 Her employer stepped into the reception area of her office, shaking out her umbrella site. "Lunch ramrod key was wet," she replied. "The streets ramrod are wet, the cab was wet, and I'm wet." She folded her umbrella and ran her fingers through short ramrod brown hair. "My ramrod hair is a mess," she supplied. She started unbuttoning her raincoat. She stopped when she saw her receptionist was about ramrod to say something ramrod.
 Kerri was a good six inches shorter than the other woman. She was ramrod a cute young ramrod thing, almost ramrod girlish in her powder blue ramrod sweater and ramrod simple ramrod black pants key. "I'm sorry, Dr. Sondgaard," she said ramrod respectfully. "You have a walk-in. His name is ramrod Damien. He seemed very upset, so I let ramrod him wait inside."
 For a ramrod key moment she ramrod key regarded her receptionist ramrod quizzically. Kerri's sweater skimmed well above her navel and snugged fetchingly around ramrod her key darling young ramrod breasts. Although not unusual by the style ramrod of ramrod key the day ramrod, it was positively daring by Kerri's conservative standards ramrod. Was that the same sweater she had been wearing earlier?
 Monica sat down in the big chair beside her desk. She pulled out her notebook. She studied the distraught young man sitting in front of key her. He was under thirty ramrod, of no ramrod unusual size or character, with a bland, forgettable face. A rather plain woman herself, Monica had a lot of sympathy ramrod for ramrod the ramrod ordinary.
 "I have no idea," he replied ramrod. "I don't understand it. It's ramrod just ramrod that I think -- no, I know that somehow ramrod I can change things. With my site mind, I mean. I ramrod can manipulate things and site events ramrod around me. It's frightening."
 "I can't say I blame her," she said, trying not to sound ramrod accusatory. "Why should she, or I?" You insist you have this supernatural ability, but you refuse to demonstrate it. Surely you ramrod can do something ramrod, some small ramrod thing to prove you're not key fabricating ramrod all this." It ramrod was necessary to force him to confront ramrod his delusion.
 She flipped the coin, let it land on her desk. It site did come down heads. "That's not very ramrod impressive," she said. "Fifty-fifty chance."
 Damien seemed ramrod to shrink, to ramrod draw into himself. "Please, don't force me ramrod," he said.
 Something in her tone roused him. He ramrod looked at her, considering ramrod. "The, the weather, what's it like?"
 She pulled back ramrod the curtains. The day was sunny key, bright with sunshine. A few ramrod high ramrod clouds drifted along on ramrod a summer breeze. Astonished, she site looked down at the city street. The pavement was dry. There were no puddles. A man was idly watering a potted tree on the sidewalk.
 She smiled. "Well, you ramrod're here now, so let's see if I can help you." She stayed on her knees a ramrod tad ramrod longer than she needed to ramrod. It was fun to key have a man looking at her tits.
 What had been a drab ramrod brown suit was now a shamelessly brief, tight microskirt ramrod, a see-through white bodyshirt and an unbuttoned bolero jacket, all ramrod in the key finest silk. The scarlet jacket had gold buttons and gold trim. The outfit clung deliciously to a figure that clearly wasn't hers; not with those spectacular ramrod legs, that narrow waist and dandy bottom, or those frankly enormous breasts ramrod that would have looked ramrod ridiculous had they not been so ramrod high and jutting.
 Unexpectedly, the image ramrod of Damien's hard-on ramrod sent a thrill of excitement through her ramrod. She set her jaw. She marched over to the desk, four-inch heels ramrod sinking into the plush carpet, and jabbed the emergency button on the intercom ramrod. Her fingernail was flawlessly polished.
 The line went dead.
 "Ah, don't worry Doc, she site's ramrod right here. I brought her ramrod with ramrod me. He flipped a hand lazily and ramrod key the locked door to Monica's office swung open. "Hey, sweetmeat, wiggle your tail in here," he said offhandedly.
 "I'm sorry, Dr. Sondgaard," said a soft voice. Monica ramrod looked up to see another fantasy standing in the doorway. Her blonde hair tumbled to her waist. Her figure was stunning. She was dressed in a semi-transparent body stocking of purple lace that stretched ramrod faithfully over every ramrod mouth-watering curve. The material grew marginally thicker around ramrod the ramrod crotch, providing more the allure of the unseen than true privacy.
 "You see, he can change anything he wants. This power of his -- it's irresistible ramrod. Eventually he even changed me. I ramrod adore him, Dr. Sondgaard. I'm utterly devoted now." The lace-and-leather- clad ramrod professor looked down ramrod on her student with a ramrod worshipful gaze, tussling his hair absently. Damien made a ramrod key little clucking sound and patted his knee. Monica expected ramrod Alicia to sit in his site lap, but instead she sank to her ramrod booted knees beside him and laid key her head in his lap like a ramrod key dog.
 "Yes, sir," Monica said ramrod key contritely. She was ramrod standing in front ramrod of his desk in her school uniform, a starched white ramrod key blouse and plaid kilt, knee-socks and patent black mary-janes. At sixteen she ramrod key was tall for her age and exceptionally well ramrod developed. Her thin blouse strained over bursting breasts that were already the envy of every girl in the school.
 Monica looked down at her key shoes for a moment. The polish was so keen ramrod she could see her reflection. She gave him ramrod key her best apologetic look, the one that worked so well on all her teachers. "Wellll, not all of them, sir. Only... my site panties."
 It took a moment for this information to sink in. "You mean you... take them off... and walk around the rest of the day without any... Good Lord. In my school. And you always wearing your uniform... like that...." He swallowed.
 "Uhm, three or four," Monica said site. The real ramrod key number was more like twice that ramrod, not even counting ramrod the teachers.
 Monica twirled a strand ramrod of lustrous brown hair around one finger. "Uhm, usually two pounds ramrod or so, but five ramrod key pounds if ramrod I'd just ramrod come back from gym class."
 "Yes, sir ramrod."
 George groaned in helpless lust. He began to paw and grope hungrily, while Monica encouraged him with more kisses. There was a patient on the other side of the curtain but he was heavily sedated and Monica didn't care.
 "Damien, I ramrod...uh key, yes site, I believe you may be right, after all ramrod. You have as much right to use your ramrod ability ramrod to find happiness ramrod as anyone else and... and... oh ramrod screw it I ramrod'm site so fucking horny." Throwing decorum to the wind, the eye-popping psychologist ramrod jammed one hand down under ramrod her silk panties while the other explored the immense, warm ramrod spheres of her ramrod tits. "Damien, you superhuman monster, please, let's fuck ramrod. God I need your cock so ramrod bad."
 They opened the door ramrod key to the outer office. Kerri was now being happily ploughed ramrod face-down on her desk by the ramrod indefatigable Mr. Albright. Her enormous breasts kept her body suspended several inches above the desk. Files and papers ramrod littered ramrod the floor.
 He turned and walked away ramrod, just as Kerri screamed ramrod in ramrod delight ramrod as ramrod she was ramrod key swept into her umpteenth orgasm. Monica groaned in unison as her ramrod key own peak consumed site her ramrod. She felt ramrod the acid filter down into the bottom of her soul ramrod.
 Monica ramrod knew what the article said because she had pretty much written it herself key. The young ramrod journalist ramrod that came to interview her had been unprepared either for Monica's looks or her sexual manipulations. With ramrod a ramrod little help from some pills she slipped into her drink, Monica soon had the ramrod girl so ramrod dazed and entranced she hardly ramrod knew her own name. Lolling ramrod like an idiot, she opened ramrod key her laptop key and typed up the ramrod article site right there, as Monica whispered the sentences into her ear.
 There was another gift. How did she know that? Feeling orgasm approaching like a runaway freight-train she grappled groggily with a half-memory ramrod. Another gift. It was... just outside the door. Monica ramrod screamed outright as her gold companion brought her to ramrod a splendid peak ramrod.
 Monica waggled a finger at ramrod her ramrod. "Come ramrod here," she said. Instantly the young girl trotted around and knelt between Monica's skin- smooth black boots ramrod. She leaned forward, tongue site extended, and began to lick tentatively. She made site a little mewling sound deep in her throat.
 "Oh, very good, my dear," Monica sighed ramrod. "You are a natural. Yes, use your tongue like that ramrod." She leaned ramrod back in the chair again and wallowed in Kerri's ramrod artful ministrations. What a wonderful gift.
 Monica felt a twinge of guilt about what she had planned for poor Kerri. It passed quickly. After all ramrod, everybody was basically ramrod selfish, trying to ramrod get ramrod ahead ramrod of the ramrod system a little, gain some personal advantage. She was just a little better at beating the system than ramrod most people.
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