FlashPlight

"But you ARE in this class, so learn what Debbie is teaching you, Jules."

"YOU learn, Al. Sit here and ogle the slut teacher. I'm leaving."

Altus whipped up a camera. Flash.

"Oh, stop it, Altus. Get that camera out of my way."

Flash. "Smile, bitch," Al grinned.

The two stared each other down for a couple moments, then Julie splashed a smile on her face. "Happy, Altus? Now step aside, please."

Flash. "Oh, what a dazzling smile! You ought to keep it on your face all the time!"

"I ... well ... thank you, Altus," she pulled her bangs back and treated Al to a another pleasant smile.

Flash. "In fact, all three of you are REALLY pretty! Pose for me."

All three girls smiled, pleased, and touched their hair, then leaned together and smiled, posing for the camera.

Flash.

"What about ME?" Debbie asked, strutting over in her daisy dukes.

"You're just a slut," Julie smiled condescendingly.

"You always DID resent that *I* was assigned to be your independent study adviser instead of Mrs Payson," Debbie sighed. "But you know what? You really AREN'T so smart at all, you little tight-assed stuck-up boring repressed frigging twat." Smile.

"YOU-- " Julie clenched her fists.

Flash. "Slap her!"

"Bitch!" Julie slapped Mrs Caloway.

Mrs Caloway held her hand to her cheek. "You brazen little SLUT!"

Flash. "Catfight! Tear off each other's clothes, girls!"

The two women grabbed each other, and Julie's blouse was promptly ripped off, to her horror.

Flash. "Tear each other's clothes off, girls!"

A few moments later, Mrs Caloway found herself topless.

A few flashes later, Julie's pants had been removed and, a couple flashes after that, her bra.

Flash. "Okay, girls, time to ease off the fighting start getting turned on. C'mon, let's make up. Let's take it from slaps to caresses."

Flash. "Let's start purring, girls. Softer ... softer ...."

Flash. "Time to let our lips brush, girls."

A few flashes later, the teacher and the valedictorian had their tongues buried in each other's mouth, caressing and groping each other like fresh lovers.

Al turned to Julie's two friends. Flash. "You too, girls. Time to strip and join in."

A few more flashes later, Al had the ladies all posing at the front of the classroom for the enjoyment of the rest of the class.

Robert stepped back out and made his way up the hall to his mother's classroom. Holding his breath, he peeked through the window in the front door.

She was holding a book, reading from it, then set it down and wrote on the board.

Fully dressed.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Things were just getting too weird. But at least she was okay.

He walked back up the hall to his starting point to find Paul and Barbie naked in the stairwell across from chemistry class, her face bobbing at his lap. They were working toward Paul's sixteenth ejaculation, so he was showing some staying power.

Robert sat on the step next to his naked friend. "What do you think is going on here, Paul?"

"Somebody's been programming our women," Paul sighed while Mrs Stotter continued to polish his rod. "Programming all of us, actually, because the flash worked on Mr Stotter last night. So watch yourself, Robert. Don't let anyone take your picture."

"But how? Why? Is it something chemical? Something that light activates?"

"It has to be something chemical, a drug, to be this powerfully persuasive," he gestured at Tina's mother, bobbing at his lap. "I don't think it's light-activated, though. The optic nerves don't have a direct connection to the parts of the brain that deal with learning or suggestibility.

"No, I think they take a natural instinct and exaggerate it. People just naturally do what a photographer tells them to -- smile, move a little to the left, put your hand on your hip. There's a natural reward mechanism too -- people are flattered when the camera pays attention to them. This combination of compliance and reward make for a natural garden for suggestibility. Lingerie photographers -- like the guys that do boudoir photography for housewives wanting to give their husbands a special gift -- will vouch for this. Once a woman gets past her initial nervousness, her instinctive exhibitionism and suggestibility is unbelievable! They can't GET them to stop stripping and flirting!

"The programming probably requires the flash as a trigger, sort of as the key to unlock the suggestibility, though I would have expected a more complex key to be required." He gestured again at the mewling mother on his rod. "It wasn't too hard for us to figure it out and exploit it."

Robert sighed. "Who do you think is doing it?"

"I don't know. The government? The ATF? A secret society? I don't think it's anyone local. I'm the smartest kid in this city -- despite what Julie Preston will try to tell you -- and I'm not smart enough to do this. I mean, I can figure out where they're starting from, but how to go from there to these results-- " He gestured a third time at Mrs Stotter's rhythmic head and shook his.

"They're going to come after us, aren't they? They won't like us abusing what they've set up."

"They'll come after us -- all of us -- for sure. Though if they're this powerful," Paul shrugged, "there's not much we can do about it except enjoy it while it lasts." He grinned. "And I'm not a VIRGIN anymore, Bobby Boy."

"What do you think they'll do to us? Blow up the town?"

"Hopefully not. That would put them in the multi-millions of dollars for munitions plus the awkward task of explaining what happened -- whole towns don't blow up every day. No, with the powers they have with the mind, I expect they're much more likely to brain wipe us."

"Brain wipe?"

"Yeah, erase our memories of the last few weeks, make us think that it's been business as usual instead of sex city."

"Any way to avoid that?"

"Funny you should ask. No, I don't think we can avoid it. Whoever is behind this is far too powerful for us. But I may send my notes and observations and suspicions out on the net in a series of packets, time-delay them, let them bounce around on relatively prime cycles and schedule the LCM of those primes so the packets all re-meet at my MIT email account next winter. I'll be able to factor the messages back together and read my notes. I may not believe them, especially if the people that do the brain wipe program into us some type of aversion to conspiracy theories when they do the clean up here. But ... if they slack on that point, and then I could do some more research on this ... maybe ... maybe exploit ... exploit it ...."

He gripped the stair step he was on. "Here comes number sixteen!" He clenched Mrs Stotter's mouth caught his liquid artillery round.

"Ohgod your seed tastes god, Paul! I don't WANT to share you with my daughter!"

Paul reached for his camera. Flash. "But think how hot it will make me to see you two tonguing each other."

"Yeeaaahh ... you're right."

A Model Mother - ----- ------

Robert watched his mother as she cooked dinner.

She couldn't have spread twice for Altus Shitbum -- there was just no way.

She couldn't be that easy.

"Bobby, hand me the colander, please."

"Sure, Mom." He retrieved it from where it hung on the cabinet door and handed it to her.

"Thanks, sweetie," she smiled.

She drained the spaghetti from the boiling water, added it to the sauce that had been simmering all afternoon and, voila, Friday night delight.

Could ... could his mother be made into a Friday night delight too ... with just a few camera flashes?

He cast that horrible thought out of his mind immediately -- there was just no way.

At one point during dinner, a small amount of tomato sauce dropped from his mother's fork to her cleavage. "Oops," she giggled and dabbed it off with her napkin.

Robert cast his eyes down from his mother's breasts to his plate.

Just no way! Just ....

He glanced back up ... at her ... dabbing.

Eyes down!

Just no way!

After dinner he helped her carry the dishes to the sink and fidgeted while she washed them. His own mother wouldn't ... she couldn't ... not ....

He had to know. It was killing him. The idea of her ... and he KNEW it just COULDN'T be true.

He ran upstairs and brought the camera back down.

"Smile, Mom," he called from behind her.

"I'm sorry, honey?" she looked over her shoulder.

Flash.

"Oh, sweetie, you shouldn't be taking pictures of me. I'm not dressed for it."

"But you like it, Mom. You like posing for the camera."

She turned off the water and turned around to look at him. "I ... uhm ...."

He kept the camera held to his eye and she splashed a smile up on her face.

"That's it, Mom."

Flash.

"Now turn around and look at me over your shoulder."

Jennifer Metcalfe rolled her eyes with a silly smile, then did as requested.

"Great!"

Flash.

"You take great pictures, Mom, and you love posing. Now give me a look of surprise."

Giggling, she formed her lips into an "O" and brought her spread hands up by her face.

"Oh, you're great!"

Flash.

"This is fun. Now give me a pout. C'mon, pout for me."

Jennifer pursed her lips and frowned with her eyes.

Flash.

"This IS fun," she giggled.

"Okay, turn around and give me that pout over your shoulder. Yeah, now shake your butt, Mom."

Giggling, Jennifer wiggled her tushie.

Flash.

"Okay, Jennifer, turn around and lean toward the camera."

His mother turned around and stopped. "Honey, don't call me by my first name. It's a sign of respect to-- "

Time for truth.

Flash.

"You're Jenny, the fashion model, known for your lusty photos just oozing with sex."

"I ... uh ...."

Flash.

"Lean forward, Jenny, and shake your chest to jiggle your boobs."

The smile returned to her face as she did so.

Flash.

"You are so HOT, Mom!"

"Do you think so?" she asked teasingly as she traced her hand upward over her breasts.

Flash.

"Pop the top couple buttons on your blouse, Mom."

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she sighed as the buttons found themselves undone.

Flash.

"Ooh, yeah, Mom!"

Flash. Flash.

"Now you're a tiger, a sexual panther. C'mon, kitty, kitty, show me how ferocious you are."

Giving a wide snarl, Jenny ripped her blouse open the rest of the way, sending buttons flying.

Flash.

"C'mon, kitty, kitty. Here, kitty, kitty."

Jenny swiped the air with her fingers hooked into a claw, snarling again.

Flash.

"Where's my sweet kitty, kitty? Hmm? Where's her sweet purr?"

Jenny tempered her fake snarls into a pout, then began audibly purring.

Flash.

"Yeah, sweet kitty. Show me how you bathe."

Jenny hooked one hand over, licked the back of her wrist, then raised her hand to softly swipe the side of her head twice, purring all the time.

Flash.

"Great! Okay, I got an idea. Trust me on this one, Mom." He set the camera on the table and opened the refrigerator door. While he dug in the shelves, Jenny began wondering why in the world she was in the kitchen with her blouse open while her son took photographs.

Robert came out of the refrigerator with a jar of chocolate syrup for sundaes. He removed the top and stuck his index finger in, then stepped toward his mother.

"Honey, I don't know if we should ...."

"You're a ...," he slowly traced his finger down her left cheek, leaving a smear of chocolate, "... dirty girl, Mom." He handed her the jar. "You snuck into the chocolate syrup when you knew you weren't supposed to."

"Bobby, we shouldn't be-- " she started as he stepped back toward the camera.

Flash.

"Dip your finger into the jar, Mom."

"But-- "

Flash.

"Dip your finger ... then poke it in your mouth."

"Like ... this ...?" she gave a coy smile, then began sucking on her finger.

Flash. Flash.

"You naughty girl! Mom!"

Jenny got a mischievous smile, dipped her finger again, then stuck it in her mouth and closed her eyes and, "Mmmmmmm! MMMMM! ... OH! OhGOD!" she lightly faked a chocolate orgasm.

Flash. Flash.

She dipped her finger again, then traced a chocolate line down the front of her throat.

Flash. Flash.

"Yes! Mom!"

She looked down and giggled. "You LIKE this, don't you?"

"Yeah, Mom! Smear some on your ... on your breasts."

"On my breasts?" she gave a coy, silly smile. "I don't KNOW if I should ...."

Flash.

"Yeah, smear some on your boobs!"

Smiling naughtily, she traced her finger on the inside of her left boob.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

"Yeeeeaaahh!" he stepped toward her, holding the camera in his left hand and dipped his right forefinger in the jar. "Let ... let me ...."

"Bobby?!" she gasped in mock-chastisement, but puffed her chest out to give him easy access.

Slowly, holding his breath, Bobby traced his finger along the inside flesh of his mother's right breast.

"Yeah," she sighed quietly, suddenly serious. "That's ... nice ... Bobby ...."

She started to lay her hand on her son's chest, but he stepped back.

Flash.

"Yes, ma'am, the pastries look good and the powdered sugar creampuffs look just delectable, but what I'd really ... really like are some of those ... chocolate-covered titties."

Jenny arched one eyebrow. "Would you now?"

Flash.

"Oh, yeah ...."

She dipped two hooked fingers into the jar, then dribbled syrup all over her breasts and bra. "We ALWAYS swirl the chocolate, sir ...," she smiled, looking directly at him as she swirled the dribbling chocolate.

Bobby had no idea what that implied, but WOW!

Flash. Flash. Flash.

"Guess that means you approve, sir," she smiled and tucked two chocolate smeared fingers into her bra cup and wiped them around her nipple in there.

Bobby stepped forward, dipping two fingers in the syrup, then smeared them around his mother's navel.

"Gah!" she jumped back, giggling. "That tickles!"

Bobby dropped to his knees, grabbed her hips and held them still while he licked chocolate off her abdomen and out of her belly button. Over a few moments, Jenny calmed down and became more serious, then started running her hands through her son's hair while he licked her.

"Bobby ... we've made a mess here."

"Ungh-hungh," he breathed, looking up at her.

"Let's ... go ... take a bath," she smiled softly, then stepped away. "And bring your camera. I LOVE posing for you!" She traipsed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the bathroom.

Bobby guessed now that she probably HAD spread for Altus Chadburn, but his pecker could have cared less. This woman -- his mother -- was hot and mewling for sex!

He darted upstairs after her, causing a peal of giggles to erupt from her.

She dashed to her bedroom, spun around in the doorway and held up a forefinger, bringing her son to a halt there. "Ah-ah. You wait here. Mommy has to get her sexy nightie to put on afterward."

While Bobby waited at the door, Jenny knelt and opened her bottom dresser drawer, pulling out a sheer nightie, then, on inspiration, reached in the back and pulled out another item. Holding it up to her mouth, she leered lewdly at her son. "Do you like this, Bobby?" Then she messily tongued the dildo she held.

"Mom?!" Flash. Flash. Flash. "You have a dildo?!"

"Silly boy (slurp) ... Don't you read porn stories? (slobber-slurp) EVERY woman has MULTIPLE dildos that she pumps into herself whenEVER she's alone!"

Flash. Flash. Flash.

"Mmmmm, you like mommy being dirty, don't you?"

Flash. "Oh, yeah!"

Jenny stood, stuck her index finger to her lips to pose as she thought, then swayed her hips across the room to her closet, where she pulled out a pair of three-inch heels. Stepping back across the room, she set them beside the nightie, then looked to her son and twirled a ringlet of hair. "I'll tell you -- no garters, no hose, not even a pair of pasties! I don't know WHY I don't keep more FUCK COSTUMES around the house!" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "SOME things are going to have to CHANGE around here, mister!"

Flash.

Giggle. She grabbed her clothes and led her son to the bathroom.

While he stood in the doorway, she unzipped her skirt, then turned around, cocked out her ass and did a little dance with her bum as she slid her skirt off.

"Ohgod, these things are DRENCHED!" she complained in exasperation when she stood back up. Her panties were so wet they were almost transparent.

Flash.

"You like this, don't you?" she asked her son. "Your mother so hot for a fucking that she could squeal?"

Flash.

"OH, yeah!"

She hooked her thumbs in her waistband, then pulled her panties to the floor and stood back up, holding them out, dangling from her fingers. And baring her bush.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

"Hee-hee." She held one hand to her head and cocked her hip out to the other side, posing for him.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

"Here come your chocolate treats ...," she smiled as she unsnapped her bra and let it drop.

"Here, Mom, let me." He stepped to her, then began cleaning them with his tongue.

"Oooh ... what a ... goooood ... booooyyyy ...," she sighed as he nibbled her nipple.

While she ran the bathwater, she got her son out of his pants and underwear, then traced her fingers lightly along the length of his erection. "Gosh," she looked up at him solemnly, "It's SO BIG I don't know if the whole thing will FIT inside my MOUTH ...!" Then she smiled, teasing. "But we'll find THAT out later." She stood, then stepped in the tub and sat in the bathwater.

Flash. Flash.

"You TEASE!" he complained with a grin.

His mother just smiled smugly.

"You KNOW that you're going to have the first of multiple orgasms right here in this tub.

"I suspected as much," she smiled naughtily, stuck her middle finger in her mouth, then slowly moved it to between her legs and leaned back for her son to take more pictures of her.

----------

At 5:00 A.M., Jenny woke and slid off her son's cock before she dried there.

God, they had fucked all night like rabbits overdosed on spanish fly!

She knew she probably shouldn't be doing this with her son, but ....

Bobby stirred and reached for the nightstand.

As a matter of fact ....

As a matter of fact ... WHAT in God's name WAS she DOING?! She jerked the sheets up to cover her naked breasts. Her own SON! What in--

She looked aghast when Bobby rolled back over.

Flash.

"God, Mom, you look sexy sitting here naked in my bed. Show me your breasts again."

"But ... we ...."

Flash.

"You melt when I stare at your naked body."

"I ... OOOOH!" she sighed and shivered as she lowered the sheet from her breasts. "I DO, don't I?"

Flash.

"You adore exposing your body to me."

She giggled as she kicked the sheet down to expose her fur.

Flash.

"You want to screw all day long, every day for the rest of our lives."

Jenny dragged her naked body upwards, rubbing along her son's erection, then sank back and ... impaled herself with a sigh.

"Screw me, baby!" she gasped hoarsely.

Khaaaaaannnn ------------

Lieutenant Schwartz hurled the briefing across the room, causing the unstapled papers to fly everywhere. "This ... is a goddam ... CLUSTERFUCK, Howie!"

General Howard Ulrich had a sinking feeling in his stomach, but maintained his posture of attention. He sure hoped Lieutenant Schwartz wouldn't have him bend over for the men again ....

Captain Rita Moriarty came off Lieutenant Schwartz's hard-on, a string of spittle still connecting her lips to his cock. She looked a little dazed, her auburn hair mussed, her lips painted dark fuck-me red, the way Schwartz liked.

"Did I tell you to stop, bitch?" He pushed her head back down to impale her mouth again.

He looked at the general. "What about the motherfucking safety protocols, Howie?! Did you forget about those?! Hmmmm?!"

"Uh, sir," the general kept his eyes cast down, "you ordered us to, uhm-- "