Message-ID: <25713asstr$965718603@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: michaeld38@aol.communism (MichaelD38) X-Original-Message-ID: <20000807131136.25485.00000285@nso-ch.aol.com> Subject: {ASSM} Vector, ch.10 {MichaelD} Date: Tue, 8 Aug 2000 03:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: apuleius, gill-bates AUTHOR'S NOTE AND LEGAL STUFF I did not e-mail you this story. If you unexpectedly found it in your mailbox, it's because your kid and/or your spouse is subscribing to adult newsgroups without your knowledge. Flame them, not me. This story contains explicit sex. If you're a minor, you've obviously gotten past whatever paltry filters your parents tried to put on your computer, so hell, you might as well read it. No one ever died from reading about sex. This story is mine. Free reposting and archiving is okay; commercial use is not (that includes using it on some slimeball banner farm). Contact me if you have any questions; cross me and I'll have you fed to rabid weasels. This is another serial like "Call Girl Cheerleaders." I have no idea where it's going or how it will end. Want to find out? Send me mail. My stories, including this one, are archived at: www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MichaelD/www/ www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Richard_Bissell/www (all the work of my alter ego) www.storiesonline.net (complete but not always up) --- VECTOR Copyright 2000 by MichaelD38@aol.com. No commercial use without prior authorization. <-> "My folks are kind of pissed at me," she said. "Why?" "They wanted me to go to church this morning. We had a fight about it, then they left." I smiled. "You're a bad girl now, or at least on your way there. Bad girls don't go to church." --Richard Bissell, "Amber: The Making of a Fuck Toy" <-> Chapter 10. Victor returned to his living room and sat at his desk. Hemingway was curled up on the sofa beside him and lifted up his head as Victor sat down. He leaned over, checking the bedroom, before speaking up. "Damn, Victor. That chick still alive? It sounded like you were killing her or something." "She's asleep." "I bet. So what'd you do? Fuck her mind as well as her body?" "Something like that." "I can't wait to see what you can do with Leslie once you get her over here." Victor went ice-cold in an instant--he had completely forgotten about Leslie. What was he supposed to do with her now? He was stuck with Meredith. Either he dissolved her, or he let her move in with him, because he could not turn her loose. But he could hardly continue anything with Leslie--what little there was--with Meredith waiting at home. Neither one of them would tolerate something like that. Or would they? Certainly they would not . . . not unless Victor made a few alterations. He looked toward the bedroom where Meredith was still dozing in post-coital bliss. He probed into her mind, trying to read the answers from her memories and inclinations. What he found was not too much of a surprise given what he had seen already. She would have preferred to have her man to herself, but given a choice between losing the man of her dreams and sharing him, she would share him. Not because she found the sharing at all attractive but because she didn't expect all that much for herself. Victor winced. Was he really considering this? Didn't he owe Meredith something, having created her out of thin air? Maybe. But what would happen with Leslie? Would she really care if Victor told her they had to break this off before it went any further? There was one way to find out. Victor reached across the city to Leslie's sorority house, where she was lying on her bed studying. He reached into her mind-- --and plunged right into a fantasy of the two of them having sex. Victor recoiled in shock. It had been like watching himself on a TV screen, like watching a Victor-puppet dancing on someone else's stage. Leslie had been reliving that dream the two of them had shared, courtesy of Guiliano da Vinci, and had been deeply into it, body and mind. He could sense her arousal all around him. He probed back into her, trying to keep her fantasy at a distance. He looked though her mind for her feelings about him. It was as much as he had feared. She was deeply into a crush on him, and spurning her advances would not go over well. So what would she do about Meredith? Victor looked deeper into her mind, and there he found something both surprising and familiar. It was Leslie, but not the shy, introspective Leslie he knew. It was the salacious and aggressive Leslie whom da Vinci had teleported into Victor's bedroom that first night. She hadn't been a construct. Da Vinci had just turned her secret inclinations loose. Then he came across something even more surprising: Leslie was bisexual. Oh, not outwardly. She had never been brave enough to express any of it. But in her mind, in her deepest fantasies, she dreamed of being able to. Dreamed of--dear God, Victor thought--of having both a man and a woman she could love at the same time. Just as she had done that first night with her red-headed clone. Victor suddenly remembered what da Vinci had told him the previous afternoon. _ Don't judge Leslie by her exterior._ he had said. _She's really a very shy and introspective girl. You'd be shocked at some of things I saw in her mind. The man who can crack that shell and turn her secret self loose is going to be very lucky._ Victor could see that shell, now that he knew to look for it. Outside was the innocent Leslie he knew. Inside was someone else entirely. Someone who would be quite willing to share Victor with another woman, as long as it was a woman she cared for and was attracted to. He withdrew from her mind. He sat there stunned for a moment, wondering what to do. Leslie might well go for this. What about Meredith? He reached out to her again. And there he ran up against an instant roadblock. Meredith was not the least bit bisexual. She had no interest in anything but men. The very thought of sex with another woman turned her off completely. She would probably do it if the man she loved wanted her to--she would submit to the idea just to make him happy--but she wouldn't enjoy it. Not at all. Which meant, of course, that neither would Leslie. She wanted someone like her, not someone who was just acting. Victor wavered. This would indeed not work without further alterations to Meredith's mind. But he had already altered quite a bit, for his benefit and for hers. And, he realized, he had to make more changes regardless, because otherwise she was going to want to go home eventually, if not tomorrow morning at least within a day or two. That he could not allow, for a whole raft of reasons. He sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound. He began by reaching out again for Leslie, looking into her brain for whatever it was that made her bisexual. A few moments of probing gave him the answer. It in fact had a biological basis--not genetic but something in her brain structure that attracted her to both men and women. He focused on it, copying it, and withdrew. He moved back into Meredith's mind, immediately seeing the differences between hers and Leslie's. He laid the template of Leslie's brain over hers, forcing the two to conform. In an instant, it was done. Meredith was now bisexual. He could read the patterns as easily as her low self-esteem. Then he went to work on her inhibitions about sharing him, trying to copy what he had seen in Leslie's head. A bit of further tweaking gave her a fetish for well-endowed blondes. He went back into her memories, spinning them around and reconstructing what she remembered from the past few weeks. The memory of the morning on the beach that he had already created was moved back almost a month. She and Victor had been dating since then, had hit it off immediately. Meredith was falling for him very fast. So fast that she began thinking of moving in with him after only a couple of weeks. The idea came up only a week ago. Victor agreed. "Move in with me," he had told her, "make yourself at home." And just this last weekend, she had done it. They had only just finished unpacking her few belongings yesterday. Then he reached out again to the real Meredith in Pasadena, and suddenly remembered something else. _His_ Meredith, his clone, had been cured of her self-destructive tendencies, but this one--to whom he really owed his experiences this afternoon--had not. There in her brain he saw all the problems and awful memories he had fixed earlier in the other Meredith. Feeling another twinge of guilt, he rapidly duplicated the corrections he had made. It was easy, even from long distance. Meeting this Meredith was out of the question, but maybe he had done something for her that would pay her back for . . . for . . . well, at least for borrowing her DNA, Victor thought. That taken care of, he looked for all the things "his" Meredith might bring with her, her clothes and personal belongings. It wasn't much, but Victor recreated them in his house, making space in his closet for her clothes. He created her dresser across the room from his, filling it with her underwear and odds and ends. He conjured her little knick-knacks onto the nightstand on her side of the bed, a photo of her with her deceased father when she was ten, a little ceramic cat she had had for years, the book she had been reading every night before going to bed. He recreated her makeup and shampoo and tampons in the bathroom. After less than a minute, he was done. He looked back over all the changes, hoping it was enough. It looked good enough to work, but he couldn't be sure. He didn't have enough experience. Meredith suddenly stirred, rolling over in the bed. She woke. Victor turned back to his computer, not watching with his eyes but monitoring her mind. She was confused again, momentarily. She rubbed her forehead and looked around, then shook her head as if to clear out the cobwebs of her nap. She got up, digging one of Victor's USC sweatshirts out of the closet. She put it on and came out to the living room. "Hey," he said, trying not to betray his nervousness. She put her arms around his neck from behind and kissed him. "Hi." "How do you feel?" She giggled softly. "Sore. But happy. What are you working on?" "Another article." "Are you hungry? I could make dinner." "Go ahead." Meredith went into the kitchen and began poking around. Victor allowed himself a glance at her naked behind as she went. This was easier than it ought to be. --- Victor woke up the next morning almost forgetting that he had a class to teach. Meredith insisted on a quick fifteen minutes of lovemaking before they got up, then went out to make him breakfast while he got into the shower. She had proven to be a competent, if unimaginative cook, and seemed content to take care of his needs as long as she got to live with him. As he drove to school, Victor swore to himself that he was going to work on boosting her self-image. When Victor got the university and arrived at his office, he was suddenly hit with a sense of the surreal. What the hell was he doing here? He no longer had to work. He no longer had to do anything he didn't want to. Unfortunately, resigning in the middle of the semester would be very bad form. If nothing else, he had responsibilities to his students. He needed to think about this first. Danielle was working in her office, and by reaching into her mind, he completely erased the memory of catching him and Leslie groping each other. He could see that she was still going to be troubled--manipulating emotions was beyond his abilities right now--but she at least would be unable to remember why. He spent the rest of his morning meeting with Jacob and Rochelle, his other TA, and working on a couple of journal articles. The 10 a.m. class went quickly enough, then he went back to his office to eat lunch. Meredith had packed him a ham-and-cheese sandwich and a banana, which he ate at his desk. Just before noon, there was a knock on his door. He looked up to see Leslie leaning in. He motioned her into the office, and she shut the door behind her. "Hi," she said softly. "Hi. I talked to Danielle. Everything is fine. She's just going to forget she saw anything." Leslie's eyes swelled in surprise. "Really?" "Really. She and I have been friends for a long time. She understands." Leslie's jaw dropped even further. "She does?" "Don't worry about her. Let me worry about that." "Okay." She sat down in one of the chairs before his desk. "I was so worried. When you didn't show up yesterday, I was afraid I had gotten you fired." Victor smiled. "Believe me, firing someone who has tenure is like trying to move the Rock of Gibraltar, even after something like that. It would have taken a lot longer than a day for me to lose my job." "I'm sorry about all this." "I'm an adult, Leslie. I can take my lumps." She looked up from her lap finally, smiling. He continued. "I've been thinking about what you suggested, going out of town." He watched as her face began to light up. "What would you think of going to Las Vegas for a few days?" Her jaw dropped a little, and she struggled for a reaction. "No pressure, Leslie. It's just an idea. Think about it. I don't need an answer today." She looked down at her lap again, hands squirming. "When would we do it?" "Whenever." "This weekend?" Victor gulped. "I could look into it." "You're not worried about getting caught?" "Not in Nevada." She looked up, smiling nervously. "Okay. I'd love to do that." Victor smiled, though internally he was cursing himself. He hadn't expected her to jump at the idea so fast. He still had to decide what to do with Meredith. And it was Wednesday, for Christ's sake! He had only two days to work this out. He took a deep breath and got up from his chair. He went around his desk and sat on the edge in front of Leslie. "Leslie, there's something I need to explain to you first, before we take this step." "What?" "It's nothing bad. It's just something complicated." He sighed and looked above her. "Leslie, what attracts me to you to is not your looks, although you're certainly very pretty. It's something I can see in your eyes, something I can sense inside you. When you've been teaching as long as I have, you begin to get a sense for your students, a sense of the sort of people they are, even when they may not know it themselves." He looked down. Leslie's face had gone ghost-white. "I know there's someone else inside you, behind this shy and timid exterior of yours. Someone who has a lot of secret desires and inclinations no one else knows about, because you've never been brave enough to express them. I think you're even a little afraid of these feelings, which is why you keep them locked up so tightly in your fantasies. You're afraid of letting them out, and at the same time you're afraid that you're never going to find someone you feel comfortable letting them with." He reached down and took her hands, which were cold and trembling, "Leslie, I think I can be that person. I think I want to. But you have to decide for yourself if you're ready to let the real Leslie out." "How do you know all this?" she gasped. "I can see it in your eyes. I can see it right now." And he could, of course. Just not with his eyes. Her jaw shook violently, and a tear ran down her left cheek. "I'm scared." "You don't need to be." "What do you want me to do?" "I want you to be yourself. I want you to be brave enough to let yourself go." "How?" "It's just a matter of giving yourself permission." "I don't know if I can." "Is that what you're really looking for? Someone who will give you that permission?" She nodded weakly. "Then I give it you." A smile spread across her face, and then she stood up, hugging him tightly. He rubbed her back, feeling the dampness of her tears against his neck. She cried for about a minute before relaxing her grip. She withdrew just far enough to kiss him vigorously. Then she started laughing giddily. "What should we do?" He reached up and stroked her cheek. "This is the other thing I need to explain to you." Some of the mirth left her eyes. "I know that a lot of your fantasies, a lot of your reticence about expressing all these things you feel, are tied up in the fact that a lot of them involve other women." Her face seemed to melt again. "How can you _know_ all of this?" He caressed her face gently. "It's not as hidden as you think. To someone who knows what to look for, it's there. I'm right, aren't I?" She nodded. "There's something you need to know about. There is another woman in my life, a girl much like you. I think it's someone you would like to meet." Her eyes swelled, and she pushed herself out of his arms. "_What?_" "Leslie, I'm sorry, but I have to tell you this now, before things go any further." She gasped for breath, still staring at him in shock. "She doesn't know about you yet. But she's a lot like you in a lot of ways. She's just a little older than you are. She's a college student in Pasadena, at least she was until very recently. She's had the same issues you have, about letting herself express the things she feels." Leslie had turned away from as he spoke, sinking back into her chair. "And she has a lot of the same fantasies you do. I think you two would get along very well." Leslie was still in her chair for a long time, breathing heavily. After a minute or so, she looked back up at Victor, her face still a mass of conflicting emotions. "What's her name?" "Meredith." "Is she pretty?" "She's very pretty. She's a little shorter and more athletic-looking than you are, but she's still very nice. She has red hair." She turned away from him again. "I have to think about this. This is so much at once." "I know. I'm sorry. But if you want to pursue this thing we have, you need to know." She nodded. She was quiet a moment. "Would she come with us?" "To Las Vegas? I don't know. I still have to tell her about you." "Do you think she'll be upset?" "Maybe at first. But I think she'll like you. I wouldn't have let any of this happen if I didn't." Leslie didn't say anything again for about ten or fifteen seconds. When she spoke up again, it was very soft. "I'd like that." "For her to come with us?" She nodded. "I'll talk to her." Leslie's eyes closed, and she bent forward, resting her elbows on her knees and hanging her head. Victor reached out and rubbed her back. After a few seconds, she stood up and returned to his arms, hugging him. "Thank you," she whispered. He patted her back. "You'd better get going. I need to get ready for class at one." She nodded, then pulled back to stare deeply into his eyes. "Can I call you Victor now?" "Of course." "I think I love you, Victor." She kissed him for a few seconds, then pushed herself out of his arms and left the office quickly. --- Victor was not sure how he got through his one o'clock class, with Leslie staring worshipfully up at him for the entire hour. None of the other students seemed to notice, even when Leslie appeared to struggle with saying something to him as she left the class afterward. Victor puttered around in his office until he finally admitted to himself that he was avoiding going home to Meredith. He left around two-thirty. When he came into the house from the garage, he heard the vacuum cleaner going. He walked into the living to see that Meredith had spent the entire day cleaning house. She was vacuuming the bedroom as he came in. The place had been dusted from top to bottom and the academic clutter around his desk had been neatly organized. He looked into the kitchen to discover it scrubbed shiny and clean. The vacuum cleaner shut off, and Meredith came bouncing out to hug him. She gave him a big kiss. She wore just shorts and a T-shirt, and he felt her braless breasts flattening against his chest. "Hi." "Looks like someone has been busy." "Uh-huh. I wanted to make myself useful. Do you mind?" "Nope. I think I could get used to this." She kissed him again. "Wanna fuck?" He laughed. "Give me a minute." "I'll give you an hour, as long as you spend it fucking me." Victor set his books down as she dragged him toward the bedroom. The sheets had been washed and the bed had been made, although she had also turned down the covers, no doubt planning to tear things up again as soon as Victor returned. "Can I jump in the shower real quick?" she asked. "I'm a mess." "Be my guest." She planted another smooch on his face. "Warm up the bed." Victor undressed and got into bed as Meredith turned on the shower. He listened to her cleaning up for a few minutes, rehearsing what he was going to say to her. The story he had concocted on the way home required a few memories to work with, which he put into her mind as she washed her hair. She emerged after about five minutes, toweling herself dry. He admired her firm, taut body for a moment, and she smiled at him. "Like what you see?" "Looks good enough to eat." "Want some?" "Come here." She climbed into bed with him, crawling up to straddle his legs. He cupped her warm, damp breasts in his hands. "To what to I owe all this energy?" "You owe it to figuring out how to make me come." He grinned. "You're sure it never happened before?" "Very sure. That first time, the afternoon we met, I was all, 'Whoa! What the hell was that?' When you did it the second time, it dawned on me what was going on." She giggled. "I was like, 'Now I get it!'" "I'm glad." "And I'm not letting you go until you do it another few thousand times." She settled down onto his body, writhing against him. They kissed and fondled each other for a few moments. She took his erection in her hand and stroked it slowly. "Babe?" he asked. "Hmm?" "I know we've never really discussed this, but the age difference isn't an issue?" She shook her head. "No. You see, I realized today what my problem was. I've been dating guys who were as clueless about everything as I am. I need somebody older, who knows what's going on and what's important. I need someone to take care of me. The only thing I would ever be worried about, dating someone your age, is whether we would be compatible in bed." She smiled and kissed him "And that's _definitely_ not a problem." She curled around and took him into her mouth. He lay still as she fellated him eagerly, bobbing up and down and caressing his balls. He stroked her legs gently, reaching out to tweak her nipples or tease the coppery little nest between her thighs, still damp from her shower. She giggled around his cock but didn't let go. After a few minutes, he pulled her off, and she threw a leg over his waist. She backed slowly down onto his erection. "Do you know," she gasped as he sank into her, "that you have the biggest dick . . . I have ever seen? And I've seen a few." "I though size didn't matter." She laughed through her arousal. "Length is overrated. Girth is what matters." "It doesn't hurt?" She sucked in a breath. "It does. But in a good way." She finished impaling herself, and ground her sex down against him. "A good way?" "Uh-huh. Because I know that after a few more weeks of this, you'll be stuck with me. My pussy will be ruined for anyone else." He laughed, and she laughed with him, settling down on his chest. She kissed him deeply as he embraced her and slowly began moving up and down on him. Victor let her ride him, which she did more and more eagerly as he tickled her brain, helping her along the path to climax. Her hands began clawing at his shoulders, and little beads of sweat began to appear on her hairline. She threw her head back, letting out a shriek, and came long and hard. She shook for five or ten seconds before collapsing on his chest. He caressed her firm buttocks for a few moments before she fell to the side, pulling him on top of her. She spread her legs under him as he moved slowly within her. He felt her trying to squeeze him internally and had a perverse idea. He looked down into her body, at the pubococcygeus muscle surrounding her vagina. She was flexing it around him, or trying to, but it wasn't particularly well-developed. Would doing something like this be too much? After everything else he had done to her? It was an improvement, wasn't it? Victor's control wavered in the heat of the moment. And then, as he had with his own muscles, he built up Meredith's. And he felt the difference immediately, the tighter, firmer pressure around his erection. Meredith didn't seem to notice. She just kept up what she was doing, smiling at him. "Do you like that?" "Uh-huh," Victor gasped. She did it again, harder. Victor's head swam. Meredith giggled, pulling him down to kiss him. Victor drove harder into her, stabbing into her mind as he stabbed into her body. She convulsed, arching her back and groaning. Her legs wrapped around his, and her nails dug into his back as a long shudder ran through her. "Oh, Goooooooooood! Fuck!" He held onto her orgasm, peaking it, holding here there until he finally reached it himself. As Meredith shook as if she were epileptic, he squirted off deeply inside her. Only then did he let her come down. Gradually she released her grip on his body and lay under him like a dead woman. He rolled off to catch his breath, listening to Meredith's ragged breathing beside him. --- "Do you remember that conversation we had last week, about your fantasies?" Meredith nodded, looking up from her spot on his chest. "About wanting to be with another woman?" he asked. She propped her elbow on his stomach and rested her head on her hand, then pulled her long red hair around behind her. "Mmm-hmm. What about it?" "There's someone I think you ought to meet." "Who?" "A girl in one of my classes. I've gotten friendly with her this semester." She smiled, though he could sense some concern in her. "That's not against the rules?" "Technically, it would be. But for you, it would be worth it." Her eyes dropped to his chest, then rose again. "What's she like?" "That's the thing. She's exactly what you described to me, about what you wanted." Her face paled a little. "Blonde, big boobs?" "Yes. Long blonde hair. And very pretty." He watched her breath accelerating. "Is that what you want?" she asked. "Only if it's what you want. But I thought that if we're still going to Las Vegas this weekend, we could invite her along." "How do you know she'd go for it?" "I'm pretty good at reading people. Plus it's kind of obvious she's developed a crush on me." The twinge of jealousy that grew in her mind was plain to see, and he watched the conflicting emotions spinning through her head. "If this really is a fantasy of yours," he said, "there's no reason not to explore it." "It is, but . . ." "Just wait until you meet her. Let's not make any decisions now." She nodded. "Okay. Like when?" "Come to work with me tomorrow." She lay back down on his chest and hugged him. "What do you want for dinner?" she asked a moment later. "Surprise me." She snuggled against him, giggling. "I'll do my best. Meanwhile," she said, reaching down for his still-erect penis, "we've got some time to kill." She slid under the covers and gobbled him up. It was enough to still the sensation of guilt in the back of Victor's mind. For now. --- --- Vector Copyright 2000 by MichaelD38@aol.com Free redistribution permitted; no commercial use without authorization Michael ~Story Archives~ www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MichaelD/www/ www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Richard_Bissell/www ~Other Archives~ www.storiesonline.net www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/BitBard/www/forray/michaeld/ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+