To Shape One's Life - 1

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This was written about ten years ago. The idea was to answer the question,
"What would you do if you could do absolutely anything?"
It's presented here in sections. All 4 parts are now posted

TO SHAPE ONE'S LIFE
Part 1 of 4
Prelude and Chapter One: Showtime.

by Jeffrey M. Mahr

You see things; and you say "Why?"
But I dream things that never were;
and I say "Why not?"

-- George Bernard Shaw


      "Sir? Professor Boatman?" A quavering voice was joined by a hand up and waving amongst the blurred mass of bubble gum popping, yawning, freshmen.

      "Yes?" 

      "Is this going to be on the final exam sir?"

      "What's your name son?" Richard wearily responded.

      "Uh, Al. Al Foster, sir."

      "Well Mr. Foster, what have we just been talking about?"

      "Uh, the definition of reality?"

      "Very good Mr. Foster. Now, can you tell me what we've arrived at as our definition of reality?"

      Silence.

      "Mrs. Foster, are you still out there?"

      "Uh, yes sir. I mean no sir. I mean yes I'm still here sir and no I can't say what we've defined reality as. We just talked about several different definitions of reality without coming to any final agreement."

      "Very good Mr. Foster. Take a bow. As usual you have confirmed my expectations of reality. The person most likely to give the correct answer on an exam is the one who asks if it will be on the exam. Now, for the rest of you." He turned and glared at the other two hundred plus students, "Yes, it will be on the exam. Everything we've covered will be on the exam. Are there
any other questions?" Foot tapping impatiently he waited several seconds.
"No? Dismissed." He turned his back on the hall, gathered his lecture notes and frustratedly stuffed them into his briefcase. Beyond a doubt, Intro. courses were the dullest courses imaginable, especially for the teacher. Of all the teaching staff of the Clarke University Psychology Department only Josef Rimsky and he had been routinely relegated to the pits of Into. to Psychology and, god forbid, Josef seemed to like it.

      A cold drizzle permeated his clothing as he trudged back to his office glowering at those who had the audacity to greet him. Watching a group, probably pledges from one of the local fraternities, playing touch football in the cold rain with some completely shirtless and the remainder in sopping wet orange tee shirts while another, more appropriately dressed group, cheered them on Richard wondered once again about the intellectual quality of the student body. He had almost made it to his office without incident when a missed football landed in a nearby puddle completing the drenching the rain had started. If only his research would pan out, then the weather, like everything else would be his to control.

      Grumbling, he made it to his cubbyhole of an office without further incident only to find another "love note" from Ivan Issaksen. The aging Department Chairman, doddering old fool was closer to Richard's preferred description, wanted him to attend another on of his damned committees, this time for curriculum development. "Damn, when will he do some of the work they pay him to do instead of dumping it off on others."

      "You must be talking about our beloved Department Chairman." Richard jerked his head up to see Josef standing by his partially open office door, his smile disarming as ever.

      "Close the damn door and yes." Richard grumped as Josef slipped into the cramped office and shut the door behind himself.

      "What does he want this time? Another committee? Another course? Another rejection on your research proposal? All of the above? None of the above? Wait, be still my heart, he's had an original thought and you're in shock." Richard slid a pile of papers off the only other chair in the office and onto the floor, then brushed off the seat before slouching into it.
 
      "No originality there," Richard waved the offending memo in the air, "just another committee. This time it's curriculum development." God I hate having other people tell me what to teach. It's an insult to the academic tradition."

      "Well, you know it's just that he has no backbone. He's afraid of Dean Johnson, he's afraid of President Schrader, and he's afraid the Board of Directors will make him retire. He's been here so long I doubt he'd know what to do if he wasn't here. You know, some of the older faculty talk about how he was a real 'firebrand,' as they call it, when he was younger."

      "I don't know. That seems to be an oversimplification." Richard tossed the memo into his circular file and listlessly leafed through some of the many papers on his desk. "It's like he's intentionally making so much busy work for me that I can't complete my research."

      "Well, I guess there may be some pressure on him from the Board. After all, you've not exactly endeared yourself to them with your suggestions regarding teaching vs. research."

      "Otherwise translated as 'They think my research is a crock' right?"
 
      Josef nodded. "Yes, but it's not their doubts about your research, any publication is good as far as they're concerned, but your presentation. What was the phrase you used? 'Pusillanimous polypragmatic political puppets?'"

      Richard nodded blushing.

      "Those that knew what you were saying were insulted as were those who were smart enough to use, or have someone else use, a dictionary to explain it." Josef sneered. "Lucky for you that won't be more than two or three of that dirty dozen."

      Richard's eyes were downcast. "I know, but they kept finding ways to keep me from finishing my research. I just got disgusted with all their game playing."

      "Tell you what," Richard rubbed his chin briefly considering. "If it will help, I'm willing to offer myself as a guinea pig as long as the process is not too intrusive."

      "Thanks Josef, but at this point the bigger issue seems to be getting to a final product that can be tested." Richard paused for a moment. "Say, if you really want to help me you could go to these damn committee meetings for me."

      "Sorry Richard, no can do. I've already been put on that same committee. I think it's one of the penalties of being a junior member of the faculty."

***************

      "As you all know I object to the very concept of a committee mandating curriculum content, but if this committee has to create standards for the various curricula we teach why the hell don't we use the material already being used by the people already teaching the courses?" Josef was frantically trying to signal Richard to be quiet. The only outcome of his comments was going to be to anger the other, more senior committee members and if he kept it up it was likely to finally cost him the tenure for which he was currently eligible.

      "Thank you for your suggestion Dr. Boatman." Dr. Issaksen's voice was strained as he attempted to maintain his composure. "Please remember that the purpose of this committee is to assure that minimum standards are met. To do that we would first have to determine what those standards are, and to do that we would first need to review the field to see what others feel is important. Otherwise we would be abrogating our responsibility to assure quality and merely serving as a 'rubber stamp' for what might be less than appropriate for our students' needs." Josef silently groaned and cradled his head in his hands.

***************

      "Richard, I like you and would like to keep you as a friend, but you've got to learn to shut up." After almost an hour of discussion Josef was getting exasperated. "Think of it from the point of view of Argyris." Richard gave a blank look.

      "Sorry, I forgot myself for a moment. He's from my area of specialization, industrial and organizational psychology." Richard gathered his thoughts before continuing. "Let's see, it was Chris Argyris, ...of Harvard. He wrote an article in the Public Administration Review in 1980, Spring or Summer I think." Richard began to fidget and Josef hastily continued.

      "It was called 'Making the Undiscussable and its Undiscussability Discussable.' I loved that title. I wish I'd thought of it for an article of my own. Anyway, his thesis was that society trains people to recognize and respond to threatening issues by, I think his words were 'easing in,' 'appropriately cover,' or by 'being civilized.' In effect, everyone in that committee meeting except you knew that you were right and would eventually have gotten to the point of confirming the appropriateness of the various curricula after first demonstrating that they were completely impartial and had carefully reviewed all the options. For god sake Richard, no one in that room had any interest in telling another faculty member...a peer...that they had to change what they were teaching. Now they've got to correct at least one faculty member just to retain the appearance of impartiality, all because you couldn't keep quiet. Knowing Issaksen it will probably be you."

      "Richard, thank you for the lecture, but the key points here are," he ticked his points of on his fingers," one, I'm right, and two, this entire process is unnecessary."

      "Of course it's unnecessary in terms of the expectation that anything will change. It's value is as a political process designed to," Richard's fingers came up also, "one, keep the Board of Directors happy, two, keep the accreditation association happy, three, make the parents who pay to send their budding young Einsteins to us in hopes they'll learn something useful like how to get and keep a job happy, and finally, to make the alumni who contribute to our endowment happy when they feel they are giving their money to a worthy school." Josef smiled at Richard and gestured at the hands still held up. "Four fingers beats two fingers, I win."

      "Oh all right." Richard sighed. "I'll try to be more tactful, but I really hate it when we have to bend and play with reality in order to accommodate the unreasonable expectations of others. What is should be immutable."

      "Thank you, I'd miss having you to argue with, but wait a minute, isn't that last statement diametrically opposed to what you've been saying with regard to your research? Is it possible that you don't believe the principles you've been espousing?" Richard agreed sheepishly.

***************

      It was just past six in the morning. The sun was shining brightly, birds were chirping cheerfully, and the early joggers were out in force. Richard was unaware of any of this. In his cramped, cluttered, and windowless office the harsh fluorescent lighting found him still hunched over his desk muttering to himself.

      "It's got to work. Richard was right. It is all a matter of belief. Reality does not exist. It is only a matter of shared belief. I can do it. I can do it."

***************

      "Richard? It's eight in the morning. Don't you have a class to teach?" Josef had been walking past Richard's door and stopped seeing the lights on and the door partially open. "And aren't those the same clothes you were wearing when I left you last night? Have you been here all night?"

      "Huh?" Richard started and squinted at the blurred shape at the door. For a moment it looked like his dear departed mother who came to his bedroom door and woke him every morning for the first eighteen years of his life before refocusing into the form of his lone friend at Clarke University. "Oh, hello Josef. What time did you say it was?"
"Eight A.M." Richard leaned against the door jam.

      "Yeah. I guess I must have been at it all night."

      "Don't you have a lecture hall now? Are you going to be able to teach it?"

      "Uh, yeah. It's, uh, Intro. to Psychology. Damn. I'm almost there. I can't stop my researches now." He looked at Richard and beseeched him. "Why don't you teach the course? You actually like teaching it and I'm so close. I just need a few more hours. Please."

      "Richard, I'd love to. You know how I do enjoy looking at the young women even more than you do, but I just came in early to grade exams. They're due back to my class in Analytic Methods at eleven. If I take a two hour lecture now I'll never get them done."
Richard said nothing but his face was a study in concentration as he stared at Josef. Josef initially smiled, but when Richard said nothing he began to feel a bit awkward.

      "Well, I guess I better go now." Josef turned to leave but hesitated. He felt briefly dizzy and put his hand on the door jam to steady himself. Shaking his head to clear it he turned back to the still concentrating Richard and spoke in a monotone. "My exams are graded. I forgot I stayed up late last night to complete them. I'd be happy to cover your Intro. lecture hall for you."

      "Thank you Josef I very much appreciate. Tell you what, how about lunch at the Faculty Dining Room at the Student Union at about two this afternoon. My treat."
 
      "Uh, sure. See you then." Josef turned to leave, still in a bit of a fog.

      "Oh, Josef."

      "Yes."

      "Here are my lecture notes." Richard held up a looseleaf notebook. Silently, Josef took the notes and left.

      Richard was quiet for several minutes. "YES. IT WORKS." He shouted in his excitement.

      Glaring at the coffee mug by his right arm, he waited for hot coffee to start gurgling up from the bottom. After a half a minute his elation was gone. "Looks like I still need to do a bit more work before I meet Josef for lunch." Once again Richard hunched over his research notes concentrating deeply. About a half an hour later he absently picked up his cup and sipped carefully at the hot coffee without noticing it was filled or hot again.

***************

 

Chapter One: Showtime

 

Scientists are the easiest to fool.
They think in straight, predictable, directable, and therefore misdirectable, lines.
The only world they know is the one where everything has a logical explanation
and things are what they appear to be.
Children and conjurors they terrify me. Scientists are no problem;
against them I feel quite confident.
         -- James P. Hogan (Code of the Lifemaker)

 
      "He's not a wicked or immoral person, but I do grant he can be intense."

      "Intense is an understatement Josef. Have you ever challenged one of his opinions?"

      “Yes Virginia, there is a god," Josef paused for effect, "... and his name is Richard Boatman." The two chuckled as they resumed their lunch. The faculty cafeteria in the Clarke College student union was gradually emptying as the various administrators departed through the huge, glass and metal archway leading to the student infested areas of the union for their paper empires. The few other members of the teaching staff had already departed for committee meetings or other essential activities although the milling throngs of students seemed to be increasing. While many found it distasteful to see youth wasting it time on pizza, pinball, and pool, Josef found great joy in observing and, when permitted, touching at least half of that mass of humanity.

      Virginia Hancock delicately played with the cubes of her gelatinous desert for a few moments while Josef surreptitiously fondled her rather pleasing breasts with his eyes. "But seriously Josef. He will listen to no one else. For what ever reason he cares about your opinion. He might listen to you."

      “And that is the operant word, 'might.' Considering his fanatical devotion to his current flight of fancy."

      "I know, I know." A deep sigh. "But Dean Johnson is threatening administrative action if he does not start paying more attention to his students." The uneaten cubes had been mashed into a red slurry. "I better get going or Dean Johnson will be trying to dock my pay, the dirty old bastard." With a frown she gathered her dishes and left. Josef took the opportunity to enjoy the plutritudinous scenery.

      "It's all in your mind."

      "What?" His pleasurable reveries shattered by the bellow Josef looked up from his chocolate mousse to see Richard Boatman pushing past the co ed he had been admiring as he stormed into the nearly empty cafeteria. The wild hair and beard did little to convince the onlookers of his reason or stability and the thick manuscript he slammed on the table in front of Josef sent the last three stragglers scurrying.

      "Would you please stop shouting, my mousse is quivering in fear. Why don't you get a cup of coffee and join me." Josef pushed his empty cup towards Richard, "I'd appreciate a refill. Cream and one sugar please."

      If it was possible for a coffeepot to show fear the tentative gurgles of this one would have made you wonder. Richard danced from foot to foot in his impatience as he prepared two coffees. Finally, coffee in hand he was back at Josef's table. Cups slapped ceramic against the plastic of the table top jolting Josef from the pleasurable visions beyond the cafeteria doors and Richard was seated.

      "I said 'the answer is that it's all in your mind.'"

      "Yes, I heard you, but if you don't mind, I'd prefer to discuss this variant of the greatest scientific discovery of the ages on a full stomach. By the way, the mousse is excellent."

      Richard was staring at the pudding cup, brow furrowed as he concentrated. Josef glanced up from his coffee and set it back down untouched. The mousse seemed to blur and loose definition. It crumpled up into a small lumpy ball. It seemed to become furry. A whisker twitched, a hairless tail appeared, there was a faint squeak and it was a small brown mouse that scurried off.

      Josef watched the mouse as it made a beeline for one of the snack machines. "Great." He muttered. "You can take the mouse out of the mousse but you can't take the chocolate out of the mouse." Looking back to Richard he continued more audibly, "That was very impressive. How did you do it?"

      "I told you, it's all in the mind."

      "Yes. And?"

      "Well, I was ... Hey, wait a minute. How come you're so calm. I just changed some chocolate pudding into a mouse. You should be astounded."

      "Impressed, not astounded." Josef sipped at his coffee. "It was an impressive bit of legerdemain, I grant you."

      "Legerdemain? You think that was some magic trick?"

      "Of course, albeit quite a good one."

      "I expected better from you." The hurt in his voice as Richard picked up the bound papers and prepared to leave was apparent.

      "Are you suggesting otherwise, Richard?"

      "Of course I'm 'suggesting otherwise' and I'm amazed you cannot distinguish a scientific breakthrough from a parlor trick." He was standing now, fists clenched and scowling.

      "Let's maintain our civility Richard. If I have in some way maligned your accomplishments I apologize. Why don't you sit down again and educate me." Richard wavered as conflicting emotions flashed across his face. Finally, he sat.

      "Thank you Richard. Now please tell me how you apparently transformed a mousse into a mouse."

      "Well, you know how there are discrepancies in Einsteinian Relativity Theory such as quarks that can travel faster than the speed of light?" Josef nodded but said nothing, surreptitiously stealing glances at some of the prettier coeds to pass.
"Physicists have been trying for years to explain these discrepancies by creating unified field theories. Always there has been the assumption that order can be made out of the chaos of the universe." Josef nodded affably again.

      "I approached this from the other direction. I assumed that there was no order."

      "Many have done that Richard. Look at Kafka for example."

      "Correct. But they were philosophers. They made the assumption and then stopped."

      "Once you've stated that there is only chaos where is there to go?" Josef took another sip of coffee.

      "Exactly the question I was facing, and then I remembered Chaos Theory. In large enough groupings even random events can be described in terms of systems. Chaos theorists routinely think in terms of mega systems. I hypothesized that when considered on the atomic level even microscopic events are mega systems. What we see around us are those mega systems, the billions and billions of atoms we see as systems called people, tables, and even a mouse ... one 's' or two."

      Josef pulled his attention back from a truly gorgeous redhead. "I fail to see where this is going Richard."

      "But it is so obvious. Chaos Theory will relate the flapping of a butterfly's wings in Asia to a hurricane in Kansas. I needed to find a way to effect the systems around me. It was just a matter of finding the key and that key is the mind."

      "I'm sorry Richard, I still fail to grasp your point."

      "Josef, you disappoint me. Put it all together. Point one, from examining the failures of the various attempts at a unified field theory, there is no order. Point two, from extrapolation of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, the mere act of examining something can change it. Point three, from Chaos Theory, the smallest, apparently insignificant thing can effect massive temporary systems. Now take each to the extreme. Nothing is stable and the smallest thing can effect massive change in the temporary groupings we call the systems that make up our reality. I think of something as different and the thought impacts on the thing changing it. It's merely a matter of overcoming inertia. If I think about it with sufficient certainty the changing thing can become what I think it is." Richard beamed at Josef with satisfaction.

      "That seems like quite a stretch Richard. If I understand you correctly, I could look at this cup of coffee and merely by thinking at it change it into something else, oh, say like a candy bar."

      "Absolutely." If possible he beamed even more. "That's exactly it Josef."

      "But it's still a cup of coffee." Josef turned the cup about in his hand as if to find some small portion that had turned to chocolate.

      "Of course not. Josef it is not enough to think about something, you must think at it."

      "And how would I accomplish this feat?" Josef placed the cup back on the table and delicately wiped his hands and face with a napkin.

      "That's what my manuscript describes, the final component to my discovery." He waved the thick sheaf of papers in the air.

      Standing Josef picked up and stacked the remains of his meal. "Richard this has been most amusing but I have a class in a few minutes and I would not wish to keep our lovely coeds waiting."

      "How dare you." Face contorted in rage, Richard almost screamed. "You think I am but a moment's entertainment, that I have concocted this tale out of whole cloth, that I have attempted to trick you with prestidigitation and persiflage."

      Josef's attempts to calm Richard were fruitless.

      "I shall prove my words by changing you. What would you like to become? ... a Dodo? ... a Hyena?" Josef's eyes had wandered from the irate Richard to a passing coed.

      Richard was reduced to sputtering at Josef's lack of attention to his tirade. Taking a deep breath to at least slightly reign in his anger he continued in the cold calm voice of one who has made the ultimate decision as he passed sentence. "Very well Richard become that which you so dearly covet."

      Once again Richard's brow furrowed as he concentrated. Josef dragged his attention away from the pretty young woman and noted Richard's concentration with concern. "Richard, what are you doing?"

      "Tell me Josef, what is the woman of your dreams? Is she a blonde or a brunette?" Josef failed to notice the cunning smile on Richard's face. Bemused he found himself answering.

      "Blonde, golden or honey blonde, almost approaching a light brown." Richard answered without questioning why he did.

      "Describe her to me. Is her hair long or short? Is it curly, wavy, or straight? Tell me what she looks like."

      "Wavy hair, down to the shoulder blades. A model's face, slightly asymmetrical, with arching blonde eyebrows, a straight, slightly pug nose, full lips ..." Josef found him describing his dream girl in excruciating detail prompted infrequently for additional details. He didn't understand why he was doing this or why he could not seem to stop, wondering if he had somehow been hypnotized as he calmly watched his words become his reality.

      "Look at yourself Josef. You are your dream girl. Examine yourself. Do you still consider this some type of deception?" He waited impatiently while his colleague examined herself.

      Eventually Josef tore himself from his inventory. "Amazing. Richard, I commend you. I do appear to be my 'dream girl.' Touch, taste, hearing, sight, and smell. They all give the same message. This is excellent Richard. I wasn't aware that you were such an accomplished hypnotist." Josef beamed with joy, clearly impressed.

      Richard stared in shock. "Hypnotist? You jest. You can't possibly be so limited, so narrow minded. Is there nothing I can do to convince you of the veracity of my claims? perhaps I should give you the enfeebled brain most would expect to go with that body ... no there is no retribution without awareness." He mulled his options aloud before continuing in tones more appropriate to a preacher speaking of hell and damnation. "I know, Josef listen to me. This is your curse and your salvation. Your curse is to have to act like the sexual plaything you seek. Your behavior will always be that of a sex hungry female to those about you. However, trapped behind the facade of a nymphomaniac, your mind will still be totally aware of who you are and who you use to be. Your salvation I leave you in this manuscript. Read it and believe the truth of what I have discovered and you may learn how to regain your past."

      With those words Richard faded away leaving his laughing lips and teeth to disappear last.

**********

 
Part Two: Immortal Acts

 

It is not true that suffering ennobles the character; happiness does that sometimes, but suffering, for the most part, makes men petty and vindictive.
         -- Somerset Maugham (Moon and Sixpence)

 
      Assistant Professor Richard Boatman faded back into view in his cramped and cluttered cubbyhole of an office. The smile he had as he departed from the cafeteria and Josef, now Josette, Rimsky turned to a scowl as he surveyed his alleged domain.

      "This is NOT the office of the 'Master of Reality.' A god needs his own secretary and an office befitting his new station." He closed his eyes and began to concentrate. The world blurred again when he opened his eyes he was standing in the entry to an office complex with plush white carpet and royal blue walls trimmed with oak wainscoting and covered in art work that would have made the curators of the Lourve drool except for the ornate gilded plaster frames. About twenty feet away sat what looked like a playboy bunny behind a huge oak and glass desk that hid nothing of her beauty. Behind her was a raised gold sign reading...

Offices of Richard Boatman
God

      Richard glanced behind him. Where the battered wooden door to his office had been there was now a pair of glass doors leading into the hallway he had just left. The woman put down her telephone and glanced up, doing a double take when she saw Richard. She quickly pushed a button and came running around the desk towards Richard to be joined by a half dozen more women equally as beautiful. As they reached him they fell to the floor and prostrated themselves before Richard. "Welcome master. How may we serve you today?"

      "Take me to my office."

      "Yes sir. They jumped as one, each trying to out do the others to win his favor as they escorted him to a huge set of elaborately embellished oak doors as Richard thought how close this was to what he assumed was Josef's dream of perfection. Beyond the doors was a room the size of a small gymnasium decorated much like the hallway with a range of entertainment devices from pinball and video games to a small pool and hot tub. There was also a western style bar, brass rail and all behind which was a set of swinging doors leading to a professional kitchen if his nose was any judge, and a huge heart shaped bed with white silk sheets and about a dozen similarly clad silk pillows. At the far end of the room was the largest oak desk Richard could imagine and several plush chairs. Between the desk and the bed was another door with a sign over it that read "library." When Richard peeked in there were more than a dozen more beautiful, scantily clad women rushing about sorting, cataloging, and shelving books and other media. There were more labeled door along the remainder of the wall but Richard ignored them for now instead turning toward the back wall. The back wall was a window looking out onto a azure blue lake surrounded by a lush forest framed by snow capped mountains and a sky with fluffy blue clouds scattered about.

      The women continued to faun over him as he surveyed his new domain until he picked one, a blonde looking much like Josef when he had left her last, to show him around. The tour took more than an hour as Richard tried out each game. When he approached the bar another woman, this one a redhead, came out the swinging doors carrying several trays of hors d'oeuvres and began mixing drinks for the three of them. He skipped the library for the moment and was trying to choose between the bed and the pool and hot tub combination when he noticed a shipping palette stacked head high with paper. Walking over to it he grabbed a handful and discovered they were assorted denominations of United States currency, none smaller than a twenty dollar bill. Giving each a hundred that they immediately stuffed down their skimpy G-strings he walked back to the hot tub.

      "May we help you into the hot tub master?"

      "Ooh master, may I scrub your back please?"

      "No master, let me. Let me scrub your back please."
 
      "I asked first." The blonde shot at the redhead before turning pleadingly back to Richard. "I did ask first, didn't I master. Didn't I?"

      "But I rub better master." The redhead pleaded pushing the blonde away.

      The blonde fell back a step before recovering and then yanked the redhead's hair. "I was here first. You leave him alone." In seconds they were rolling about on the ground at Richard's feet.

      "Stop." The word was spoken barely above a whisper but both stopped, frozen in mid cat fight. "Don't fight. If you want the hot tub that badly we'll all get in." They quickly scampered to their feet, undressed him, and helped him into the tub before joining him.

      "May we undress also master?"

      "Very well." Soaking wet bikini tops and bottoms went flying as Richard adjusted himself comfortably on the padded seat situated in the center of the tub.

      "So where's the rubbing?" They giggled and began rubbing. The redhead at his back and the blonde at his front.

      Richard luxuriated in the bubbly warmth of the hot tub and the gentle ministrations of the two lovelies who had joined him. He quickly felt himself relaxing more and more except for areas of his groin. Down there he was feeling tense, albeit of a highly pleasurable nature. As if sensing his beginning arousal the blonde began rubbing closer and closer to his crotch while the redhead began pressing closer so she could rub her breasts against his back while her hands reached around to gently fondle his chest.

      "Tell me something." They instantly stopped and were totally attentive. "No. don't stop." The pleasurable rubbing began again. "I was just wondering what your names were."

      "Master, you have not yet named us. What would you like to call us."

      "What were your names before?"

      The redhead was first this time followed immediately by the blonde. "My name was Colin McCready, Master."

      "And I was Professor Ivan Issaksen, Master."

      Nonplused, Richard's nicely full erection began to shrink as he realized that these were actually men attending to him.

      Seeing the erection fading Ivan spoke fearfully, tears beginning to well up in her eyes, "Oh Master, have we offended. Please tell us what you wish so we may better please you. Please Master."

      "You were my Department Chairman?" Richard held Ivan by her shoulders examining her. He could see nothing of the fat, balding, constantly grumbling septuagenarian that had been Ivan Issaksen.

      Sobbing in fear, she could only nod her affirmation. Colin had also stopped rubbing and was cowering as far from him as she could get in the hot tub. Richard considered for several long seconds unmindful of the others' fear. Eventually, a smile crept back into his face.

      "Relax. both of you and come here before me." They quickly moved to stand side by side in front of him heads bowed in submission as they awaited his next words.

      Raising his hand he gently tapped each on the head and sprinkled water on their faces. "Ivan I dub thee Inga. Colin I dub thee Colleen. You shall be my favorites and shall serve me in all ways. Now return to your ministrations." They beamed with joy as they began rubbing again, more enticingly than before. It was but a matter of a few strokes before Richard was back to full erection and only a minute or so more before Richard was stroking and fondling them also.

      "Let's move this to the bed." Colleen scrambled to obtain several large towels, also color coordinated with the room, while Inga remained to keep him aroused. As he stepped out of the hot tub they both began drying him while never once forgetting the reason for leaving the tub. By the time he had reached the huge heart shaped bed he was unsure how much longer he would be able to contain himself.

      They slid onto the bed not bothering to move under the sheets. Richard was in the center while the two women positioned themselves on each side pressing their bodies against his as they continued to rub, tweak, and lick.

      "Inga, you first. I want to do to you what you've done to me so many times before over the years." Colleen pouted for a moment but then returned to licking and nipping at his nipples while Inga immediately positioned herself over his erect penis and gently slid onto it with a satisfied sigh before rhythmically raising and lowering herself.

      In less than a minute Richard was racked with the intense pleasure of the best orgasm he had ever achieved. As his erection faded Inga stopped moving in order to hold him within her for as long as possible but shortly the inevitable soft popping sound came and with a smug glance at Colleen Inga slid off.

      "Me too Master?" Colleen begged.

      Richard considered before smiling. "Certainly, my dear. After all, I am a god." Inga, would you be a good girl and bring me Dean Johnson? Screwing the one's that have screwed me in the past feels verrry good."

      Inga was instantly up and running for the door. "Don't forget to put on some clothes. You wouldn't want to cause a spectacle." Suddenly she was dressed in a conservative lavender business suit with matching heels and her hair was tied in a conservative bun. A pair of delicate gold wire rimmed glasses adorned her nose. He chuckled at the thought of the phenomenally beautiful woman not causing a spectacle dressed or undressed and turned back to Colleen.

      "Let's see. Where were we?" Instantly his penis was erect again and, if anything, a larger than before. Colleen's eyes grew round with wonder at the miracles she had just witnessed, but her amazement quickly changed to lust as she examined the little miracle of his newly risen penis.

      "How about some music?" In response to her Master's request Colleen clapped twice and called out, "Library."

      "Yes." A soft soprano answered from speakers on the walls at the corners of the room.

      "Music. Revelle's Bolero." She glanced back to Richard. "Is that satisfactory Master?" He nodded.

**********

      They were relaxing in the glow of Richard's second orgasm when Inga returned. "Dean Johnson is waiting in the vestibule. Would you like to see him in the Throne Room, Master?"

      "That sounds like an excellent idea. Lead me there?"

      "Yes Master. Do you wish raiments Master?"

      "Why not. You two should be dressed also. Something formal but revealing." He thought a moment and he was covered in a floor length royal blue silk gown with a white fur collar that traced a deep vee to just above his navel and a blue and white bejeweled crown sat regally upon his head. The women were similarly dressed, but with more delicate tiaras.

      "I think we're ready now. Let's go." The women followed a step behind him, leaping ahead to open doors. He realized he knew without thinking where he was going and smiled smugly at his intelligence and forethought.

      Unsurprisingly, the Throne Room was exactly as he expected it to be. Easily the size of a football field, enclosed with gracefully arching oaken supports meeting in an arch at least a hundred feet above the marbled floor. Hundreds of women were lined up in two columns about twenty feet apart with the columns facing each other from the huge, elaborately carved door to his throne at the far end. Richard came out a smaller door just behind the throne. Sweeping around he went directly to it and sat while the women bowed.

      "Bring him in." He spoke with a booming voice that seemed to clearly reach every corner of the room.

      The far door opened and Dean Johnson entered bracketed by a half dozen more of his women. Richard watched solemnly as they approached, and approached, and approached. Finally the Dean was at the base of the throne and one of his escort whispered, "Bow to they Lord and Master."

      The Dean glared at Richard ignoring the command until two of them forced him to his knees and held his head down. Sputtering in anger he rose to his feet. "What is the meaning of this? I don't know how you've created this illusion but I demand you stop it immediately. His foot tapped impatiently as he waited.

      "Greetings Dean Johnson."

**********

 

End -- Part One of Four

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Comments

Cor !

Cor! That was fun !

Of course, I am just going through the logic, to find the flaw, being a spoil sport. I think it had to do with the square root of minus one....

... if only it worked...

Briar

Briar

That's the Fun Part of Logic

Oh, it's logical. Therefore, it must work. You just need to figure out how to apply enough fictons of energy to cause a change. That's the fun part of logic. You can prove anything you want if you start with the right assumptions. If you want to find the flaw, look at my assumptions.

Subjective or Objective

He could be lost inside his own mind, or this all could be as real as he sees it. Kinda reminds me of the holodeck fantasies of that one lieutenant on ST-TNG. Can't think of his name, the introverted one. Manages to make contact with Voyager with the communications array on ST-Voyager.

Don't stop now! Just how much of a megalomaniac is he? Who was Colin? Some poor dude who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got caught up in Richard's gandiose web?

Damaged people are dangerous
They know they can survive

Colin was just some shnook...

Colin was just some shnook who happened to get caught in Richard's web. There will be a lot more before this is over. It's part of his dehumanization. He is beginning to care less and less for the feelings of others and more and more about his own personal wants.