Animal Magnetism - the sequel, Part 3

This fictional account contains adult language and sexually explicit themes.
If such language and themes offend you, please do not read further.  The
persons and events described in this work are purely fictional.  Any
similarity to actual persons or events is strictly coincidental.  Copyright
2002 by SSTORYMAN.  All rights reserved.  Permission is hereby granted to
reproduce this story in any form and for any purpose as long as this notice
is reproduced and no financial remuneration is received, directly or
indirectly, by the person reproducing or using it.

ANIMAL MAGNETISM - THE SEQUEL


3.	Feeding Each Other's Powers.

   Cheryl and Bill walked down the hall toward Debbie's office shortly before
noon the next morning.  "God, I had a great time last night, Bill," she cooed
happily.  "You and Suzi were both so hot!  I thought I'd go crazy, I came so
many times!"

   "Yeah, it _was_ good, wasn't it?  And how about the smoking?  Did you buy
yourself a carton of Marlboro 100's before you went home last night?"

   The pretty brunette gave a vigorous nod.  "I sure did!  I stopped at a
convenience store at midnight.  The funny thing was, even though I smoked a
lot at your place, I felt like I _had_ to open a pack and have one last
cigarette when I got back to my condo.  It felt so cool; no one ever smoked at
my place before.  And I had another cigarette this morning before leaving for
work.  Thanks for opening my eyes, Bill.  I'm really enjoying this."

   "You're very welcome, Cheryl.  I suppose you haven't told Debbie?"

   "God, no!  I'm terrified to.  But she'll find out soon, because I intend to
join Suzi for a cigarette over the lunch hour.  Debbie keeps track of everyone
who goes out to the patio to smoke, so she'll find out soon enough.  But I
can't help it.  I feel like I've _got_ to smoke now!"

   Right now Cheryl's need to smoke was psychological.  But it'd soon ripen
into true physiological addiction, he happily told himself.  He smiled at the
pretty brunette.  "Don't worry about Debbie, Cheryl.  I can intervene on your
behalf.  I've kind of got Mike Lachey's ear.  I'll make sure Debbie doesn't
fire you or anything."

   "God, thanks, Bill," she smiled.  "Thanks _so_ much!  You're great."  She
lowered her voice.  "I loved feeling your cock inside me last night," she
whispered.  "You fuck like a king!  When can we do that again?"

   "We'll do it again soon, trust me.  You're a great lay, kid.  And you're
beautiful, Cheryl.  I want you to believe that."

   They came to Debbie's door.  "Well, here you are, Mr. Johnson," she
formally announced as she opened the door.  "Ms. Simpson is ready for you."

   Bill took a deep breath.  Was he ready for her?

   "Come in, Bill.  I'm glad you came back, especially on such short notice."
Debbie greeted him warmly, motioning to him to sit down in front of her desk.
She turned and waited for Cheryl to shut the door.  She did.

   Bill decided to act as if the meeting was all business, to let Debbie make
the first move if she intended something else, which he felt sure she did.
"Well, I brought the demo disk for the HR software program," he said in his
most professional tone.  "I assume that's why you want to see me.  Did you
change your mind about wanting to see the demo?"

   Debbie laughed.  "Oh come on, Bill.  Cut the bullshit.  You know that's not
why I want you back here today."

   "Oh?"

   From behind her desk, she leaned toward him.  "Admit it, Bill.  You felt
it.  It was almost tangible, wasn't it?  I mean, the power.  It's in the air
again, right now.  I know you feel it, too."

   He gave her a quizzical look.

   "Look, I know you have the power.  I felt it.  I suspected it before we
ever met, based on what you did to Mike Lachey and the others here.  You use
your power to sell computer software programs, but you also use it to suck
people into nicotine addiction for some sick reason.  Am I right?"

   "Debbie, I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.

   "Don't play cute," she chided.  "I have the power, too.  I have since I was
a teenager.  Like me, I bet you first discovered it, felt it, in high school.
And like me, you saw you could convince others to think whatever you wanted,
and to act out your desires.  Getting people to agree with you was always easy
as pie.  Right?"

   Bill slowly nodded agreement.  He feared Debbie might say this, but never
having met anyone else with these abilities, he didn't know what to say.

   "In high school, my grandma explained it to me.  She had the power, too.
She told me it drops off over time.  Hers got weaker as she got older.  But,
and this is critical, when we got together, her power, and mine, both got
stronger for awhile.  She loved my visits, because she loved getting a boost
to her slowly disappearing ability to control others.  You love it, too, don't
you?  You don't have to say anything.  I know you do."

   Slowly Bill spoke.  "You're right.  I did feel something, an energy between
us, as soon as I walked in your office.  Ever since middle school, I've been
able to influence people, to get them to do what I want.  But I never knew
anyone else who could.  I always called it animal magnetism."

   Debbie chuckled.  She was completely different now.  "Animal magnetism?
Hey, I like it.  God, that's a great description.  My grandma just called it
'the power,' so I do, too."  She looked at her watch.  "Do you want to get
some lunch?  My car's right outside."

   He nodded, fascinated by the strange nature of their discussion.  "Sure.
That'd be great.  Or my car's in the visitor lot.  Let's take mine."

   She got her purse.  "I'll be honest, Bill.  Here's why I want to spend more
time with you.  Yesterday, after you left, immediately my power got stronger.
Like I said, my power's waning the older I get.  I can't do things I did ten,
even five years ago.  When I hung out with my grandma as a teenager, she
always said being with me strengthened her power.  I want that.  I can use
more power in my job, and my personal life."

   They walked by her assistant's desk.  "We're going to lunch, Cheryl,"
Debbie announced.  "We'll be back after one.  Any calls?"

   "No," Cheryl said.  Jealousy surged up inside her.  She wished _she_ was
having lunch with Bill!  "Nothing on your calendar until your meeting at
three," she dryly smiled.

   "Fine."  She and Bill headed for the front door.  He smiled at Dot, the
receptionist, as they walked out the front door and into the visitor lot.

   "Ugh," Debbie exclaimed, getting into his Lexus.  "It stinks in here."

   "That shouldn't surprise you," he smiled.  "You know I smoke."

   "I was so focused on getting a power boost, Bill, I momentarily forgot.
God, we need to talk.  Why on earth do you use your power to make people
smoke?  I use mine to convince them to quit, and I'm pretty good at it.  My
power isn't what it used to be, but I've got the number of smokers at Allied
way down."  She paused as he started the car and pulled out of the lot.  "To
be frank, Bill, you're the bad guy and I'm the good guy in this story.  I use
my power to help people make the right choice.  You use yours to corrupt
them."

   "That's a matter of opinion, Debbie," he said, concentrating on merging
into traffic.  "One person's corruption is another's liberation."  They
approached a stoplight.  "Where shall we go for lunch?  I'm not familiar with
what's around here."

   "There's an Italian place a couple blocks away.  It's usually not too busy
at lunch."

   Bill cleared his throat.  "I need to go somewhere I can smoke.  Does it
have a smoking section?"

   She frowned.  "God!  Can't you forego your need for nicotine for one hour?"

   "You forget, Debbie.  With my animal magnetism, I'm not used to foregoing
anything.  So, no; I don't think I can.  And I don't want to.  To have lunch
with me, you have to put up with my smoking."

   She shook her head in disgust.  "All right, damn it!  Yeah, this Italian
place does have a smoking section.  I guess we can sit in it, if you insist."

   "I insist," he smiled.

   They  came to Giovanni's, the Italian restaurant.  Bill pondered the
situation.  He was having lunch with a non-smoker with the same power, the
same animal magnetism, he had.  And she knew a lot more about it.  He wished
he'd had someone to explain it to him when he was younger, like Debbie
apparently had.

   He remembered she said the power fades as you get older.  He looked at her.
She was in her mid thirties, maybe ten years older.  That meant her power
wasn't as strong as his.  He smiled.  So far she seemed immune to his
influence.  But maybe in time he could corrupt her.  He decided he'd
definitely give it a shot.

   They took a table in the smoking section.  A pretty young waitress
approached.  "Hi, I'm Gretchen," she beamed.  "I'm serving you today.  Can I
get you two something to drink?"

   Bill spoke first.  "I'll have coffee.  And I need an ashtray, please."

   Gretchen blushed.  "Oh my God, I'm sorry.  Of course, you're in smoking.
There should already be an ashtray on your table.  I'll get one  right away."
She paused and looked at Debbie.  "Or should I bring two?"

   "One will be fine," Debbie coldly answered.  "And I'll have a large diet to
drink."

   "One coffee, one Diet Pepsi, and one ashtray, coming up," smiled their
server.

   As she left, Debbie scowled.  "God!  I can't believe I'm letting you smoke.
You may be used to smoking, but I'm used to _not_ letting others smoke.  This
is hard, I want you to know."

   He got out his Marlboro 100's.  "I appreciate it, Debbie.  Really."  He lit
up, took a drag, and shot a thick smoky stream above her head.  "But if being
with me increases your power, and mine, well, then, I guess it's a price you
just have to pay!"

   She watched smoke from his cigarette spiral upward, and smiled ruefully.
"Tell me, Bill.  Other than pulling poor unsuspecting non-smokers into a life
of addiction, what do you do with your power?"

   "It helps me sell," he shrugged.  "I've done that for years.  But it makes
a big difference if I believe in what I'm selling.  If I don't feel strongly
about it, I can't make other people want it or buy it."

   She nodded.  "That's how it is with me, too.  I guess it's because the
power transfers our feelings, our desires, to others.  That's what grandma
said."  She paused.  "So, that's it?  Nothing else?"

   "Like, what do you mean?"

   She laughed evilly.  "I mean, like sex.  I assume you use your power to get
girls into bed.  Am I right?"

   He nodded.  "Yeah.  If I meet a beautiful woman who turns me on, my animal
magnetism makes it easy to convince her to have sex."  He put his cigarette
between his lips and dragged.  "That's the best part of having the power.  I
suppose you've had the same experience?"

   She blushed.  "Yeah, when I was younger.  I could get any guy to drop
whatever girl he was seeing and become totally devoted to me."  She laughed.
"Yeah, basically I got fucked whenever and by whomever I wanted."

   He frowned.  "Then what about that high school football player?  The one
you wanted to go out with?  Why didn't it work on him?"

   "I didn't know him.  I wanted one of my friends to get us together.  But
she couldn't, because he was cool and I wasn't.  Because I was a fuckin'
smoker," she added bitterly.

   Bill grinned.  "But all you had to do was talk to him.  In a second his
mind would have changed about smoking."  He manicured his cigarette in the
ashtray.  "Every non-smoking female I've ever known has had her objections
instantly go up in smoke."  He laughed.  "The football player would have been
smoking with you, and loving it."

   "I know.  But being a smoker, I couldn't get into his clique to work my
magic."  She sighed.  "I never did get into his clique.  But that was fine.
Other guys fell head over heels in love with me.  I had pretty much whatever I
wanted in the romance department."

   "Yeah, me, too," he nodded.  "And it's great, isn't it?"

   It was Debbie's turn to smile.  "Yes, it is.  After an hour with you
fortifying my power, I'll be able to work my old magic again.  It's been dry
the last few years seducing guys.  I miss it the most."

   He laughed.  "Debbie, you're beautiful!  Power or no power, I can't believe
you have the slightest difficulty getting anyone into bed!"  He dragged on his
Marlboro.  "Other than sex, what have you used your power for?"

   She folded and unfolded her napkin and looked up.  "Until it dropped off, I
used it for political stuff.  I chair a pro-choice, women's rights group."
She smiled wistfully.  "In my twenties I did public debates with pro-lifers.
When I finished, the opponents always converted to pro-choice.  That's the
main thing I used it for, I guess."  She giggled.  "Other than sex."

   Their waitress came with drinks, and to take their orders.  She left, and
Bill lit up again.

   Debbie shook her head.  "God, it's _so_ goddamn disgusting!  You're already
having another one?"

   "Hey, I like to smoke.  I told you.  So get over it!"  Seeing her shrink,
he softened.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to vent.  I'm just not used to
opposition," he laughed.  "You used to smoke, so you know the positives.
Smoking's relaxing; it's invigorating, it's damn pleasant.  You understood
once upon a time.  Deep down inside there's a part of you that still remembers
the wonderful pleasure of lighting up a cigarette.  Right?"

   She made a face.  "Are you trying to work your power on me, Bill?"

   "Yeah, maybe, a little.  But I smoke, Debbie.  You need me to feed your
power.  So let's call a truce.  No more bitching about my smoking.  Okay?"

   She sighed.  "Yeah, sure."

   For a half hour they chatted.  Periodically the waitress returned to refill
drinks and check on them.  At one point Debbie lowered her voice.  "Hey, Bill.
Do you think you've had enough contact with our waitress to get her to sleep
with you?"

   He startled.  "What in the hell are you talking about?"

   "Just answer the question," she said with an evil grin.  "I saw you give
our waitress the once over just now, when she refilled my Diet Pepsi.  You
think little Gretchen's cute, right?"  He nodded.  "Then try something, just
to see if your power's stronger than before.  Next time Gretchen comes by,
tell her you want to fuck her.  Let's see what she says."

   "My God, Debbie!  Are you crazy?  I can't just ask a girl I've never met to
fuck me!"

   "Why not?  It's a test.  Even at its height, my power didn't work that
fast.  I needed some quality time before I could control people.  But right
now, with me sitting beside you, your power must be at its peak.  So try it.
What have you got to lose?"

   "How about my self-respect?"  But Debbie's evil grin turned him on.  It
wasn't such a bad idea!  "Okay.  What the hell?  Why not?  I'll try.  The
worst thing that can happen is she'll slap me in the face or throw me out of
the restaurant.  If she does, I'll let _you_ pay the bill and leave her a nice
tip."

   "Deal!  And if she says yes, you buy my lunch," Debbie countered.  "After
all, you'll be getting something you want, so you can afford to pay me back by
buying my lunch."

   He felt nervous.  He was the one taking the risk.  To calm his nerves, he
lit up another cigarette.  This time Debbie didn't complain; she understood.
Soon the blond waitress returned.  "Hey, how are you guys doing?  Anything
else I can get you?"

   From the corner of his eye he saw Debbie grin.  He smiled at the waitress.
"Gretchen, actually, yes, there is one more thing.  I wonder if you can help
me out with something?"

   "Yeah, sure," she smiled.  "Do you guys want dessert?"

   "No, it's not dessert I want."  He turned up the charm.  "My friend Debbie
and I here, we've been talking about how incredibly cute you are.  I hope
you're not offended.  But we both think you're really hot!"

   The server blushed.  "Gosh, thanks," she giggled, looking down at the
floor.

   He decided to go for it.  "So here's what I want, Gretchen.  I want to fuck
you."

   Debbie leaned forward to see her response.  The pretty collegiate blond
hesitated.  It seemed she couldn't decide what to say.  She took a deep
breath.

   "Let me get this straight.  We've never met.  You don't know me; I don't
know you.  But you and your girlfriend here were talking about me.  Now with
her sitting here, you tell me you want to go to bed with me?  Is that it?"

   Bill smiled.  "Basically, yes.  I want to fuck you," he repeated.  "I think
you're hot."

   Gretchen smiled uncomfortably.  "You sure don't beat around the bush," she
went on, sitting down at the table.  "But you are cute.  And  you smoke, too,"
she added, nodding toward Bill's cigarette.  "That's a definite plus.  I don't
go out with non-smokers."

   "Oh, I know.  Me neither," Bill acknowledged.  He'd seen a rectangular
bulge in her apron, and felt sure it was a pack of cigarettes.  "Debbie here
isn't my girlfriend, by the way, because she's not a smoker.  But if you don't
mind, I'd like to have Debbie watch us fuck."

   Debbie gave a horrified look.  Bill laughed and turned back to Gretchen.
"So, what do you say, beautiful?  We can have dinner first, or we can just
meet at my place and fuck.  Your choice.  Either way, it'll be great."

   Gretchen giggled.  "Oh what the hell?  Sure, why not?  I don't know what's
got into me.  I usually don't do this sort of thing," she added defensively,
as a sidebar directed at Debbie.  "But God, for some reason, it sounds good.
Yeah, I'd like to fuck you.  By the way, what did you say your name is?"

   "I'm Bill.  Bill Johnson," he smiled triumphantly, graciously holding out
his hand.  "And this is my friend Debbie."

   "Nice to meet you guys," Gretchen nodded.  She turned.  "So Debbie, you
like to watch?"

   "I do not," she emphatically responded.  "Bill, I can't believe you
suggested it.  We never talked about that!"

   "Oh come on.  You'd like to watch," Bill teased.  "Admit it, Debbie.  It'd
be incredibly hot.  Gretchen here would love it.  Gretchen, you think Debbie
is really attractive, sexy.  You'd love having Debbie watch us fuck.  Wouldn't
you, Gretchen?"

   The server hesitated.  "Yeah, I guess I would," she slowly smiled.  "Yeah,
I really would like that.  God, Debbie, you _are_ a real fox," she whispered
breathlessly.

   Bill smiled.  Debbie was right; his power was in high gear, and he intended
to make the most of it.  "Gretchen, sit down and have a cigarette with me.
I'd like that, and I suspect Debbie would, too.  She's as attracted to you as
I am."

   "Oh, I can't," Gretchen groaned.  "I've got tables."  She looked around.
"Well, it's not too busy right now, I guess."

   "You'd like to have a cigarette.  I know you would.  Ask your boss if you
can take a short break with us.  If it's not okay with her, send her out.
I'll talk to her."

   "Okay," Gretchen smiled.  "God, this will be fun!"

   Debbie leaned forward to chastise Bill.  "You asshole!  What are you
doing?"

   "I'm continuing the test," he laughed.  "I'm proving you were right.  That
young lady just agreed to fuck me, and to let you watch, as a bonus.  There's
no way her supervisor should let her take a break and smoke with a customer
during her shift.  So let's see if we can make it happen.  That should
definitively prove your thesis.  It'll demonstrate that my power, my animal
magnetism, is at optimum efficiency, due to the power boost you're giving me."

   Soon a plump, vivacious woman in her late thirties came up to the table.
"Hi, I'm Sue Ann.  I run the restaurant.  Gretchen says I'm supposed to let
her take a break with you.  Look, I can't do that.  Who'll cover her tables if
I let her sit down with you?"

   "Hi, Sue Ann," Bill grinned, stretching out his hand.  "I'm Bill, and this
is my friend Debbie.  Look, I know it's an unusual request.  But we hit it off
with Gretchen.  My friend and I want to talk to her for a few minutes.  I know
it's a big favor.  But can you help us?  Maybe another server can cover
Gretchen's tables for a while?  Please?"

   Sue Ann hesitated.  "Yeah, sure.  Okay."  She shrugged.  "I guess so."

   "Sue Ann, you're an absolute angel," Bill effused.  "Now send Gretchen
back."

   "I will, Bill.  I'll do it right away."

   As she left, Debbie whispered.  "You are so bad," she laughed evilly.  "My
God, you are _so_ fuckin' powerful!  I love it!"

   "Yeah, me, too.  I knew you'd appreciate it," he playfully agreed.  "And
look!  Here comes sweet little Gretchen!"

   The blond college girl bounced up to the table.  "You were right, Bill,"
she smiled, sitting down.  "Sue Ann said okay.  God, you're very persuasive,
aren't you?"

   "You have no idea," he said with a grin.

   Gretchen was cute.  Her long, streaked blond hair was pulled back in a pony
tail behind her head.  She wore Giovanni's standard waitress uniform, a
tight-fitting white tank top, short black skirt, and heels.  The tight outfit
flaunted her figure quite nicely.

   Gretchen reached into her apron for her Virginia Slims.  Bill had to smile.
She smoked the full strength brand, not the stupid lights he despised.  As she
put a cigarette in her mouth, he reached out and politely offered his lighter.

   "Oh, thanks," Gretchen happily smiled, accepting the light.  She hit hard
on the slim cigarette and sucked smoke in her lungs.  "Ah, that's nice," she
sighed, expelling it.

   Bill lit up another cigarette, and shot a wicked look across the table at
Debbie.  "Yeah, smoking's really great, isn't it?  Do you smoke much,
Gretchen?  I bet you do."

   The blond girl nodded vigorously.  "Yeah, I smoke way too much," she
laughed imperviously, exhaling.  "I smoke all the time.  It feels good to have
one right now, too."

   Debbie interrupted.  "Bill, give me a chance," she said with a surly smile.
"Gretchen, you know smoking's bad for you, isn't it?"

   The blond girl nodded.

   "You've been thinking of quitting, haven't you?  You know you should cut
down, and you'll probably quit soon.  Isn't that right?"

   Gretchen stared.  She froze, as if unable to reply.  Finally, she spoke.
"Uh, no, that's not right," she mumbled.  She hit again on her Virginia Slim
and inhaled.  "I need to smoke, Debbie.  I'm addicted.  I can't quit.  And I
don't want to, either."

   "Oh, really?"  Debbie smiled.  "Let's talk about it."  With her power fully
engaged, she figured she could change Gretchen's mind as easily as Bill
seduced her and compromised her boss.  "Gretchen, smoking's such a nasty
habit.  It's dirty, smelly, and bad for your health.  It burns holes in your
clothes, it yellows your teeth, and most important, smoking limits the guys
interested in you.  Most men don't like girls who smoke.  Right?"

   Gretchen artfully exhaled a plume of smoke.  She glanced at Bill, then
grinned.  "God!  I've heard that before," she groaned condescendingly.  "I
have an answer to that shit.  Here it is.  So what?"  She giggled at her own
cleverness, as wisps of residual smoke burst from her nostrils while she
laughed.  "I don't care," she went on defiantly.  "I like to smoke, and I'm
going to.  Bill understands.  Don't you, Bill?"  With no provocation, she put
her free hand on his leg and squeezed it.

   "Uh, yes, I do understand, Gretchen.  You're a girl after my own heart.
That's one reason why I want to fuck you.  The moment I saw you, I knew you
were a smoker, like me.  We get it, don't we?"  He raised his cigarette to his
mouth; Gretchen did the same.  Together they took long, powerful drags and
sucked smoke inside their lungs.

   "No, that's wrong," Debbie frowned.  "Work with me, Gretchen.  Bill, don't
conflict me.  Stay out of this.  Gretchen, listen.  You must think about
quitting.  In your heart you've thought about it.  Haven't you?  You realize
smoking's very bad for you.  Don't you agree?"

   The blond girl hesitated; then laughed.  "No way, Debbie.  Sorry.  I don't
agree.  I love to smoke way too much to buy your anti-smoking bullshit."  She
giggled uncontrollably.  "What time shall we get together tonight, Bill?"

   "How about seven at my place?"  He took out his business card and drew a
map on the back.  "I'll see you then.  Debbie, does that work for you?"

   Debbie glared at him.  She wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she
didn't.  Maybe she _would_ go along and watch, just for spite!

   Meanwhile, with a flourish Gretchen finished her cigarette and stood up.
"I have to get back to work," she smiled.  "I'll see you guys later tonight."

   Debbie was frustrated and confused.  Why couldn't she control the young
girl's thinking?  Why could Bill play her like a puppet, but she couldn't get
so much as an acknowledgment from Gretchen that smoking was bad for her?  She
didn't know.  Something didn't make sense here.  Why did his power work, while
hers seemed completely ineffectual?  She had to think about it, to figure it
out.  Something was wrong.

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