Kirsty and the Slob
Part 1 - Introducing The Slob
In which a chance encounter on the train leads to far reaching
consequences...
The train was hot and crowded and Kirsty was pleased that she had
managed to get a seat even though the June sunshine was beating fiercely though
the window. It was always a minor triumph to avoid the inconvenience of standing
for those first few stations out of London. The little blonde insurance
technician took a Walkman out of her handbag and slipped the headphones over her
ears in order to distance herself from the press of bodies which surrounded her.
For the most part they were the usual mix of city workers, soberly and smartly
dressed if somewhat rumpled by the heat of the day; but the man sitting opposite
was rather different. He was a portly, coarse featured individual, in his late
thirties or early forties with a short sleeved black tee shirt and crew cut grey
hair. A crudely drawn tattoo decorated one pasty pale arm. Rolls of fat were
escaping above the belt of his trousers and a strong cigarette drooped from the
corner of his mouth. His eyes were half shut wells of ignorance, sunk in a slack
jawed face and showing only the thinnest connection to humanity. Kirsty
shuddered inwardly and christened him the Slob. The man turned his gaze away
from the window and gave her a wink which seemed to be full of lewd promises.
Surely she must have imagined it! She blushed with involuntary embarrassment as
the train got underway, trying to avoid his eyes but uncomfortably conscious
that he was still looking her over with interest.
For once Kirsty wished that she was wearing something more conservative.
Although her attire was perfectly respectable for an office at the beginning of
the 21st century it was subtly sexy in a way that enhanced the appearance of her
attractive young figure. Shiny black high heels and fine black tights displayed
her legs to their best advantage and she was acutely conscious of the fact that
her black nylon skirt was too short to cover her knees. Her thin white blouse
had been moistened by an inevitable hint of perspiration (given the heat of the
day) and she knew that the taut lines of her lacy white bra were visible
beneath. Kirsty wasn't a tease but she was did like to make the most of herself
and enjoyed the attention she received from the men in the office. The stares of
the Slob, however, were far from welcome. There was nothing that she dared
openly object to, although this was a no smoking carriage and the fumes from his
cigarette were annoying several of the other passengers. The man was too
daunting to confront, however, and a collective timidity amongst the commuters
prevented anyone from saying anything. Kirsty shrank under the Slob's lazy
menacing smile, avoiding the knowing look as though she were guilty of some
social faux-pas.
The train rumbled on over the molten summer tracks and Kirsty made a
deliberate effort to ignore the unpleasant stranger. After all, there was
nothing he could do to her. She shut her eyes to blank him out and turned up the
volume of her Walkman. With any luck he would have left the train before she
opened them again. As the music found it's rhythm she felt better. The stresses
of the day began to seep from her body and the clackerty-clack of the train
soothed her into a light doze. Unconsciously she relaxed in her seat and put her
head back. Soon she was quite unaware of the other occupants of the carriage...
The Slob continued his frank scrutiny of the pretty passenger. On the
whole he liked what he saw. The young woman was in her early twenties. She had
nice legs and although her bosom could not be described as ample he could sense
that beneath the sheer white blouse and tight lines of her bra, her breasts
would be sweet and tender. He'd been looking for a suitable opportunity for more
than a month and this one was nearly perfect. It was time to see whether or not
the technique would really work.
The Slob reached into his pocket and flicked a switch on a small
rectangular metal box. The device was a special piece of equipment which had
come into his possession through somewhat nefarious means. It was research
electronics capable of interfering with the normal operation of a radio
cassette. Over the top of the basic signal the machine broadcast its own
subliminal message with sounds operating at barely audible frequencies. And
Kirsty picked them up, her ears and brain absorbing the message whilst her
consciousness remained unaware of the orders filtering deeper and deeper inside
her mind. When she reached to scratch her leg the Slob smiled in secret
satisfaction. The girl was taking the bait! This was the first of the hypnotic
suggestions, a low level itch implanted just below the knee. It was a reflex
action for her to scratch - her brightly pained red nails finally laddering her
tights before the impulse was suppressed. From the compliant pattern of her
behaviour the Slob knew that he had found a perfect subject. Conditions on the
train were ideal for impressing his message. Heat, rhythmic motion and
sleepiness had all combined to induce a suspension of higher mental activity and
the blonde was obviously naturally susceptible. It had taken less than a minute
to successfully induce an initial response. Now he must make the most of the
circumstances to convey his remaining important instructions. The Slob flicked
another switch on his machine and initiated a second phase. Kirsty's programming
had begun...
Clickerty, clack, clickerty clack, clickerty clack. Under the
intermittent pneumatic hiss of brakes and the higher frequency static of her
tape Kirsty slipped into a deeper and deeper trance. She was dreaming now;
dreaming of a long slow bath. The sunshine warmed her like hot water, floating
her away from the world to a secret place where her lover was waiting. She
smiled unconsciously, thinking of his hands on her shoulders, gripping her
tightly before moving slowly over her body. It was just as it should be. She was
there to please him; there to provide pleasure for his needs. Soon he would use
her - would take her and satisfy himself with her. It was what she wanted. She
wanted to be useful. She knew that she must never disappoint him. He was
stroking her now and she could feel herself getting hotter and stickier - a
pleasing moist excitement was building between her legs. She stirred slightly as
though some subdued part of her mind was rebelling against the gathering flood
of her emotions. But any awareness of place or time had faded under the
onslaught from the Walkman. Instead she knew that she had to listen carefully.
She had to listen for two words. Listen for a man to speak the words. The man
who spoke the words would tell her what to do. He would tell her what she must
do. It would be very wrong to resist him. Very wrong. Her lover insisted that
she obey the man, and what her lover wanted was what she must do...
Kirsty felt a firm pressure on her shoulder again and the headphones
slipped from her ears. With a momentary flash of confusion the little blonde
shook her head and blinked sharply, waking up with a head full of disturbing
images. The first thing she noticed was that the seat opposite was empty. The
Slob had gone. The second thing she noticed was that he was now sitting in the
seat beside her and his strong left arm was round her shoulder! She began to
tremble in shock but before she could open her mouth to scream he was bending
his face to her ear, planting a slobbery wet kiss on her cheek and whispering,
"You're mine now, sugar pie! All mine!"
At a level far below the centres of independent thought, Kirsty
recognised the words of command. Sugar pie. There was nothing she could do to
resist the man who spoke them. She had to obey him now. There was no choice.
"Kiss me, sugar pie", he said. "Kiss me like you mean it!"
The reluctant blonde turned slowly towards him. She was still trembling
in his arms unable to understand what was happening to her. Consciously she
hated this disgusting man but her instincts had been overridden and although she
was still engaged in a silent struggle against his authority it was a losing
battle.
Now the Slob could study his victim's face in more detail. She was
pretty with a pale complexion, wavy shoulder length hair, a neat little nose and
a small mouth. The Slob enjoyed the hint of fear in the girl's wide blue eyes
which stared back at him like a rabbit caught in car headlights. He detected the
first sign of tears but ignored them, bending forward hungrily to kiss her full
on the mouth. Kirsty felt physically sick at the stench of tobacco and alcohol
on her assailant's breath but when he instructed her to bend her head and kiss
him properly she did as she was told. The Slob pushed his tongue inside the
young woman's mouth to savour the sweetness of her muted gasp of protest. She
was delicious! His left arm had now taken a firm hold and his hand reached up to
grope her breast, applying a little light pressure in a preliminary assessment
of the captive flesh. He wasn't disappointed. Kirsty's mammary glands were
softly yielding but firm enough when squeezed - a tasty morsel for anyone who
claimed them. He let his arm drop down and found the thin metal line of a zip
fastener on the hip of her skirt. Teasing it open just a fraction he loosened
the waist so that he could insinuate his fingers underneath. He kissed her
again, easing his fingers beneath the elastic of her tights and panties and
rubbing his thumb into her sex. Kirsty let out a frantic little moan of protest
and tried to cross her legs to prevent any further violation.
"Legs down!", the Slob instructed her sternly with a harsh whisper in
her ear. "I want to see what my sugar pie is made of!"
An elderly couple on the opposite row of the carriage eyed Kirsty and
the Slob with disapproval and to her shame Kirsty felt herself blushing as
though she were the one to have transgressed against public standards of
decency! Worst of all, she felt her body responding against her will. The crude
fingering was arousing her and she began to squirm uncomfortably in her seat.
How could this foul man have done this to her?
"Come on darling, zip yourself up. This is our station."
The Slob had taken control now and Kirsty found herself swept up and off
the train before she had any opportunity to prevent it. And of course this
wasn't her station at all; it was a seedy East London suburb and the abode of
The Slob. Once he had her on the platform he indulged himself with another kiss
as the train pulled away. The wench was as good as his! It was time to take her
home.
The Slob hurried Kirsty out of the station, almost dragging her behind
him so that she stumbled more than once, tottering in her high heels as she
struggled to keep up with him. In truth, despite the spectacular success of his
experiment the Slob wasn't sure how long the conditioning would last. Only five
minutes had elapsed since the young woman had removed the headphones. He
suspected that she might soon begin to recover from the initial hypnotic assault
and her individuality would reassert itself. Before that could happen he needed
to get her somewhere where he could reinforce his domination.
The streets outside the station were ugly, dirty and intimidating in
their own right. A row of old terraced housing was occupied by a few poor
tenants but many of the windows were boarded up in an attempt to prevent
squatters from colonising the vacant properties. It was obvious that this had
not entirely succeeded. The houses abutted smoke stained factory walls and an
oily garage forecourt which promised "MOTs while-u-wait" but the faded sign
looked as if it had been painted before the war. Round the corner a short space
of withered brown grass framed three nineteen sixties tower blocks which looked
more like sheds for some sort of human battery farm than decent modern homes.
They loomed over the neighbourhood casting shadows which were somehow
threatening even in the summer heat. A gang of tough looking kids with bikes and
skateboards were kicking a football against a graffiti covered concrete wall in
a half hearted way. Their game seemed to be more of an excuse for fighting and
swearing than anything else. Dogs had fouled the pavements and the grass and a
burnt out car with a "Police Aware" sticker was rusting on the road. It was the
sort of neighbourhood which Kirsty would never have visited before today.
The Slob hustled his catch part the kids who stopped to stare at them
with aggressive unfocussed adolescent anger. They entered the lobby of the
nearest tower block where the stink of old urine wafted from the stairwells. The
lift wasn't working so Kirsty was frog marched up five flights of concrete steps
before they reached an apartment where she was unceremoniously shoved inside.
The place was a tip. Clothes were strewn all over the furniture
including soiled underwear and an assortment of smelly socks. The aroma of stale
cigarette smoke lingered over everything - there was ash on the carpet and the
furniture was marked with multiple burns. Dirty plates on all the free surfaces
were mute evidence that no one had washed up in quite a while. A harsh barking
greeted their arrival and a large black Doberman bounded into the room.
"Down Mauler, down boy!", the Slob said gesturing sharply at the
snarling animal. He noticed with some interest how Kirsty quailed in front of
the beast, 'almost', he thought, 'as if she's more scared of Mauler than me'. In
this state Kirsty wasn't really capable of rational thought but her primitive
fear response was still working below the level of his control.
In the kitchen the Slob filled a glass of water and took a tablet from a
brown bottle by the side of the sink. When dropped into the glass, the white
powdery pill dissolved within thirty seconds. He returned to Kirsty and gave her
the glass.
"Drink this"
It wasn't a request it was an order. The Slob knew the importance of
simple commands with no room for interpretation. His authority worked best when
exercised in the most straightforward way. She hesitated for a moment but then
drank the water in five or six anxious little gulps.
"Good girl", he crooned feeling the beginning of an erection at this new
evidence of his growing power over the pretty blonde. Swallowing that water had
been an extremely serious error on the part of his prey. With the drug in her
system the silly bitch would be so much easier to condition.
"Now sit down", he said, clearing away a bundle of newspapers and
envelopes from an old leather arm chair. But he had miscalculated the level of
Kirsty's submission by a tiny fraction. When he wasn't facing her directly she
was just starting to find a way to muster her own thoughts. It had started when
he was in the kitchen but a certain residual numbness prevented her from acting
and when he'd returned she'd relapsed for a crucial few seconds. Now though,
something told her that this was her last chance to break free.
"No! I won't! I won't!", she squeaked as she turned away and ran for the
door. With a heartfelt curse the Slob followed, his heart pounding in his
overweight body. If the bitch got away he'd be in real trouble! She was already
on the stairs! The click of her heels on the concrete was accompanied by a
little sobbing gasp for breath as she did her best to put distance between them.
Her escape attempt might well have worked if it were not for a cruel piece of
luck. On the first landing her heel caught in a piece if iron grating which had
fallen from a vandalised air vent and she went sprawling. Before she'd caught
her breath, she felt the Slob's arms grab her brutally round the waist and she
was hauled to her feet. She managed a single scream and then he turned her round
and delivered a stinging slap across the face which shocked her into silence.
Sobbing more loudly now, the captive was easily reclaimed and marched back to
the apartment. With a quick push she was put in place in the chair and this time
he took no chances, jamming the headphones over her ears and holding her down by
the pressure of his arms on her shoulders. She kicked out and tried to punch him
but it was like trying to fight a mountain of lard. Nothing she did seemed to
have any effect and she was getting so tired, so very very tired... It was
easier just to stop now - to relax like the voice in her head was saying. Her
hands dropped to her side and she closed her eyes.
The Slob breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the combined effect of
the drug and the tape take hold, visibly smoothing Kirsty's features and
overcoming the last vestiges of resistance. In a rather perverse way her escape
attempt had actually speeded the softening up process as her burst of adrenaline
had helped to pump his drug more quickly through the bloodstream. Now he just
had to wait. The cumulative effect of chemical and auditory inputs were doing
their job very nicely but they needed time to work. This was to be a much more
thorough process of reprogramming than the relatively light snare which was all
that he had been able to manage on the train. This time he didn't have to work
through electronic interference and rely on fortunate and uncontrollable
environmental factors. Now he could pump his messages directly into his victim's
mind, which was not to say that subtlety was no longer required but the
foundations of a more permanent architecture of control could now be laid.
The Slob ran his hand up Kirsty's leg, savouring the feel of her flesh
beneath the nylon of her tights. She was going to be such a good fuck! He could
take her now if he wanted but patience was called for. Everything would be so
much better when she had been exposed to the full length of the tape.
"Good things come to those who wait", the Slob told himself, enjoying
the anticipation of a gourmet chef waiting for a delicious recipe to come to the
boil. In the mean time there was work to be done. He returned to the landing to
retrieve the shoe which had been left behind in the struggle; there was no point
in leaving any evidence of the abduction lying around, however tenuous the link.
Back in the apartment Kirsty continued to breath slowly as the tape told her
what to think. The Slob took her handbag and emptied the contents on the table -
keys, credit cards, cosmetics and some loose change. He took a notebook from the
kitchen and began to write down all the details, building up a picture of his
victim's life. All this would be confirmation of the facts he would extract from
her later. Then he poured himself a drink and switched on the TV. Kirsty needed
another hour or so to cook before she was ready for interrogation.
The darts match came to an end and the Slob switched the TV off. It was
time to ask some questions of his pretty blonde prisoner. He began by removing
the headphones, pleased to see that when Kirsty opened her eyes they were glazed
and unfocussed. The Slob decided that it would be more fun to conduct this
session with the girl naked and in any case he wanted to see some more of his
new acquisition.
"Stand up", he said, pleased with her instant obedience.
"Now strip", he said. "I want all your clothes off. And hurry up about
it I haven't got all day!" His feigned impatience soon had the anxious young
woman fumbling with the buttons of her blouse like a naughty schoolgirl who has
just been told off for not changing quickly enough before a sports lesson. The
Slob was highly amused. The beauty of this technique was that a part of the
subject remained aware of the reality of the situation but was completely
powerless to resist. Blouse, skirt, stockings, bra and panties were quickly
removed and dropped into a black plastic sack which he held out for her.
'Very nice', the Slob thought as he admired Kirsty's body. Her breasts
were every bit as delightful as he had imagined, topped by pretty pink nipples
in wide pale pearl aureoles. Her belly was smooth and taut and her sex, covered
by a fine down of strawberry blonde hair was pleasingly plump and enticing. She
was trying to cover her body with her hands but it was quite hopeless and she
gave up completely when he ordered her to sit down and rest her arms on the side
of the chair.
"I have a few questions for you", the Slob said. "You must answer me
truthfully and you must not try to hide anything from me.
He pressed the record button on a second cassette machine so that he
would have a permanent record of the interview.
"What is your name?" He knew the answer to this one already as he had
read her driving licence but it was just a warm up question. She replied
instantly.
"Very good Kirsty. Now your address." Once again the answer rolled off
the girl's tongue and agreed with details he had found on an old letter. So far
so good. The next few questions were also routine, eliciting some background
information which would prove useful later. He determined where she worked, who
she worked with, the names of her friends and the name of her boyfriend. He had
half hoped that she would be unattached but was not at all surprised that a girl
like this had a steady relationship. That would have to change...
After a while he began to ask some more intimate questions. How often
did she have sex? When was her last orgasm? Did she deliver oral sex to her
boyfriend? What about anal sex?
The questions obviously embarrassed the girl and she began to blush but
she answered them all eventually and the Slob was happy that she was telling the
truth.
"Who am I?", he asked at last, aware of her total ignorance of his name
but interested in her answer now that she had reached this state of
consciousness.
"You are the Slob", she said without hesitation. She had no guile or
sense of social form and so she just came right out with the name that had first
occurred to her. If he had thought that this was a deliberate insult or a
suggestion of defiance her interrogator might have been annoyed, but even though
she was his first subject he understood enough of the process Kirsty was
undergoing to recognise the true nature of her reply and instead he was amused.
"That's right", he confirmed with a grim smile, deciding to go along
with the name. "I am the Slob. You will address me as Sir from now on. Do you
understand?"
"Yes sir", she said. Her voice was soft and subdued.
"Now who are you?"
"Kirsty Sim...",
"No, you are not."
He cut her off before she could complete her reply, his voice firm and
uncompromising.
"You are my fuck toy. You're going to do what I tell you from now on.
And I shall be using that pretty little body of yours to satisfy my appetites.
Do you understand me?"
The unmitigated cruelty of these brutal words seemed to shock the little
blonde more that anything he had said before and for a crucial few seconds as he
watched her struggling expression the Slob wondered if her had gone too far.
Then she bowed her head in surrender and he knew he had really won.
The serious business was over. Now it was time to enjoy his prize. He
led the pretty office worker into his bedroom and ordered her to lie face up on
the bed and to spread her legs.
He took his time undressing, revealing a blubbery mass of badly kept
flesh as he peeled off his top and unfastened his trousers. Kirsty's expression
was a picture - a picture of loathing, apprehension, fear and resignation. But
the Slob didn't mind that; in fact her revulsion excited him. He came over to
her at last and sat on the edge of the bed causing the springs to creak in
protest. The little blonde shivered as he ran his fat hands over her naked body,
squeezing her breasts with speculative amusement and pinching the nipples. One
hand continued to maul the softly yielding cushion of her left mammary as the
other stroked her flat belly and probed between her legs.
"You'll soon be ready for mounting!", he mocked as his fingers teased
her sex. "I want my little sugar pie wet and eager before I'll ride her."
Kirsty swallowed with the effort of fighting a useless battle. There was
absolutely no way this pitiful parody of foreplay could be stimulating her and
yet it was! "Sugar pie" was some kind of key trigger and it had completely
bypassed the centres of her conscious control. Without volition she was becoming
helplessly aroused. She groaned softy and pressed her bottom harder into the
mattress in a futile effort to resist.
"You're just a damp little tramp aren't you?", the Slob grinned. She was
ready now. He straddled her and pushed his still stiffening rod deep inside with
one easy thrust.
"Nice and tight!", he grunted. He looked in the mirror to savour the
view of his own gross mountain of flesh so obviously in command of the sweetly
supple body pinned below it. Naked and struggling, Kirsty was a marvellous sight
and he lifted himself slightly just to ram into her again.
"You're one hot bitch!", he said, fucking her harder now and relishing
the sensation.
She surrendered to him utterly, her disgust and horror overcome at the
last by his cunning manipulation and the brutal assault on her body. Her hips
jerked in a spasm of release and she gave a tight little gasp of orgasm. At the
same moment The Slob grunted in satisfaction and spent himself inside her. Thick
streams of his sticky white fluid fountained inside the warm tunnel of her
flesh. He breathed deeply, savouring for a long minute the shuddering collapse
of the helpless blonde crushed beneath him. But Kirsty had an important lesson
to learn and she needed to learn it now. When teaching a pet the proper limits
of behaviour the punishment must immediately follow the crime to ensure that a
correct understanding is attained. 'Just so', thought the Slob as he dismounted,
turned an exhausted Kirsty over his lap and without warning or explanation began
to spank her bare bottom. She squealed and tried to kick but he was remorseless
and strong. Soon the blonde's buttocks were flushed with a bright pink rash of
pain and she was reduced to sobbing and squirming feebly against him.
"Let that be a lesson to you", he said at last. "In future you will only
climax when I give you permission"
He pushed her away so that she fell to the floor.
"Get up you stupid little slut! You've got to clean yourself up before
you can go."
Kirsty began to sob quietly, but when the Slob delivered a sharp little
kick to the ribs she struggled to her feet and followed him into the bath room.
He ran a cold bath and ordered her in, supervising whilst she ran a sponge over
her shivering body. In fifteen minutes Kirsty was dry and dressed again but
before she could be allowed to go he sat her down under the headphones again for
a final ten minute session. There were some important instructions which had to
be delivered....
The Slob watched Kirsty walking back to the station from his upstairs
window, her heels clicking on the pavement like the hooves of a nervous gazelle.
She still looked delicious in her smart stockings, skirt and blouse and only the
Slob knew that he'd taken her panties as a minor trophy. Already the young woman
was beginning to forget her experiences in the flat, suppressing the memories he
had told her to lock away; and there were other significant alterations inside
her head. By the time she got home she would only 'remember' a long breakdown on
the train.
The Slob smiled. Kirsty was perfect - just perfect. And he had only
begun to work with her...
