Chapter 380: I Pick Up D-Cup, With Some Help From God

Monday, July 2, 2007

Carol and I went for our drive shortly after midnight, driving to D-Cup's home, stopping a block away so I could do some snooping. I searched the house quickly to find out if she was there. After a quick glance in a couple of wrong bedrooms, I found her in the third. I took that as confirmation that God approved of my plan, which was good because He was going to be helping me.

I looked around the house more slowly to get a feel for the Smiths. In a word - and it's not my favorite one - they're religious; even excessively religious by normal standards, so you can imagine how they compared to mine. For examples, the living room had a large crucifix on a wall and a bookshelf containing a large Bible and other mindless pap, at least half the pictures on the walls throughout the house had Christian motifs. I wrote "at least" because I feared that I was failing to recognize the motif for some of the others. The calendar on the kitchen wall by the phone was issued by my friends, the Galloping Ninnies.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith slept in the same double bed, which gave me a faint hope, although I had to admit there was a significant difference between her parents sleeping together and D-Cup and me doing so. I was sure that her parents would agree with me on that, and I had a feeling that would be the only time her parents and I would agree on anything.

The family photos in the living room showed four children. There was a family shot that had to be taken recently because it was in front of the Ninnies completed church. As I judged the ages from it, the children had been born in the order of: boy (looked about eighteen), girl (D-Cup; looked eighteen but was sixteen), boy (fifteen?), and girl (fifteen?). The younger girl was almost as gorgeous as Nevaeh and she had a very pretty face too.

The house was a moderately upmarket one, having five bedrooms, all of which were occupied. I'd thought the older boy might've moved out if I'd underestimated his age, but he was sleeping soundly in his room. The parents' bedroom had an en-suite, and there were two other bathrooms, one of which was OBVIOUSLY for the girls.

The parents' bedroom had a prominent crucifix on the wall above their headboard, which literally sent a shiver up my spine at the thought of how mentally ill people would have to be to do that, but none of the kids' bedrooms were similarly afflicted. The kids' rooms were all tidy, which for teenagers meant they were probably mentally ill too. There were no posters of rock stars or anything normal like that. This family was one of those that seemed not to have purchased a poster of me in my bright yellow Speedos. There were no TVs in the kids' rooms, and only the oldest boy had a computer. "Repressed", was the word that came to quite a few of my minds.

I concentrated on D-Cup's room. The walls of her room were covered by many paintings. Some of them were framed, but most were merely pinned in place, giving me a feeling that they were her creations. If so, then she had quite a lot of talent, according to my very uninformed opinion.

Other than art, her room held several soft toys of the type that girls seem to find irresistible, several fine-quality china ballerina figurines in a large display case mounted on a wall, and a musical instrument case that was somewhere between violin- and guitar-size. The room also had a music stand and a seat for her to sit on while playing whatever is inside the case. Given her family's attitude, I doubted she played any music I'd enjoy so I didn't care what the instrument was that she didn't play it on.

Her bookshelf contained a Bible. I looked at the top of it very closely while I rubbed a small NP-fingertip along it, and I was VERY happy to see a good amount of dust. Yippee. I gave Carol that piece of good news as part of my running commentary to her. Carol gave me an agreeing "Yippee" back.

There were a handful of other religious books. Things like, "The New Testament Explained for Teenagers" and other guides for how kids should think. None of them appeared to have been used recently. There was a year's worth of schoolbooks indicating D-Cup was into music and art. Mostly art I thought, as there appeared to be some extra art books that it seemed she'd bought for her pleasure, judging by their placement away from the schoolbooks. The majority of her bookshelf was filled with fiction. Some were classics like "Pride and Prejudice", but most were more modern. I didn't recognize most of the titles or authors, determining their modernity by the look of them.

I pulled several of them out to read the blurbs on their backs or inside their dust covers. They all seemed to include romantic love. They weren't the lurid romance books that Julia used to read - which seems so unlike her personality these days; I certainly changed her life substantially - but they still offered a clue about D-Cup's personality. They looked like they'd seen considerably more use than the religious books, which was very pleasing.

She had a shelf beside her single bed which contained a couple of books, presumably those she was reading now. I picked them up to have a look at their blurbs, and they were both fictional love stories.

She had a closet that Julia would commit suicide in preference to restricting herself to (Carol laughed). It was packed solid - as girls' closets always are - but I was able to see that her dresses and skirts were all far too long, and it seemed she didn't have any tops that exposed much of her chest, which had to be at least a federal crime if not a hanging offense. There were no high-heeled shoes, but were a couple of low-to-medium ones. There was a pair of very too-small ballerina shoes in the front row, where they'd be easily seen.

What with her china ballerinas, a couple of her paintings having a ballet theme, and these shoes, Carol and I decided that D-Cup used to do ballet when she was younger. That the ballet shoes were too small and there were none the right size implied she no longer did it, to her regret. I believe I've heard somewhere that ballerinas should be slim, which hadn't been one of the many words that'd come to my mind when I'd seen D-Cup naked, so maybe that was the reason.

Three-quarters of the bras in her drawer were ordinary, boring, functional white ones; plus she had a couple of ordinary dark-colored ones. By "ordinary" I don't mean excessively unsexy; I just mean "ordinary". Happily she also had a few pretty bras. Not many, not even 10% of the number that Carol has - to please me Carol has bought a large number of VERY pretty bras - but it was still great news that D-Cup had some nice holders for her namesakes. None of the bras were thin, but none were as huge, thick and protective as Chloe's had been, thank God! They were mostly 34D's too, so I patted myself on my back while hoping that my next pats would be on someone else's front.

Her panties were similar to her bras, in that most were ordinary. I didn't want to rummage through her panties because they were harder to inspect and put back into their original positions, and I feared she'd notice and suspect I was a pervert. From what I could see, there weren't any G-strings or other wonderful designs. The back of her drawer held some panties made of sheerer fabric and they looked to contain less material than the others, but not dramatically less.

She had a small vanity setup on top of the set of drawers that contained her underwear. It had a mirror and a very limited array of makeup.

A quick check of the girls' bathroom revealed no birth control pills and very little in the way of additional makeup. It did contain four different types of shampoo, five different types of conditioner, eight different types of moisturizer (although most of them didn't call themselves by such a mundane name), three different soaps, plus several creams and lotions that I couldn't comprehend the labels of enough to assign to a category.

Carol wanted to know what they were, so I read out some of the names. Carol was impressed, which meant that I should be too because my girls don't let money - or the amount of shelf space in our bathroom - stand in the way of their cosmetic purchases.

Having gleaned some clues about D-Cup's personality, it was time to move on to the risky part. If I hadn't done a good job of reassuring her earlier, Carol and I would very shortly be driving home while I worked on inventing a Plan B.

D-Cup's purse and cellphone were in my car. I'd asked Carol to turn the phone on a couple of minutes ago so any noises it made would be over with before we moved on to the active part of my plan. Now that it'd told us about the missed calls, etc., I flew her phone and purse toward her house.

Her bedroom window was too small for the second use I wanted to put it to, so I didn't bother opening it for these two items. Instead I opened the large sliding door they had going outside to their backyard from their living room. The stolen items entered that way and flew through the house to D-Cup's bedroom door. I opened it slowly to avoid making noise, slipped the items inside, then carefully closed the door again.

I moved them to be floating in the air a few inches in front of her face, then created a mini-Guardian Angel that was about four inches across and much dimmer than normal. It was positioned at the base of her bed on the side that she was facing so she'll see it when she opens her eyes. I started stroking her cheek.

The first stroke had no effect, the second made her smile, and halfway through the third her eyes FLEW wide open and her head shot around to look at who was touching her.

I moved the Guardian Angel and stolen items back into her line of sight, the angel staying past the foot of the bed. I lightly placed an NP-fingertip across her lips and stroked her cheek and hair with other fingertips.

She still looked panicky, and opened her mouth to draw a breath. I quickly moved her phone and purse right in front of her eyes and jiggled them to distract her. I also moved the Guardian Angel three feet farther away. I pressed her lips together more forcefully. Not in any way violent, and she could easily scream if she wanted to, but I hoped enough to help her decide not to scream.

I moved the angel even farther away, all the way to the far wall where it hid 75% of its 'body' behind an ornament on a shelf. It was doing everything but roll on its back and wave its legs in the air.

D-Cup paused with her mouth open, but I could see that it she wasn't screaming. It was just open in quiet shock. That was perfect as far as I was concerned.

I jiggled her items again.

She snaked a hand out from under the covers and plucked the most important item out of the air, pressing a few buttons to confirm it worked.

I placed her purse on the bed covers, right in front of her nose.

D-Cup put her phone down on the covers to use both of her hands to check her purse.

Once she'd seen that the contents of her purse were as they should be, hopefully reassuring her further, I slowly floated the phone up a few inches and faced its screen toward her. I typed in a text message, "God wishes me to apologize. I am very sorry. I not know Miss Nevaeh Smith in the crowd."

Unsurprisingly, she was puzzled. I hoped she was also very intrigued by getting a message that implied she was of direct interest to Heaven. Intrigued was much better than screaming in panic. She read and re-read it, frowning in even more puzzlement. Only the last two sentences were fully displayed, part of the first piece of bullshit having scrolled off the top while I typed the message. I was pretty sure she remembered it all though, so I didn't bother trying to bring it back.

D-Cup opened her mouth, but I placed a finger across her lips again, which quieted her.

I typed, "I would not have destroyed this phone and your purse if I had known. God has fixed them for you."

Her eyes went WIDE at that! She was very impressed; as was Carol that I'd been so outrageousness. I told Carol, "All over the world, the churches make equally outrageous claims about their mythical God's actions, so I am too."

I typed more on D-Cup's phone: "Is important to God and u that u come with me. Is quick, safe. Please?" I'm playing the Big Guy's card frequently and hard. You might think that's being too manipulative and sneaky, but in my defense I offer the first word of the next paragraph.

D-Cup wasn't happy with that idea. She reached for the phone and I let her take it. She scrolled up and down through the accumulated message, reading it again. Still puzzled, she saved the message, cleared the screen, then typed, "Why?", turning it around to face the angel across the room.

I moved the Guardian Angel back to just below the base of her bed. Obviously not so I could read the screen, but to show her that she could interact with it and nothing bad would happen. I floated the phone out of her hand, turned it around to face her, then typed, "Sorry, not for me to say. God wants done It's way. I promise you safe. Angels cannot lie." Being fictitious makes it impossibly difficult for angels to tell lies.

I stroked her cheek gently while she thought about it.

She took the phone, saved the message, then typed her own, "Where go? How long? M&D come?"

I answered, "Trust in God. This is for Good. Please faith in yourself; you good person."

#5: <Not too good I hope.>

She typed, "I'm scared."

"Yes. God only wants u if u strong. R u?"

I pulled the side of her bedclothes open so she could get out of bed, took hold of one of her hands, and pulled her gently toward the open side of the bed. I wasn't pulling hard, and she was easily able to stay right where she was. I kept pulling with the same force.

She started speaking, but I gently pinched her lips closed then waved the current message in front of her face again.

I was debating if I needed to get the Guardian Angel to pretend to leave, maybe with a "I'm sorry u not suitable for God" (don't worry, I wouldn't have given up on her, just thought of then used another approach) but D-Cup saved me from that game by finding the courage to get out of bed.

#15: <GOOD Girl! Christian girls at least have the advantage of being incredibly gullible.>

#20: <Yeah, if they can believe the nonsense in the Bible, they can believe anything, especially if it's hovering right in front of them.>

D-Cup had stood on a 3' x 3' NP-plate I'd created and placed on the floor for her to stand on. I'd retained my hold on her first hand, and I now took her other hand too, to help her keep her balance as I raised the plate a few inches.

The surprise made her say something short. I couldn't tell what it was, but I was hoping for, "Fuck me!"

I slowly accelerated the plate toward the door, holding her hands to keep her steady on it. The door opened for her, and the cellphone followed.

At the time D-Cup was passing through the doorway, the Guardian Angel moved through the wall, to be in the hallway ahead of her. I hoped that'd impress the pants off her. Speaking of which, she was wearing a boring nightie. It fell to mid-thigh, making it shorter than her dresses, but that was the only faintly sexy thing about it - other than the two very large lumps in it. Not that the nightie mattered much because it will hopefully be off her soon.

The Guardian Angel led the way to the living room. D-Cup was visibly nervous, but she was being moved slowly and I wasn't holding her hard, so she didn't feel too threatened. But she got considerably more nervous as soon as she saw she was heading for the open door to the outside, so I halted her movement, removed 75% of the force I was using to hold her hands, then floated the cellphone up to her eyes again, so she could re-read, "Yes. God only wants u if u strong. R u?"

The Guardian Angel moved about two feet outside the door, then stopped to wait for her to make up her mind.

She thought about it, then reached for the phone.

I moved it back a foot, and she stopped her attempt. I saved the message for her later perusal, moved the phone closer so she could read it easily, then typed a new one, "Ur choice back or fwd. This only 1st test. R u strong for God?"

#6: <We're laying it on too thick.>

#19: <The angel can tell her all sorts of crap to get her moving forward, but it will be her real conversation with us that will control how far she actually goes.>

#6: <You're right. Carry on.>

D-Cup made up her mind. She stood up straight and nodded determinedly at the Guardian Angel.

I patted her on the back to congratulate her for her faith in God, tightened my grip on her hands slightly, then slowly accelerated her out the door. She didn't even look back as we passed into the outside. She was looking more and more like my favorite sort of girl: gorgeously bodied and highly gullibly minded.

I flew her around the outside of the house toward the street, zigzagging her around trees and bushes. It would've been more direct to go up and over the house but it was important to minimize her stress.

Like many streets in Corvallis, hers had trees growing along it. I stopped her in a carefully selected spot beside a large tree, lowering her to the grass where I canceled the plates she was on. She could feel the grass under her bare feet and immediately looked more relieved.

I held up the phone to her, typing, "2nd test now. This easy for you."

I was still holding her hands, and now I pulled them gently up in the air. She let them rise.

When her hands were fully vertical, I started lifting the hem of her nightie up.

It took her a second or so before she felt what was happening, and then her hands PULLED out of my soft grip, shot down and held her nightie hard against her thighs.

I entered a new message, "You have poor understanding of God if u think any harm will befall u. This is being done for ur benefit, to teach u something VERY important for u to know. If u cooperate, in 15 min u will laugh at how foolish u r now. This I promise; I cannot lie. Trust God; It works in mysterious ways."

I gave D-Cup the phone so she could scroll up and down while she thought about it.

She'd calmed down considerably, but a large part of that would be because I was no longer pulling her nightie up. I wasn't touching her anywhere at the moment, and the mini-Guardian Angel was hovering dimly ten feet away.

She read and re-read the message again, which was certainly a lot better than running screaming back into her home.

After a long think, she saved the message and typed, "U could make me?"

I answered, "No. This is for ur benefit. Cannot be forced or benefit lost. You must agree to do or I leave."

#5: <How did guys seduce girls before cellphones were invented?>

#13: <Maybe they used less elaborate bullshit.>

After some more thought, D-Cup typed, "People might see me."

"Trust God. It works in mysterious ways."

She thought about it some more.

#14: <We need to find a girl with D cups, who's gullible, but isn't such a wimp. It's hard finding the perfect girl.>

#3: <We are pushing her a LONG way.>

D-Cup raised her arms.

I didn't waste any time celebrating, instead getting the nightie off her very quickly indeed. By now I was very eager to see some return - where "return" means "tit" - for all the effort I was putting into this. Instead I saw a bra and panties.

#6: <Good grief! It CAN'T possibly be comfortable to sleep in a bra.>

#14: <I'll take your word for that.>

#20: <What gets me is the huge battle we had just to get her down to something that most girls wear less of at the Aquatic Center.>

I didn't want two more battles, so I typed another message, "Remove rest yourself. Drop on ground. Nearly too late; please hurry." I'd dropped the nightie on the ground beside her, to give her the idea.

To my considerable surprise, D-Cup quickly complied, removing her bra and panties.

#19: <She must've made that decision already. I guess it was obvious we wanted her to strip.>

#20: <One thing I like is that she took her bra off before her panties. Chloe would've done it the other way around, except that she wouldn't have done it at all. D-Cup isn't as large as Chloe, but she more than makes up for that by not being insane.>

As soon as she straightened up after dropping her panties on the pile, I picked up the pile and flew it rapidly out of sight back into her property. By the time she'd taken a breath and half raised the hand covering her breast to protest, her clothes were out of sight and the Guardian Angel had disappeared. She subsided.

^

[I imagine you're surprised that a girl would strip naked outside; it doesn't seem believable. It doesn't even seem believable that I'd be silly enough to try to get her to do it. It certainly didn't happen because the angel had already stripped her once so she'd willingly strip for it again. I didn't know much about how girls thought, but I knew they didn't think that way. I attempted it because:

1. I'd learned from Chloe Moon not to waste my time with Christian girls. I wanted to find out as quickly as possible if the direct path would work, so that's what I tried first. I could always use a Plan B if it didn't, assuming I still wanted her after seeing the manner in which she'd refused Plan A. If she'd refused with all sorts of Christian drama crap, I might've chucked the whole seduction away. If she'd refused reasonably then I would've tried a Plan B. There was no real downside to starting with such a direct approach.

2. I suspected it had a decent chance of working. The church she goes to is the Galloping Ninnies, which is a very authoritarian church. I'd read their website quite thoroughly because I was astonished at how transparently obvious their control game was. They state up front that going to their church means not thinking for yourself and doing everything the church leaders tell you. That message is given behind a veneer of religious verbiage, but the veneer is so thin it's transparent. One of the approaches I'd thought of for Nevaeh was to have the Guardian Angel command her to do what I wanted, but I'd decided against it because a relationship based on orders would have no "thrill of the chase", and would have been tedious after it'd started. Nonetheless, as her church does, the angel's text messages were designed to encourage her to give responsibility over to a religious authority figure, God in this case. He'd seemed like a good choice.

Nevaeh had gone along with it because:

1. She was a very religious girl, where the version of religion is what she'd learned from her very authoritarian church. God wanting her to do something, although presented as a request, had a truly powerful effect on her. GOD wanted HER to do something! It was effectively a command.

2. As you'll read later, her parents are particularly religious and prominent in the Ninnies, so she'd been very well brainwashed for many years.]

^

Having FINALLY gotten her into the position I wanted, I started the next stage of my plan. Carol and I were sitting in my Lexus convertible with the roof down and the engine off, parked on the side of the street around the nearest corner. I lifted the car about three feet off the ground, and flew it silently around the corner and toward D-Cup.

Where the angel had placed her, the trees obscured her view of our approach. It was also a still night and my car was silent. With its roof down, Carol's and my voices would be easily heard. At the right point I gave Carol's leg a squeeze, and she started reciting her script, asking me with apparent confusion, "You don't have ANY idea where we're going?"

"No idea at all. The angel has NEVER done anything like this before. It's only ever..."

"Stop Mark! There's a naked girl there."

"I can't stop, the angel is ... Oh, it's lowering us."

D-Cup had tried to hide behind a tree but NP forced her to stay where she was, by acting as a wall in each direction she tried to flee.

Carol exclaimed, "Don't look at her, Mark! She's upset."

"Okay."

I looked the other way. I even shut my eyes, which had the benefit of letting me use two sight blobs to see everything with.

Carol got out of the car, approached D-Cup, and asked her, "Are you all right?"

The Guardian Angel reappeared about three feet to the side of the two girls.

D-Cup was surprised, but Carol wasn't, saying, "Oh, the angel's here." Carol turned to me, "The angel's here, Mark."

I kept looking away, saying back, "It's up to something. Is the girl still upset?"

"Yes," answered Carol. Adding, "Hang on, I'll give her my nightie." Carol was wearing the most boring nightie she had, to appear virtuous. I was wearing pajama bottoms only, so I obviously couldn't offer to give anything to D-Cup. Carol pulled her nightie off over her head, rendering her naked (no bra or panties for Carol, not that she wears them to bed anyway). Carol passed her nightie to D-Cup, saying, "Put this on."

Before D-Cup could react, the pesky angel plucked the nightie out of Carol's hand and flew it into D-Cup's property.

Carol called to me, "The angel took my nightie, Mark. I have a feeling it wants her to remain naked."

"Find out her name while I get the blanket out of the trunk. I won't look at her."

I popped the trunk and sidled around the side of the car, very carefully facing away from D-Cup the whole time.

While I was getting the blanket out, Carol introduced herself, "Hi. I'm Carol Anderson, Mark's sister. Who are you and what's Mark's angel doing with you?"

D-Cup answered, "I'm Nevaeh Smith. I don't know what it's doing. It made me strip and it won't let me move."

"That's very strange..."

I interrupted, "I've got the blanket, Carol. Please come and get it from me."

"Okay."

Carol tried, but the naughty angel stole the blanket too.

After Carol informed me of that piece of mischief, I said, "The angel's definitely up to something. We need to talk about this. I'll keep my eyes shut, so can you lead me over there please, Carol?"

"Sure."

Carol came the few steps to me, taking my arm in her usual manner and leading me over to D-Cup. The fact that Carol was naked and my bare upper-arm was pressed into her breast was something she and I completely ignored. D-Cup noticed though, but decided to say nothing. I did my "Blind Man" routine as Carol steered me toward D-Cup. I was walking toward her and my face was pointing her way, but I had my eyes closed. That wasn't enough for D-Cup, she tried once again to move behind a tree but the angel wouldn't let her. Even though her best bits were covered by her hands and arms, D-Cup still demanded of me, "Don't look!"

"I'm not. My eyes are shut."

By now Carol had stopped us in front of D-Cup. I extended my hand in an offer to shake hands, my hand deliberately at not quite the right angle, saying, "Hi, I'm Mark Anderson. I didn't catch how you pronounce your name?"

"Please look away!"

Carol explained, "Nevaeh, Mark has already said he won't look. He knows you don't want him to, so he won't."

"But he could open his eyes."

Carol used that to justify delivering the line we'd scripted, "Mark is SO moral that God has given him an angel! Isn't that incredible? You've never met ANYONE in your entire life more trustworthy than Mark, so your worrying about him looking at you is unnecessary."

I repeated, "I won't look at you. Is your home nearby?"

"Ahh, just behind me."

"Good. Let's get off the street and go inside for a talk."

D-Cup moaned, "I CAN'T MOVE!"

"I'm guessing that the angel wants us to meet and to talk, and now that we have, it'll let us walk somewhere together."

I must be a good guesser because the angel immediately led the way back onto D-Cup's property. She didn't want to go first, clearly still worried about me sneaking a peek, so Carol led me while D-Cup followed us.

We didn't get to go inside, as the angel had spread the conveniently provided blanket in a quiet corner of their garden. It was an especially quiet corner because once we were standing on the blanket, I built a high NP-box around us, leaving just the center of the top open for some fresh air. We could talk at normal volumes now without anyone at ground level hearing us.

We sat on the blanket with me roughly facing D-Cup, Carol in front and to the side of me, leaning back on me with my arm around her. We often sit like this, with NP providing me with a backrest - it's very useful ability. My eyes were shut and they remained that way. D-Cup was very suspicious initially and often checked.

The angel was to one side, and it got things started by calling up the list of saved messages and giving Carol the phone.

Carol asked, "What's this list, Nevaeh?" Nevaeh never did introduce herself to me properly, but considering the circumstances I can't say I really blame her. Carol pronounced Nevaeh's name as "neh-VAY-uh", and Nevaeh never (pronounced "nev-er") corrected Carol, so it was presumably right.