Sandcastles
Copyright© 2009 by NightShade
Chapter 14
Mind Control Sex Story: Chapter 14 - A story of relationships and learning to live and love as life and circumstances change. This story has been described as a BDSM romance novel. I wrote this story beginning in 1998 and finishing in 2002. I have made slight edits and corrections for SOL. ATTENTION: Chapter 22 ends with a scene that is not coded. Straight males may want to skim the last 10% or so of this chapter. Sorry, but it was a necessary part of the story.
Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Consensual Rape Mind Control Mystery Paranormal BDSM MaleDom Harem Oral Sex Slow Violence
After a surprisingly short rest, both girls regained their perkiness of before, and we prepared to leave. As we left, the three women embraced each other tenderly. I looked at Amud and smiled, holding out my hand. He took my outstretched hand in both of his in a sign of friendship.
"Would you and your wife consider visiting us sometime?" I asked him. "There are so many questions I have, so much I have to learn." I paused, a little embarrassed at my admissions. "Sally is so far ahead of me. I do not want to lose her."
He grinned broadly. "I, uh, we would be proud to visit. My wife has no one to talk to here in this new land. This trip today is her first journey from our home in many months. It is hard to keep our customs in this open land. Yes, we would be most pleased to visit you."
We exchanged addresses, and found that his house was surprisingly close to ours. His anticipation of the visit was palpable, and we set the date for one week later, dinner. I told him I would call him to make sure we complied with all the necessary customs to make his visit to our home comfortable. When he looked surprised, I told him I would not want to place him in a position where he or his wife would be offended or insulted by something offered or done. He seemed amused and amazed at that concept that someone in this country would care.
The next stop on the afternoon's itinerary was several blocks away, and after an invigorating walk, the two vixens were back in full form. Worse, if I was any judge. There was not a single passerby who was not flashed by twin high beams peeking out from under those short tops, male and female alike. I was beginning to wonder if we would make it to the next shop without being attacked.
I loosened the retaining safety strap on the holster of the pistol in the small of my back, just in case. I had not told Sally of the gun. I had never brought it into her house, but always kept it in the car, if not close to hand, at least close by. We had not discussed guns, and I didn't know how she felt about them. It was her house, after all and I wasn't about to bring it in without discussing it with her first. But after the way breakfast had gone, I figured I was better prepared than unprepared. I had quietly slipped the gun out from under the driver's seat after breakfast.
The crowds thinned out and were completely gone as we turned the last corner. We made our way without incident to an unmarked door for the next appointment. We stepped into a plain entry way and then down a long hall to a small shop in the back of the deep building. The silence grew as we drew closer to a heavy door.
"Will a boogie-man jump out at us behind the door?" asked Janey.
I grinned and then yelled "BOOOO" while jumping sideways. Both my companions screamed satisfactorily, and then fell on me, beating me ineffectively with their clenched fists. We were still laughing and play-fighting - with me losing - when the door swung silently open.
"So, you're finally here," boomed an authoritarian voice. It had a distinctly northern European accent. "Only ten minutes late. Better than I expected, given the ambitious schedule you had."
A tall woman stood in the open doorway, looking down her nose at us regally. She addressed us in short, clipped sentences in accented English. Her gray-blonde hair was pulled back into a severe bun. She looked slowly back and forth between the two skimpily dressed women in the hall, examining them in turn, finally settling on Janey.
"So, she came too. That is good," was her comment.
Turning away from the entrance, she simply said, "Come."
Confronted with this daunting woman, the girls were silent for once and we followed her through a small empty waiting room and continued into a room populated with clinical examination equipment. Two identical exam tables were set up, side by side. Each station was 'manned' by a younger version of the blonde woman standing in readiness beside it.
The older woman turned to us. "I am Dr. Rosen. These are my daughters, Dr. Rosen and Dr. Rosen." She allowed herself a small smile as she saw the confusion and amusement on our faces.
Janey handled it the best, as she immediately stuck out her hand and said first to the elder lady, "Nice to meetcha, Dr. Rosen." She went over to the nearest daughter, "Nice to meetcha, Dr. Rosen," and then to the second daughter, "Nice to meetcha, too, Dr., uh, sorry, I didn't catch your name... ?"
The shocked look on the second daughter's face was priceless and brought a tremendous guffaw from her mother.
With that, the ice was broken and we all relaxed with a good laugh. I made introductions and Sally and Janey learned the women's names were Helga, Inga, and Uta, in that order. And that the mother preferred "Dr. Rosen."
"Very good Miss Janey, not many people can top our introduction. I enjoyed the laugh." Businesslike once more, Dr. Rosen continued, "Now. Janey, you will go with Uta. Sally, you go with Inga. I will supervise. You, Mr. Sampson, may watch. But in silence, please."
An interesting attitude for a shopkeeper, but the good Dr. Rosen was used to having her way. She was also one of very few experts I could have turned to for the particular type of help I sought. I stayed quiet and out of the way as I watched the two lab-coated women efficiently strip my charges, help them up onto the two exam tables, fit their legs in the stirrups, and strap down their legs and arms. Their legs were spread wide, much wider than necessary for a simple exam. Then again, this was not going to be a simple exam.
I caught each of their concerned looks and nodded reassuringly just as the gas masks descended and they were instructed to count backwards from 100. Neither Sally nor Janey made it past 97.
Dr. Helga Rosen's specialty was the study of female arousal. Rather than just studying how it happened, however, she wanted to be able make it happen on command, to control it. Over the course of her lifetime, she had developed and invented a wide variety of electronic and pharmaceutical methods of achieving it and heightening the levels of female arousal. Most of her inventions and devices made the commercially available sex toys look laughable in comparison. I was tempted to tell her of Amud's sauce, but declined, deciding to save it for a later visit.
I had discovered the three Dr. Rosens on a trip to Norway. After much persuasion, I convinced them that the need for their services was greater in America than in their homeland. It took some doing, transferring medical degrees between countries and getting visas, but they had eventually arrived with a trunk full of clothes and their heads full of ideas.
The boutique atmosphere of The Guild attracted thousands of frustrated rich women, many of whom found their way to the small waiting room we had passed through. Business had been slow for about a week. Then word of mouth started their phones ringing. The three Dr. Rosens had not slowed down since. It had been a tremendous favor to me to get this time scheduled for Sally and Janey on such short notice, but they were appreciative of my efforts and support, including a couple of talks with Judge Hawthorne to facilitate their immigration paperwork when they arrived.
I wondered briefly how the Judge's wife and daughter would react to the good doctors' handiwork. If there were ever two women immune to orgasm, I imagined it would have to be one or both of those two. Time would tell. He had mentioned at the restaurant something about looking for some 'major changes' in a few months. He hadn't specified work, but his wife obviously thought so. Maybe I should talk with Dr. Rosen and set up a visit for the two Hawthorn women. I would also suggest a few modifications to their normal procedure.
But, for now, my two treasures were about to become the most recent recipients of an accumulated 70 years of research and experience on inducing the female orgasm. I hoped we all would benefit.
Sally was into bondage. That was painfully obvious to me. I, on the other hand, had been hooked on technical sex gadgets since I discovered I could attach a motor with an offset gear to a chair and give my sister a thrill. My sister was older than I, and a whole lot smarter, as was attested to by her current lofty position as a Federal judge. The only way I thought I could compete with her was to keep her distracted. I later found out - she told me, out of pity, I think - that only the first time I used the motor had it been a surprise. She had watched me building the contraption in our small apartment, and my childish manipulations to get her to sit on that particular wooden chair in the kitchen had been painfully transparent. She knew I wasn't mean enough - or brave enough - to hurt her or shock her, so she let herself be manipulated into the seat.
You could have heard the on/off switch of that first crude device in the next apartment when it went off, and there was a distinct smell of burning insulation as the motor kicked in. The chair just about rattled across the floor, but the effect on her was a surprise, a pleasant surprise; very pleasant for her. She patiently and eagerly suffered through my modifications, sometimes sitting for hours in that noisy vibrating chair until the downstairs neighbor would complain. She admitted she thoroughly enjoyed most of the revisions, and admitted adding some acting and sound effects to encourage me.
My technical skills improved as I grew older, but had never come close to what the Rosens could do. I had never had the courage to try my handiwork on anyone other than my sister, and we had never done anything more sexual with each other than that. My plans and designs were the stuff of fantasies and week-long wet dreams. Never in my life had I dreamed my fantasies could be realixed.
I had promised Sally and Janey they wouldn't be hurt, and they wouldn't. There would be no scarring, no marks and no pain. But there would be some tiny additions to their bodies that weren't there before their visit. If things worked out, they would never know they were there. Until I set them off.
The Rosen's specialty was small stimulators that could be slipped into or onto a woman's body and controlled, either via a computer chip program or a sophisticated remote control or by simple physical pressure on the device. The miniaturization of their products would have made the Japanese envious. Each unit was custom fit and was individually tuned to the woman's body.
I watched as Inga and Uta taped electrodes to the sedated girls. The first step of the process was to find the most receptive areas, the erogenous zones, of the woman. Each woman had her own individual 'hot spots'. When found, they could be fitted with the appropriate device. The 'hot spots' were located by giving a series of stimuli, electric shocks, to various areas and then measuring the brain patterns via electrodes placed over the sexual pleasure centers in the brain.
The location process was begun in the two, and immediately there was a commotion in the lab. Inga would stimulate Sally, and Uta would record a response in Janey. The link that they kept referring to between the mother and daughter was measurable and real.
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