tagErotic HorrorPhantom Ch. 04

Phantom Ch. 04

byJulie20©

IV Control

The spirit of the deceased Victorian Reformatory Overseer found that the longer he inhabited Trish's mind the easier it became to find his way around. Moving around a mind is not like being in a city as thoughts are not neat and separate like buildings. It is more like being in a forest and finding one's way between bundles of synapses and thoughts some of which are ragged and unwieldy while others are neat and self contained like low bushes. Doctors reckon that if all the nerves and capillaries in a human mind were stretched out they would cover many thousands of miles but, as The Overseer had no human body of his own, distance meant nothing to him and he could think himself instantly into any part of his new home.

He explored her memories and unearthed the way that she had felt when she had pleasured herself at night on a college night away and then realised that five other girls had overheard her involuntary moans of passion. Every sexual encounter, the satisfying and the humiliating, was laid bare to his questing. One night as Trish slept he found his way blocked by the psychological equivalent of a door. This was not a natural part of the mental landscape; he knew that Trish had deliberately placed the barrier here to shut something away but nothing could bar his way. He slid through the door and found a picture memory of Alycia who had been a fellow eighteen year old sixth form student. Trish was holding a memory of Alycia emerging from a shower with her thick black pubic triangle shining wet and rivulets of water running down her perfect young body with its flat stomach and pert, upturned breasts. The body was alabaster white and so slim that the skeleton was very visible in the ribs and the pronounced collar bones. There was no mistaking the tint of guilt and lust which surrounded this picture. So Trish harboured thoughts like that; he was sure that he could use this snippet at some point.

While his host slept he explored her motor centres and found that he could flex her fingers and move her limbs. If she had been awake she would definitely have fought against him controlling her in this way but he knew that if he practised enough he would be able to manipulate the body when Trish was awake. He saw to it that she always awoke in the morning to find her fingers pressed to her labia. If he could keep her mind awash with endorphins she would find it harder to organise her resistance to him.

It was important that he build up his skill in controlling her and also that he should be able to measure how successful she was in resisting his control. To this end he planned a series of experiments.

The first experiment occurred when Trish was in a bar socialising with a group from work. They were all seated around low tables in one corner of the very respectable establishment where conversation was muted and civilised. Trish was one of three women present and one of the others, called Sasha, was slim and dark haired so she bore a passing resemblance to Alycia. The Overseer drew memories of Alycia to the front of Trish's consciousness and combined them with fantasies involving Trish; he noticed that Trish kept looking discreetly at Sasha and her temperature and blood pressure were both slightly raised. It was only a small step to place Sasha into Trish's own erotic fantasies about Alycia and now Trish was increasingly uncomfortable. She was trying to push the unwanted thoughts from her mind but the more that one centres on something, even on suppressing it, the more powerful it becomes.

As the evening progressed The Overseer applied pressure to Trish's passion centres and twice her speech faltered as she sensed that she was losing control. He noted with satisfaction how she crossed her legs and pressed them together as if trying to squeeze out the pressure which was building up in her sensitive nerve endings. She was becoming moist now and he planted the fear in her that those around the table might pick up the pungent scent of hot girl. Trish was working really hard at regaining control but she was failing and then she excused herself from the group and quickly made for the powder room where she locked herself in a stall, pulled up her dress, stripped down her underwear and began to urgently attend to the tension between her legs.

Her hands worked with great vigour and she could not suppress small groans from the back of her throat. The Overseer rested and took in the picture of his victim perspiring, panting, red faced and exhausted as she came down from the storm of passion which he had created. Now he would wait for the opportunity to press the young woman further.

During this period Trish had been successful in defeating any suggestions that the old reformatory be demolished but there had been an interesting development. The government, concerned about rising crime, had set aside some funds for the building of new penal institutions and they had made enquiries of the Consortium about the old reformatory. Of course no-one in the twenty first century would want to build a reformatory but the government wanted to build "Secure Accommodation for Women with Challenging Behaviour". The original plan had been to convert the building into luxury flats but now Trish, under the direction of The Overseer, began to push for accepting the offer from the government. Converting the property to flats would be very profitable but also very expensive. Trish argued that simply converting the building to a modern equivalent of its original purpose would be cheaper and, as they were dealing with Civil Servants who are not noted for commercial acumen, leasing the completed building to the state would be more profitable than selling flats.

While this was going on The Overseer had the opportunity to further test his control over his host. One summer evening Trish went for a walk in the local park and The Overseer planted the instruction in her mind to go into the dark space between the cricket pavilion and the fence. He had taken the woman by surprise and she was half way down the side of the pavilion before she realised what was happening. She tried to turn back but The Overseer shouted into her mind an order to keep walking. By now she was so accustomed to obeying his orders in business meetings about the reformatory that she obeyed and found herself in a dark narrow space with a few beer cans on the earth floor amid tangled vegetation.

The Overseer used Trish's own fingers to drag her t shirt up over her head exposing her small white bra. Now she began to fight him but he grabbed a knot of pain receptors and Trish fell to the floor doubled up as a sharp pain took her between her legs. She was speaking aloud in a hoarse whisper.

"No don't do this, not here, let me go. Stop."

As she writhed on the ground he used her fingers to drag her bra free of her breasts so that it bunched up around her neck and he unzipped the back of her skirt and pulled it down. She was covered in dirt now and still writhing as she tried to recover her modesty but the skirt was free of her feet and he threw it a few feet from her. The young woman was terror stricken that she could at any moment be discovered by the people who were walking dogs or eating ice cream just a few metres away and her terror increased as she saw her hands go to the waistband of her black panties.

"Not my knickers. No. Please. Leave me alone."

But he had control and he was not going to give it up. Anyone watching would have seen Trish squirming in the dirt as she pulled off her briefs and threw them into the bushes then lay on her belly with her hands going to the bra clasp behind her back. The bra also went into the bushes and her hands went underneath her body to claw at her pussy.

He pulled out of her memory banks a selection of erotic fantasies which she had used in past masturbation sessions and he filled her mind with shame at what she was doing but he also pressed her pleasure centres so that her shame only added to the ecstasy. Her hard nipples were being painfully pressed into the earth, her legs were flailing around and her head was bouncing up and down as her hands rammed into her pussy and became slaked with her juices so that the dust on her hands turned to mud.

She could hear snatches of conversation from people out in the sunshine and she was overwhelmed with the fear of discovery but she could not break off from her lust fuelled assault on her own body. It was all she could do to keep her mouth tight shut so that the moans deep in her throat did not break out as orgasmic howls.

Eventually the dam broke and she rolled onto her back gasping for air and getting dirt into her sweat soaked hair. Her whole body shone with perspiration and was streaked with mud. Both shoes had come off and her white ankle socks were now grubby. She was laying with her legs apart and her bare breasts rising and falling as her body slowly returned to normal. Of course she was floating on endorphins and had that feeling of simply wanting to lie here forever.

Trish did not know how long she lay there before dragging herself to her feet and gathering her skirt and top. She could see her bra caught on some brambles but she did not feel inclined to go into the dense bushes to recover it. When she looked around she found that she could not see her panties. Obviously they had to be nearby but finding them would have taken too long. She pulled on her skirt and top and worked her feet into her shoes as she ran her hands through her hair trying to repair the worst of the damage.

She sniffed, took a deep breath and cautiously made her way back to the sunshine which was now fading as dusk fell. She was telling herself that now the best of the evening was past there would be a good chance of no-one being around to see a dirty and dishevelled young woman coming from behind the pavilion so she blushed scarlet when a child's voice cut through her senses.

"Daddy what was that lady doing in there?"

Trish looked straight ahead and fled from the park.

The Overseer was greatly encouraged by the success of this latest experiment and he began to prepare for the next phase. This involved continually putting Sasha at the forefront of Trish's mind and prompting the young woman to increase her contacts with Sasha. Sasha was aged nineteen and a secretary at The Consortium. She had a bubbly and fun-loving personality and her slim five foot tall body and long dark hair made her very attractive to men. However she had only recently moved to the area and was still finding her way around. This made her cautious about becoming involved with anyone so she would often accept an invitation to a night out but had avoided any deeper relationship until she had a better picture of whom she could trust.

One Friday evening Trish invited Sasha to have a meal with her at her flat as an opportunity to get to know each other better and have a girly chat about how Sasha was settling into her new home. There could not be any harm in that could there? The young girl was flattered that a rising star in The Consortium was being so welcoming so she accepted the invitation.

Sasha arrived at 7pm wearing a deep red summer dress which was quite short and covered by a thin black jacket. The Overseer was pleased to note the guilty thought in Trish's head that Sasha looked good enough to eat. The two women sat opposite each other at the dining table and Trish kept refilling the younger girl's wineglass so that she drank roughly twice what Trish drank. After the meal they both cleared the table, put the crockery into the dishwasher and sat down on the sofa for easy conversation aided by alcohol. The Overseer made sure that Trish noticed her guest's subtle perfume and fine curved legs. They talked so easily that it came as something of a shock to notice that the time was just past mid night. Sasha remarked that her head felt "a bit swimmy" and perhaps she should order a taxi instead of driving herself home.

Trish replied that Sash could stay the night and the tired young girl did not raise any serious objection. It was only when it had been agreed that Sash should stay that they went into the bedroom and Trish informed her that she had no spare room and no spare bed. Sasha did not have time to suggest sleeping on the couch as Trish was bustling around digging a nightshirt out of her drawer. It was lemon with large pink letters on the front announcing "To know me is to love me" and on Trish it would have been indecently short but on Sasha it reached to just above the knee. Trish left her guest to change and she went into the bathroom.

Sasha was really tired and she stripped off her clothes, pulled on the thin nightshirt and collapsed into bed. She was surprised when Trish came back into the room completely nude.

"I always sleep like this in the summer and it's all gals together isn't it."

Although Trish had not drunk as much as Sasha she had definitely taken enough to loosen some inhibitions and the lodger in her mind was subtly pushing her to experience her fantasies. Trish slipped into bed beside Sasha and their hips pressed against each other. Trish giggled that it was like being schoolgirls having a sleepover and she snuggled up so that her body moulded itself to Sasha's and her lips were less than an inch from the young girl's ear.

Although none of this had been expected Sasha was feeling very warm and comfortable in the bed and being close to Trish did feel "nice" so she raised no objection when she felt a bare arm gently fold around her shoulders pulling her even closer. Trish was breathing into Sasha's ear and perhaps it was an accident that her lips touched Sasha's earlobe. The hand around Sasha's shoulder slipped down to the top of her breast and Sasha tensed slightly but Trish was murmuring to her that she should relax.

Under the bedclothes Sasha felt Trish's other hand on her thigh from where it crept up under the nightshirt and the tip of a finger found soft, intimate flesh. This was the point at which Sasha uttered the clear word "No" but Trish was bigger and stronger and Sasha was still affected by the wine she had consumed. That questing finger was joined by another and a girl knows exactly how to stimulate a girl.

Trish did not have to use force; her ministrations caused Sasha's legs to part and the flood of endorphins weakened any resolve which Sasha might have had to resist. Soon the two bodies under the sheets were moving as one to the accompanying music of gasps and entreaties to do more. Lips, tongues and hands found sensitive zones and both girls orgasmed again and again with each climax exceeding the one before. In the course of this ecstasy the nightshirt ended up on the bedroom floor as skin moved against skin.

During a lull when Trish was lying back gathering her strength for a further foray into the heaven which was Sasha the younger girl awkwardly slipped sideways out of the bed and knelt naked on the carpet.

"This is not me. I don't do this. I have to go home."

Trish was too full of fun to have a serious conversation and she giggled that Sasha would look very silly running down the road naked. Sasha tried to find her way across the dark room to her clothes but Trish knew her way around this room and she leapt out of bed, grabbed the pile of clothing and ran from the room. Sasha followed her into the lounge where she had left her clutch bag and she grabbed the bag as she pleaded for her clothes. Trish ran, giggling, back to the bedroom where she threw herself on the bed expecting her playmate to join her but she heard Sasha run into the bathroom and slam the door.

The elder woman lay on the bed waiting for Sasha to come out of the bathroom but that did not happen. Was she so scared that she was going to spend the rest of the night locked in the bathroom? After a while Trish drifted into sleep and was awakened by a loud hammering on the door. She sat up.

"Open the door. It's the police."

Sasha, still in the bathroom, had her bag with her and in the bag was her mobile phone. After that it all became very confusing. Trish let the two policemen in and Sasha came from the bathroom wrapped in a towel. There were questions, explanations and accusations. Trish wore only a thin satin robe as they all sat in the lounge and she began to understand that she was facing charges of false imprisonment and sexual assault.

The horror struck woman was allowed to dress and she found herself in the back of a police car. Then it was a succession of rooms and procedures. Trish was photographed and finger printed and placed in a small bare tiled cell after having been humiliatingly strip searched. Then there were long embarrassing interviews in a featureless interview room with several officers working in pairs interspersed with long hours locked in her cell. Trish had only the clothes which she was wearing and only one set of underwear for her long days in police custody. At some point a woman inspector told her that having her in custody gave them the right to search her flat and on her computer they had found "certain images" which it was illegal for her to have. She tearfully protested that she knew nothing about any images but she could not tell them that for long periods of her recent life her body had been controlled by The Overseer who was quite capable of downloading items from the web and then erasing her memory of the event.

The following weeks are a blur of journeys locked in a police van, being on remand in HMP Holloway and standing trembling in court to hear the long charge sheet and her sentence.

Trish was to be sent to a new secure institution recently built in the shell of a Victorian reformatory and, as she sat in her cell, peering through the narrow slit windows she heard The Overseer gloating that he was back where he belonged and where he would have unlimited access to a new generation of incarcerated girlflesh to torment, humiliate and chastise.

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