tagMind ControlLove Potion #9

Love Potion #9

byBOSTONFICTIONWRITER©

Brandon was a weird kid, the type of kid who had no friends preferring, instead, to be alone. From the beginning, the pediatrician told his parents that his intelligence was off the charts. He knew how to read and write before he was 3-years-old. There was nothing the teachers could teach him in grade school, so they continually double promoted him until he started high school at 11-years-old and finished college just before his 17th birthday. He had plans on getting his advanced degrees in Physics from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology but things did not work out as planned for Brandon.

Now, ten years out of college, Brandon was an inventor; he enjoyed inventing things, perverse things, and things that would have been deemed science fiction only a few years ago but now, with micro computer technology, they were now reality. He had lots of ideas, perverse ideas, and ideas that were once just a twisted dream or a perverted thought were now his invention.

His entire apartment was a science fiction work-in-progress and a technology lovers' dream house come true. Only Mr. Super Geek himself, Bill Gates of Microsoft fame would have more technological gadgetry in his home than did Brandon. Only, Brandon was a pervert and MIT did not want to enable a scientist in his quest for knowledge to use in the invention of sexual perverse aids and deviant behavior. In his first year of his Master's Degree in Physics, he was expelled from MIT when he blew up the science lab while developing his Love Potion #9.

Yet, that was okay with Brandon because there was nothing that MIT could teach him that he could not teach himself by reading it in a book. Much like John Travolta in the movie Phenomenon, Brandon read 3 books a day, every day. Unfortunately, he read not for the betterment of the world but for the betterment of the average perverted male. Matter of fact, it is because of people like Brandon that we have web sites like this. Way to go Brandon. All of Brandon's ideas and inventions were things that helped in his quest to see the naked female form.

Once done with MIT, he spent his days and the little money that he made flipping burgers at McDonalds, the only employer who would hire him, financing the planning, development, and testing of his inventions. Actually, it did not warrant much money to invent many of his items. Brandon was a physicist, self taught, and a physicist can make anything from nothing. Think of Brandon as a super McGuiver.

He invented shoes that had metallic flakes imbedded in the leather of the uppers so that, when he illuminated them with simple triple A batteries stored in the heels by a remote control he kept in his pocket, the illuminated metallic flakes in the leather shined like stainless steel creating a mirror like reflection. Once his feet were positioned up an unsuspecting woman's skirt, he could take a photograph.

Yes, it is true; let's credit Brandon with another invention, the first up skirt. Of course, there have been up skirts since, well, there have been skirts and women to wear them, but Brandon, using the tops of his shoes, invented the perfect a way to serendipitously capture the image on film to be downloaded to a computer's hard drive in the privacy of his home. When other men were working full-time jobs to support their families, Brandon was practicing how to excel at becoming a master pervert.

As a young adult, he invented a miniature periscope that not only looked around corners but recorded the images to his computer's hard drive, another first. Sure, the Navy has had that technology in their submarines but, Brandon made it portable. Already, he was amassing a stash of naked female photos with his mother, sister, aunts, and cousins becoming his first unknowing and involuntary victims.

Every night, standing around the corner from his mother's room, her door opened just a crack, just enough for him to insert his pencil thin periscope, he recorded his mother getting ready for bed and removing her clothes. Every night, it was the same thing, she'd pull her top over her head exposing her D cup brassiere, pull down her stretch panties exposing her white cotton panties, and then she'd reach around herself and unhook her bra allowing her big, saggy tits to fall free. Just before she donned her nightgown, she would roll her panties down exposing her black haired bushy pussy and ass to the imbedded camera lens of his periscope.

He quickly tired or recording his mother, already he had photos of her in all manners of undress. He moved on to recording his older sister. Three years older than him, she had more the body type that interested him. Her full breasts stood high and were B cup with pink, puffy nipples and her bush was dark brown and trimmed. He filmed her a lot even filming her when she thought no one was home inviting her boyfriend over for a day of wild sex. He filmed her from the outside through her window that was open just a crack for air. He had vivid color video of her giving her boyfriend a blow job and her boyfriend giving her a cum bath. He stopped filming her, too, when he grew bored with her naked form moving on to his aunts and cousins. No female was safe from Brandon's extended eyes in the form of various camera lenses.

Every summer his aunt and his two female cousins came for their yearly visit. This year, he was ready. This year, he would capture them naked, and he did. When they thought everyone was outside by the pool, Brandon put his periscope up by the window that he had opened only a crack, just enough for him to squeeze his miniature periscope through but enough for him to record his aunt and cousins stripping out of their clothes and putting on their bathing suits. By the end of their visit, he had more than enough naked images of them to jerk off over for months.

He had always fantasized about his aunt's and cousins' naked bodies and now he had them filed away in his computer available to pull up whenever his sexual desire made him lust to see them naked, again. His aunt, his mother's sister, was younger and thinner than his mother. She had really nice C cup tits that did not sag as much as his mother's tits and her bush was trimmed and not bushy. Both his cousins had A cup tits and had shaved pussies. He was thrilled to capture them on film. They were hot.

Around the same time, he invented Nude Vision, eyeglasses that could actually see through clothing. The downside was that he could only wear them for short periods of time because the brilliance of the green glow of his tweaked and upgraded night vision light that made clothes so transparent was damaging to his eyes causing him to have eye strain. So, he developed a camera lens and photographed women that way.

He spent his summer roaming beaches capturing women on film and, once downloaded to his computer, conveniently exposed their naked bodies for his personal enjoyment and titillation later that evening in the privacy of his home. At this rate, he feared that he would cum himself out, he jerked off so much over the tits, asses, and pussies of his mother, sister, aunt, cousins, friends, and strangers. No female was safe from the prying eye of Brandon's camera.

He even filmed those mothers who stood in line waiting to give their kids an audience with Santa Claus. One after another, the women appeared like they were standing there with their clothes cut out in the middle. Their nude images were surreal. They were all so unaware of Brandon's prying technological eyes. They were all so unaware of his perverted lust and desire of their naked form later that evening when home alone jerking off.

His Nude Vision lenses were far superior to what the military used in combat. You could count the pubic hairs with Brandon's Nude Vision lenses. With a special white light that eradicated the green haze that highlighted the photo, his camera captured women walking around as if they were naked in broad daylight. Clearly, the photos captured women's nipples, tits, pubic hair, and ass cracks. You could tell that they still wore clothes only; the clothes were noticeable positioned off to the sides of their bodies with the imagery illuminating the specific areas of Brandon's interest, only.

He was a genius and his inventions were a marvel to behold. No clothe female was safe and able to hide from his revealing camera. Now, Brandon's database of naked females grew from immediate family members and close relatives to friends and strangers.

Every year, it seemed, Brandon invented something else, something new, something more perverted in his quest to view any woman he came in contact with naked. Brandon invented a special light bulb that reflected the metal flaked floor tiles that he invented. When he turned on his special overhead light that he invented and that housed his special light bulb, the metallic flakes in the flooring acted much like a mirrored surface giving him an unobstructed view up their skirts and dresses. The extent of his perversions and perverse behavior was outrageous.

It took a while for women to notice that Brandon was viewing their panty clad pussies. If they only knew that his floor tiles were rigged with micro-cameras that recorded what they saw enabling Brandon to play it back later so as to masturbate at his leisure, they would vomit at the thought of Brandon's sick behavior. If the women became suspicious and if Brandon did not want the women to know that their panties were exposed to him, he did not illuminate the tiles. He only had the camera lenses record their panty clad pussies.

He discovered that Ms. Flagg, the Administrative Assistant to the President of the University, and Ms. Scribner, the school librarian did not wear panties. Ms. Flagg had a shaved beaver while Ms. Scribner's pussy was bushy. He so wanted to send them anonymous photos. Yet, he feared that if he did that, then they would know that the photos came from him.

When he started dating, in his early 20's, he invented special cologne that drove women wide. He named it after himself, calling it Branded. He used a hormonal base mixture in his formula that made him irresistible to some women and researched scents that aroused other women to make his cologne intoxicating to their senses giving him the edge in romancing women far more beautiful than he could ever imagine getting without the help of his cologne.

"Oh, Brandon, what is that scent you are wearing? I just love it. I see you even put in on your cock. Hmm, it tastes as good as it smells."

Not every woman fell for his cologne, but he did have some successes with it, considering that he was a tall, gawky, and pimple faced nerd who had no chance of getting any woman never mind a beautiful woman. Still, all it took sometimes was a darkened club, a few drinks, his magic cologne, and viola, Brandon was Mr. Lucky.

He invented his exhaling umbrella. It was an ordinary umbrella but when strategically placed, as if he was getting ready to open it, the very tip of the umbrella emitted a violent puff of air that was strong enough to lift a woman's skirt, so long as she was wearing a lightweight, flared skirt. His umbrella never failed. Also, he rigged it so that the air coincided with the opening of a tiny camera lens that photographed the skirt being lifted and her panties revealed. He had hundreds of perfect shots of panty clad asses and a few photos of women who only wore sheer pantyhose or no panties.

Along with his umbrella he invented his bee in a bonnet, a hat that housed a big, dead bee. When he was close enough to a woman with a low cut, loose blouse, which he managed to always be, he would press a remote control that he kept in his pocket. The remote removed an insignia on his baseball cap that housed a big, dead bee releasing it. These women actually believed that a bee flew down their top. The perfect scenarios were women who did not wear bras or better, bras that opened up when they leaned forward. Brandon was quite a good marksman with his bee in a bonnet baseball cap able to score a bulls-eye, down her blouse and in her bra, on nearly half of his attempts. On more than one occasion women removed their tops and a couple took off their bras to rid themselves of the bee. Oh, yeah, that bee in a bonnet was a miracle invention. Now, he only had to figure out how to serendipitously videotape the action.

"Oh, my God! A bee! A bee just flew down my top." The woman opened her top wide looking in while Brandon is staring down her top leering at her bra covered tits. She looks up at him. "It's in my bra!" She opens her bra to see the bee and begins to reaching her hand down but pulls away at the last instant. "I'm so allergic to bees and if it bites me, I don't have my EpiPen with me." She looks to Brandon. "Please, can reach your hand in and pull out the bee."

"Of course," he smiles.

She opens her top wide and pulls her bra forward. Her tits are nearly totally exposed. He reaches his hand down her top and into her bra feeling her tits and touching her nipples.

"Sorry," he pulls out his hand and looks at the woman so sincerely apologetically, "but I cannot get the bee without sexually assaulting you," he says to the woman. "Maybe, if you removed your top and bra, the bee will fall out. I'll turn my back and avert my eyes."

She does and screams when the bee falls to the ground. He turns around just as she is topless ogling her tits, as he steps on the bee, before she can realize that the bee was already dead. His invention, bee in a bonnet, is foolproof with Brandon so eager to accommodate a helpless woman in her moment of need. Yep, Brandon was a pervert, alright, but a creative genius of a pervert.

He invented invisible super glue, glue that stayed wet but was totally invisible. He would coat a picnic bench, a park bench, or chair with this super sticky substance hoping that a woman would sit on it. It worked really well when a woman was wearing a short flared skirt and instead of sitting on her skirt, she sat on her panties. When the woman raised herself to leave, it would pull away, sometimes, rip away, whatever clothing was stuck to the glue, skirt, pants, panties or bikini bottom. He would photograph the perverted fun from a safe distance. Panties and bikini bottoms worked the best. The glue pulled them right down and sometimes completely off, depending how fast the woman stood up to leave.

He invented molecular acid. It was acid that only interacted with nylon, acrylic, polyester, any man-made fabric without burning the skin. He would walk behind his victim with a little spray bottle, spray a little molecular acid on her skirt, pants, and/or panties and the material would suddenly, instantly develop a seriously large hole. Once, he pretended that he tripped and dumped an entire cupful of his molecular acid on a woman's chest. The acid not only ate her blouse but also her bra. It took her a moment for it to register that her tits were totally exposed. She rubbed at the wet spot on her blouse not realizing that the more she rubbed the quicker it ate her clothing. Soon, she was standing there topless from the front with her tits totally exposed to everyone. Ah, Brandon, indeed, you are my hero.

His best invention, he thought, was his love potion that he called Love Potion # 9, after the movie of the same name that came out with Sandra Bullock in the starring role playing Diane Farrow and her then boyfriend, in real life before she married Jesse James, Tate Donovan, playing Paul Mathews. With a combination of alcohol, the illegal drug Rohypnol, Viagra for women, and loads of caffeine, the secret was in the mixture of the ingredients, something that it took him years to perfect and one demolished college laboratory. Instead of pouring it in an alcoholic drink and having to carry out his unconscious victim telling everyone that she was just drunk; he used a time release capsule that slowly released the drug into an unsuspecting woman's blood system. It was all in the timing of it because his special formula did not knock them out, instead, it made them terribly horny and wide awake. The only problem was how to get the woman to take the capsule. He circumvented that by making special chocolate cookies with white chocolate chips. Each cookie contained the contents of a small capsule of the drug.

Also, instead of picking up women in a bar, his victims were women who he had lusted over and who he had wanted to be intimate with. He would just invite them to his apartment on the pretense of showing them something or giving them something.

"I know you are a big fan of ice skating, Christine, and what a fan you are of Sonja Henie. I wanted to show you my autographed photo of Sonja Henie." He researched what the women were into before inviting them over making sure that he possessed something of great interest to them. In this case, he downloaded a photo of Sonja Henie and forged her signature.

"I can't believe I accepted your offer to come home with you Brandon, but if you don't mind, I'm going to leave my coat on because I can only stay for a few minutes."

"Hold on, just let me get the photo." He emerged from his bedroom carrying the framed photo, purposely put in an old frame. "My grandmother was a friend of Sonja's and that is how she came by this photo of her." He blew off the dust that he had caked on it from his vacuum cleaner that morning. "It's been hidden away in my grandmother's trunk for years. When I found it, I immediately, thought of you.

"Wow," she accepted the photo from Brandon, staring at it. "I've never seen this particular photo of her."

"Actually, I know how much this means to you and I would love for you to have it."

"Well, thank you, Brandon, I don't know what to say. I must apologize to you because I listened to everyone else telling me that you are a bit creepy, perverted, actually, especially after you opened your umbrella in the elevator accidentally lifting Mr. Morris's secretary's skirt and exposing her panties to everyone. By the way, what is that scent that you are wearing? I love it.

"Oh, something that I got as a gift, I don't even know the name of it. By the way, I made some white chocolate chip cookies, would you stay for cookies and tea or cookies and coffee."

"Sure," she smiled at him, peered back down at her photo of Sonja Henie, and said, "I'd prefer tea over coffee with lemon."

Brandon left the plate of cookies on the coffee table and disappeared in the kitchen to make tea.

"These cookies are incredible. They are delicious. You must give me your recipe," she said eating one cookie after another.

When he returned, finally, from the kitchen, Christine, not only had her coat off, but her blouse was half-way unbuttoned and her skirt was hiked up.

He set the tea down on the table and she pulled him by the arm to sit next to her on the couch.

"Now, there is something that I want to show you."

She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled the cup of her bra forward. There on her breast was a tattoo of ice skates.

"Is that a tattoo," said Brandon reaching his fingers to her tit and feeling the tattoo with his fingertips.

"Yes," she pulled his hand forward until his fingers touched her nipple. They kissed, they made out, and they felt one another's bodies while French kissing.

Because of Brandon's Love Potion #9 in conjunction with his fragrant cologne, Branded, Christine gave Brandon no resistance when he stripped her naked. Unlike the rape drug Ruffie, where the drug makes the woman unconscious, Christine was a willing albeit, unknown to her, a drugged participate.

Christine, a very pretty and petite blonde, fell between Brandon's knees, pulled off his pants and underwear and took his erect cock in hand.

"You have a big cock Brandon. Would you like me to suck it?"

"Yes, Christine, I would love for you to suck my cock."

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byBOSTONFICTIONWRITER© 3 comments/ 60378 views/ 2 favorites

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