Consuming Carol Author's note : This is an old story which has been kicking around on my computer for at least a couple of years. Thought I might as well post it, though I don't think it's quite as good as the stories I wrote later but I actually posted earlier. The taleas it stands is self contained although it could continue into the lands of a second and third part where I have a possible outline plot. Not sure that any further parts need to see the light of day though. Judge for yourself...
Prologue - Surveying the market Ricky had a pitch in the lobby of one of the busier stations on the London underground. To a casual observer he seemed like many of the other vagrants haunting the streets of the capital city; a rough looking tramp with greasy black hair, a coarse red weathered face and dirty fingers poking through a pair of old brown gloves. In one hand he held a thin silver flute. A battered ghetto blaster sat beside him and there was an upturned cap in front of him to collect coins from passing commuters. But Ricky was no ordinary busker. The notes of his music made strange echoes as they bounced round the old Victorian air vents and tunnels. The hiss of passing trains and the white noise from the station loud speakers all combined to produce a weird resonance which could produce some very peculiar effects in susceptible individuals. Ricky was a hunter and his job was to watch for those effects. Disguised by his very obviousness he stalked the crowds of commuters like a big cat surveying a herd of antelopes, just waiting for that one weak individual. One wet Monday morning in early September Ricky identified a promising prospect. She was a little brunette in her mid to late twenties wearing a smart white blouse, shiny black high heels, black tights or stockings and a knee length blue cotton skirt moulded firmly round a cute little rump. She was obviously an office worker of some sort - an accountant or a secretary perhaps but certainly a very tasty looking specimen. Her hair was an artful tangle of chestnut brown cut just above the nape of her neck and her skin was tinted with the faintest hint of a golden tan. Generous lips framed her mouth and a neat little snub nose gave her face something of the quality of a sexy little pixie. Delicious, Ricky thought. But best of all she was responding to the stimulus. He blew a few more speculative notes on the flute and watched as the young woman drifted with unthinking intent towards his corner of the station. Perhaps she was still a little bit tired this early in the morning - half asleep. That would help of course but even so the tramp could sense that she was naturally susceptible to the subliminal commands in his music and that was the most important thing. His hunting technique was far from perfect. Maybe only one in fifty of the commuters exposed to the secret aural assault ever responded. And of those so few were suitable. But this one would be perfect. The tramp felt a burgeoning excitement as the young woman came closer and closer. "Come to your Uncle Ricky my pretty little girlie", he muttered under his breath. "That's right, I need you just a little closer..." And she came toward him! The automatic ticket machines were ranked by the walls where Ricky was sitting and the young woman might have been one of the many people considering their purchase of a daily ticket. But Ricky knew better. This wench had been on the point of passing through to the escalators before he had caught her in his invisible web of suggestion. She was nearly close enough now. He could almost reach out and grab that lovely nylon clad calf... And then he did. All of a sudden the young woman screamed. Ricky had acted too soon. Carol felt the horrid grasp of the filthy old tramp and came to her senses, unaware of exactly how she had been sucked into his orbit - unaware even that there had been anything odd about her own behaviour. She kicked out, lashing at her assailant and staggering back into the station lobby. One shoe came off as she struggled and Ricky received a nasty blow to the head. "You'll pay for that bitch!", he cried but suddenly a new arrival had taken control of the situation. Even as Carol squealed for a second time a tall station Inspector strode quickly toward them. He grabbed the sinister busker by the scruff of the neck and yanked him away from his pretty victim. "What do you think you're doing mate!" Carol sobbed with relief, as the tramp was physically frog marched out of the station. She found her shoe again and slipped it on, shivering with delayed aftershock. It was noticeable how little attention the crowd of commuters had paid to the whole affair. No one else stopped to ask after her until the Inspector returned. "I've taken care of him now miss. I think you'd better be on your way." Part of her wanted to take things further. Perhaps she should call the police? But the Inspector seemed to know what he was doing and now she was late for work. Her new boss was a fearsome Japanese business man brought from half way round the globe to set the affairs of the bank in order. He already thought that English staff were lazy and inadequate and in truth Carol was a little afraid of him. No, it was better just to try to forget about the whole thing. She hurried off with a last grateful smile for the Inspector and had soon vanished in the teeming throng of the morning rush hour.
Part 1 - Raw materials are acquired Carol was starting to get a little anxious. She'd had four or five goes at persuading the automatic barrier to accept her season ticket and the machinery persistently spat the card out. Already a small crowd had gathered behind her, muttering impatiently. There were another half dozen available gangways but at this time in the morning it didn't take long to build up a jam of commuters whenever there was any sort of delay in the system. She was late already. Although she was sure she'd left the flat at her normal time for some reason several vital minutes seemed to have vanished in a daydream, leaving her a little befuddled. Mr Yamamoto would be furious! He had no sympathy for bad time keeping whatever the cause and he'd been very stern with her after that unpleasant incident with the tramp only a fortnight ago. She didn't want to make him angry again because she needed this job badly to cope with the expenses of her recent divorce and she had a nasty feeling that he would have no hesitation in firing her. "What seems to be the problem miss?" With some relief Carol recognised the same Inspector who had helped her before. However he didn't seem to recognise her and his expression was very stern as he studied her card. "I'm afraid this is out of date", he said. "Do you realise that it is a serious offence to attempt to travel with an out of date season ticket?" "But I'm sure it's alright! I mean I can't believe..." Her voce trailed off inadequately because the Inspector had confiscated the card. "It's your responsibility to ensure that your card is valid", he said. "I think you'd better come with me so that we can sort this out properly." And Carol found herself trailing behind the authoritative official feeling more like a naughty schoolgirl caught trying to steel a free ride than an adult employee who worked for a serious financial institution. It was, she supposed, part of the technique of humiliation, which the rail service liked to emphasise on all its posters targeting fare dodgers. But it was so unfair in her case. She was sure the ticket was valid! And now she really was going to be late and she'd be in very hot water! Behind a varnished wooden door there was a small office with a table, two chairs, an old fashioned telephone and a filing cabinet. A water cooler sat on top of the cabinet and an angle poise lamp at one end of the table but otherwise the room was bare and functional. The Inspector flicked a switch on the wall, which unbeknownst to Carol reactivated the ticket barrier. There was no need to hold up the other commuters now. He had his catch. "Sit down please miss", he said, observing with some satisfaction her confusion and embarrassment. "Not there. On this side of the table." The Inspector knew that it was important to keep his subjects off balance - any lack of confidence must be exploited and reinforced. The woman had to learn who was in charge here. The wench was a delicious specimen. Carol was wearing a pale pink blouse, just transparent enough to reveal the lines of a lacy white bra beneath. Her black open toed sandals had three-inch heels. Sheer black tights and a black nylon mini skirt with a slit at the front displayed a generous slice of pleasingly plump thigh. As she took her seat the young woman shifted her skirt nervously as through to hide her legs but her knees remained in full view The Inspector filled two plastic beakers of water and set one in front of Carol. She did not notice the small packet of white power that had been surreptitiously dissolved in her drink and sipped it nervously. 'Big mistake bitch!', the Inspector thought triumphantly. The drug he was administering to the sexy young woman would help to break her down. It was only one aspect of his technique and rather a crude one at that, but at this early stage it was very helpful. "We will need to go through your papers in detail. This could take a little while. Please try and concentrate. You're in enough trouble already so I shall want truthful answers." Carol glanced nervously at her watch again. "You're going to be late for work", the Inspector said in a matter of fact way. "I have to be in on time!", the young woman wailed. The Inspector shrugged as if to say, 'too bad'. "There is a solution", he said. "Why don't you phone your boss and call in sick? Then you won't have to worry and we can take all the time we need." A telephone was pushed in front of her and the Inspector waited. Carol hesitated, chewing her lip. As he watched his victim's expression with an apparent dispassionate impatience the Inspector knew that she was making an important decision. It was only a small step but if she went along with it she would have surrendered the first fraction of autonomy to him. And once the process had begun he would take a lot more... Carol picked up the phone and the Inspector felt his groin tighten as she did as he suggested. When the call was finished he flicked a second switch by the desk, which opened a speaker onto the platform. The rush of a train spread into the room as it left the station. "That's better, isn't it?" the Inspector said. "Now you can relax and concentrate on what I'm telling you." Carol blinked slowly. All of a sudden it seemed to take an enormous effort to focus on her surroundings. She was very tired. There was something soothing in the noise of the trains; a hypnotic rumble and a sigh of released air, which was almost like the yawn she wanted to take. "You know", the Inspector said thoughtfully as though he were reading her mood, "it can be strangely peaceful in these tunnels. Sometimes I find I just want to listen to the rumble of the trains on the track and forget all my worries. Clackerty, clack and around they go. So soothing... So restful. Do you feel restful now Carol? Calm and ready to answer my questions? Good." The Inspector watched the young woman carefully as she took another sip of water. Her pupils were significantly dilated. She really was an excellent subject - highly susceptible to hypnosis and with a delicious young body, which would command a good price at auction. Nevertheless, he reminded himself, there were still several hurdles to overcome before the money would be swelling his bank account the way the wench was already swelling a certain part of his anatomy. He'd got girls to this stage before on several occasions and still failed to complete the deal. It took more than a good body and a vulnerable mind to make a suitable subject - it took a bit of luck and the right combination of external circumstances to make the extraction from society proceed smoothly. And so now he needed more information. It was time for the questioning to begin. The Inspector took a sheaf of forms from a desk draw. "Let's begin", he said in a no nonsense businesslike manner. "Name please?" The early questions were superficially straightforward enough although an alert mind would have wondered about the slightly offbeat supplemental additions supplied by the Inspector. Carol's mind was far from alert; lightly dosed with the special tranquilliser in her water and under a subtle form of hypnotic control. She didn't object to giving details about her name and address and the recent history of her residency. On learning that the young woman was currently living alone after a recent divorce, the Inspector produced a large white sheet he called "Section B". Carol found nothing odd as she was asked for details about her landlord, how often she received visitors and whether the property would be unattended whilst she was away. After all, questions like this were not far out of line with the official requirements for an insurance policy. It was a nice simple routine - asking and answering. Carol found it increasingly easy to empty her mind out into the Inspector's growing notes, lulled by the calm rhythm of reply and response. "Section C" consisted of questions about her financial status which were necessary to ensure she could pay for a new season ticket. The Inspector insisted on full details about all Carol's bank and building society accounts. "Perhaps you had better pass me your hand bag?", he suggested. The young woman complied meekly, allowing him to remove her cash cards from the purse inside and to note down all the numbers of the accounts. She even supplied her secret pin numbers, which the Inspector was careful to write by the side. The Inspector observed that the purse also contained the woman's driving licence. Her car keys and house keys were in the hand bag along with the usual rubble of makeup, combs and loose change. "I'll take these through for processing now", he said at last. "We have to verify that there is enough money to pay for your season ticket. Please wait here." Carol felt a vague stir of uneasy apprehension as the Inspector put the cards back in her purse and walked out of the room with her handbag. Perhaps it was for the best though. The Inspector obviously knew what he was doing and everything would be taken care of. Another train was rumbling into the station. The Inspector was right. It was a very peaceful sound. Why worry? It was so much easier just to accept his word on everything. It was a good five minutes before the Inspector returned without the hand bag. "We need to finish the application process", he said. "Section D". Section D, began with a series of medical questions which though utterly irrelevant to the process of applying for a season ticket on the railway seemed innocuous enough to start with. Carol answered without thinking. Soon, however the questions became more intimate and personal. The Inspector was demanding details about her sexual preferences, habits and experiences. Carol began to hesitate, blushing slightly and letting her voice drop to a delicate whisper at times. The Inspector was patient and rode over any doubts with a constant murmur of soothing patter. "Just relax and tell me the answers", he said. "You feel so much less anxious when you tell me the truth. Don't try to hide anything." At last the endless form filling seemed to be complete. The Inspector sat back and looked at the thoroughly subdued young woman with speculative predatory intent. It was time to see if she was ready for the next phase. "There is now the matter of your punishment", he said. "P.. p.. punishment?" "For attempting to travel with an out of date season ticket." "But I didn't realise. I.. I never meant to. I mean..." "Ignorance is no excuse. Do you want the police involved? This is a serious matter, I'm afraid. If we bring in the police you will get a criminal record. Surely you've seen the posters about fare dodgers? In fact we may even use your photograph for the next series." "N.. No. Don't. Please!" Her distress was genuine. 'Perfect', the Inspector thought. "But you must be punished. It is important." The Inspector seemed to be thinking. "There might be a way out. Can you think of it? What happened when you were a naughty girl?" Carol's face was a delightful picture of confusion and apprehension. He allowed her to continue in this irresolute state for a few moments, knowing that there was a small risk the disturbance would break her out of the hypnosis. Nevertheless the risk was worth it because if this manoeuvre was carried out properly the effect would be to deepen his control. "You would be spanked wouldn't you?", he said simply at last, as though explaining an obvious point to a stupid child. Of course! Carol was relieved that she understood the answer the inspector wanted. It was so much easier to answer his questions. "Then if you do not wish the police to be involved you had better accept a spanking, hadn't you?" "Yes" It was quite clear. She had better accept a spanking. "Come here Carol!" There was a hint of menace in his voice now. "I want you bent over my lap. And hurry up. I haven't got all day!" Reluctantly the young woman stood up and walked round the desk as the Inspector pushed his chair back and made room for her. He fought to suppress a grin at the ease with which his victim had capitulated. It was a delicate moment and it had passed off perfectly! In only a few seconds more she was draped over his lap and ready to be chastised. The Inspector ran his hand along the length of Carol's leg, enjoying the feel of her flesh beneath the thin black nylon of her tights. There was no doubt about it - this one would make an excellent plaything for some wealthy owner. With his other hand the Inspector lifted her skirt and folded it down over her back so that for the first time her bottom came into view. He was delighted with what he saw. The young woman wore a pair of white cotton panties which had ridden up unto the valley between her buttocks. This left a pleasing expanse of nicely curved flesh scarcely screened from his eyes by her hosiery and effectively unprotected from the coming assault. She was trembling slightly, as well she might! The Inspector let his hand wander freely over the young woman's bottom, testing the texture of the flesh. He could feel her buttocks clench and relax in anticipation of the more painful contact to come. She was scared but she was committed now and he knew it. Crack! Nothing she had imagined could have prepared Carol for that first stroke. A no-nonsense blow delivered full across the top of her buttocks. The young brunette let out an involuntary squeal of pain but before she had finished a second slap had followed it up hard against the soft flesh in the middle of her bottom. "Silence girl! I'd have thought a sensible young woman could have kept a civil tongue in her head whilst she was taking her rightful punishment!" Carol subsided into a succession of soft sobs as the relentless punishment continued. The Inspector showed no mercy. The young woman's bottom was eminently spankable - a firm and beautifully rounded rump which was soon beginning to glow with warm pink pain under the sheer mesh of her tights. After a good twenty blows the Inspector's arm had begun to tire but he hadn't finished yet. Carol was allowed a few moments of quivering respite as an idea formed in the mind of her tormentor. He squeezed her left thigh and stroked her leg, reaching down to her foot and lifting it, then unbuckling one of her sandals. The cheap open toed black plastic footwear presented possibilities. He flexed it in his hand, testing the strength of the sole - it would do nicely. Carol, squawked again as without warning her punishment was resumed , and this time it was the flat of her own sandal that was being beaten against her bottom "Time to finish the inspection. Stand up. We just have Section E to complete." Carol was still snivelling but the Inspector was pleased to see that she did as she was bidden. By now the simple habit of obedience was beginning to take hold. Accepting the punishment had bound her more deeply into his web of control. And although there was always a risk that the pain would shock a subject out of their hypnotic state, once the lingering ache was suffusing a young woman's system it served only as a reminder of her need to acquiesce. "That's better isn't it", he said mildly. "Now listen to me. Listen carefully. We need some photographs to identify you. Official photographs for the forms. I want you to stand by the wall and do exactly as I say..." In the half hour which followed the Inspector took some very interesting photographs indeed. Routine shots were followed by 'evidence that the punishment was completed properly', which consisted of close ups of the young woman's bottom as she bent to touch her toes. From then on, it became an elaborate glamour shoot as the Inspector directed Carol to strip and took a series of increasingly intimate stills which would have made perfectly good copy for a Men's magazine. In fact, the Inspector planned to sell the photographs later. There was no reason why he shouldn't make a little extra money in this way and he found the experience extremely arousing. For her own part, Carol was completely unconscious of the impropriety of the situation. She simply did as she was told and found it was soothing not to think. "Excellent", the Inspector said at last. "I think these should do very nicely. There's only one problem now. You are a remarkably pretty young woman as I am sure you are well aware. I'm afraid that talking these photographs has aroused my rod and left it in need of a little relief. In view of the fact that it is your body which is the unfortunate cause of the stiffening and since I am doing my best to make sure you have been dealt with leniently, it would seem only fair that you should oblige me with a little oral service, don't you think?" At first Carol didn't really understand what the Inspector meant. But when he explained it again it did seem reasonable. It was her fault that he'd become aroused after all. She was having such a difficult day it made her want to cry. Nothing she seemed to do turned out right. She bit her lip and knelt between the Inspector's knees knowing that she would really have to try her best to please him. The fat cock was presented to her lips, rampant and swollen and she began to lick and kiss it carefully as he issued a series of detailed instructions. The Inspector was delighted with Carol's attentions. The delicate lapping of her timid little tongue was marvellously erotic. Someone would get a great deal of enjoyment from this young woman. The phone rang as his prick was bobbing against the back of her throat and the secretary's lips were running up and down his shaft. "The flat's clear", said the voice at the other end. It was Jason, the head of the small gang of "removal men" who the Inspector contracted to clear his victims' houses. Carol's keys had provided them with simple entry to a building which they knew would be unoccupied. It was the easiest form of burglary imaginable. And the way it had been done it would be made to look as though the young woman had moved away without notice. The Inspector chose that moment to reach orgasm, letting his hot seed flood down the throat of the naked brunette. "Swallow it all", he ordered her, "unless you want to feel the flat of my hand across your fat backside again!" Ricky was enjoying himself enormously. He'd been fortunate enough to capture one or two beauties in his time but he didn't think he'd ever had one as tasty as the naked secretary who now straddled his lap and worked herself urgently up and down on his triumphant pole, uttering little animal mewling noises of abandoned lust. Carol really was a top quality peace of totty. Leaning forward, the old tramp was able to bite the young woman's nipples and run his tongue over her sweet and plump little breasts. His hands were free to palm her bottom and by grasping her hips he could dictate the pace of her desperate rutting motion. She was a hot one all right! It had been a fine morning when he'd spotted this one in the lobby of the underground. But even so he still had a score to settle with the little bitch. Ricky remembered how his prey had kicked out at him when he first ran his hand up her leg. He still owed her one for that! Thinking about it, he pinched the flesh of Carol's left buttock, which was still red from the Inspector's spanking. The young woman gave a squeak of pain but she continued to squirm delightfully. Soon he would have her for training. Then he'd make sure that the wench learnt a proper degree of respect for him. He bent forward and let his tongue lick at her left breast. The nipple was engorged and she whimpered slightly when he began to softly chew at the aroused nubbin of flesh. At the same time he pulled his victim forward and downwards so that she was fully impaled on his rampant cock. What could be more exquisite than the pleasure that this sexy secretary was providing, her freshly punished bottom warm beneath his hands and her nubile young body wriggling so wantonly in his lap? "A good fuck is she?" the Inspector asked, enjoying the contrast between the fresh faced, pretty young woman and the frankly ugly and dirty old tramp she was servicing with such energy. "Not bad", Ricky said. "Not bad at all." "Lucky for you I was able to reel her in. If it had been down to you she'd have got away." "Yeah well she won't escape me again", the tramp promised, choosing that moment to bite at Carol's left nipple. "And she'll pay for the trouble she's caused - believe me!" "Just be sure you don't damage her", the Inspector warned his colleague. Then came the moment when Carol crossed the final threshold of abandonment. This was the moment that Ricky really prized - for all the conventional reasons of course - any man would take great satisfaction in pushing a woman like Carol over the edge - but also for some special ones associated with the process of her subjugation. He saw it building in her eyes just as it always did before the orgasm. The layers of hypnotism were peeling away. But too late. There was a brief wide eyed instant when Carol remembered who she was and where she was and had some intimation of how she had been tricked. Ricky loved that moment - an exquisite instant of fear and horror and the knowledge that her body was so totally at the mercy of the hateful ugly old tramp who had accosted her. He spurted in her and she was swept away by her own unstoppable climax. Before she could escape a sharp prick in the shoulder delivered a hypodermic full of tranquilliser from the Inspector and she slipped into unconsciousness. The last words she heard were "Right, lets get this one packed up and shipped out shall we?"
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