Some people would call me impulsive, insensitive, and medieval. Most likely my boss would call me hard working but lacking the ability to be inventive but who cares what this woman who has been my nemesis ever since I graduated college thinks. I would call myself impressive, powerful and brilliant, but first to the basics and why this tale will have an impact on the lives of men and women around the world.

I'm Frank Littlejohn senior programmer and analyst for the world's largest computer operating system software manufacturer. At 33 years old I'm 5'7" tall. The farm labor of my youth still shows through my tanned upper body and rigged arm muscles. My balding head has remnants of black hair streaked with grey.

I was born in a small farming community in Indiana and as a youngster worked hard on the family farm. This difficult work left me physically strong and gave me ample time to develop a superior IQ, but it also required so much time that I did not have a chance to socialize with my peers during high school. This lack of a social life made high school emotionally rough on me.

I had the size and physic to be an athlete but I lacked any natural athletic abilities. I spent countless hours at home tossing footballs and playing basketball with my younger brothers. Curses would escape my lips with each failed pass or shot. This lack of ability kept me from being the jock of the class even though I desired to be the boy every girl swooned over. Though out the torture of high school I swore that one day every woman would crave to spend every moment with me. Rejection by the high school girls left me a virgin throughout my school years. Instead of sexual experimentation with young supple girls who were becoming woman I had to settle for late nights hidden under the covers of my bed with various magazines and my active imagination.

Instead of focusing my efforts on the girls in class I focused my energies on academic studies and in my senior of high school I was offered an academic scholarship to a prestigious university.

I remember the first time I toured the big campus. I entered the student union for the first time and viewed the women students as they bustled through the building. I explored the student recreation center and watched the students engaged in a wide variety of physical activities. Everyone seemed cheerful and friendly. All the girls appeared beautiful and available.

I walked the Greek community and marveled at the various fraternities I had watched numerous movies and I was well aware of the sexual escapades that happened behind the walls of these fraternities. Surely one of these paragons of academia would recognize my superiority and want me as a brother. As a member I would surely lose my dreaded virginity. This hope was dashed when during my freshman year no fraternity allowed me to pledge.

Once again I focused my energies on things other than girls and I eventually earned a degree in computer science. At the age of 21, I was hired by my current employer and moved to the great state of Washington. What a change from the Indiana farm, high school and college. Now I would be recognized for my abilities and I would have women treating me as I deserved to be treated.

After six long years of hard labor I find myself currently working for a narrow minded and ungrateful boss. I have been relegated to meaningless task that have little or no impact on the company's performance. I was born before computers were well known and in everyday use, but that is not an excuse for these geeks around here to think I am obsolete and of no use. Any visionary could see that my programming ideas would obviously improve and expanded the company. Regrettably I do not work for a visionary and my ideas are continually rejected while less progressive ideas are hailed as godsends. Why hasn't the company seen my superior abilities is a question that has been tormenting my mind for the last several years?

I have given intense thought and have spent countless restless nights trying to find the reason for the rejection of my ideas. I now have the answer and it is so obvious that I am surprised I didn't realize what it was years ago. My boss is a woman. That is the answer. That is why I have not been given the opportunities I deserve. She like all women is rejecting me not my ideas. She is rejecting me as all women have rejected me in the past. I must understand and correct these rejections if I am to advance within the company.

Even before college I had proven that I could master any software or any hardware. I could master any subject my superior IQ chose to master. However, women are the one item that continues to be a mystery for me. I knew if I studied hard enough I could master women. I would become the Casanova of this generation and then I would seduce my boss into accepting my ideas.

I knew my professional and personal frustrations would be over when I mastered women. This idea crossed my mind even though at the age of 27 I was still a virgin. I knew I could understand and master women but where and what to study. How best to understand women. I had always sought out the experts when there was a subject I had to master but who was a master when the subject was women?

I have tried to find the experts. I have read every erotic magazine or book I can get my hands on. I have visited all the local strip clubs featuring both male and female dancers. I have watched their every move. I have watched all the triple X XX movies I can find. I have watched and practiced every thrust and swaying of hips until my body aches from the effort. I have listened to every pickup line.

Just like sports none of these moves came naturally to me. But I spent months in front of mirrors practicing the words and the moves. I bought a rubber doll. I spent days whispering in her ear and working to ensure each thrust would be correct when the time finally arrived for me to loss my virginity. I developed a list of local night clubs and when I finally had the nerve I entered the world of clubbing.

I can still remember that dreadful night when after months of self training I thought I was ready to take control and command any woman I desired. I marched into the night club dressed in the exact outfit the men I had been imitating wore. The sleeves of the silk shirt were tight against my arms. My newly waxed chest was clearly visible to the crowd as I walked into the night club. My leather encased hips swayed to the music as I walked up the bar and ordered my first drink.

I gazed through the crowd like a marine on patrol, but instead of looking for snipers I was looking for the woman who would take my virginity. Finally I saw her sitting and chatting intently with what appeared to be a group of friends. Her long black hair cascaded down the side of her face and came to rest on her firm and impressive breast. I had planned this meeting in my mind for several weeks. I asked the waiter for a glass of what she was drinking.

Our eyes met as I strolled toward her with glass in hand. My confidence and hard on grew as my hips swayed and I got closer to this goddess. I bent down and handed her the glass as I whispered in her ear the introduction I had heard and read in so many of those movies and magazines The line I had practiced on my doll. My mind's eye saw a sweaty but successful night ahead as the woman stood up. Could these words be all that I needed I questioned myself as the she moved seductively closer. He hands reached down to pull me close or so I thought. I felt her fingers and heard laughter as she tugged at my pants and dumped the drink on my raging hard on.

Instantly I reverted from the rich and sophisticated porn star to the poor and shabby Frank Littlejohn. I scurried from the night club cursing everyone as I ran out the door and headed back to my dingy apartment and more hopeless nights.

My imagination helps me make it through the lonely nights. I imagine the various women, big/small, short/tall, blonde/brunette treating me the way I deserve and need to be treated. But my imagination does nothing to change the fact that I am still a loser. My imagination does not change the fact that I still have never touched a real woman in any fashion. After months of self instruction I have learned nothing about women. Some might say I have become antisocial.

At 27 I turned to the local prostitutes and finally have had my first sexual experience. I still shudder at the feeling I got from the prostitutes cold and clammy hands on my balls as her toothless mouth slowly engulfed my manhood. Unsatisfying as it might have been, at least I was no longer a detested virgin. While these women did not laugh, they did not swoon at my superiority. What is wrong? Is it me or is it the women?

I have spent the last several months thinking even harder on these questions. I have been putting my every nonworking hour into resolving my failures. What am I missing? I have studied the experts. I have been studying the men who make their living dominating women. I have been studying the men that women follow with their eyes and fantasized about at night. Slowly I have come to realize that all my efforts at studying the men have been a waste. I have studied the wrong subjects. Now I know I shouldn't have been studying the man. I should study women and understand their wants and their desires and cravings. When I can understand these I will master women.

After this realization I spent the next six years studying psychology at the local University. As usual I mastered the book subjects but continued to strike out with women. They just refused to recognize my superiority to other men.

I remember that night five years ago when the event that would change my life and eventually will lead to me becoming a king if not a god to mankind happened. I met the hypnotist. Up until that night I thought the course on psychological deception was boring. I had been considering leaving psychology and searching out other ways to understand and control women. The professor of the course invited a hypnotist as a guest speaker to show how easily the human mind could be deceived. I watched as one classmate after another performed various acts. One man acted like a chicken He tucked his hands in his armpits and went around waving his elbows and clucking. Another man became a woman. He strutted around the class talking in a high and seductive voice.

I remember raising my hand and volunteering. Back then I was convinced that my mind could not be deceived. Boy was she going to be disappointed or so I thought at the time. I remember her calling me to the front of the class and I remember smirking as she waved the watch in front of me. Back then I knew my mind would not be controlled by this woman.

I remember looking at my watch and wondering how the class could be over? There had been 45 minutes remaining when I had walked up front. I remember my classmates laughing and telling me not to give up my day job as they walked out the door. I remember word for word the conversation with the professor and the hypnotist.

"What are they laughing at and where has the time gone?" I asked the professor and the hypnotist.

"You're an excellent subject; I would love for you to come to the comedy club. I'm sure the audience would appreciate your efforts." The hypnotist said with a sly smile on her face.

"Perhaps this will answer your questions. This is a tape of tonight's class." said the professor as he handed me a tape.

I still don't believe what was on that tape. It couldn't be but there I was singing like I was like a female country singer. Prancing around the class and thrusting my chest out as I my terrible voice bounced off the walls of the class room. I didn't know how my superior mind had been deceived and worst of all not by some equally superior mind but by a woman. The hypnotist was a woman and she had controlled my mind. I needed to know more about the hypnotist. I needed to know how she had controlled me. If a mere woman could master my mind then I could manipulate any mind once I mastered hypnotism.

The next day after class I asked the professor how I could get in contact with the hypnotist The professor gave me the number to the hypnotist and I called her knowing that I must gain her knowledge.

She performed at a local comedy club and agreed to talk with me after one of her shows. I got to the club early and set in wonderment as I watched the hypnotist turn one volunteer after another into raving idiots. I watched less of the idiots and more of the technique she used. Relaxing the mind seemed to be the start, but I still did not fully understand how she could get normal people to behave as they did. I watched the entire show and then walked back stage to her dressing room.

"So Mr. Littlejohn you are interested in the art of hypnotism. May I ask why?" The hypnotist queried me as she let me into her room after the show.

"I wish to understand others minds and though this understanding gain a better understanding of myself." I replied. "I have often wondered how best to influence another."

We continued to chat for an hour as we spared about the ethics of trying to control another person's mind.

Through this discussion I was introduced to the association of amateur hypnotist. A group dedicated to the art of hypnotism. It was through this group that I met various practitioners of the art of hypnotism. I started attending various performances. While most of the people practiced for sport I also met those that helped control the mind and thus the body. I saw people stop smoking, take up athletics, improve various aspects of their miserable life's.

A local club had amateur hypnotist night the first Tuesday of each month. I started attending this club regularly and soon had the table nearest the stage reserved for every Tuesday night. From this vantage point I could closely monitor every motion of a hypnotist. The audience went to enjoy the fun of seeing unpaid idiots attempting to mesmerize the general populace. I went to study techniques and learn from their mistakes. As the audience was laughing at the amateurs feeble attempts to command their subject I learned the proper voice techniques. I learned the eye movements and the hand gestures. I learned to control.

I had watched the various techniques of successful hypnotist. Some hypnotist would use a shining object for their subject to focus on. Others would have their subjects close their eyes and use their imagination to guide them to the spot where there subconscious would take over. Still others seemed to control the subject with the fluctuations in the hypnotist voice. As the subjects mind relaxed the hypnotist would make very subtle suggestions. Once the subject had willingly performed these suggestions the hypnotist would try ever more daring stunts.

I bought every book, CD and training manual there was on the art of hypnosis. I studied as never before. I stood in front of full length mirrors and watched myself swaying a shinny object. I watched my eye movement. I taped my voice and compared the tone to successful hypnotist. I would become the best I promised myself.

Instead of volunteering to be the subject I started volunteering to try to be a hypnotist. My early attempts were failures but with each failure I would return to the books and mirrors and I would learn a little more. My first success was a shy little nymph; I watched her eyes glaze over as my voice took control of her mind. I had her sing. I had her belly dance. The audiences applauded as I had her perform more and more daring feats. I totally controlled her. I almost refused to give up my total control over her but I had more important subjects to control.

I volunteered for every show. Soon I was very confident in my ability to quickly hypnotize a person but there were some subjects I was unable to control even thought I used the exact same words and motions that had been successful on all the previous volunteers. I taped the various shows and studied those that failed to be controlled. What was special about them? Why their minds were not so easily controlled?

Those who could not be controlled had no outward appearance that would suggest they were different than any of the other mass of humanity that performed for the hypnotist. They seemed to follow the shining light. They seemed to listen to the voice and follow the eyes just like every other subject. Yet, they possessed the ability to resist the hypnotist. I needed to understand how they resisted or my plans could be ruined. If I couldn't identify those who would not be controlled then I would never know my chances of controlling a specific person. I also needed to learn this ability to resist hypnotism to guarantee that I would never be controlled again.

These individuals I studied repeatedly and late into the night. I had to understand their differences. I studied their body language, their movements. I considered every outward movement like a dog watching the neighbor's cat for a sign of weakness. They appeared to be ordinary people living ordinary lives. Gradually I realized that their minds were so focused on their lives that they couldn't be tricked into focusing on anything else. If I could focus on one thing as hard as these people focused then maybe I would not be controlled maybe just maybe I could reverse the attempt at hypnosis.

Knowing the required talent was far different than having the talent not to be hypnotized. Weekend after weekend I went to clubs and volunteered to be hypnotized. I tried staying focused on myself. Slowly I learned to control my mind. Finally, no matter what a hypnotist tried my mind could not be controlled. I stood on numerous stages and smirked as one after another hypnotist failed. I was in control. Now I could and would reverse my life.

After years of studying and trying various hypnotic techniques I am finally ready to test my mastery of the subject. Who better to test my skills on then the very person who had shown me the light? I would hypnotize the hypnotist. Only after I had successfully hypnotized her would I allow my plan to move forward.

I returned to the same comedy club where she had been a regular three years ago. There she was still performing the same act. I watched as she mesmerized one audience member and then the next. This time I volunteered knowing very well that she would soon be under my control.

She did not recognize me as I walked onto the stage but I had not forgotten how she had humiliated and controlled me in front of that psychology class. How I had been made to perform. Tonight it would her turn to perform for me.

"You're getting sleepy." she said as she waved the watch in front of my eyes her deep husky voice seemed to sway with each syllable. "Let the movement of the watch relax your body. Follow the movement and listen to my voice."

"You're getting sleepy." I mimicked her voice. "Watch it swaying and listen to my voice as your body relaxes." I stared deeply into her eyes as I said this in a commanding voice only she could hear.

"Follow the movement with your eyes. Your eyelids are getting heavy. Go with your instinct. Your sleepy and want to close your eyes. You will close your eyes when I snap my fingers. " She said snapping her fingers.

I nodded my head pretending to fall asleep as I continued to give commands. "You will follow my commands. You will only be happy when you are following my orders. Do you understand?"

I could sense her confusion as my voice continued to penetrate deeper and deeper into her mind. I almost had her under my control. I smiled as I saw her saw her starting to sweat. She let her will give way to my mastery. She was now mine and my revenge could begin.

"Your mind is now mine." I whispered so only she could hear.
She shook her head slightly as the swing of the watch started to slow down. "I am yours. I live to serve." She whispered back

"You will obey." I continued to whisper. "Tell me to act like a chicken." I commanded her.

"You are a chicken." she repeated the word I had instructed her to say.

To the audience it appeared that I was under her spell as I clucked and strutted like a chicken but I knew she was mine. I knew who was in control.

"Tell me that when you snap fingers, I will be free." I commanded her.

She repeated my order and I stopped acting like a chicken.

I walked over to the hypnotist as I whispered my orders."You will say your goodnights and meet me in your dressing room. I walked off the stage to the audience's applause as she said goodnight and walked backstage.

The audience was unaware of my commands. It appeared to them as if I were the one who was hypnotized. To them I was the one to be laughed at and talked about, but I knew who was in control. I had tested my powers and won. Now I would celebrate my victory.

She was sitting at her makeup table when I got to her dressing room. She stood but said nothing as I entered the room and closed the door. Her eyes were glazed over but I could tell she was still aware of her surroundings. This room would soon be my room of retribution. Starting now I would take revenge not only on the hypnotist but on every woman who had ignored me throughout my life.

"You will obey." I commanded as I stared into her eyes. "You will answer my questions and you will perform as I direct you. You wish only to serve."

"I will obey." she replied in a sultry voice.

"Who is your master? Who is your master and who will you obey?" I asked.

"You are my master and I will obey." she replied.

I stared deeply into her eyes I could see her struggling to gain control but she was losing the battle.

"You will stop fighting me and obey. You will do as I say and my thoughts will be your thoughts. You are glad I am in control." I said forcefully.

I watched her as she continued to struggle for control just like a dog struggling against the chain that anchors it to the ground. I watch as her shoulders slumped and a small tear formed in her eye and rolled down her check. I reached out and wiped the tear from her soft check realizing that the last little struggle for self control was gone. I was in control of her mind.

Till that moment I hadn't thought of what I would do when I had finally conquered the hypnotist. I thought the thrill of knowing she was under my control would be enough but standing there looking at her I realized that I needed more.

My eyes wondered over her. She was dressed in a loose fitting low cut blouse that barely concealed her large breast and a tight skirt that accentuated her wide hips. White nylons and shoes contrasted with the chocolate colored skin of her muscular legs. She was between 35 and 40 years old about 5' 8" with short black hair that framed her face and big brown eyes that seemed to have a mischievous twinkle. I felt a familiar stirring in my pants as my imagination took over.

"What is your name?" I asked as I slowly raised my hand and brushed her left check. She did not back away as I had feared she might.

"Linda." she responded in a trance like voice.

"Linda you are unaware that I am here. You will continue with your normal routine but will answer any question I ask. Each time you hear my voice you will once again be under my control but unaware that I am present." I commanded her.

Her eyes lost the glazed look as she walked back to the mirror and began removing her makeup. Then she walked to the closet and removed here street clothes. My cock started to stiffen at the thought of her changing clothes in front of me.

"Linda do you have a boyfriend?" I asked as she started unbuttoning her blouse.

"No." she responded in her normal voices as she slid the blouse off her shoulders exposing her perfect globes encased in a black see through bra. The perky nipples pointed invitingly in my direction. I unzipped my pants and let my cock enjoy the freedom for which it had been straining.

"Without a boyfriend a lovely woman like you must get lonely." I replied as I started stroking my cock. "Show me what you do when you're lonely." I commanded

I continued to stroke my cock as I watched her slowly slip her bra off. Her fingers slowly pinched her nipples until they were hard. She removed the rest of her clothing as she walked over to the couch and lay down. One hand left her breast and she placed her fingers on her shaven cunt. She began to stroke herself gently at first and then faster as the passion built up in her. She rubbed her clit until I could see dampness.

"Is that all you do? That cannot be enough to satisfy you. I want to see everything." I commanded in a husky voice. Linda looked over the room and spied a wand left over from a magic show sitting besides the table. I watched as she walked over picked up the wand and walked back to the couch. Her cunt was fully exposed to me as she guided the wand into her cunt. She was wet from stroking herself so the wand slid in easily. I watched as she stroked slowly at first and then with more speed. I heard her moan with excitement.

"Linda you will not cum until you please me." I ordered "I want you to perform for me. I want you to please me. You will only be happy once you have pleased me. Bring me the wand and dance for me."

Slowly she removed the wand and got up from the couch. Her hips swaying to unheard music as she placed the wand in my hand. I smelled her scent on in and instinctively sucked on the end tasting her juices on my tongue.

She continued to dance as she backed up against me. Her ass brushing against my stiff cock just like all those women I had watched at the strip clubs and the movies. My cock twitched with each movement of her ass.

"Am I pleasing you?" she asked.

"Yes." was all I could gasp.

Still dancing she moved away. Her soft fingers glazed my cock as she moved away. I watched as she came back towards me swaying her hips and licking her lips. Slowly she reached down and started to stroke my cock. I grew larger at this woman's attention.

I reached up and grabbed one of her breasts and sucked and bit it gently while I pulled on her other nipple with my other hand. She moaned loudly from the intense pleasure as her sensitive nipples became hard in my mouth and hand.

"Am I pleasing my master?" she asked with a smile.

"Very much." I replied.

I moved my hand down to her cunt and stroked her outside lips until she was wet again. Her pussy clamped down as I thrust two fingers in and probed deeper into her wet pussy. She began to squirm against the chair. I released her and ordered her to suck my cock.

She lightly kissed the tip of my cock like a child ticking a lollipop. She ran her tongue up and down the length of my shaft. I reached out and pulled on her hair forcing my manhood deep into her throat.

"Linda, suck it like hard candy." I ordered. I started fucking her mouth. She became aroused as I started grunting. She gently squeezed my balls as they slapped against her cheeks.

I reached down and carried her to the couch with the tip of my cock still in her mouth. I laid her face down on the couch with her knees touching the floor. She groaned slightly as I entered her doggie style. I felt her moistness as my balls kept slapping her ass as I fucked her hard. I continued to pound her pussy with my cock as we both began to moan. Our bodies continued to thrust in rhythm as we neared climax. I felt my cock twitch as I shot hot cum into her dripping pussy.

"May I cum now?" she screamed.

"Cum." I screamed as we climaxed together.

"Is my master happy?" she asked as she turned and licked my cock dry.

"Yes." I replied as I lay next to her and thought about how to use my new power.