Ghost

The young man was sat at his usual bench in the park, eating lunch by the skate ramps. Eliane appreciated the view as much as he did. She slid into place next to him but he made no sign of having seen her.

"Boo," she whispered.

He jumped, glancing around, but looking right through her. "Fucking hell, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days..."

Eliane chuckled and tickled him lightly on the back of the neck, then when he flapped in that direction, gave him feather light touches around his smooth face, skinny chest, wiry arms, until he sighed in frustration and gave up trying to fight her.

She was pleased, the suggestions were holding well, not only couldn't he see her, but it didn't occur to him to grab her hand or wrestle her away. He was helpless and didn't know why.

"Shh, Jessie," she breathed in his ear, "you're safe now, I'm here."

He relaxed with a childlike smile, eyes glazing slightly, and her heart went out to him. He'd been so drunk the night they'd met, wild and broken, and something had called out to her. It hadn't taken much to seduce him, she was half lost too, and they'd fallen into instant rapport, both trying to blot out the pain with booze, loud music, and feral lust.

She'd let him remember that night, but had shut away his ability to connect it with his invisible tormentor. Perhaps a part of him knew who she was, but so long as it just stayed nice and quiet while she had her way, it didn't really matter.

Eliane stroked his hair gently, enjoying the feeling of his long, dark locks sliding through her fingers. She felt protective of him, like an older sister, helping him have some direction in his life. A slightly sick direction, but he'd told her all his fantasies while he was under, wishing he was brave enough to try them out, and it was her pleasure to help him fulfil them.

"OK, playtime for Jessie now," she murmured.

Immediately he sat up straighter, looked older, more assured. His eyes took on a predatory gleam as he looked over at the skater boys.

"That one keeps checking you out," Eliane was more than invisible now, she was just a voice in his head, on the edge of his consciousness, but impossible to resist.

Jessie smiled, he'd been plotting his moves before she'd arrived anyway, not realising that he'd actually carry them out.

"Go and get him," she gently commanded, sitting back to enjoy the show. Her protégé was an excellent operator, chatting smoothly to the kids, only a few years younger than him anyway. Without it being obvious, Jessie managed to home in on the cute guy who'd been looking over, and the others drifted away while he reeled him in.

Eliane knew better than to interfere with this, Jessie was a natural at friendly persuasion, he just needed a bit of a boost in confidence. She slipped away to let herself into his flat and wait for the next stage.

It wasn't long before the pair arrived, she listened from the bedroom as they chatted, and smirked when the usual seduction album started to play. Peering round the door, she was pleased to see that things hadn't gone to far, time to make an entrance.

"Sleepytime for Jessie, now." She said briskly as she came into the living room. The skater boy turned round, startled, but her friend just fell back onto the sofa with a blissed out expression, eyes closed, and hand absently gliding over his groin.

The kid stood up nervously, "Uh, sorry, uh, I saw you at the park didn't I? Do you live here?" He looked back at the tranced man with fear and curiosity. "What have you done... hypnosis, right?"

Good, he was relatively bright, much more fun to work with. "Yes, clever boy," she purred, "he's deeply asleep and doesn't hear us." She sat down, and motioned that he should return to sit opposite her. "What's your name, baby?"

"Kurt," he answered as he warily perched on the edge of the seat.

Eliane laughed softly, probably the child of grunge parents, he'd lived up to his namesake with shaggy, dyed blond hair and a distant, haunted look.

"Erm, is this, like, a threesome thing?" He asked hesitantly.

She smiled, showing her teeth. "Would you like it if it was?"

"Um, I guess that'd be OK, I'm bi and stuff..."

"And stuff?"

He looked at her evenly. "I just go with the flow."

Good to know. "I'll let you get on with things in a minute, trust me, you won't even know I'm here."

He grinned wryly and nodded to the sofa. "What, like him?"

Yes, definitely a smart one. "It looks quite nice, though, doesn't it? He's happy, relaxed, turned on, no worries, no concerns, no responsibilities, just drifting, feeling so good..."

Despite himself, the skater was drawn into her soothing description, watching the other man's chest rise and fall regularly, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing. Jessie's erection was straining at his tight jeans, pressing against his hand a little with every heartbeat. It was too entrancing a tableau to resist, and soon Kurt's own breath had fallen in time, his eyelids drooping, he sank back against the cushions, his own cock tenting a little in his cut-offs.

Eliane wished this could go on forever, they were so peaceful, so perfect. She kept her voice as quiet as possible, not wanting to break the spell, as she subtly linked his focus on Jessie to not needing to consciously see or hear her. She'd have to see how well he took direction, he seemed submissive to the older man anyway, so she just reinforced how arousing it was to let other people make decisions for you, hoping that would be enough. After telling him that he didn't need to remember seeing her - he'd just spaced out listening to the music, she woke both of them up slowly and waited.

They blinked, and grinned shyly at each other, not sure if they'd been the only one to doze off.

"Wow, that's some band there, I totally went!" said Kurt, awed, not looking in Eliane's direction at all.

She relaxed, it seemed to be working. "Get Kurt a drink, have one too."

Jessie swung into action, turning the record over, then getting a bottle and glasses. He was efficient and sexy, cool enough to impress the younger man, easygoing enough to inspire trust. He handed over a glass of amber spirits, looking cheekily through his fringe, pale eyes darker than usual. "You old enough to drink?"

Kurt sipped at his whiskey, obviously not that used to it. "Heh, yeah... just."

Corrupting the innocent, her favourite game. "Stick your finger in your glass, then put it in his mouth. Say this..."

"Maybe you need me to teach you..." he repeated after her, parting Kurt's pillowy lips with his finger. As they boy looked up at him through long lashes and suckled, they both knew that he wasn't innocent at all. Somehow, Jessie managed to turn his longing into an arrogant air of entitlement.

Eliane wasn't so strong, whimpering a little at the sight, before gasping, "Drink but don't swallow, kiss him, let it flow into his mouth."

Her puppet obeyed, as much in thrall to the sensual compliance of his conquest as he was to her orders. The kid was good, very good: leading Jessie back to the sofa while seeming to be the one being guided.

The woman watching couldn't compete, she felt a stab of bittersweet pain at not being part of the scene in front of her. "Use him, use each other, just do what comes naturally," she rasped, breathing raggedly.

Time slowed, strong hands undressing each other, claiming skin, caressing and teasing. Lips on cocks, tongues in assholes, she lost track of who was who, wishing beyond reason that she had half the power this fair haired teenager had.

Eventually, watcher and watched were all spent, she'd kept turning the album over, but it had faded to silence again. The sweat dried on naked bodies in the dim light, and a peace settled over them.

Kurt stroked the other man's hair fondly, "I've got to go back for tea, Mum'll be expecting me."

Jessie groaned, "fuck, I feel like such a perv when you say things like that."

"Heh, don't be silly," the boy replied as he pulled on his clothes, "I mean, you are a perv, but not 'cos I'm eighteen."

Eliane felt more invisible than ever. Although she'd felt privileged to witness the passion that had passed between them, she still felt like an interloper, a parasite. She felt sickened by herself, wished that she could just have something pure for a change.

"Wanna take my number?" asked Jessie.

"Sure," replied Kurt, but as they fiddled with their phones he continued, "I'm not sure I'm quite what you're after though."

The older guy was on the back foot again. "Huh?"

"Never mind, you'll work it out," he walked to the door, and turned before he left. "Oh, and thank you."

Eliane shivered, she could have sworn he'd been looking right at her when he said it.

Puppyboy

I went to a fetish fair, with another couple of first timers and a friend who goes regularly. On the newbies tour round the venue, Cindy was fascinated by all the vintage costumes and vertiginous shoes, but I hadn't really seen anything that grabbed my attention. Until I saw him.

Tight full body black rubber suit showing off his skinny punk boy physique, paw hand restraints, and a stylised dog mask with floppy ears. He was being led around on a collar and leash by an unassuming looking master wearing a hoodie and band T-Shirt, and Puppyboy wasn't acting like an animal at all, just casually walking and chatting. There was no overt dominance going on, but, really, there didn't need to be.

If it wasn't for his eyes, I wouldn't have been so transfixed, but there was a soft, given look in them, an expression of complete satisfaction. He was in his rightful place, he didn't have to worry about anything, he was complete.

I followed him around a little, drinking in the sight, but too shy to approach. I wouldn't have known what to say anyway, it was a strange kind of desire that was fired in me, I think I wanted to be him rather than own him. Not because of the outfit, not because I wanted to be a puppy, but I just longed for that peace in his eyes, that knowledge that he was leashed, controlled, and all was right with the world.

Controlled and Obedient

Trudy closed the chat window, leaned back in her chair and sighed happily.  Sure, she'd lost three hours when she'd only meant to have a quick conversation, but it had been worth it.  She was a bit fuzzy about exactly what had happened, but it had definitely been fun, the dampness of her knickers showed that beyond doubt.

It meant she had to rush to get to the art preview at her friend's gallery, but somehow she didn't feel stressed.  As she showered, she lingered the spray over her clit, and could almost feel someone licking there, his hands holding onto her behind.  She shivered a little with how vivid the hallucination was, but just kept going a little longer, a little longer.

She was so worked up it didn't take long to get to the edge of coming, and as she hung there for a moment, she heard the voice in her head getting louder, more insistent controlled and obedient, controlled and obedient, obey, obey, obey...

As she fell into orgasm part of her mind was surprised that she'd got there without needing to touch herself, but the thought was soon washed away in the water running down her legs.

The nice, relaxed feeling stayed with her as she walked down the road and got on the bus.  It was as if the part of her brain that worried about things was asleep, leaving her free to enjoy the everyday things she normally ignored: the feeling of the breeze against her skin, the colours of leaves against the sky, the smell of the food stalls.  She laughed to herself at how simple things seemed, how easy it was to just live in her body for once, rather than dismiss it as an unreliable container for her mind.

Even the bitching and status seeking at the party didn't seem to penetrate her haze.  Trudy smiled and chatted brightly, and noticed how easy it was to find the right words to say to people, the best body language to convey interest in what they were saying, along with confidence in her own words.  She felt as if she was someone else, and yet more herself than ever.

Something was helping her, as if a hole she hadn't known was there had been filled.  She stood and tried to work it out, and again, on the edge of her hearing, was a voice gently whispering  controlled and obedient, controlled and obedient...


It was so strange, she'd imagined that feeling controlled and obe- ... that feeling like that would have made her more passive, scared, like she couldn't think for herself, but instead it made her feel stronger, worth more.  She had a secret, something she could draw on when she needed.  She wasn't exactly being puppeted, but an invisible hand was guiding her, protecting her.

It felt... man, it felt really fucking good...

Let me win

My head was on my arms on the table and I groaned a little.

"What's up now?" He asked. We'd ended up last of our group in the pub, and he was probably just worried I'd drunk too much and he'd have to help me outside to puke.

"Nothing, just men doing my head in." I replied, and sat up to take a sip of water.

He tutted. "I don't know why you let them hurt you like this, I know you're into all that, but..."

I stopped him. "Chance'd be a fine thing!  He's not doing anything to hurt me, that's the problem!"

He frowned at me. "Oh, I don't want to know this..."

I didn't listen. "I'm just... bored. I can't get on with my life because I'm craving some nastiness, some darkness..."

"Can't you just, I don't know, fuck yourself up a bit?"

"What do you think I'm doing now?" We stared at each other a little too long. Eventually I looked away and broke the silence, "It's not about pain, anyway. It's just a means to an end."

"So what is it about?"

I sighed, and declared the obvious. "Control."

He considered this for a while then stood up. "I need another drink."



There was a pint on the table in front of me. "Oh, I don't know, I think I've -"

"Drink." His tone was strange, I had the glass to my lips before I knew what I was doing. "Do you want to be my pet?" He continued casually.

I spluttered and went red. "Wh- What do you mean?"

"I was just wondering if that was what all this was about, if you were trying to get me to... take charge." He sipped his drink and looked at me with an odd expression.

"No, God, no, sorry..." I was thrown. I'd been flirting with him recently, but I didn't think it was going anywhere. Still... When he'd asked... I'd felt something like... joy?

I looked down at the table, he was idly drawing something in some spilt beer, something like a zigzag? A circle? I went cold. It was a spiral. I looked up and he met my gaze. "Drink," he said again. I complied.

Somehow I managed to speak. "I'm not, you know... I'm not trying to get off with you.

He laughed. "I should hope not, I don't find you very attractive" I was cut, his words stabbing into me like hot blunt knives. I felt tears in my eyes. His smile was familiar and unsettling at the same time. "Shh, pet, what's wrong? I thought you liked some emotional pain, a little psychological torture?"

Things seemed to be spinning wildly. "What's going on?" I whispered shakily.

"Same as always, we're just hanging out, fucking with each other's heads, I was just suggesting... that sometimes... you can let me win..."

I rushed outside into the cool night air, and retched up my guts on the pavement.