Chapter 1

As soon as I met Gillian A., I could tell that she was an unhappy and unfulfilled woman, and it wasn't just because she was unable to reconcile her success on screen and stage with the continued failure of her relationships with men. It didn't take me long to find out why those relationships so often came to nothing but heartache...

Now, it wasn't as if I'd planned this thing, but once I saw her, my mind was made up. I had to have Gillian as a sex-slave. I am in expert in mind control, a hypnotist and telepath, and it is my pleasure to ensnare beautiful female celebrities, and bend them to my will. Some prove more bendable that others, but none can finally resist. The very best no longer need my controls, but operate willingly as disciples. I also control a few carefully chosen men, who sometimes assist me. This is the story of my latest conquest.

"Clumsy Asshole!" Gillian A. swore at me.

I had accidentally on purpose jogged her elbow, and spilled some of her drink. Gillian was sitting in the bar of an exclusive London hotel, looking very downhearted. Her play had just been badly received by the press, she was all alone. My first glimpse of her was pouting miserably into space.

"I am so terribly sorry! Please allow me to buy you another drink!" I responded, and managed to catch her angry, beautiful green eyes with my gaze. Click. I locked onto her, and began to send my messages of control and surrender.

"Uh... Oh... well... OK." Gillian's eyes softened. It was working already. I sent waves of insidious, seductive empathy to her as the barman mixed an innocuous tasting but rather lethal cocktail. I'm not too proud to turn down the assistance of a simple drug like alcohol when it comes to breaking down early inhibitions.

I could tell that Gillian was vulnerable, that she needed comfort and confidence. I supplied her needs, like a friendly uncle, the perfect stranger... She felt safe with me, and as my eyes subtly worked on her along with several more drinks, she soon began to tell me things about herself that no other man had heard before. Deftly, I planted some suggestions in her mind, and after an hour or so, at my silent command the conversation was continued in her suite. This is a little of what she told me.

Gillian came to sex very young and emotionally immature. Despite the best efforts of her parents, she had quickly fallen under the spell of the bad boys, and girls. In those days, Punk ruled, and in the rough atmosphere of slam-dancing, cheap drugs and booze, Gillian came unstuck. Even before that, in England, when she was barely more than a child, she had begun her descent into that early depravity. One day a teacher at her school kept her back at the end of the day, and under the pretext of admonishing her for some minor rule infraction, he locked her in the staff-room, and very soon she tasted cock, and shortly after that, cum, for the very first time.

It was all very strange to begin with, the teacher was soon using her repeatedly, and after a while, he took her home to his wife, who used her too. Soon it all seemed quite natural to her. They taught her how to cum, and soon she was a more than willing participant in her special education. She was filled with cocks, fingers, tongues, cum - male and female. For oral sex with men, she soon developed a twisted, near insatiable thirst. Right into her mid-teens, she had let just about anyone take her. Back in Grand Rapids, it reached a peak. Sometimes a gang of so-called friends would take her to a derelict house, and fuck her until she leaked cum from every orifice, and could barely stand. Her already mediocre academic career was dipping further. Things were going badly downhill. In the end, after enduring an endless twenty-four hour gangbang, she came to her senses. She realised that for a long time she has been acting anyway, the slut, the whore, the cumpig... Acting was what she had become good at. So she escaped to drama school, then she moved to New York, where she was unknown, and felt safe at last. It was hard going for a while, but then came the audition. She had needed a new beginning, and in Hollywood, it came with the XYZ-Files. Then there were relationships again, and she tried so hard to be faithful, to be a good lover, she really did, but, she confessed, with tears of frustration in her eyes, that because of what had happened to her back in England, when she was young, she could cum when women fucked her, she could make herself cum, but with men, there was a build up, excitement that was sometimes unbearable, that she pushed it further and further, wilder and wilder, she would reach for the sky, and fall into the gutter. At the crucial moment, nothing! A terrible blank, deflation... despair.

She confessed with a trembling voice that more than anything, she needed to know what it was like to orgasm from sex with men. She swore that she wasn't a lesbian. She loved having sex with women, but it was men she lost her heart too, and though they could bring her to the tortured brink, none had yet succeeded in finishing her! She'd found that her own fingers could do it when she was with male lovers, but there was a blockage, all because of her early conditioning. Part of that conditioning, in the teacher's study, had been to bondage, and a wide variety of S&M practices. It was no surprise that Gillian sent out clear signals that she was a slave to the delights of sexual submission and a soon to be ascertained degree of pleasure in physical, sexual pain.

And yet despite the extremes of debauchery, she really was shy at heart, often afraid to ask men to do that which she secretly longed form because she knew it would scare them too much. I could read that part of her mind very easily, and decided that I would be only too happy to supply her needs. I think that as she told me all her sexy secrets, she sensed that perhaps, as an older man, unconnected with her lifestyle, I could help her bridge that gap between her first sexual misadventures, and the itchingly sexy, but unfulfilled woman she had become. I firmly planted in her mind the idea that such a man could bring her to the full flowering of her sexuality. Once I had pointed her in that direction, she just ran with it.

It wasn't so much seduction by then, as recognition. So this is the story of my first sexual encounters with Gillian A., she of the oddly exquisite face, with eyes that could dazzle from a hundred yards, lips that could and had sucked out a men's souls. I mentally undressed her small, toned body, her perfect ass, her deliciously soft, large-nippled breasts, and then I visualised her alarmingly beautiful, soon to blossom orchid shaped cunt.

I had my special briefcase to Gillian's room. It's a heavy, wide, leather affair, similar to a doctor's bag. When I bumped into Gillian, I had pausing briefly whilst on my way to see my dear Kate W. (a true disciple), and was travelling properly equipped for the unashamedly perverse games that we loved to play. While we were still down in the bar, and Gillian had gone to the ladies room for a pee, I called Kate, and told her what was happening, knowing that she would be almost as excited as I was. She begged me prettily to tell her all about it later, and to summon her at once, whatever the hour, if I found myself in need of the female touch. The thought of my deliciously kinky Kate and Gillian A. together worked on me like an aphrodisiac, but I would leave that option for another day.

Back upstairs, Gillian was a little drunk, but not helplessly so. I wanted her consent to my seduction, because having gleaned her state of mind, I was determined that the most important thing would be to repair the damage done to her. Her mind was not strong enough for the kind of psychic battle that I enjoy with some women. Steadily, her confessions became more and more intimate. She blushed scarlet as she described her, what she described as totally weird love of semen, and the way that when she was a teenager back in the Mid-West, a group of men she knew would blindfold her, and have her identify them from the taste of their cum alone. She rubbed her wrists unselfconsciously as she told with growing fervour of her pleasure in being bound and used... But how the fulfilment she sought ever eluded her. By now I was near the peak of my own arousal, my powers blazing. I fed her with my erotic strength, and felt her blooming like a flower. I would surely be the first man to take her to orgasm!

Of course I could have made her mine with a flick of my fingers, If I had so desired, I could have made her strip for me down in the bar, and watched her suck off every man there, but I had divined that there was no need for anything like that. Though she didn't know it, Gillian was hungry for my teachings, within her was an eager, sensual, truly adventurous soul, desperately seeking enlightenment. I would be her guru. She just needed guidance - the potential was all there! I gently let my mind explore hers as she relaxed with me, spreading my tentacles through her brain cells, and even I was surprised at the variety and extremes of her erotic imaginings. I already knew that there were few places to which she would not willingly go.

It was definitely time to pull her trigger, time to unleash the submissive slut sex-goddess within her! And now, as I stared mesmerically into her eyes, I was in control of her body, as well as her mind.

"Gillian, do you hear me?" She nodded. "We are going to make love now... you will permit everything that I desire, no matter how strange, because I know that in your heart it is what you desire also. You will serve me with complete abandon, and thus I will serve you, and free you, and give you what you most desire." I paused. "You must call me Master." This was a small but significant test, but she truly was hypnotised by my eyes, my voice, by the power of my mind. Her pink rosebud mouth was glistening, irresistible...

"Yes Master," she said, softly.

"Take your dress off Gillian."

She obeyed immediately, standing up, reaching back, unzipping, letting the garment fall to the floor...

"Now your bra and panties." Again obedience, total compliance.

God, she was beautiful. A poetic wet dream of alabaster flesh.

I swiftly undressed too, freeing the thick, turgid length of my ten-inch cock with instant relief. However, it would be a while before I permitted myself the luxury of orgasm. Gillian's eyes stared down at my shaft, her tongue flickered around her cherry-ripe lips, a slut's reaction. My cocked jerked in psychic recognition of her needs. It would be a considerable challenge to hold back until the perfect moment. I could psychically feel her hunger for my cum. I loved the flowing tresses of her long blonde hair, grown that way for her play, but it would get in the way of a sight a I longed to see, so as she stood naked, I moved behind her, my cock touching the smooth skin at the base of her spine, and plaited her hair into a short ponytail. It made her look beguilingly schoolgirlish, especially as I discovered she had a surprisingly sparse, wispy red brown bush.

"Gillian, bring my briefcase over here," I said when I had finished. Gillian obeyed happily. For her, being controlled was so very important. I flicked the combination wheels and opened my Pandora's box of tricks. It held my comprehensive travelling kit, the finest tools and potions from my large collection. There were silk scarves and ropes, velvet lined wrist and ankle cuffs, a couple of coiled whips, a paddle, and a favourite old tawse. There were dildoes in glass, rubber, and metal, several sizes of speculum, clamps for the flesh, the clitoris, and the nipples. Importantly, I had with me a selection of specially formulated drugs to enhance and enable pleasure beyond pain. And finally, there were balms and ointments to magic away the marks of passion. Gillian would leave her hotel as externally physically perfect as she had entered it, but changed in both mind and interior in ways that would alter her life forever.

Even as Gillian gazed open-mouthed at the contents of the case, I caught a faint whiff of the perfume of my previous celebrity conquest. Just two weeks previously I had helped the sexy and petite Natalie Imbruglia reach her full sexual potential.

"Now Gillian, you may choose the first item from this selection, and we will begin your education." I instructed her.

Her sparkling blue eyes took on a deep humid glow. Her hand hovered over various objects, and then she decided. Her fingers lifted a coil of fine rope from the case, and with an expression of total submission, she handed it to me.

"Good girl Gillian, a truthful choice. You will be rewarded."

"Thank you Master," she whispered huskily, in the voice of a grateful child.

I noticed that a trickle of moisture was easing its way from the dewy tendrils of her bush, leaving a glistening trail down the inside of one sculpted thigh.

"Hold out your hands," I ordered her. I saw her swallow, and a flush of blood suffused her throat as I symbolically bound her wrists.

I walked her to the high double doorway that led to the suite's bathroom. It was perfect for my needs.

"Stand there, and hold this box, I said, opening the doors, and placing her in the frame.

I took a small but powerful battery powered electric drill from my case, and several of the load-bearing screw-in eyelets that were in the box she held. While she watched quietly, curiously, I quickly turned the doorway into a bondage frame. I threaded the silk ropes through the rings I had fitted, and lovingly attached them to leather cuffs. I then, with a smile of pleasure from her to me and back again, I strapped the cuffs tightly around her ankles and wrists. I could now manipulate Gillian like a puppet. I pulled the ropes, making each limb stretch out in turn, until. Her breathing quickened as she became utterly helpless. Her lips looked fuller, her eyes deeper, and juice trickles from her cunt now began to drip straight onto the polished wood floor. I could tell she truly loved what I was doing, and I loved her natural response to it too. A few more tugs to tighten things up, and Gillian was ready, splayed, arms and legs stretched wide, held upright by the ropes. Utterly vulnerable. There was just enough room for me to pass either side of her.

My blood sang in my veins. What an exquisite surface on which to etch my lust! I began to caress her with my fingertips, avoiding her major erogenous zones, but noticing how her skin contracted and goose-pimpled to my touch. She was moaning quietly... needily... Then I took her nipples between my fingers and thumbs - such softness, such springy deep pinky brown textures - I pressed gently at first. Gillian gasped as the flesh swelled between my finger and thumb, sending pleasure coursing through her. Then I cruelly twisted the bulging teats. Tight. Tighter... TIGHTER!

"Aaaaahh!!" She wailed, pulling away from me as best she could. I smiled, and shook my head.

"No Gillian, you must not resist... Good girls don't fight back!"

I squeezed sharply, even harder. I noticed it caused an extra gush of fluid from her cunt. The drops on the floor were becoming a pool. Gillian moaned and tried to stand still.

"Very soon Gillian, these buds will feel the grip of something stronger," I taunted her.

She whimpered low in her throat.

I gave a last vicious twist, and let go of her nipples. My hand slid roughly down her taut tummy. It quivered as my fingers cupped the firm mound of her sex. I could feel the heat and wetness tempting me. I resisted, removing my fingers and holding them to her lips. Her tongue darted out instinctively. Good. She enjoyed the flavour of her own body.

I reached into the case, and took out a small whip. It had a woven leather handle, and twelve bootlace fine lashes. I held it up to her.

"Kiss the whip," I said, implacably, and now genuine fear flashed across her beautiful face. With trembling lips, she obeyed.

I flicked the lashes quite lightly over her perfect skin, watching with satisfaction as it pinkened to the sweetly malicious caresses. Gillian began to growl and twist, not trying to escape the blows as their strength increased, but to meet them. Occasionally I directed the narrow strands across her breasts, loving the way they wobbled and jiggled, and the blood suffused them. Another gush from her cunt as I slashed the whip a little harder across her sensitive nipples, making her bite her lips and shed tears of masochistic suffering and joy.

I stood back, looking at her. She was panting, making little animal noises. Her cunt was alive, twitching, beginning to blossom so prettily. I drew the whip up, between her thighs, wetting the lashes with her honey. Stroking it up, over her clitoris, her hips shuddering... In a swift, vicious move, I let the whip drop, and then flicked it upwards, lightning fast, making her shriek as it snapped cruelly on her moist naked slit. Three times I did that, but she didn't ask me to stop. The fourth time she seemed to convulse.

"ELLEN!" She wailed. The name betrayed the fact that another had given her considerable pleasure from this caress.

"No Gillian... not Ellen! For that slip you will be severely punished. It is a man giving you what you want. Today, you will come for a man!"

I dropped the whip on the floor, and took the nipple clamps from their compartment in my case. Gillian gulped and whined. Music to my ears. Perhaps Ellen's games hadn't led to this particular torture. I slid the first loop of steel over the softness, and slowly released the spring. An animal wail rose from her extended throat.

"IT HURRRRTS!"

"Of course it does Gillian, it's supposed to," I teased her, and let the clamp bite harder. A sheen of sweat appeared on her skin, tears trickled down her cheeks as I let go, leaving the clamp in place. The pain must have been excruciating, but the effect upon her cunt was remarkable, so much so that I fetched a mirror and angled it to reflect the glistening, dribbling peach for her eyes as well as mine.

While the fine teeth of the second clamp doubled her suffering as it chomped onto her vulnerable teat, I commanded her to watch.

"Look Gillian, your cunt is an orchid, and it is beginning to blossom!"

And indeed it was pulsing, the lips almost melting with blood and arousal. The slit opening visibly from the vicarious thrill of the shockingly painful caresses of the clamps. There are few who can take pleasure from such things, but Gillian proved she was was born for it. She bit her lips, snivelling but transfixed.

"I'm sorry Master... for my sin... for mentioning Ellen!" She croaked. Her accent was sounding more English, thick with the lust of the masochist. I knew that one touch on the stamen of that flower between her legs would finish her off, but I had many other plans. I picked up the whip and prowled round her, lashing her in random places, never quite where she wanted me too. She was suspended in lust, bathed in everything but the final prize of orgasm. Her flower reacted superbly, and soon I knew I had to investigate the depth and width of it, to see it in fullest glorious bloom... At last I dropped the whip. It was time.

I picked up what looked like a long, slightly curved glass dildo. It is in fact a hollow tube, with a small hole in the 'glans' end. It's made of optical glass, and very elegant, shaped for maximum penetration, despite its rigidity. It is also designed for maximum visibility... Gillian's eyes widened. The pain from the clamps masked any further discomfort as I slid the tube slowly into her. She was so wet no further lubricant was required. There was little resistance either. Her cunt really had been penetrated by many cocks, many fingers, and god knows what other objects, so this was probably not too weird for her. However, she was definitely surprised when I took a small, powerful torch, and kneeling before her, I shone it up into the tube, and gazed into the wonderful world of Gillian A.! I could see all the way up to her cervix, a truly luscious sight. I moved the tube inside her, examining her carefully. Yes. She was ideal. It was time for the next lesson in her education.

Dilaxadrine is an amazing drug. Still largely experimental, it was first developed to in the hope of assisting surgery in the field of battle. It was supposed to operate by dilating membranes in a curious way, so that the injury would close much more quickly, and blood vessels could repair with less scar tissue. To the scientists dismay, it did the exact opposite! It does swell the membranes, but if they form an orifice, such as an gaping injury, or a body opening, it caused that orifice to widen, making the muscles retract or stretch accordingly! Then they experimented with it as an aid to childbirth, and in extremely dilute quantities, it can work wonders. It's still a long way from a manufacturing licence, but the experiments caused an underground stir. It was first demonstrated to me by a female gynaecologist, and when applied to the vagina of a near virgin seventeen year old girl, it resulted in a near circular labial gape of nearly two inches! Applied internally, it can turn the vagina into a strange, hollow tunnel. As I saw that day, few pure drops of applied to the cervix can grant access to the womb itself! Needless to say, anal and rectal use give similar results.

To a man of my proclivities, it is a god given gift! To many women of my acquaintance, it has opened the gateway to paradise. The effects are temporary, coming on very fast, lasting for about an hour at full strength, then relaxing fairly quickly back to normal after two hours. The only major side-effects are in their own ways, pluses. Repeated use leads to a form of muscle memory, where certain caresses can instigate some of the effects without the drug being applied. Not exactly a disadvantage, my disciples tell me! The drug is also an effective pain transmuter, a new development that allows full sensation, but picks up and amplifies muscular signals translating them even at high levels into pleasure instead of discomfort. It does this partly by stimulating serotonin levels, not unlike Ecstasy. It comes in liquid form, or as an ointment. It can be injected, but I have it blended with a fine silicone based lubricant. It is of course, top secret.

Gillian wept softly as I finally released her nipples from the clamps, and massaged them gently back to life from their agonising numbness. When I untied the master knot, she slumped weakly into my arms. Saying nothing, I carried her to the bed and laid her upon the firm mattress. I placed a telescopic bar between her ankles to force her legs wide apart, and cuffed her wrists again, tying them to the bed head. I raised her knees, and propped up her head, so that she could see what I was doing. The glass tube dildo was still inside her. I took the bottle of Dilaxadrine blend (we call it Dilax for short), and making sure the tube was inserted firmly against her cervix, I trickled the first few drops into her, moving the open tip of the tube to make sure the drug reached the place where her womb would open up for me. I liked to apply the drug internally first, as it would get into her bloodstream faster, and enhance the other sensations sooner. Gillian was speechless, fascinated, and, looking into her mind, I found that excitement was fighting with fear.