Knowledge is Power Ch. 2

I was home for two weeks recovering from the accident that killed Andy. I could have returned to work right away, but the company insisted I take the time off. The second day at home, bored stiff and fearing how behind I'd be in two weeks, I opened my laptop, turned it on, and immediately realized it wasn't my computer I had brought home, but Andy's.

"Oh, well," I thought. "I'll just log in to the company network from Andy's computer." I had opened it and started to dial in when I saw an unfamiliar icon on the computer desktop. The icon was a strange symbol, kind of like a yin/yang symbol, but in three parts instead of two. Intrigued, I double clicked the icon and the program opened.

The top of the window said, "KnowledgeFuck, by Andy Domson." Unfortunately though, a password window opened too. Very curious now, I tried several passwords, but nothing worked. I tried Andy's phone number, his address, his employee number, any number I could think of that Andy might have used. I was about to give up when I remembered that I had ftp'd some files a few weeks ago from Andy's personal site. I'd had to use a password to log in; perhaps I'd saved it. Knowing that people often use the same password for different applications, I figured there was a good chance it might work. Frantic by now, I dug around my computer desk, sifting through the accumulated paper. Finally I found it, an eight-digit combination of letters and numbers. I was just about to try the number when my girlfriend walked in.

"Hi sweetie," she said brightly, bending over to apply one of her all-American pecks.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"You don't sound glad to see me," she pouted. She sat down abruptly on the bed, bouncing me a little.

"No, I am, really," I lied. What I really wanted was to explore Andy's database. I felt sure it would reveal something about his amazing power over women. The power he used to have, that is.

"Well, you don't act like you're glad."

Actually, I was becoming glad she was here, or more accurately, my dick was becoming glad. It was beginning to push against my robe. Something about my plain vanilla girlfriend was turning me on, a rather unusual occurrence as of late. Then it came to me. The way she flounced down on the bed reminded me of the way the redhead in the elevator had dropped to her knees when Andy ordered her to give me head. Something about that night had infected me like a virus.

"How's this for interested," I said, and pulled her to me. I kissed her hard and passionately. She responded for a moment, then pulled away.

"I don't have time for this," she said. "I have to go back to work. I just stopped by for a minute."

Ignoring her, I pulled her to me again, kissing her hard. I had my hand on the back of her head, pressing her mouth against mine. My other hand began to feel her breasts. Usually I worked slowly into more sexual touching; I didn't just start groping her. Now I was definitely groping, squeezing and kneading her breasts roughly as my tongue violated her mouth. She pulled away again.

"I mean it, Dave. I don't have time. Look, you're wrinkling my blouse. What's gotten in to you? You're acting like some kind of caveman or something."

I responded by grabbing her blonde hair and pulling her down on the bed on her back. I began undoing her belt buckle and unbuttoning her slacks. She kept trying to push my hand away. "Quit fooling around, I mean it," she ordered.

"Believe me, I'm not fooling around," I said. I got her pants loose and pushed my hand down between her legs. I slipped my fingers between the folds of her pussy. She was a starting to get a little wet. I slipped a finger into her.

"I said no, damn it," she said and grabbed my wrist with both hands. "I'm not going to sleep with you right now, I have to get back to work."

I know I should have stopped, but the feeling I'd had stroking my cock into that redhead's mouth wouldn't leave me. I'd been obsessed with the powerful eroticism of the act since it happened. I'd been having vivid dreams about it. I knew I was going to take my girlfriend, with or without her consent.

I freed my hand from her grip, grabbed both her wrists, and pinned them down against the mattress, holding them above her head. I held her there with my left hand while my right pulled her pants the rest of the way down. I tore her panties off as she squirmed and struggled. She opened her mouth to say something and I stuffed her torn panties into her mouth like a makeshift gag.

I maneuvered my hips around so the head of my cock was positioned right at the entrance of her slick opening. She had always told me I was very gentle during sex. She said it like it was a compliment, but I often felt there was an unstated reproach just below the surface of the compliment. This time I wasn't gentle. Poised above her pussy, I suddenly slammed into her as hard as I could. She was very wet by now, so I went in all the way to the hilt, our pelvic bones crashing into each other. I fucked her like that for about ten strokes, driving into her as hard as I could fuck. Just as suddenly I stopped and pulled out.

Her eyes opened wide when I did that, and she sort of involuntary bucked her hips once before beginning to struggle again.

I put the tip of my prick against her pussy once again, as if I planned to penetrate her. This time though, I just softly parted her lips with the head, moistening the tip. I pulled out and slid my wet cock up along the length of her pussy, across her clitoris. Pulling back, I let the length of my dick slide back down until the head was again parting her pussy lips. I repeated this move very slowly and deliberately for a couple of minutes.

I could tell I was making her crazy because she would moan and suck in her breath when my shaft was caressing her clit, and she would thrust her hips towards me whenever the head of my cock was resting at the entrance to her pussy. She had stopped struggling. She was breathing heavily through her nose. I continued to hold her wrists with my left hand as I removed the panties from her mouth with my right. She gasped for air.

I slid into her very slowly all the way. She began to buck her hips wildly against me. I quickly withdrew.

"Shhh," I said. "Slow down. I know you like it sweet and gentle, baby. I'm going to make love to you so sweet. That's what you want, right?"

"No," she gasped.

"What do you mean, no?" I resumed my excruciatingly slow penetration and retraction. "You don't want me to be gentle?"

She shook her head back and forth.

"Oh, I get it. You want me to stop fucking you. You want me to go back to rubbing your clit."

She shook her head again. "No," she begged. "Please."

"Please what?" I asked, innocent.

"Please do it hard," she whispered.

"You want me to fuck you hard? Like this?" I slammed into her once, and then withdrew again. "Is that what you want?" She started crying very softly.

"Yes, yes. Please."

"You want to be fucked hard? Like some whore? Is that what you want?"

"Yes," she cried. "Fuck me hard."

"Say 'Fuck me like a whore'," I commanded. I continued slowly stroking in and out.

"You're driving me crazy, goddammit!" she cried out. I pulled all the way out. "Say it," I commanded.

"All right, all right. Fuck me like a whore."

I grabbed her face in my right hand and looked into her eyes, my face very close to hers. "Say it like you mean it. You want to be fucked like a whore, a slut, now say it and mean it."

She was crying and humiliated, but her need was very strong. "Please, Dave. Fuck me like a whore. Treat me like your whore."

I slid in all the way and pulled back out, still very slowly. I whispered in her ear.

"I'm going to fuck you hard now. Is that really what you want?"

"Yes, yes. Please." she whispered back. I continued my slow stroking.

"Any second now, I'm going to try to hurt your pussy with my cock." Her breathing increased. She sounded like she was hyperventilating. "Are you ready? I'm going to fuck you hard."

I drove into her as hard as I could. Letting go of her wrists I grabbed her legs just behind the knees. I pushed down hard, pressing her knees up into her body, spreading her as wide as she'd go. I fucked her as hard and fast as I could. She'd never been very vocal during sex, but she was wild this time, making loud unintelligible sounds, thrashing her head back and forth, and breathing like she was running a sprint. She came at least twice before I did. I knew from what she'd told me before that this was the first time she'd ever orgasmed from just intercourse.

When I finished I lay on the bed beside her. "Never say no to me again," I said, stroking her cheek. "If we're alone and I want to fuck you, that's what I'm going to do. I'm not putting up with any more of your irrational temper tantrums either. Next time that happens you're going to find yourself bent over something, getting fucked up the ass." Her eyes grew as big as the pillows we'd knocked on the floor. Suddenly, impulsively, she grabbed my face and kissed me hard. It was the most passionate and the sweetest kiss we'd ever shared. It ended suddenly when she pushed me away violently.

"You son of a bitch," she shouted, jumping up. "I can't believe what you just did." She picked up her pants from the floor and pulled them on. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" I made a move to get up. Remembering what I'd said about tantrums, she grabbed her things and bolted out the front door to her car.

After she left, I sat and thought about what had come over me the last few days since Andy introduced me to the redhead. I was thinking about everything that had happened when I remembered Andy's computer.

I typed in the password and pressed "Enter." The program opened.

I saw right away that I was in a database program, set up like a contact manager. It looked like it contained hundreds of contacts. Funny thing was, all the records had women's names. I clicked on a name at random, and the record sprang into view.

At the top right of the window was a picture of an attractive dark-haired woman. It wasn't a posed shot; it looked like someone had photographed her coming out of an apartment building. Her name, address, phone number and email address were all in the record, as well as a long list of one-line entries below the basic information. I clicked an entry that said "Web Sites Visited" and another window opened.

Scanning the sites this woman had visited, I realized that only sexual web sites were noted, specifically the erotic story sites. I could tell what sites she had visited, what she looked at on the sites and how many times she had visited. Andy's program was somehow logging this woman's web activity, among other things.

I opened more records and more categories. It was becoming clear. Andy had found a way to tap in to the sexual proclivities of hundreds of women who use the Internet. A smile slowly crossed my face as I began to imagine the possibilities.

To Be Continued...