standing there, looking at him as though he'd torn her clothing off, she pondered. He could see the gears clicking in her head. Actually a stream of symbols spinning in a whirl, including the ones he'd added.

"I guess I could hang out a while. It's not as if I need to go anywhere or do anything today."

"That's nice. I'd hate to see you leave when we were just getting to know each other."

"Um, yeah." She stretched herself back out on the grass, her skin almost glowing from perspiration in the warm summer weather. At least, it seemed the sweat came from struggling with the hot weather.

"So what do you two do?"

"Um, I'd rather not talk about it." The embarrassment was strong, the taboo subject of sex and intimacy was bringing her to an uncomfortable state of uneasiness.

"Oh, come on now. It can't be so bad."

She pinked up again, turning away before almost whispering, "We kiss."

"Kiss? That's all?"

"He sticks his tongue in my mouth. I like it, but it's kind of gross."

Bob laughed. He couldn't help let his raucous laughter roll him over in the grass. This was the worst, the most embarrassing thing she experienced so far about sex?

"What's so funny!?"

He calmed down. The bridge of her nose wrinkled up as she used a stern expression. Dimples were slightly visible in her cheeks.

"You're embarrassed about necking? In this day and age, when virginity is so incredibly disposable? I'm hardly sure I know what to say."

"You! You! You!" she sputtered at him.

"It's okay! Calm down. Come over here, that's right, come on over here."

Pouting like a rebuked child she crossed her arms.

"I won't hurt you, I promise."

She crawled over where he was sitting. She knelt next to him. He pulled her around, placing her head carefully in his lap. She resisted lightly, but not too seriously. Along with her furtive glances, she managed a nervous smile for him. Her hands clenched into fists over her chest, a barrier against advances.

He smiled at the resistance, knowing how hopeless it really was. He bent forward, giving the barest of kisses, almost brotherly. She pushed him back.

"Joe and I" she trailed off as he made a more serious effort to engage her in passion. His tongue levered between her lips and glided along her teeth. She yielded to the kiss, opening her mouth and allowing him entry. Her tongue remained elusive, evading his own as he sought after it for greater interaction. Yet her hands were cool, now against the back of his neck as she pulled his face into her own.

Yes, she thought, this was nice. But Joe, what about Joe? Shamefully, she felt, she was betraying Joe even by just necking with Bob. Bob was so, well, in charge. She knew Joe could never be this enticing, drawing her into a sensual experience like this.

Bob enjoyed the sensation of her inner embarrassment. The pink shade of her face as her eyes closed with each passionate embrace was further visual confirmation. She entered into necking with minimal adjustment, a light tweaking of her interest, her curiosity. The humiliation was an enjoyable side effect.

His hand rested on her bare tummy. The skin's surface was smooth and soft, muscled underneath, but delicate to touch. She twitch and pushed at his arm every time he moved the hand up her rib cage.

Against her struggling resistance, his hand cupped her breast through the material of the halter. The flesh beneath pillowed his hand nicely, more than filling his hand.

"Stop!," she squealed, pulling back from him. She rolled off his lap, and started to shake her finger at him. "I don't do that sort of thing. Keep your hands where they belong!"

"Where did you think they belonged?" As he asked he sought out the resistance inside her. She contained many oddly conflicting views, any of which could cause a lot of trouble. "Tell me how it felt."

"It felt," uncertainty swept up in her. He prodded her interest and desire again. She was confused, her face screwed up in a semblance of deep thought.

He rode the cyclone of symbols in her head, interjecting feelings of pleasure, blocking sensations of fear. There were many elements in the spinning thoughts giving rise to fear. Every time he thought he'd given her counter thoughts to overcome the fear, another would pop up. Once it was an image of some nameless nun, slapping her for some trivial error. An idealized image of her father flew past, certain in itself he would never do this with her mother

Reluctantly, she drew close again. She sat beside him, offering her lips as a sacrament to him. Once again her hands gathered themselves into little fists, but she struggled to keep them down on her lap.

He allowed her to worship through the meeting of their lips. Their tongues returned to the tenuous game of chasing each other around in their interlocked mouths. Her brown eyes closed in gentle submission at each kiss, giving her lovely face an appearance of grace.

Right arm held her across her back, he lightly held her close by the shoulder. As they necked, he used it to pull her once more into his lap. Between kisses, her brows furled, eyes pleading him to do her no harm.

Tension ignored, she allowed his hand to cover her breast unimpeded. The nipple popped to a stiff erection under the halter. She gasped, feeling a sinful pleasure seep into her chest from his touch.

"Oh!" She gasped it out, looking to the side. He rolled the nipple, still behind the cloth, between his fingers and thumb. Her lips opened with a sharp breath. She clenched her eyes shut, as though in pain rather than the soothing pleasure he knew she felt.

He slid his hand under the halter, cupping his palm against the flesh. Her head snapped back, eyes open again, a gasp expelled with startled surprise. Her hands came up again, both grabbing hold of his forearm. Yet she allowed him to continue, rolling her head with rhythmic breaths, coming from low in her diaphragm.

His left hand found the bow and knot at the back of her neck. He pulled it undone. Rolling back the cupping halter revealed the unattended breast, a pale mound of soft pliant skin, tipped with a nipple whose color almost matched her lips. The areola was almost three inches across with the knob jutting outward just so.

He bent down to her chest. With the tongue's flat middle, he licked her almost light enough not to be felt. But the nipple's skin tightened immediately. He took the time to curl his tongue about the rubbery knob, lashing as well, back and forth. The flesh hardened, stiff erect, and pointing outwards from her chest.

She was rolling her head now, rubbing back against his leg and waving her silken hair about. Her eyes rolled back, the lids shuttering open and closed. For all her shame in allowing him to use her body, she enjoyed the sensations all his attention gave her.

Pulling his hand free from the halter's bottom string, Bob caught a glimpse of the end of her necklace, a little silver cross. He smiled, and moved it so she couldn't fail to see what he was setting aside. A huge surge of shame and guilt flowed through her, washing in amongst the sensations of pleasure. He chose this moment to tweak her nipple harder than before, bringing another gasp of pain and pleasure from her soft red lips.

"unna, ooohh," she moaned.

She strove to suppress the guilt and shame, to enjoy the luxurious sensations his petting brought out. It was a mixed battle, bringing out Bob's own arousal.

He played with her. The nipples were sensitive instruments, controlling her arousal without modifying her mind. She rode about on his lap, something like the sporadic movement of tree tops in the wind.

Teasing at her now, he settled back, watching her face enjoy the his manipulation with only one hand. Then he slowed to a stop. She settled against his stomach, whimpering.

"I never knew. I never knew how nice it would be," she whispered.

"You still don't. All we did was some gentle petting."

"I, um, thank you."

"We're not done you know."

"No?" She shuddered nervously.

"I just think we'll find someplace else to play."

She sat up, starting to retie the halter in place.

"Don't bother. Take it completely off, now."

"What!?"

"You heard me. We'll both enjoy it more."

"But," she nearly whimpered.

"I insist. Do as you're told."

"Um, as you say," she said. She hesitantly removed the halter, handing it to Bob, who tucked the cloth into his rear pocket. He picked up his things, and they began to walk.

She kept looking about. Afraid someone would see her walking, tits hanging out, with only the little silver cross over them. Thinking of the cross brought out another bout of humiliated shame. But Bob knew she now had become determined to explore the experience a little longer.

The street wasn't empty, and several people were stared at her. No one said anything, no one would in Brooklyn. But she felt filthy. The degradation of walking down her own block on the way home, without any cover over her full breasts, was eating into her composure.

But Bob refused her quiet plea to return the halter top. Walking under the windows where friends were certain to be looking out.

Worse still was what he was doing as they walked past people she knew. In the most familiar manner, his arm was around her back. At the most embarrassing moments, he reached under her arm and cupped her breast. The fingers pinched her nipples, shooting a fire of pleasure along the rib cage and up to her throat. The feelings were intense and so good. She enjoyed the use he was making of her, even before strangers. Not to mention the friends and neighbors who were watching her pass.

Bob sucked in the emotion, excited at how she'd reacted. He was also pretty exhausted, causing so many people to forget seeing the two of them. There were far more than he expected in the five blocks from the park.

Beth was near tears, but stoically accepted her fate. The tears couldn't hide her heightened breathing though. The humiliating walk came to an end as they entered the hallway to the brownstone. They entered her family's apartment and a sigh of relief came out.

Bob knew relief would be short lived. He had already probed the apartment as they entered.

Air conditioning licked along their sweaty bodies. The cool air gave Beth at least a series of attractive goose bumps. She was very unsettled, having brought him home for their fun. However, her mother would be shopping for some time, and Dad wasn't usually home until eight lately.

As they stood in the living room, Bob cupped her breast and pulled her face to his for a passionate kiss.

This was the moment Beth's mother stepped into the room from the kitchen.

"What in the hell?!" she shouted.

"Mother!" Beth's arms tried to cover her nakedness. Red streaks shot through her complexion, her head hung to one side as though beaten.

"You slut! This is how you repay us?! The Good Lord knows, we've fed you, clothed you and" Mrs. Covecce stopped in mid-sentence. Bob turned to Beth and sucked in the sensations of humiliation, degradation, and guilt the girl was exuding. His rock hard prick strained the confines of his trousers.

Then he looked back at the mother.

She also had long jet black hair, the same slender but full figure, and a delightfully lovely face. Beth must have inherited the brown eyes from her. Her stern look was gone, dropped into a trance like state. Her clothing was interesting considering the weather.

She wore a heavy smock like felt shirt, a mid-calf length skirt, and a pair of sandals. What he could see of her legs were almost identical to Beth's and her hands looked delicate but strong. The shirt was billowy enough to conceal the exact shape of her breasts.

She couldn't be older than 37 or 38. Her face just didn't carry the wrinkles of any more age than that. He figured with a little make up, the mother and daughter could pass for sisters, twin sisters.

He adjusted her mind symbols. When he let her free again, she would be in an odd sort of servant mode. She'd do anything for him. She turned her life over to him for everything until he reset her later. She still would hold her own views and express them, but she'd defer to anything Bob wanted.

It was easy enough to do, just not exciting to take her this way. The conquest wasn't the same. Bob wondered how other Voices got any excitement without slower incremental control, allowing the other will to fight back. Then he let go of the thought.

"Beth," he prodded her to look up.

"What?" She looked at her mother, "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing yet. What's her name?"

"Judith, but Dad calls her Judy."

"Sit down in the large chair Judy," he commanded. She walked over scowling again and sat down. "How would you like to see me fuck your daughter, Judy?"

"NO!," squealed Beth, "Not in front of mother!"

"Oh yes dear," her mother replied, dripping acid. "You've been such a slut, you may as well get plugged now. If I get my way, your father will take a belt to you later."

Her shame rose further, tears welling from the depths of her eyes. Bob turned her around before her mother, and kissed her passionately. She responded even more strongly now. Humiliation brought the heat out in her.

Bob reached for the young woman's tits. He fondled them as he kissed her, knowing Beth could no longer resist the bright pleasure he gave her. He pulled back to watch her reaction to being used before her mother. Her heat was fanned by the crushing pressure on her nipples, and a moan escaped her throat.

"You little cunt," said the mother, "you've been screwing around all along, haven't you. Why else would you sound so much like a whore?!"

"moth" Beth gasped at a sudden twist Bob gave her nipple. "yess."

She staggered in place. Her head swayed with lust.

Bob stopped molesting the girl. He stepped towards her mother. Then he turned, looking back at the vision of sex standing confused before him. Uncertainty made her fidget.

"Take the shorts off, and anything underneath too," he commanded.

She stared at him for a moment, then turned away and began undoing the zipper. While she was doing so he kicked his shoes off, and began to unbuckle his belt. As the hot pants hit the floor, Bob's trousers hit too.

She turned around, displaying the curly black hairs at her groin. She tried to cover the pink parts with her hands, self conscious being nude before her mother and Bob both.

"Pretty good looking daughter you have, Mrs. Covecce."

"So you're going to rape my baby, are you? What kind of"

"Save it cunt," he interrupted. "When I'm done with her, you're going to beg to be fucked too."

"You wouldn't dare! You filthy cretin. Do you really think I'll allow you to manhandle me that way!?"

"Yes you will, and you'll like it too."

He bit back the anger he'd started to show. It was his own fault, not taking the time to more completely take the other woman's mind. Just for fun, he sent ecstatic jolts shooting through the snarling woman.

Like her daughter had reacted in the same role, she blurred into a sensual haze. Her eyes rolled back, lips parted, and rolling sine wave like motions began in her body. She moaned and threw her head back, intently watching his eyes whenever she could keep her own open. A hand instinctively raised to her mouth, she sucked a knuckle in past the teeth. Her shoulders arched back, and her abdomen rolled a little in lustful heat.

He released the hold he'd seized on her nervous system. The symbols withdrawn, she blinked. Aware how she'd behaved, she turned her head away. He read the concern in her, a concern that she was no better than her daughter.

Beth, also watching this, was both aroused and embarrassed by her mother's heated response. Mothers never have anything to do with sex, do they? This was a challenging concept to the young woman. Oh sure, sex to make babies, but not for fun.

"Now Beth," Bob returned to his initial play thing. The only thing she still wore was her silver cross. It pleased him to know she imagined it burned her. It scalded her for sins she believed were about to be committed. "Sit down on the floor. Spread your legs and touch yourself."