From agate!howland.reston.ans.net!ix.netcom.com!netnews Tue Oct 3 10:35:06 1995 Path: agate!howland.reston.ans.net!ix.netcom.com!netnews From: b1223@ix.netcom.com (b1223 ) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg Subject: Lisa's TG Library: "A Very Good Boy" by Chelsea Brown Date: 2 Oct 1995 08:07:41 GMT Organization: Netcom Lines: 212 Message-ID: <44o6kd$ein@ixnews5.ix.netcom.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: ix-ir14-18.ix.netcom.com X-NETCOM-Date: Mon Oct 02 1:07:41 AM PDT 1995 Xref: agate alt.sex.stories:103203 alt.sex.stories.tg:890 Didn't write it, not responsible for it, enjoy it! -Lisa Blades A Very Good Boy by Chelsea Brown ****** Christopher was a good boy. Everyone said he was a good boy. His teacher did, his mother did and his Aunt Roberta did. And Mr. Blenkinsop, the history teacher, said he was a very good boy. The only problem was, Mr Blenkinsop said, that Christopher was not doing very well in history. Christopher was a popular boy, and well behaved, but those English Queens had him totally confused. Mr Blenkinsop said he liked Christopher, and was willing to give him extra tuition! Christopher's mother was VERY pleased, because she could not afford a private tutor, but wanted to afford Christopher every opportunity. So it came about that, the following Saturday morning, if you had been standing just outside Mr Blenkinsop's house, you would have seen Christopher go cycling up to his front door, get off his bike, lean it against the privet hedge, and push the big brass bell. You would also, if you'd been looking, have seen Mr Blenkinsop open the door, and welcome Christopher, tell him to wipe his feet on the mat, usher him inside the house, and close the big front door after him. Inside, Mr Blenkinsop showed Christopher to the study, and heated up a kettle to make some tea. Christopher sat down on the edge of the leather settee and looked at all the books on the shelves. He didn't see Mr Blenkinsop carefully pour some white powder from a screw of paper into one of the cups before bringing in the tea things on a tray. Mr Blenkinsop started talking about school, and Christopher's class mates, and the girls at school, and history, and other things of no importance as he poured the tea, and passed a cup - THE cup - to Christopher, along with a plate of cookies. Christopher drank his tea without gurgling it, as he'd been taught, and had one cookie - out of politeness. The tea tasted strange, but he assumed it was some expensive blend that he was unfamiliar with, and that he was a very lucky boy to be given it. Mr Blenkinsop came and sat next to Christopher on the settee, and Christopher found that Mr Blenkinsop's voice had a hypnotic, droning quality to it. Pretty soon, although he was hearing the words, and was able to respond to them it was with all the animation of a zombie. Mr Blenkinsop checked his watch and cleared the tea things into the kitchen. As he washed up the cups, he thought about the many times he had invited Christopher around in the past. The first time, how carefully he had hypnotized the boy - a job made easier subsequently by the introduction of the mind altering drug that he slipped into Christopher's tea. Mr Blenkinsop checked his watch...another few minutes, and the drug would be at full power. Mr Blenkinsop reflected on how lucky he was to have found Christopher. He looked at Christopher, sitting on the couch, upright but deep in the trance. The boy was small for his 17 years, slim and lithe without an ounce of surplus fat, blonde haired and blue eyed, and still too young to shave. All of which added up to a perfect candidate for the teachers very special requirements. By the time the tea-things had been put away, Mr Blenkinsop decided it was time to proceed to the next stage of the plan. He sat down next to the boy and whispered into his ear. Christopher felt, rather than heard, Mr Blenkinsop tell him to follow him. He stood up and with sure steps mounted the stairs. When he got into the bedroom that had been prepared with loving attention to detail, he found that he wasn't surprised to find, laid out on the bed, a beautiful satin peignoir; with a blonde wig and makeup on the dresser, and heels and stockings by the side of them. Under Mr Blenkinsop's insistence, he sat at the dresser, having first undressed completely, and found that he seemed to know instinctively how to apply makeup. He added a pair of gold earrings and placed the lush blonde wig on his head, brushing the golden hair into an exciting, feminine young style. From the bed, he picked up the silky stockings, rosing them up before slipping them up his silky young legs. Next, he fastened a wide, black satin garterbelt around his slim waist, and as he fastened the 4 elstic straps to the stocking tops, he was seemingly oblivious to the way the black satin framed his small blonde bush, with the boyish cock most invitingly. Next, he picked up the silk teddy slipping it over his slim hips before slipping the straps up his slim arms. Next he slipped into the peignoir, arranging it loosely across his shoulders before tying the ends firmly at her waist. Finally, a pair of black patent leather heels completed the picture as she stood coyly before a full length mirror and struck a sultry pose. Christopher was now Christine. She stood there, a beautiful robot awaiting orders. Mr Blenkinsop watched her, savoring the next moment. After a moment or two, he whispered softly to her. The effect was startling, like a doll coming to life. Fire flashed in her eyes and she took a couple of deep breaths She turned to look at herself in the mirror and, when she saw her image, let out a soft moan. She saw Mr Blenkinsop approach her and gently caress her shoulders. She turned to him, put her arms around his neck and gave him a deep kiss, her tongue probing its way into his mouth. She could feel his hardness push into her belly. Eventually, she pulled away and lay back on the bed, inviting Mr Blenkinsop to join her. He dropped his trousers and pants and hopped over to the bed. As she wiggled into his arms she again turned her mouth towards his, seeking his kisses before instinctively turning away from him, arching her pert little bottom for his enjoyment, wiggling it against Mr Blenkinsop as he had taught her, so long ago. When Christine had heard the command to wake up, she had become aware of more energy flowing through her than ever before. She looked at the reflection of Mr Blenkinsop, behind her. , she thought. She turned to kiss him, to keep him sweet. She lay back onto the bed and readied herself for his onslaught. As he forced his way into her, she remembered an incident that had occurred only that week! Christopher had been walking through a shopping mall with some school buddies, and had stopped to gape at the sexy clothes in the window of a lingerie store. Christine had felt her self awaken, and was soon eying the satin panties and lace bras on display. She had felt her pussy get wet and had only been frightened back inside Christopher by his friends jostling him and joking crudely about his rather obvious erection. She felt Mr Blenkinsop's hand encircle her excited young cock. , she thought, She squirmed round in the bed, and continued to play the game, moving herself into the classic '69' position. She took Mr Blenkinsop's small, rather pudgy, member into her mouth, and began the movements that she had learnt would please him. , she thought, distastefully, Her excitement produced the required result and she squirted a stream of hot jism down Mr Blenkinsop's throat. In turn he managed a few drops of a rather clear liquid to trickle onto her tongue. She clambered off the bed and ran into the bathroom. She washed her mouth out and gargled with his mouthwash. , she thought. She gave a groan as she felt a familiar stirring in her loin. She looked at the clock. , she thought with a smile. She went back into the bedroom. "It's time", she said. Mr Blenkinsop tried to reason with her, but she was adamant. "I can feel him stirring, wondering what's happening. If he comes back when 'he' looks like this....", she slid her hands up and down her body, sensuously, "....he'll figure out what's going on and never come back". Mr Blenkinsop had to agree, and watched as Christine sat down at the dressing table, pulled her wig off, and started taking off her makeup. A few minutes later, she was back downstairs, dressed in Christopher's cutoffs and t-shirt. Mr Blenkinsop moved in for one last kiss, but she backed away. "Not when I'm dressed like this," she said. "You know I can't". She sat down on the couch. "Do it!", she commanded, "Do it now!". Mr Blenkinsop sighed, sat down beside her and started whispering in her ear. A few minutes later, he was describing to a confused Christopher how he had fallen asleep during the History coaching. If you had still been watching Mr Blenkinsop's house later that same day, you would have seen Christopher come out of the front door, wave goodbye to Mr Blenkinsop and climB back onto his bicycle. He felt good; it was a warm summers day, he was due to meet some of his mates at the mall, and Mr Blenkinsop had promised to give him some more coachingonto hollowing weekend. You might even have seen Christopher stop smiling as he cycled away, and then, if you listened carefully enough, have heard a small sweet and sinfully seductive voice laughing evilly. FIN