Incubus Pupa Ch. 07

"Sorry." I chuckled nervously. "I didn't mean it that way. To be honest -- and don't take this the wrong way -- but you don't look old enough to be my mom's boss. No offense." Hopefully, she'd take that as the flattery it was intended.

Ianthe crossed her arms under her breasts in mock outrage. "No? How about old enough to be your boss?" She said it playfully, without heat, but I felt my cock stir in my pants at the suggestion.

My mother made her appearance in the foyer then, dissipating the little bit of sexual tension I was feeling. "Ianthe, welcome!" she turned to me with a frown, "Adam, where are your manners?" my mother gave me a soft slap on the shoulder. "Offer to take our guest's jacket."

Not wanting to look like a child by protesting, I ignored the undeserved barb, simply rolling my eyes in Ianthe's direction to express my frustration. She gave me an understanding smile in reply, handing me her designer clutch purse so she could remove the diminutive blazer.

As the two women greeted one another, I took the opportunity to start laying the groundwork for my conquest of my mother's boss. My eyes painted feather-light strokes of power over her body. Over the delicate line of her collar bone, up her graceful neck, round each swell of her breast. These were not the uncoordinated attempts of my early transformation. My control had increased dramatically.

I returned to the present. "...really appreciate you opening your home to me. I feel like I've been going non-stop ever since the move."

Mom drew us into the living room and motioned for us to sit.

"Would you care for some wine, Ianthe?" she offered.

"That'd be lovely, thank you. I prefer red if you have it."

"Of course! I just picked up a nice Malbec at the market earlier that I think you'll enjoy. I'll go grab it."

"Perfect." My mother withdrew, leaving me sitting on the couch with the gorgeous Ianthe. She tucked the errant clump of hair behind an ear with her hand, regarding me.

"So, Adam, your mother has told me quite a bit about you. She thinks very highly of you."

"Well, I'm not sure that's saying much. Isn't it a law that parents have to brag about their kids to anyone who'll listen?"

She chuckled, her eyes twinkling. "You may be right. I wouldn't know."

I squashed an impulse to ask her why she never had kids, figuring it was just as likely to be something she didn't want to be brought up.

Ianthe crossed her legs, making the stretchy fabric of her dress plunge into the hip cleavage that materialized. She didn't fix her dress immediately, and it rode up to mid-thigh. I admired her legs for a pregnant moment -- just longer than was polite, noticing how delightfully toned and lean yet thick with muscle they were. My eye lingered over the sexy bulge of her calf muscle. It was hard to believe, but Ianthe was hotter sitting down than she was standing. Smooshed against the couch, her butt extended the curve of her hip, making it even more pronounced.

I got some mixed signals when she returned my leer with a flinty glance that evaporated as she adjusted her dress downward. This surprised me. I swore I had caught her eying me earlier, and she should have been more receptive to the trickle of power I was pushing to her. She might be my toughest capture yet, but my confidence was unshaken.

I struggled to make small talk. "So, mom tells me you're from Canada? What's that like?"

"Yes, my parents were natives of Ohio here in the States, but moved to a suburb of Vancouver for work, where they settled. Canada isn't so different from the US, honestly, but it's a heck of a lot cheaper to live here."

"Ahh, well that's always a welcome change, right?"

I was saved from grasping for more conversation topics by the ringing of her cellphone. She took it out of her purse and answered it.

"Yes?" Her tone was frosty.

A pause, then, "What do you mean? I specifically told him to check those figures three times. Does the idiot think-" she cut herself off. "Put him on the phone."

Woah, was this the same woman I was just chatting with?

After a moment, she must have gotten "him" on the phone. "Explain."

She stood up and started pacing from the living room into the hall, now fully in business mode. Her intensity was staggering. My mother came back with the wine and a cheese and veggie tray in the meantime. We both waited uncomfortably for Ianthe to finish.

All I heard for the next couple minutes was a lot of "uh-huh." and impatient "yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it." Finally, she cut him off, "Look, enough. I told you several times that you needed to verify the numbers with the subs before submitting the ROM to contracting." Her finger stabbed at the air with her words, as if she were delivering her ire to him in person.

She continued to berate. "You may remember sitting in my office, not two days ago, when I laid all of this out for you step-by-step. I explained it so clearly that a five-year-old could have handled the task, but I gave it to you because I thought you could use it to show you're ready for that promotion."

I shot an incredulous glance at my mother that said "seriously? Is this how she always is?" She gave me a "don't ask" shake of the head.

Ianthe wasn't done. "But now, I have to come in over the weekend, fix your mess, and pray that Geller will accept a retraction and rebid. Whatever you had planned for this weekend, cancel it. Meet me at the office tomorrow morning; 7am sharp. Oh, and you get to be the one that tells the team they'll be joining us over the weekend to fix this mess. Be sure to tell them why."

She hung up.

Uh, wow.

She sat back down with an embarrassed look on her face. "Ah, sorry about that, Linda. Guess I got in work mode there. It's so hard to find competent people you can depend on, like you. If only you had the bandwidth to manage his division too."

"John?"

Ianthe gave her a flat look. "Got it in one."

My mother clearly didn't know what else to say, but she went up a couple of pegs in my esteem that night. The fact that she dealt with a boss like this and managed to keep her sanity was impressive.

The mood mellowed as the three of us continued to chat over appetizers, eventually transitioning to the dinner table where the conversation continued. I was shocked to learn that Ianthe had earned her MBA from Dartmouth at the age of twenty-three, a full year early. Damned impressive for such a challenging and prestigious institution. I found women of that level of intellect alluring, even if it was an allure that was spiked with a heavy intimidation factor.

The meal was finishing up when Ianthe looked to me, asking, "So Adam, Linda told me that you're interested in a business career." Her eyes bored into me.

I nodded. "That's my plan, anyway."

"Well, the reason I ask is that we have a program set up at Forge Whiteman to develop young entrepreneurs. Your mom mentioned to me that you've been running some sort of small business doing yard maintenance.

"That's the kind of thing that impresses the selection committee, if you're interested in applying. I happen to be on the panel, so I might be able to give you a sense of where you stand. You seem a very mature young man; not many people have a knack for finding opportunities and exploiting them."

My face reddened at the notion of having to tell her about my "business", and I certainly wouldn't call the few thousand bucks I made each summer exploiting anything. When compared with what this woman did every day, I felt like a kid running a lemonade stand.

"I'm not sure what my mom told you, but it's not much of a business. I just picked up some used yard work equipment and pay a few neighborhood kids to provide some of the labor. Nothing fancy."

My mother chimed in, "No, no, Honey, that's a big accomplishment. Don't be bashful. You should be proud of yourself."

Ianthe's amusement at mom's parental pride peeked through in a tight smile, but she echoed my mother, "Your mom's right, Adam. Don't sell yourself short. It takes good instincts to set up and operate something like that, especially without any formal education or training. Most kids your age are still using an allowance from their parents."

"Kids," was it? That got my back up. Well, no matter. I was pretty sure I'd cracked the code on bad boss Ianthe. After tonight, she'd know exactly how much of a kid I really was. I'd finished dinner; now it was time to feed.

"Did you want to take a look? I rent some space in the garage from my parents to do all the maintenance on my equipment. I could give you a quick tour if you have a few minutes." I hooked a thumb over my shoulder toward the garage.

She looked to my mother, who helped me out, "Go ahead. It'll take me a while to clean up all these dishes."

"Alright then, lead the way." Ianthe got up to follow.

What she didn't realize was that I was priming her throughout most of the meal. Getting a sense of the woman deep inside her. Each chance I got while the ladies spoke, I worked. Reaching into my mental space and focusing on the representation of her (I had started thinking of them as "avatars"). The twisting forms of light and shape were mesmerizing. As I observed it, trying to discern patterns in the chaos, I started to understand. Like a codex was opened to me by my subconscious, not only allowing me to see how some features translated to inner desires, but how to manipulate the patterns to aid my own aims.

I reached out mental hands to alter the weave. Exuding a sense of trust into it. Soon, I noticed it responding to my touch. Seemingly random pieces of it started reordering themselves to bring it into a more harmonious alignment with the elements I'd manipulated.

Taking her to the garage, I gave her a dime tour of my equipment, keeping conversation light to build rapport. Through our conversation, I made casual contact with her a few times -- asking about the material of her dress, brushing a wisp of dust that had settled on her shoulder -- and was happy to note that she remained unguarded.

All evening, Ianthe hadn't responded to my power the way the others had. Her natural resistance was inexplicable, but I was both trepidatious and eager to have to do most of the work without cheating.

I talked of organization and the detail that went into my planning, and she responded positively. "Well, this is certainly impressive. I think you'd be a great candidate for our program. If you're interested, have your mom let me know and I can send you all the application documents."

"Do you mind sparing another minute or two? I wanted to get your take on my accounting system. I thought you could give me some tips."

She glanced at her phone to check the time.

"Well..."

Internally, I caressed the core of her avatar, infusing it yet again with warmth and trust. "Come on, it'll just take a sec." I pressed.

She shivered a little, nodding uncertainly. "Yeah. I suppose your mom is probably still clearing dinner. Let's take a look."

I had occupied the large loft space above the garage some years prior to shelter my comings and goings from my parent's prying eyes. It worked beautifully for this reason now.

As soon as I had her in my room, I quietly closed the door behind us. She moved toward my PC as if nothing was untoward.

"Ianthe."

She looked back to me, immediately discerning the difference in my tone. Her defenses went up.

"Yes?" she said uncertainly

"I saw how you were looking at me tonight." Closing the distance between us, I stood up straight and looked down into her eyes, emphasizing our height difference.

"Adam, whatever you think you saw, you're mistaken." She looked up at me, challenging me with her eyes. I'd seen the little girl inside her though. I sensed that my power had etched faint cracks in the shell enclosing her, but somehow, I needed to smash it open.

"Don't deny it, Ianthe. I saw you...watching me." I said, peering down past the bridge of my nose to the bulge in my crotch that defied concealment. Her eyes widened as she sucked in a quick breath.

"Adam, this is inappropriate." Her voice was hard and filled with anger. She tried to shore up the cracks as more appeared beneath my power.

"Now, you and I are going to go back downstairs, finish our evening, and forget all about this. Are we..." she cleared her throat, blushing as I stepped even closer into her personal space, radiating confidence. I caught her momentarily glancing down at the bulging pecs evident in my thin cotton polo shirt. More cracks.

"Are we clear?" She gulped, trying to steel herself into a presence of authority, fumbling with the mental mortar to shore up her defenses. Just a bit more...

I continued my assault on her with my power, bludgeoning her with waves of it, eschewing a nuanced approach for brute force to stoke her libido and emphasize my dominance. The signs were finally there: heavy breathing, flushed décolletage. But she was too intelligent to let her base desires rule her completely, I needed to reach her there too.

"How difficult it must be...being Ianthe." I mused, my voice calm control.

"A towering intellect with the body of a goddess." Her blush deepened, and she looked down for a moment. "Having drive, determination, and an indomitable work ethic, but forced to Kowtow to inferior men every day to play the game and rise through the ranks. Weathering the attention of lecherous dogs who sniff and paw at you, ejaculating cheap praise upon you in feeble attempts to gain your favor.

"I suspect you chased some trite notion of love and marriage for years, turning away specimen after perfect specimen of masculinity, always searching, but never finding one with the ability to keep pace with you. To match your brilliance. Finding none that knew the real you, or how to reach her, you eventually gave up."

Sensing that what I was saying was resonating with her and she was unlikely to bolt, I got even closer and gently placed my hand on the curve of her lower back above her butt. My touch was light but channeled possession. She quickly darted a look down at my arm, but returned to my eyes when I continued.

"You probably had to work three times as hard as all your male peers just to keep pace with idiots that relied on nepotism and shortcuts to advance. Taking on the face of a monster with your subordinates when they show the slightest ineptitude to ensure that pace."

"But it's a curse, all that power. It forces the real you -- not the Ianthe I saw on the phone in there, but the girl in here," I pointed to her heart, "to be something she's not.

"She doesn't want control, or power, or dominance. She has no need for them. She just wants to be told how to be a good girl so she can be accepted and loved. Always.

"But you've buried her under Ianthe, and now you can't be happy because she's not happy. But I can give her happiness. I can help her never doubt who she is, or that she's cherished and respected."

"Oh, come on. You think you can spend two hours psychoanalyzing me and all of a sudden you know me? You're just a boy." Her voice was shaky. Uncertain.

"Ianthe." I gave her a dubious look. What she was showing me was obviously a last-ditch effort to reassert herself, but her body language convinced me she'd already cracked. "I think we both know that I'm more than that..."

"I can give you..." I traced an index finger across her collar bone, curving downward over her left breast to the where a hard nipple tented the fabric. "...pleasure." She moaned as my fingertip left a trail of fiery ecstasy across her skin, looking at me in wonder.

"Make you feel cared for." My incubus was sharing the secrets of her life pattern, giving me astonishing insight into how to manipulate her. I held her avatar in my mind, infusing it heavily with the love of a provider. A protector. It drained my store of Vitae significantly, but it was worth it when she closed her eyes and silently basked in the sensation of her soul feeling complete.

"How are you doing...? What..." she continued to gasp from the pleasure. "What are you?"

"I am your master, and you are my precious child."

She looked up to me with eyes filled with acquiescence and...hope? I looked down at the swells of her heaving breasts. Her nipples looked ready to rocket through her dress. I started to detect the bouquet of her musk in the air as she reacted to my power.

"Y-yes." She whispered as if in a trance, licking her lips and staring at mine as I continued to work my power into her. I reached behind her and slowly pulled the pins from her hair, setting thick, lustrous waves of it tumbling about her shoulders.

"Good." I nodded, channeling the gentle patriarch.

"Now, kneel and swear yourself to me, and I will lift you out of this painful existence. Take all your troubles away."

She dropped to the floor slowly, first on one knee, then both, overwhelmed with emotion as she looked up at me. Awe, lust, and relief warred for purchase on her face.

"I-I swear."

"Good, now repeat after me." She bowed her head. "I accept Adam Connor as my rightful Master..."

"I accept Adam Connor as my rightful Master." Her voice wavered slightly, but her eyes burned with determination.

"As his slave, I give him my eternal bond of obedience, and will follow his will in all things..."

She parroted my phrasing, nodding.

"I will seek to please him with my every word and deed..."

Her response sounded surer.

"All that I am, and all that I have, I give to him..."

Ianthe responded.

"And I shall accept no other Master."

I heard her echo my final statement, bowing her head.

"And in return, Sweet Girl, I promise to bring you happiness as you've never felt it. To treasure you and ease your troubles. To make your desires manifest, and never neglect you."

It almost felt like we were exchanging marriage vows, I mused. This stuff was heavy, but I vowed to let our words mean something.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks now as though she had just found God at a church revival. "Thank you, Master, thank you!!" she reached up to take my hand in hers, kissing it fervently. "How may I please you? I want to be a good girl, Sir. Please tell your good girl what to do to make you happy. Let me show you how good I can be for you."

I smiled, gazing down upon her patronizingly. Lifting her chin with a finger, I pulled her gaze to mine. The air was thick with her pheromones, verifying what her desperate emerald eyes told me.

"You are my good girl, Slave, and I'm glad we understand one another now." She beamed, and I could see from her life pattern that my words had brought her genuine happiness. I got a thrill that this was working so well while I stroked her hair gently.

"My sweet Pet," I cooed, "so good... I promise to show you many ways in which you can serve me. But first, I must teach you what happens when you are not a good girl."

Her limpid green eyes teared up. "But...why, Sir? Have I upset you somehow? I only want to make you happy. What can I do to please you?"

"Shhh, enough now, I know." I nodded. "And you will, Slave. I know you will. But you talked back to your master earlier, and I cannot tolerate disrespect, can I?" she shook her head slowly.

"Little girls that misbehave need to be punished. Don't they?"

She nodded.

"Yes, they do."

I didn't get off on hitting women, so I chose something I found more fitting: punishment through desire.

"Oh, but please Master, forgive your pet. I didn't-"

Mentally, I summoned my reserves of life essence, drawing deeply, putting all I could hold into a single lash of lust, flaying her with it.