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Fogger I


As an eight year old boy, I was attacked by a neighborhood dog that had
escaped her leash and bolted toward me in a blur of black and tan fur. All I
remember about that event was an intense feeling of impending doom, and
then, suddenly, that the black and brown colors of that angry streak of fur
gave way to what I can to this day only describe as a 'fog' of colors -
Angry, blind, raging colors: hot reds, and oranges. I stood frozen in place
waiting for the first bite when suddenly, without realizing it, I pushed
'blues' up out of the 'fog' and suppressed the 'reds' and 'oranges.' The
bitch stopped her charge, turned from me, and loped off to sit in the grass.
The owner came running shortly after to capture and secure the animal - He
looked at me in disbelief that I was still alive and uninjured.

I paid little attention to him, too busy trying to absorb the immense fact
that I was in the dog's head, in her mind, seeing and manipulating her
emotional condition. Each day after that, I would pass the owner's house and
'fog' his dog. I imagined the bitch and I had some sort of bond, some
psychical connection between us. And so I tested that connection, torturing
the beast with a roller coaster ride of emotional impulses. In time I
discovered I could control the animal up to a half block away, and fog her
with emotional changes ranging from frothing rage to wanton rut almost at
will. It depended on which colors I found in her mind and how hard I tried
to push them.

Actually, color isn't the best way to describe what I see. It's more like a
dense emotional cloud, diffuse, inchoate - in the aura of a animal. The
emotional content of that cloud appeared to me as colors - blues fading to
yellows, greens or reds. I could see these emotions and had the ability to
amplify, trim or suppress them entirely. Fogging the dog was fun, but being
a kid, I never thought my link with the dog as anything but a weird private
curiosity like discovering a dead body or looking at the results of ones
nose pickings. In time I lost all interest in the thing as the newness of
the experience faded.

And. of course, like any healthy eight year old, I learned how to masturbate
instead.

And that's the most it ever came to until I was thirteen - and met another
fogger. My parents had taken the family to Disney World for February school
vacation, and I hated the trip - too many people, too hot, too much wasted
time waiting in line behind too wide asses for too few exciting rides. My
brother and I dumped the rest of them, after about three days and wandered
the park looking at girls. So many there were. We met two girls from
Atlanta, Aeisha and Kim, cute, young, barely blooming and easy to talk to.
They loved the fact that we talked so "proper." And we relished in their
attention and tried every possible approach to get to first base with them.
It was fun, but the late afternoon approached and we were under orders to
meet the folks at the EPCOT Center by five. So with much regret, we left
them and made our way toward the imposed rendezvous. We talked about the
girls as we made our way thru the park. My brother had squeezed out a last
minute promise from the older of the two, Kim, to meet the next day. He
bragged she was hot for him and he was determined to feel her up if they
ever met again. I thought he was more than a little delusional; most likely
the only thing we would get to feel was the back of their hands across our
faces, I shot back.

My brother didn't answer. I repeated myself, looking at him this time. Again
he acted like he never heard a word I said. He just continued walking along
beside me expressionless, treating me as if I didn't exist. About the same
time, I began to feel the most astounding sensation: my mind was being
'tickled' - that's the only way I can describe it. I looked away from my
brother in the direction of the feeling and saw an even more amazing sight:
a couple were waiting in the hot Florida sun for their turn on a ride. A
white guy was about 20 or so, tall, dark haired and very athletic looking.
His companion was about the same age, with long blonde hair, big tits and a
nice ass. She was wearing a pale green halter top held closed by a knot
between her wonderful breasts, and a pair of tight coochie cutter shorts.
That was a nice enough view, but not unusual that day. What was, however,
was the black man standing behind the girl with his hands up under her
halter, busily massaging the hell out of her tits as the couple continued
waiting patiently for their turn as if completely unaware. The tickling
sensation increased to an irritating itch as I pulled closer to the trio. I
grabbed my brother's arm and made my way over to them to watch this amazing
outrage happening in plain view in the middle of Disney World of all places.

The black guy didn't even look at me as he spoke. "So you're the one I felt
all day?," He says.

"Huh?" I could barely blurt out.

"You're a fogger, right...you can fog?"

"Fog?"

"Com'ere kid. See this bitch. She from Europe or some fucking place. I come
here once or twice a week to grab me a new piece of pussy from the tourists
passing through. I saw her this mornin' and decided I'd take her to her
hotel for a few days, fuck the hell out of her and send her on her merry
way. I can do that 'cause I can fog, you understand. I think you can fog
too. If you couldn't you wouldn't be talkin' to me right now. You'd be like
that kid beside you, drooling on yourself." He pointed to my brother, who
was indeed drooling all over himself, like some retard.

"So can you fog?"

"I dunno..."

"I think you can. Feel that itch in your head, that's me fogging this park.
You ever seen inside a person's mind."

"A dog...once...long time ago."

"Yeah, a dog's easy to fog. Not much there to cover their feelings. Peoples
though, that takes more practice. You gotta get through all that reasonin'
and shit. See this girl's mind, like all these other peoples here. They's
emotions are buried deeper than a dogs, but you can find 'em if you look
hard enough. Foggin's not like seeing. It's more like mining. You can walk
over land filled with gold, but never know it's there 'lessin you start
diggin'. 'An' you won't see nobody's emotions, 'lessin you cut through all
that intellect."

I looked in the girl's, the first mind I had seen in five years - and the
first human mind I had seen ever. her cloud was very dense, tighter and more
chaotic than anything I had ever seen in that dog. He held her in a deep
blue state. But it was a blue I had never seen before, almost black with
streaks of yellows and golds. The dog had shown yellows when she was in
rut - but again, not like this shit. Pure and intense like staring into the
sun, pulled and swirling in and out of the blue-black of her fogged
quiescence. I pulled out her mind and looked into my brother's. His was the
same inky blue-black, but with little else except here and there traces of a
greenish twinkle. I had never seen that color in the dog's mind, so I didn't
know what it meant.

Then I tried to look in the fogger's mind. I was surprised to find brilliant
colors dancing everywhere. They swirled and tumbled through his head like a
kitten playing with a ball of yawn. I was drawn deeper into the colors and
rushed toward...where...I didn't know. With a panic I realized I was being
drawn along into some ancient hidden place inside his head and couldn't pull
back. The colors began to run and bleed into each other and far below I
sensed some awful brown space toward which I was being dragged. I tried to
break off but there was nothing I could do to break off contact with his
mind. Then, pain...and I was laying on the ground looking up into his face.

"You a stupid kid ain't ya? Stupid or just unlearned. Ya don't never try to
look in the mind of no fogger. If there's gold in these peoples' minds,
there's nothing but quicksand in the mind of another fogger. You get caught
in there, and both ya be idiots quick, fast, and in a hurry. If I hadn't
slapped the shit out ya, we'd both be done now."

He helped me up, brushed the dirt off my ass, turned me around and continued
as if nothing had happened. "No one but me and you notices I'm checking this
bitch's goods out. They can't...don't even know their own name bout now. You
the first fogger I met in bout six years. Watch this." He lifted the young
woman's arms up, and pulled her halter top off. He grabbed one of her tits
and wiggled it in my direction.

"You ever see a nice pair of tits like these. Nice...big nipples, all pink
and shit, taste good too...wanna lick?"

What the fuck!, I thought. I looked at the girl standing there, her arms
raised to the sky just as he put them, her halter top dangling from her
fingers, letting the guy squeeze and rub on her tits. Every so often she and
her boyfriend, moved forward as the line made it way to ride's entrance.
This shit was too fucking amazing to a thirteen year old.

"So fool, you wanna lick or not?"

"Okay."

"Well get over here." Against my better judgement, I moved over to the girl
and stared at her face. Like some idiot, I waved my hands in front of her
eyes to see if she would blink. It was like I wasn't even there. "You better
hurry up, I gotta go...'Old Henry' is waiting for this fine shit." I figured
I had better take up the guy's offer or never get another chance. I gently
fingered her nipple, feeling a buzz of surrealistic displacement, as I
encountered the object of every young boy's fantasy. This shit was too
fucking unreal to be happening. The nipple met my finger with a spongy
resistance, I could feel the minute pimples and wrinkles on it and the pink
areola surrounding it. I traced the line of ridges along to the smooth skin
of her breast and my hand slipped over the heavy roundness, enjoying the
tickly feeling of the nipple against my enclosing palm. That got me so wound
up, I came in my pants. The sudden feeling of hot semen splashing against my
shorts and onto my thigh scared me near to faint. And produced a wicked
laugh out of my would be mentor.

"Hey, boy...guess you liked that. Best you clean yourself up before someone
sees you. But watch this first. I get a kick outta this shit."

He slowly released the girl from her fog, and as he did I could see her
cloud get denser until the colors all but winked out in pitch black. The
girl 's arms fell to her side, dropping her halter top to the ground. She
resumed her conversation with her boyfriend in some language I couldn't
understand. There she was stark naked from the waist up and she hadn't
noticed yet. Henry spoke to her in friendly voice and she smiled. He leaned
over and whispered something to her and her face turned ashen as she dropped
her eyes to her chest as if to confirm something. The look of horror spread
and her cheeks began to redden, she turned to her boyfriend in a complete
state of confusion and panic. Henry quickly extinguished her anguish as he
put her back under.

He turned to me and laughed. "Boy you gonna have some fun with this. I'll be
going now. Me and this here slut got some fucking to do. From now on, you
gonna have to get your own feels. Bye"

I watched him walk off toward the park entrance giggling to himself, with
the girl following him like some kinda puppy. Her boyfriend still stood
there in the hot sun waiting patiently for his turn on the ride. On the
ground, at the man's feet, lay the pale green halter she had been wearing. I
decided it was time I got the hell out of there before I got arrested for
being black in presence of a missing white girl. Grabbing my brother's hand,
I pulled him in a dead run toward the EPCOT Center and our parents. That
night I laid awake thinking about that crazy nigger, and that girl (and
everyone else for that matter) standing there letting him do what he wanted
to her. Most of all, I thought about touching her tit, and cumming in my
pants. I didn't know cumming like that was possible. Two days later, I
fogged my brother for the first time.

And the last time, unfortunately. We were returning home from Disney World,
my parents, my brother and sister and myself. I had been trying to figure
this fogging stuff out for two days. I had succeeded only in getting my face
slapped by Henry and Aiesha for my effort. Sitting in the back of the car
with my sister and brother, the trip was boring and we were restless. To
break the monotony of the road I tried to see if I could get into my
brother's head. Mostly all I got was that dense cloud of inky blackness
surrounding his emotional core. Then, on the sixth or seventh try, I
discovered the knack - his 'intellect' thinned and revealed the brilliant
colors I had only seen with Henry's help in the park that day. my brother's
jaw dropped and a stuporous grin formed on his face. In his mind, azure
streaks arose out of the blue-black cloud then pale pinks and even paler
greens.

That was the last thing I remember. Three months later I woke up in a
hospital bed in traction. Inadvertently, I had fogged the entire car. My
father, as locked in a stupor as my brother, had driven into the back of
tractor-trailer. In the mad catastrophe that followed, he died, along with
my sister and mother. My brother was a vegetable; he died six months later,
never regaining consciousness. After another month or so in the hospital, I
was sent to a foster care to live. I was placed with a nice enough minister
and his fat, happy wife, who cooked the best food I tasted ever. I shared
the home with three other kids - twins boys, whose crackhead mom had lost
custody of them at birth, they were four. And Melissa, a sixteen year old
girl whose parents had also died in a car crash two years earlier. The
agency thought it would help me to adjust if I was placed with her, seeing
as we shared similar histories.

The Minister and his wife were nice enough. Although he looked very grim, I
never heard him speak above a deep whisper. He even preached that way in
church, holding the entire congregation in rapt attention in a voice I
scarce believed carried to the back of the tabernacle. He was six and a half
feet tall and skinny as a rail. Strict too. He'd have us up each morning to
read the bible before school, every meal began with his blessing, and, under
the fat smiling face of his wife, the house was organized along near
military lines. "Never forget your family, boy. Blood's all you have." He
would say. And made sure I visited my brother in the hospital every day to
conduct a 'prayer meeting' until the day he died. The twins, Shirome and
Rashon, well what could you say. A crackhead for a mom, no father, and a
life moving from one foster home to another. They were screwed already and
hadn't even seen their fifth birthday. The two of them were hyper as all get
out. Noisy, back talking, couldn't sit still for more than a minute or two.
The doctors shoved all kinds of drugs at them, but it didn't seem to do no
good. Melissa got 'brat duty,' as she called it, most days when the minister
and his wife were off doing ministering stuff. I was mostly left alone
because I was still in physical therapy from the accident, and had most
recently suffered among us - that didn't exempt me from the chores, just the
brats.

Three months into my new life, I just turned fourteen and had pretty much
settled into the routine when word comes that my brother's kidneys were
failing and his time was near. The Preacher took all of us down to the
hospital to say prayer over him and hope for a miracle. We were all in that
little room, Minister, his wife, the brats, Melissa and I, staring at my
brother all tubed up, all bloated with his own fluids, every kind of beeping
and pumping machine around him you could imagine. I hadn't realized then
that I caused that crash, Thank God, cause I don't know how I would have
reacted to watching him die. But, I knew I could fog. And, though I hadn't
tried to fog anyone since the crash, I figured if I could do it now, I might
catch a sight of him before he passed on. So I did it. Reaching into his
mind looking for his colors, or something. There was nothing, just that ugly
damp brown emptiness I last saw as I fell into Henry's mind. I vomited right
there in the room, as my brother passed away from me.

The funeral was held later that week, the Minister presiding over my
brother's last moment above ground. The church, an odd combination of
Jewish, Christian and good old 'holy roller' American religious fervor
rocked with song and sorrow. Not that these people ever knew my brother, of
course. But, I guess, the sight of the dead carried such dread for the
religious. Now, I hadn't grown up in a religious home, so most of this was
completely alien to me. But these folks feared death in a way I couldn't
imagine, or really understand. All but the twins, that is. They were
roughhousing in the middle of the aisle, driving Melissa near to tears with
their uncontrollable behavior. Now, Melissa was a big girl - 5'11" to my
5'8" then. She had a huge shock of straight dark red-brown hair which fell
below her shoulders. Half black and half Portuguese, she sported big firm
full teenage breasts. She was often mistaken for a latina, and Spanish guys
had no hesitation in throwing a little "Aeei mami, Yo quiero esta contigo."
at her in hopes of tasting her fruit. Her thighs were full, and rose to a
womanly ass that 'rolled like Jordan' when she walked. She had a style, a
way of moving and a body that made grown men turn their head, even though
she was barely more than a child of sixteen. Her personality, given her
obvious attributes, was understandably forceful and self-confident. She knew
men wanted her and delighted in the attention. With so many men in the
neighborhood trying to get in her pants, she had little time for boys her
age, and even less for an insignificant kid like me. Despite that, she was
my protector and I was coming to adore and lust for her - a confusing
situation for me. She was certainly had the tenacity and presence to deal
with most situations, but the twins drove her crazy that day and I
sympathized with her predicament.

It was time for me to view my brother's body one last time before they
closed the coffin, and I was nervous. I had never seen a real dead person
before. As I reached the casket, Shirome ran out into the aisle and started
a temper tantrum. Melissa started after him, and Rashon took the opportunity
to run off in the other direction yelling at the top of his voice. To cover
the noise, the choir started a low quiet number. Irritated, I fogged the
twins before I even thought about it. Instantly the noise stopped...and the
music...and the shuffling, moaning and crying...and everything. I had fogged
the entire church. Shirome stood in the aisle quietly, and Melissa was
frozen bent over reaching for him. I walked over to the twin and led him
back to his seat. I returned and wondered what to do with Melissa. She was
still bent over, reaching for where Shirome had been. I studied her face.
Glassy though they were she had beautiful hazel eyes, and perfect full lips,
framed by her long black hair. Her mouth hung open, and I followed the
outline of her cheekbones to the line of her neck and shoulders. Her blouse
had fallen forward and the twin cups of her bra, filled with her large
breasts, were easily visible to me. And, I couldn't resist the opportunity
to take a peek inside. Reaching into her blouse, I gently stroked one globe,
marveling at the taut fleshy, heavy feel of it. I undid one button of her
blouse and brought my entire hand into it. My fingers found the dense globe
and slid along the fullness of the breast until the nipple touched the base
between my index and middle fingers. Gently I massaged the nipple between
the base of two fingers and rolled the firm hard breast in my hand. Along
her deep cleavage, a sweaty dampness had formed in the heat of the church
and the funeral service's high drama. I ran my hand into her valley,
marveling at the wetness and gathered some on the tips of my fingers.
Drawing them to my mouth I tasted her saltiness.

My nervousness got the better of me then. I stood her up and guided her back
to her seat, and then found Rashon and placed him between Melissa and
Shirome. Finishing, I made my way back to my brother's casket. At the
casket, I released the fog and everything returned to normal. That is, it
returned to normal for everyone but Shirome, Rashon and Melissa - who had
very confused looks on their faces. And, most of all, for me: I had
rediscovered for the second time the powerful potential of fog. That night
lying in my bed, I thought about Melissa's breasts, and hatched a plan.

Two days later, Sunday, the Minister and his wife were off to visit members
of the church who had been unable to attend that week because of illness or
a lapse in observance. Melissa was left in charge of the brats and I was
directed to prepare my clothes for the coming week of school. I watched out
my window as they drove off and began to put my plan into operation. Sitting
in my room, I fogged the house and got up my nerve to do this thing. After
five or so minutes, courage in hand, I made my way down to the living room
where Melissa and the twins were sitting. They had been watching t.v. and
eating popcorn, the smell of it thick in the air. the twins were sitting on
the floor in front of the couch and to one side of Melissa, who was sitting
on the couch, legs folded under her and leaning on the sofa arm. Although it
was only about 7:00 PM, Melissa and the twins had changed into their PJ's.

I made my way over to her and looked in her eyes. Satisfied she was heavily
fogged, I touched her face and ran my fingers thru her hair. I leaned down
to smell her hair and ran my lips over her face to her mouth. Drinking in
her young girl smell, I felt myself hardening and paused to adjust my penis
in my pants. Still nervous, I moved thru the room to make sure all the
dr*pes were closed and the front door was locked. Then I returned to open
Melissa's pajama top. The buttons gave way to my clumsy nervous fumbling and
her breasts forced out pushing the top aside. I stood there
in awe of those firm ripe hard melons. They had a soft firm roundness to
them which gave way to dark brown puffy areaolae, each topped with a deep
brown fat nipple. I touched them tentatively, fearful I might do something
to draw her out of her fogged condition. Then more firmly, testing their
springiness, bounciness and mass. They hung out in all their peaked
roundness pointing at me, swaying slightly as I caressed them and admired
their fullness. I bent forward to taste one, pulling the nipple in my mouth
and rolling it around my tongue and biting it softly with my teeth. The
sponginess of the nipple in my mouth amazed me. I sat there for more than a
half hour suckling at and fondling Melissa's tits.

I remembered the words of Henry as he walked out of the park that day, "Boy,
you gonna have some fun with this." I was hooked. I knew from then on
fogging was for me.

After an hour more of playing with the fogged girl's tits, I began exploring
her mind. The blue-blackness of her fogged state was there, as the colors
you'd expect. I probed looking for her yellows, found them and tried to amp
them up. But, I wasn't too good at it. Mostly they would rise for a moment
and then fall away. As they rose, her breathing quickened, and her nipples
hardened and protruded even more than normal. Her tongue rolled in her mouth
as if she were trying to find something in there. Her pajama bottoms showed
the tell tale darkening of moisture, so I reached into her lap and slid my
fingers across the darkening circle to feel her dampness. Since her legs
were folded, I couldn't get very far, and I was too nervous to actually move
her so I could. I bent down and placed my nose in the cleft between her
thighs, at the site of her dampness and pulled her smell into my nose. The
aroma brought my penis again to hardness and I could feel the drip of
dampness forming in my own pants. After a few moments, the yellows subsided
and her breathing slowed.

Each time the yellows fell, I would reach in and amp them again. And each
time I could get a stronger response out of her. On about the forth try, her
breathing picked up a lot and she began to squirm in her seat. She fell back
against the couch and produced sharp rapid breaths, heaving her breasts up
and down in rapid succession. Her eyes, fluttered and the pupils alternately
dilated and constricted. Her mouth opened and a rush of air carried a
trilling sound. I pushed her yellows a little more and she fell forward
clutching herself and pawing at her breast, working one nipple between two
fingers and breathing in hacking, open breaths. This time, the yellows
blossomed to
the top of the blue-blackness of her fog and held there without me amping
them. Her hand rubbed vigorously at her pussy, and she yanked at her nipple
pulling it out and pushing it back deep into her breast. She squeezed and
pulled on the meaty flesh of the breast, kneading it with rapid forceful
hand movements. I was exhilarated at the performance, but overwhelmed at her
response. Not knowing where all this was going, I increased her fog and
pushed her back under. I slipped away upstairs to my room and jacked off
whispering her name. Then I released the fog and went about my work. About
fifteen minutes later, Melissa came running upstairs and into her room. I
waited, sure somehow she would suspect me - why, I don't know. When she left
again and went back downstairs, I waited a decent interval and followed her
down. She had changed pj's and was again sitting on the end of the couch
watching t.v. She didn't appear to notice me entering the room and barely
responded to me when I spoke to her. I was worried I had fucked up
somewhere. But, she mostly ignored me and watched t.v. quietly, deep in
thought and confused no doubt at the wetness in those pj's and the vague
feelings of heat still rolling thru her body.

During the next week, I was slipped into her room every night as the fogged
house slept, and making Melissa perform for me as she did that first night
on the couch. Each time, after several hours or so watching her masturbate
herself to explosive orgasms six or seven times, I would go back to my own
room and jack off furiously until my cock was raw, or I finally fell asleep.
After two weeks or so, I greeted my fourteenth year realizing I could do
virtually anything to her I wanted. I spent the wee hours fondling and
exploring every inch of her body. I would spend several hours with my nose
buried in her pussy licking at her thighs as I took in the awesome aroma of
her sex. By the end of the month I stole into her room prepared to commit an
outrage. I invaded her warm wet pussy with my fingers, spread her legs and
inhaled the raw funk of her asshole. I began slipping my fingers as deep
into her proud marvelous ass as I could go, watching the my dirt-stained
finger sliding into and out of her ass, as I sucked the flowing pussy juice
off her pussy. As I sucked and inhaled her odor, I began humping myself
into her tits and smooth flat belly. In no time at all, I came full force
all over her belly, my ejaculate spurting out between us, turning her slick
with my cum. I slid off her body to examine my deposit, captivated by it's
sticky smoothness, Sliding my hand across her belly - swabbing my cum into
it - I began working it into her flesh, mixing it with the fine line of hair
running from her navel to her deep brown bush, sliding it up to fill her
navel and trying to spread it upward to her breast. But it wasn't enough, so
I stood over her jacking my cock for several minutes until I came again,
across her breasts and chest, and slathered that in as well. It was mystical
watching my cum mixing with her sweat turning her body into as glistening
pillar of brown sugar. I leaned forward and laid my face between her
breasts, covering my face with our juices, and rubbing it in my own skin
with a slow oscillating wave of my head. I had to have more - I slipped over
her, staddling her again and laid full out on her fogged awesome body with
my head on her wonderful chest. In that position, sucking on her puffy dark
nipples and rubbing my cock on her stomach and mons, I continued dry humping
myself to orgasm after orgasm. Her body was crusted with I don't know how
many of my ejaculations. When I finally finished I had to give her a bed
bath to erase the evidence of my invasion. And so it went, night after night
for almost three months. Some nights, I didn't sleep at all, just went the
whole night, cumming on her and cleaning us up, then cumming on her again.
It hadn't occurred to me to actually put my penis in her yet, but I realized
I never had to use my hand on myself again.

As you can imagine, such absolute bliss had to have it's consequences.
Without knowing it, I was not only fogging Melissa, but altering her
emotional state with each encounter. I didn't know at the time that a fogger
can not only fog, they can "trim" as well. Fogging allows me to suppress
another person's awareness. In a fogged state a person is 'distracted', so
to speak and not open to external environmental stimuli. A fogged person
would not know, for instance, that her hand was on a hot stove, or that
someone had removed her skirt. Trimming, I discovered later, is the
manipulation of that individuals sub-rational emotional processes during the
fogged state. When I manipulated Melissa's colors, I had reformed, at least
for a short time, her emotional environment. Amping her yellows pushed her
to masturbate on the couch that first night, but it also generally increased
her sexuality for a period of time after. (Maybe even permanently, I don't
really know.) In the weeks that followed Melissa changed a lot. She had
begun to complain to me about the ugly plain clothes the Minister and his
wife provided for her. She began sneaking out the house in the morning to
school with her own 'special outfits' in her bag and changing in the school
lavatory. By the month's end, word had gotten around school and back to me
that she had traded with some boy a couple of blowjobs if he did her
homework.

I was aghast and anguished that she was developing a reputation. And more
than a little miffed that she was putting out to anybody but me. Realizing I
could be having a permanent effect on Melissa's emotional background caused
me to alter my activities a little. I still did her every chance I could,
but I was careful to suppress her amped yellows after each encounter. Like a
kid paying his parents stereo while they were out, I pushed her as far as I
could into an orgiastic moppet, but was always careful to trim her yellows
back to normal when I was done using her various body surfaces for my
pleasure. After about a month of these tweaks, she returned to the quiet but
strong-willed girl she had always been, and I again had exclusive use of her
tender body. And my ability to fog was became more sophisticated. In the
beginning I had assumed I had to fog the entire house to fog Melissa. Now I
found I could fog just her, and leave everyone else untouched. And I didn't
need to dump it on her either: I learned that fogging could be adjusted in
degrees from the merest distraction to a deep state of senselessness. In
fact, I had been altering her underlying emotional environment in part
because I was stripping so much of her intellect away, and trimming her
emotions so near the root. Her response to me was more thrilling, and far
less damaging, when I enveloped her in a light fog and trimmed only near the
top of her emotions. In a daydream state or even lighter state of fog, she
was almost 'involved' in the action. Which is to say, she didn't just lay
there and let me do her, her responses were very close to what they would
have been if she were unfogged and actively fucking me.

I could protest to you about now, that I wasn't just using my abilities to
exploit poor Melissa. In fact, I put much of what I learned to use other
ways. I found, for instance, that fogging could be used to 'tame' those
brat twins and make them easier for her to babysit. So, on the one hand, I
was using my abilities to exploit Melissa, on the other hand, I was kind of
making life easier for her too. But the reality is mostly I was using them
to have my way with her. In particular, I was intrigued by her reported
offer to suck a guy off in return for homework. It opened up a entirely new
set of possibilities for me. I began to seriously think about actually
fucking her, and all those other things boys said she offered to do, not
simply masturbating against her. I crept into her room one night and after
our usual session pulled her up out of bed to stand in front of me. Turning
her around as I circled to sit on the bed, I pressed her down to her knees.
She was still slick from four or five of my ejaculations, and, to tell you
the truth, my desire had been mostly sated by those. But, I decided to try
to see if I could get her to suck my cock, so I pressed her head forward in
my lap and pushed my shriveled boy cock into her mouth. Instantly her mouth
was alive with activity, and my head was swimming with the hot delicious
feeling of total wet envelopment. I hadn't imagine it could feel this good.
I took to scooting my ass to the edge of the bed and rocking her head up and
down along my cock in a maddening race to finish in her throat. I came, and
kept her head working up and down until I came again. Her cum slicked chest
pressed on the bedside, flattening her titties against and dampening the
sheet with my cum. I held her like that, throat full open, shoved down on my
cock, and I hugged her head as I exploded one last time in her mouth. I
finally pulled my cock out of her throat and watched it flop down onto her
titties. I pushed the head between her breasts and began again to shove up
and down along her valley. I came, splashing cum all over her tits and neck,
and watched as the thick rivulets dripped from her nipples onto her thighs
under me.

Two nights later, after we had finished dinner and I had performed my chores
of washing the dishes and taking out the trash, I just fogged the house in
a fit of uncontrollable hyper-sexual pique. Melissa was upstairs taking a
bath and preparing for the next day. I crept up the stairs and opened the
door to the bathroom, sat on the edge of the tub and watched her mindlessly
wash the same arm over and over. (That's the thing about fogging. Whatever a
person is doing when you fog them, they just keep doing over and over again,
until you stop them.) Her breasts, so tight and firm they hardly moved as
she did, lay half in the soapy water and half out. I reached in to cup them.
I grabbed the soap and lathered them up, and used the soapy slickness to
fondle and caress them. I slid my hand down her belly and into her coo,
playing with her button and rhythmically shoving my fingers in and out her
puss. I can't describe to you how much I adored her, she was so fucking
perfect, and so fucking mine. I spent a half hour just watching her in that
bathroom, and working up my heat in anticipation of fucking the hell out of
her later that night. The water was getting cold, so I let myself out the
bathroom and closed the door, went into my room and lifted the fog from the
house.

Tonight was the night. I had decided, to take Melissa's virginity and fuck
her cunt for the first time. The excitement and thrill of it all had me
jumpy and hyped up as all get out. I hadn't had the nerve to actually fuck
her before. Sure I had done just about everything I guy could do to a girl
short of that, but it seemed to me that actually putting myself in her pussy
was a step that couldn't be taken back. The anticipation of it was driving
me
crazy and I couldn't wait for the household to go to sleep for the night.
Finally it was 10pm, the Minister and his wife had been in bed for about
forty five minutes. The twins had long since been in bed. I could hear
Melissa moving through her room doing whatever in there, but not going to
bed. I waited until the moving stopped and laid a heavy fog on the house,
opened my door, slipped down to her room and went inside. The moonlight was
shining through one of her windows onto her bed outlining her body as it lay
mostly uncovered in the bed. She had on a nightie and panties set. She was
lying on her side away from me with one leg drawn up, and the other
extended. I moved quietly over to her bedside and sat down beside her.

I sat watching her breasts rise and fall as she slept through the fog.
Reaching over, I ran my hand along her thigh to her hip and then to her
waist, sliding it down onto her belly, and brought it around to slip under
her panties top. I felt the curly pubic hairs atop her mons. Her pussy lips
were very fat, and I traced them as they curved along the crest of her mons
and disappeared between her thighs. My fingers urged the lips apart and
sought out her button. As I massaged her button, I began to amp her yellows.
I wanted to be sure she was well pushed high into her yellow state before i
tried to fuck her. i didn't really know how to take a virgin, but from I had
heard - from other boys - it was supposed to be a painful and bloody event.
Above all i did not want to hurt Melissa. As I began to trim up her yellows,
Melissa moaned slightly and turned to lay flat on her back. I could feel her
puss begin to moisten under my touch. She drew up first one leg and then the
other as her breath quickened under increasing rut. Now, she arched her back
and started to hump into my fingers, holding her ass slightly off the bed
and grinding her mons on my fingertips. I knew she was throbbing, but I took
about twenty more minutes to get her to the level of yellow I wanted. By
then she had long since abandoned my fingers and was furiously masturbating
herself.

Despite the coolness of the night air Melissa's nightie was soaked with her
sweat. She had yanked her panties to one side and held them in place as her
other hand tunneled fingers first deep into her pussy. Her eyes were shut
tightly and her face was fixed with a grimace of insane lust. I climbed into
the bad beside her and gently moved her hands aside. She continued humping
into the air, and I used the opportunity to remove her soaked panties. I
pressed her deeper into her fogged state, getting ready, for the first time
in this highly one-sided relation, to actually invade her pussy with my
cock. Forcing her legs open, I crawled between them, my cock in hand, aiming
for her opening. I was so nervous my cock, though hard, was pretty dry. I
tried to moisten it by rubbing the head up and down across her cunt, but she
responded by lifting up off the bed and before I knew it I was buried to the
root in her magnificently hot pussy. The shock of her sudden lusty thrust
onto my cock and it's sudden envelopment into her liquid warmth popped me
off almost immediately.

"Wow," I thought to myself, "That was easy."

I pulled off her and watch our juices drip from the head of my cock onto the
sheet under us. There was, to my surprise, no blood in it. Of course, I know
now that the many nights I had spent fucking my fingers into her puss had
virtually worn away her hymen. Either that or that kid she traded blowjobs
for class notes with had gotten to her sweet pussy before me. In any case,I
was free to go on fucking her with gusto, and so i went back to it. Pushing
deep into her fogged body and driving my cock into her with the kind of
enthusiasm a just blooded teenager brings to the job. During the maddening
eruption that followed, I trimmed back Melissa's fog to the mildest level i
dared, bringing her even more alive in a vicious state of rut. Now, she
began to speak, even cry out for me to fuck harder into her. I complied
pushing as hard as I could with my hips, trying to slam in her pussy again
and again. As I came I did something I had never dared before, I dropped her
fog completely for a quick moment and pushed her back under again. i could
feel her body stiffen in response, clamping down on my cock and then relax
as she slipped away again. it was truly treacherous and truly a high. I
loved it. Jeez, I had to have fucked that girl for most of that night,
exhilarating in the feel of her warm tight pussy, the fresh feel of it
around my cock. It was the climactic point of my months long assault on her
body and I spent the night savoring my victory.

It was February again, the anniversary of my catastrophe. I had been fucking
Melissa regularly now for about three months. The learning curve had been a
bit steep, but since I was in complete control of the material, I adjusted.
I had taken Melissa's hymen, fucked her mouth and cunt sometimes for hours
without stop, invaded her ass and taken every imaginable liberty with any
possible erotic surface and sub-surface of her body I could reach. Night
after night she was bathed, drenched, with my cum - dripping from her
eyebrows, in her hair, on her lips, cheeks...and wherever else I cared to
deposit my load. During the day, I might suddenly take her in the bathroom
at school or at home and make her suck me off, just to hold me until night
came and I could quickly follow. I know this sounds stupid, since I was
porking the hell out of the poor fogged up child six ways from Sunday, but I
loved her. She was, at once, my most precious companion and sister, and, my
fuck-toy, and sleazy doped-up cum-bucket. I couldn't imagine wanting another
girl, since any I knew of paled in comparison to her beauty and slender
grace. As you might expect, if you give a 14 year old boy uncurbed access to
a complex, exquisite, sophisticated piece of machinery like the sex organs
of a sixteen year old girl, he'll end up fucking everything up.

In early March, I came home from school and found Melissa's room empty and
she gone for good. In the days that followed the twins and I were taken from
the Minister and his wife and placed in other foster homes. It turns out
that my exuberant exploitation of Melissa's body had led to an unexpected
outcome: I had gotten Melissa pregnant. Child services descended on the
house like a horde of locusts, moving swiftly to end what they called a
situation of possible child sexual abuse and imminent danger to the children
in the home. They tried to prosecute the Minister and his wife for abuse,
but failed when the physical evidence didn't support their charges. That
didn't help the Minister though. The intense publicity surrounding the
investigation ultimately killed him. He passed away in his sleep shortly
after her was exonerated.

And it didn't help Melissa. She was still stuck with an unwanted and
unexpected baby inside her. And no idea how such a thing had happened. No
doubt, Child Services was interrogating her trying to find out who the
father was, or pressuring her to abort or give up the child. I couldn't
know, since I couldn't talk to her or find out where she was. Fogger can't
read minds, so it wasn't like I could poke into the fucking social workers
warped mind to find Melissa. I was beside myself. I had figured out after
some consideration that I had killed my family that day coming back from
Florida. Now I had, in effect, killed my new family. Each time the same
outcome from my ability to fog.

Henry's words came back to haunt me: "Boy, you gonna have some fun with
this."


End of Story