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Introduction:

I hope you enjoy this little story of a mind controlled virgin flamboyantly losing her cherry.

This story owes its inspiration to the short story “Wine of the Dreamers,” by John D. MacDonald, which I highly recommend, although this X-rated story is entirely the product of my own twisted mind.

Puppeteer

Chapter 1

I felt the familiar disorientation as I jacked into the system, and then the rush of not-quite motion as the machine zeroed in on the location I had pre-set. Pre-sets helped if you knew where you were going, but only so far; they still left you with a couple of square kilometers of territory in the zone. Fortunately, I knew where I was headed, so it only took a few moments to zero in on the building in the warehouse district. Neighborhood notwithstanding, this particular building housed a dance club, popular with the young, the beautiful, and the rich. Once I had focused the system on the club, I spent several minutes surfing consciousnesses, searching for a suitable host. I didn’t want to spend too much time, since the system would disengage me if I didn’t find a host in the set time, and I hated to go through the whole log-in process all over again.

Fortunately, I found the perfect subject after only a few minutes. She was young, probably very early 20s. She had a killer body, slim, but with feminine hips to contrast with her small waist. Her ample breasts were probably size C+, with firm, prominent nipples. She obviously knew she was hot, and dressed to flaunt her body: four-inch stiletto sandals, a strapless black minidress, and a haircut that left her silky chestnut hair a couple of inches off her bare shoulders. Although the dress had just enough stretch to hug her body, the fabric was unforgiving in that she had to leave the upper curves of her breasts, and cleavage, partly exposed in order to keep the lower hem a couple of inches below her crotch. A black thong panty covered her sex, guarding against inadvertent exposure.

The package alone was sufficient for my purposes, but what made this subject perfect was the psychology I sensed when I first surfed her mind. Despite her impressive physical attributes, and her clear intent to flaunt them with her choice of outfit, I could tell that the subject’s sexual readiness did not extend beyond the tease; at her core she was ultimately very reserved, indeed almost timid. This was going to be fun.

I engaged the puppeteer system and settled into her mind. At first, I spent a few minutes riding in the background, as an observer, and getting comfortable with the contours of her consciousness. Then I delved deeper, asserting active control. I could have exercised complete mastery, pushing the subject’s consciousness below the threshold of awareness, but it was more fun, especially with this subject, to leave her fulling aware, yet helpless to control what was happening.

My first act once in control was to reach under the hem of (my) dress and hook the straps of my panties, crouching to pull them down my legs and step out of them. I was in a relatively dark corner of the club, and I’m not sure anyone noticed the action, but I could feel the panic rising in my host as she tried to process what she found herself doing. I savored the delicious sensation – this was my favorite part of puppeteering, and what made it so enjoyable when I could find a subject like… Sarah? Yes. Sarah.

Wadding the panties, I dropped them on the tray of a waitress clearing empties from the club and strode deeper into the club, looking for a target for the next stage of my session. Because this evening was about to get even better. Much better.

In the back of the club was a lounge area, and that’s where I found him. He was with his friends, four guys and a couple of girls. He was buff, strongly muscled with short, wavy hair and a neatly trimmed beard. A dark t-shirt hugged his torso above black slim-fit jeans. He was hot – but he wasn’t the Alpha; he seemed to be the wing-man. No matter; tonight, he would be the one going home with the best story.

I could feel the group’s attention as I approached.

“Evening Handsome; mind if I join you?” I said as I settled on his lap, not waiting for an answer.

Straddling his thighs on the leather couch, the minidress rode up my spread legs to my hips, plainly exposing my shaved pussy, outer lips opening with the posture to reveal my pink inner folds. With Sarah's mind screaming in the background, I leaned forward, breasts pressed against his chest, one hand on the leather behind his head and the other caressing the side of his face, bringing my mouth to his. I had chosen well, he responded immediately, mouth opening to receive my passionate kiss, tongue dancing with mine as I employed all my experience in the French.

Pulling back for a breath, I breathed into his ear:

“How about your 'little man?' Would he like to come out and play?

Moving from his face to his crotch, my free hand found an affirmative answer, squeezing his growing bulge. Our mouths locked again for a minute before I rocked back, using both hands to quickly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. Placing his strong hands on my waist, he lifted me slightly, shifting down in the couch a bit as I pulled his member into the open. Already quite stiff, it only took a few moments of stroking to make his cock ridged. Momentarily I paused, relishing Sarah’s terrified mental cries of “No! No!”

I realized then that this would be her first time: for all her exhibitionism, Sarah was a virgin. I laughed then in pure joy inside our shared mind, lifting my hips over the straining penis. “No! No! No! NO! NOOOOO! AAAHHHHH!!!!” Sarah’s mind screamed as I lowered her body, guiding the waiting cock into her pussy - only just starting to get wet -- straining against, then tearing through, her virgin cherry, deeper, deeper, and deeper, until 'our'' crotch settled against his hips, his still-swelling member filling our tight cunt, his head pressing hard against the inner wall of our cervix.

I rested there a moment, compartmentalizing the pain of the penetration into Sarah’s virgin and not-quite-ready cunt. Sarah’s cries continued, but they were quieter now, more resigned, more tearful: “No, no, no, no; not like this; what am I doing? no no no no no… ahhhh!” I started moving then: first gyrating my hips to stir the cock in me, then lifting up… and down – pumping him into me; slowly at first, but then faster and faster. My juices were flowing now; combined with the blood from my ruptured cherry his cock was sliding easily now, although Sarah’s tight pussy still gripped him firmly. Left hand braced against his shoulder, my right hand darted up to tug the minidress down, exposing Sarah’s round breasts. Her prominent nipples had stiffened, now standing almost a centimeter from her dark areole. I brought his mouth to one and groaned in pleasure as he sucked strongly, teeth nipping at my sensitive bud.

His hands were on my breasts now, squeezing and kneading, as his mouth worked over first one and then the other nipple. Between my legs he had taken over the initiative, thrusting deeply and powerfully. Before long his speed quickened, and I could feel his heat rising. He was close. His hands moved to my waist, and I could sense he was about to pull out.

How considerate; I hadn’t expected that level of responsibility.

But I wasn’t interested.

My hands fell to his wrists, and I let my weight hold me down;

“No. I want you inside.”

I nodded at his questioning look – and then smiled at his acceptance. His arms shifted around my back, pulling me close, and our mouths locked again. Inside, Sarah’s terror spiked again. Her mind told me she wasn’t on birth control. Although she had previously fallen into despairing – and uncomprehending – acceptance, now I felt a renewed, panicked, effort to assert control and stop what was coming. But it was hopeless; the puppeteer system gave me as much control as I wanted, and what I wanted was complete control of her body, yet leaving her fully aware of everything.

I knew Sarah felt my mark breathing hard into us as his pace quickened below – and then he plunged deep and we felt him spasm inside her. He withdrew and plunged deep again, three or four more times as he continued to unload into her hot tunnel. Then we rested together, our tongues now dancing a slow dance, before I rocked back and smiled back at his beaming face.

Fluids seeped from my open pussy when I lifted off his softening, but still erect cock, dripping on his member, and his crotch.

“How impolite of me; let me help you with that” I said as I backed off, spreading his legs to kneel between his knees. The minidress bunched around my waist, my bare ass offering a clear view of the semen still oozing from my pussy to drip down my legs. But my attention was on the semen coating the cock before me, and puddled in his pubic hair. Taking his cock in my mouth I worked my lips and tongue until he was clean, pausing from time to time to suck our juices from his matted hair. Throughout he never said a word, just smiled down at me in contentment, legs spread wide to allow me easy access.

When I had cleaned all traces of cum, I kissed the tip of his cock – stiff once more – and spoke to it:

“Maybe again some time. But not tonight;” and then tucked him back in, zipped and buckled his pants.

The look on my mark’s face was enough to tell me how much he had enjoyed the experience. His buddy, the Alpha, might have expected this kind of treatment, in the right environment, but this was new for my man, and I could see that he fully appreciated the gift.

Rocking back on my heels, I tugged the dress up over my boobs, and stood up. I watched his eyes devour my bare, dripping pussy in the moments before I finally pulled the hem down again (although perhaps not far enough to fully block the view of anyone sitting).

“Thanks, Handsome; I had fun. See ya around,” I said, and turned to go.

Before actually walking away, I briefly looked around the alcove, a saucy smile on my face. The other three men, and both women, had their attention riveted on me; I could tell that had been the case throughout my little adventure. Two of the men, and one of the women had their hands at their own crotch – and the Alpha had his hand between the legs of the other woman. I held his stare for a moment, and winked. Then I finally stepped away from the alcove.

I could see that quite a few nearby patrons had clearly also been watching – and they stared at me now.

Sarah’s consciousness had long since been reduced to a whimpering mess. She knew she wasn’t drunk, and couldn’t comprehend why she had done what she had done. To a substantial extent, her mind was broken. Now I faded back into her mind, letting her resume control of her body. She stumbled in her heels, clutching the dress over her breasts. Realization filled her that she was in control again, although her mind could not fully grasp that she had ever lost control – she could only believe that she somehow was responsible for what she had done. Her hand covered her mouth at the thought – and felt drops of cum lingering on her lips and cheek. Franticly she wiped them away, and then remembered her disarray. Her hands tugged her dress lower, but it would only go so far without pulling off her boobs, and it would never be enough to hide the drips down her inner thigh. Sarah’s panic rose again, somehow heightened now that she had agency once more. Her panties were gone; she dimly remembered that. Everyone was staring. Staring at a slut. She had reveled in being a tease, but at the same time had always looked down on ‘easy’ girls. She had to get away. The panic grew to almost overwhelm her. Riding in the back of her mind the feeling for me was almost orgasmic.

Sarah started to stumble for the exit. As she made her way through the crowd, we could see men starting to move towards her. Somehow, they didn’t look like they just wanted to comfort her.

…And then I felt the program ending. As my consciousness started to pull away from Sarah’s mind, I felt hands gripping her arms…

…and she started to scream….

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