Read The Fucking Manual

"O-okay," he had replied, and then made excuses for why he had to run off to work so soon.

It was evident Morgan remembered nothing of giving him head, though she apparently did remember the sex itself. Did the ear-stroking thing generate some kind of autonomic response, almost reflexive in nature? It hadn'tseemed reflexive, it had seemed... oh, who was he kidding? Even if it had been utterly mechanical and passionless, he'd not had a blow job in over two and a half years, and whatever she'd given him had felt wonderful. He certainly wasn't going to complain about it.

But he sure as hell was going to find out whatever else he could from the so-called Owner's Manual. He resolved to read it "cover to cover", if you could say such a thing about pages made of two-inch thick chiseled stone.

Much of it was pretty dull stuff involving how many yaks or sheep a woman was worth on the open market depending on her general appearance and skills. Blah, blah, blah... fascinating reading at the time, he was sure, but very impractical unless he was seeking to revive the yak as a standard of commerce. Tablet 3 was where the document finally began to "put out", as it were:

... Short commands, easily understood by even the most stupid of Women, can be [presented?] to her with [assurance?] of success while boldly but not violently pressing the navel with one fingernail and circling her nipple thrice with another. This will prove useless if Woman has recently been purchased from a [foreigner] and not yet been [educated?] in your speech, so if you wish to partake of the fruits of My labor here, you should teach Woman to understand you. You will want to do this anyway in order to [ensure] she knows how you like your meat seasoned when she cooks your meals...

Interesting. He made the mental note to try that one out. "Commands", huh? He skimmed more discussion about how to get your woman to clean up the household bowls and urns until he found more of the good stuff:

... strive to use logic and reason to sway her thoughts. However, as Woman was created imperfect (as were you, [bozo], so let it not go to your head), oft she will not respond favorably to your words, especially at certain times of the moon. In that case you are permitted to use your influence on her, but be warned that the method is neither [permanent?] nor [far-reaching?]. Had I made it [either], you would forsooth mess Woman up entirely, and no doubt spoil her for the rest of your brethren in the process. And I wish [not to have to] hear the whining about it in prayer for years on end...

This could be good! Once again, the damned belly-button was the key. This time, however... um, okay, not exactly what he'd hoped for, but, given what he was going to get back out of the deal, it was worth it. He'd done kinkier.

He pressed on. There were things about how to punish women for mild infractions, and on keeping her away from his "brethren" so they couldn't use their own techniques on her, but Tablet 11 provided seduction methods he could not pass up. He read these quite thoroughly and found himself getting stiff at just the thought of the possibilities. Rather than take care of this matter in the restroom, he resolved to meet Morgan and try out his new learnings.

As he prepared to go, he started to worry about other people getting into this information. Sepi, of course, or one of the grad students, or the frickin' sysadmin, for that matter. He didn't think anyone would believe it actuallyworked but he also didn't want to take the chance they might start blabbing it all over campus. What would happen if Morgan read the newspaper and saw commentary on the ear-rubbing technique? Sure, she didn't seem to remember what happened afterward, but next time he tried it she'd sure as hell figure out what he was going for.

He slapped down a simple read permissions restriction on everyone but himself, then found those instructions for strong encryption the IT department had provided (and he'd filed away in his "Useless" folder) two semesters back. He applied those to the translations and then sat back and worried less.

As an afterthought he checked his email, finding that Sepi's mail asked him how the project was going, and whether the algorithm was working or not on the new inscriptions. He wrote back something noncommittal but positive-- he wasn't yet ready to share his discovery until he understood the ramifications of it. "The image acquisition software seems to be working on the new tablets," he replied, "but the translation is questionable. Will update you later. Rgds, Frank."

With that he started to log off... then abruptly decided to lock and encrypt the directory where the photo scans of the inscriptions were, too. No problem being overly cautious for the time being.

He pushed back from the terminal and headed to the student center for a cup of coffee. His hard-on had faded while he took care of the file maintenance, but it was lurking below the surface, ready for action.

* * *

Use of physical force to take Woman against her will is not permitted (see My other publications for details). However, never let Woman attempt to convince you that the sex act is only for procreation. If that had been My will, I would have made Woman ugly and of a displeasing aroma when infertile. Use her whenever you can convince her to desire you. She may complain of mysterious aches and pains in order to avoid your touch, but as you know I have provided you with the means to negate this objection in The Rubbing of Her Feet...

-- Woman: The Owner's Manual, 12:14-25

He called Morgan's cell phone with the hopes of having her meet him there, but he was transferred to her voice mail. Letting her know where he was headed and why, he hung up and trudged up the hill to the blocky building's main entrance.

He stood in line at the coffee counter while a pimply-faced kid prepared his espresso and a heavyset girl took his money and provided him with change. Thanking her, he grabbed his coffee and took a table near the window, looking out over the lake for a bit. Approaching the lake side entrance was a group of six or seven students carrying banners which he couldn't quite read. Protestors over something or other. Four of them broke off toward the dorms, but the last couple came into the student center. Among them was a stacked blonde in a belly shirt and skin-tight jeans, and as Frank stared at her revealed tummy, the beginnings of a plan began to stir in his... well, head.

He finished his coffee, and then bought another, added cream and sugar packets to a tray, and brought them over to the girl, who had bidden her last companions good-bye and sat down.

She looked up at him, unamused, as he lurked. "What?"

"I thought you might like some coffee, so I brought you some."

"Why?"

Uh... this was not going well. "Because you look like an interesting person to get to know."That sounded stupid. Do better.

"Listen, jerk, I'm not interested, okay?" She thrust out her chest, and at first he thought she was showing him her tits in contradiction to her words, but then he realized she was pushing forth a button pinned to her shirt. A button with rainbows and a pink triangle. Oh.

"I can... uh... see that. Look, I'm not trying to hit on you, I'm just, you know, bored, and would like to talk to someone, okay?"

"Beat it, dork, before I call campus security."

Snotty bitch. Wasn't even going to give him a chance-- the fact that she was a lesbo notwithstanding, this was just rude. He glanced left and right, briefly wondering how insanely kicked off campus he was going to be, but the "give me head" reflex unquestionably worked, so he had confidence the rest would as well. In a snap designed to look like he was examining her button more closely, he snaked one hand down her abdomen to her belly-button while the other gently added his fingernail to the nipple through the shirt. Would it even work through the shirt?

She was too startled to protest immediately, and as she finally opened her mouth to scream he completed the third circle and hissed, "Be quiet and sit still!"

Worked like a charm, and his cock rose in celebration. He tried hard not to dance. He circled again and murmured, "Come quietly outside with me."

Together they went out toward the Main Library, stopping in the midst of some well-manicured shrubs. He nippled her again before instructing her to sit, and then to let him rub her feet. She bristled at the treatment and her eyes held fire.

"Don't worry, girl, I'm just experimenting."

He kneeled down next to her and removed her stomping shoes. He proceeded to give her arches a thorough rubdown, and then began tracing the lines of her footprint. He watched her expression as it went from hatred and fury to studied indifference and eventually to... arousal? He sure hoped so. His fingers were getting tired, and she had entirely too many clothes on.

He ran a nail up the center of the foot and when he reached the toes pulled each until their knuckles cracked. When he reached the pinky, the girl erupted with a moan, and her thighs parted. She looked at him hungrily, and slid her hand down her jeans for release.

He ignored this, continuing with the patterns and rhythm the book had noted... and she jumped on top of him, filling his mouth with her tongue as she ground her denim-covered crotch up against him. Her fly was open in an instant, and she shucked her jeans with a swiftness which belied their tightness, hooking her thumb into the panties, too, to remove them at the same time. Her cunt was wildly thatched and unshaven; that was okay, so was he! He dropped his looser, much easier to remove slacks; she pried her nether lips open and without bothering with foreplay slammed down on his cock with the force of a hurricane.

He couldn't believe this hot piece of ass was actually fucking him, not even knowing his name, and despite her proclivities. She pressed down at him and he felt the lubrication of her cunt dampening his lap as she thrust him in and out of her. She rode him like a bucking bronco and didn't stop until his reflexes took over and he squeezed his ass muscles to thrust impossibly upward into her as he himself came generously and totally in her moisture. She absorbed this and jammed herself down on him in her own climax, grunting with the animal pleasure. When it was done, she fell back in relief, and he rose up in reaction, looming over her. Now that the involuntary sex was over, she looked horrified at what she had done-- or more properly, what he had made her do. He decided to try out the other technique from the book.

Plugging her navel with his thumbnail, he leaned down and licked her armpit simultaneously. Definitely not his idea of erotic, but if the results were as the book promised...

She relaxed and her eyes went blank.

"What's your name?"

"Pauline," she replied, as if in a trance.

"Good, Pauline. I'm Frank. You're a lesbian, aren't you, Pauline?"

"Yes?" she dripped out in a questioning but dulcet tone. "Lesbian."

"But you make an exception for me, don't you, Pauline?"

"I-- what...?"

"You are a lesbian, but with me you're straight."

"Uh..... okay... With you I'm s-s-s-straight."

"Very good. Say it again."

"With you I'm straight, but otherwise I'm a lesbian."

"Correct. Now, let me touch your ears. Yes, that's it, I--"

There was a gasp behind him and he turned to meet the eyes of their audience.

It was Morgan, come to meet him at the student center. She stood stunned for an instant, looking as if she were living a nightmare, then turned, sobbing, and ran.

"Shit," he almost said, thankfully realizing in time that Pauline was still obeying commands. He pulled out of her and chased after Morgan as soon as he could get his trousers up above his knees.

* * *

Woman was made for you, and for you alone. No matter what she might request, you are not to share her with dogs or horses or any other beasts of the earth, unless that somehow increases your own enjoyment of her or she is to be punished for trespassing against you.

Let not Lilith's example with her sisters influence Woman: Woman is strong enough for Man, but not made for a Woman. If she insists she needs someone to lick her womanhood, tell her that is your job. If she desires instead to consume the fluids of womanhood, use her mercilessly and then, without washing, take advantage of the reflexes I have earlier detailed in Getting Inside Her Mouth. This should satisfy her sinful and unnatural cravings.

If it does not, tell her I said you could watch.

-- Woman: The Owner's Manual, 9:28-73

He raced home, but his bicycle was no match for her Toyota, and her suitcase was bursting with clothes by the time he showed up. There was no screeching, no accusations, nothing but a cold, bitter attitude that would have shriveled his cock into a worm if Morgan could have managed it.

The question was, what the fuck was he going to do about it?Honey, I can explain... Not gonna work out.Don't worry, she's a lesbian! Um... no. Well, he knew what he could do, but it involved getting closer to Morgan than she was likely to let him. He had to try, though...

"Morgan, if you're going to leave, I understand. I just need you to tell me off to my face. I deserve that. Hell, you deserve that."

She didn't stop packing. "You don't deserve shit, asshole. Just stay the fuck out of my way and don't talk to me anymore." She struggled with the zipper as it caught on a pair of slacks, then gave up and just met the piece of cloth on its other side with the opposing zipper.

"Mor--"

"Shut up. Shutup! I don't want to hear it! I don't want to hear anything from you, anytime, ever again!" She whirled around, her suitcase in hand and almost ran right into him. He blocked the door.

"Put the bag down."

"Fuck. You."

"Give me the bag, Morgan."

"Get out of my way or, so help me God, I will claw your goddamned eyes out."

"Drop the bag."

"Like hell!" She rushed him, and he grabbed for the bag. By reflex, she put both hands on the bag to keep it. But the bag was just a feint, what he really was after was her left breast. And her navel. "Get your hands off my tits, you son of a bitch! Who the hell do you think you--"

And before the fight had begun it was over. She didn't finish her sentence, as he grunted, "Sleep!" at her as soon as he'd completed the third circle around the nipple. He caught her so she wouldn't hit her head on the hardwood floor, and dragged her to the bed. He wasn't positive he needed her awake, but it made sense that she had to hear him, so he looked for something to tie her with. Last night's satiny nightgown, now atop the from last night's laundry heap would be as good a binding material as any.

Frank was just finishing yanking up her blouse to expose her abdomen when she came to, again. Crap, that sleep hadn't lasted long. And he hadn't had the chance to tie her legs or gag her. The screaming began again, and he had to shut her up before one of the neighbors called the cops or something.

He thrust his finger into what he was starting to think of as the female "command interface", and immediately tongued her underarm until she sighed and her legs stopped kicking. "Morgan?"

"Yes?" she buzzed, unwittingly echoing Pauline's tone precisely.

"You're feeling anger with me right now because you think I've betrayed you, betrayed us. Those feelings are silly. You know that, right?"

"Wha--?" The strength of the emotion gave her more fighting power than the lesbian, earlier, but the reflex was stronger than mere passion. "Okaaaay..."

"I haven't betrayed you. I am a man, and men sometimes need more than just what one woman can offer. This is perfectly natural, and nothing to be upset about. You understand?"

She was dreamy, as expected, but was coming out of it. "I... understand? But... not... fair. What about women? Why just men?"

He gave her a refreshing tonguing and she relaxed back on the bed again. Morgan was much more resistant than Pauline was; he wondered whether it was because she was stronger-willed, or just more emotionally involved than the other woman. Other woman... Well, it would be fair. Or fairer, anyway, if not exactly as the author intended. "Why just men?" indeed.

"You're right, Morgan, that wouldn't be fair, I agree. Sometimes women need more than just one man. They need other women. You can and should feel free to sample as many women as you'd like."

"Sample?"

"Have sex with."

"Ohhhhh..." She looked perturbed.

"You'd like to have sex with other women, wouldn't you? You can and should."

"Can and should?" She smiled. "Can and should, yes."

Well, that took care of that. "So you're not angry with me, and you know I must sometimes have other women, and you're not jealous because you know you must sometimes have other women, too. Right?"

"Right..." She was slowly coming out of it again, and this time he let her. This discussion and the implications and brought his seemingly hibernating cock back to life again.

"Frank, why don't you untie me. I'm not mad any more."

"Nah, I kinda like you like this," he laughed.

She laughed back. "Yeah, I bet you do. Listen, I-- what are you doing?"

"Rubbing your ears."

"I know that, silly. Why?"

"Just wondering what will happen."

"You'll tickle me, that's what. And then I will find a way to get even when I'm untied, and I--" Her head jerked downward toward his crotch, but she couldn't reach it from this vantage. She struggled for it, and he feared she was going to tear her arms off or otherwise hurt her neck, so it was out of pure concern for her well-being that he crawled up onto the bed and rammed his erection between her lips. Charity, almost!

He moved around to affix his lips to her own crotch, and once again the smell of hot girl did things to his hindbrain which made him dive into her with desperate desire. He'd better get as much pussy-licking in as he could-- it was likely that there would be several women duking it out with him for this spot soon enough (not that he minded, overmuch). Very pretty women, certainly, especially once he found a likely lass and was able to get access to her navel. Thank God for belly shirts!

It was a battle between them, now, to see who could make the other come first. Morgan would surely have won had Frank not expended himself earlier so many times, but though she gave a good effort his tongue swarmed her clit, and when he broke from it to whisper, "I can't wait to watchyou do this," her cunt bucked upward at him before he even dropped his face down into it again. Her orgasm, and the way in which he'd achieved it, did cause him to spurt all over her tongue and lips, and she fell asleep slurping his come down. He watched carefully to make sure she was safe from choking because that was just the sort of considerate boyfriend he was.

He lay for awhile, afterward, staring at the ceiling with a shit-eating grin on his face. That the techniques from the Manual had worked on Morgan was amazing, but the fact that they had worked on another woman who was completely unattracted to him in other circumstances-- most especially Pauline-- gave him a thrill he hadn't felt since Christmas morning, circa age ten. The whole world of deliciously sexy women was open to him. Literally open. He started to stiffen again at the concept, and wondered if the ear thing worked while the chick was sleeping. Wouldn'tthat be a trip?

So much for the Nobel Prize, though. If he published his findings, it would create cultural mayhem. Worse, the damned feminists would likely do something nutty and unhelpful like making belly-shirts illegal or making armpit-licking without prior consent a felony. No, this information could not be released.