0 comments/ 70143 views/ 11 favorites Syracuse is Waiting By: krr1957 This story is in the BDSM category for very good reasons. It deals with strong themes of female domination and non consensual sexual acts. If such material is likely to offend you then please find yourself another story. * Chapter 1 I lay on the bed, completely naked, with the most fierce erection of my life and for the third time in as many minutes I tried to move. The sweat stood out on my brow as I strained every sinew but my muscles would simply not obey; it was as though I was bound with straps. She watched with quiet amusement as she continued to undress and carefully folded her clothes over the back of the chair. If the effort of trying to move was great then the effort of trying to place her face was greater still. She exuded class and was a woman that I would have generally considered to have been out of my league but I definitely knew her from somewhere. As her body was slowly revealed it did nothing to quell my obvious arousal; if I had to design my fantasy female she might well be the one. She had long, well toned legs, and stood about five foot eight. She obviously kept in shape but not at the expense of her desirable curves and my eyes were drawn to her impressive breasts with their dark upturned nipples. Judging by her dusky complexion I guessed that she had some Mediterranean blood flowing in her veins and her large dark eyes and blue-black hair would seem to confirm this. As I watched she released her barrette and allowed her thick tresses to cascade down her back. As soon as she was completely undressed she moved slowly towards me. "An impressive cock, but then I knew you would have." Again, that cut glass English accent. The crude word sounded incongruous coming from her but I knew that voice and I dredged, in vain, my normally impeccable memory. She stood beside me and looked down into my eyes sending an irrational tremor of fright through my body. In physical terms I was so much bigger, at least six inches taller and probably half as heavy again. Add to that the fact that I was fitter than most gym enthusiasts and had been well trained in unarmed combat techniques and I should have had nothing to fear but I had never felt so helpless. "Are you afraid? You should be." There was a hint of amusement in her voice as she said this and then she slinked up onto the bed with an unhurried feline grace. She knelt, straddling my thighs, and the coolness of her skin made me realize just how clammy my own flesh had become. Under any other circumstances having a woman as beautiful as this take hold of my cock would have been a dream come true but I tried to resist. I tensed my muscles, readying myself to throw her off, but the effort dissipated itself in a series of pitiful spasms. She could not quite close her hand around my erection but her grip was firm and assured as she slowly began to rub me. I closed my eyes and tried to will my erection away but she had knowing fingers and, as she rubbed, she rippled them in a delicious kneading motion. We remained locked like that for a minute or two engaged in an unspoken battle of wills but it was clear that there could only be one winner. I felt my balls begin to swell slightly and knew that it would now be only a matter of seconds but she could read my body. "Don't come. Not until I tell you to." With those few words I was like a pan taken off the boil; something in me relaxed and she was free to continue. I stared helplessly at her immaculate fingernails. They were coated with a clear varnish, obviously high maintenance, and she was now scratching gently at my shaft as she rubbed. The sensation was poised between pain and pleasure and it quickly brought me back to the edge but my torment now entered a new phase. She raised herself over me so that her sex hovered above my erection and she used the sensitized head to stimulate herself. Everything about this woman was immaculate but her pubis seemed to have staged a rebellion. It was defined by a sharp triangle of black curls which had been allowed to flourish within their confines and, as she moved, they grazed maddeningly against my nerve endings. My body gave a series of tiny jerks as I sought to escape the irritating sensation but her smile told me that she was enjoying my discomfort. My only relief came when, every now and again, she would permit a firmer contact between us letting me know that she was slowly becoming more aroused. Finally, she held my shaft still and allowed the head to slip through her labia where the heat was almost painful. My instincts made me want to sink deeper within but she held me at the portal as she used the tip to massage her clitoris. She gave an almost inaudible groan which suggested, for the very first time, that she might be relinquishing the total control that she had demonstrated from the outset and it seemed like an involuntary surrender when she finally relaxed her leg muscles and allowed gravity to do its work. She slid down onto me, accommodating my not inconsiderable length with ease, until my thighs were bearing her bodyweight. For a second or two her eyes remained closed and I quickly looked at my watch but I could not remember what time I had arrived. It seemed as though I had been erect for hours but there was no sign of flagging. She opened her eyes again, placed the flat of her hands on my chest to brace herself, and then she slowly eased herself up. It seemed to take an age until she reached the pinnacle and then held herself there with just the tip of my cock holding me in place. She remained where she was, without strain, for a count of three and then she allowed herself to be gently impaled once more. After that she set up an easy rhythm rising each time until I was almost in danger of slipping out and then a more determined descent as she ground her clitoris against my pubic bone. It went on for minute after minute, seemingly with no effort on her part, and I was brought to the brink more than once but each time I got there I felt something in me relax and I was back where I started. The problem was that my erection remained undiminished and what started out as a nagging cramp became more painful each time I was denied. I searched for clues in her face, hoping to see some sign of an impending climax, but she smiled at me as though she could read all my thoughts. The only comfort I could take was from the faint sheen of perspiration that had formed in the valley of her breasts which suggested that there was, at last, some exertion on her part. When the end came it was sudden and unexpected. There was no speeding up, no cries of exultation, she simply came to rest on my thighs and worked her pelvis in a lazy circular motion. I felt the heat and moisture and a tightening around my shaft which developed into a series of irregular spasms which slowly faded away. Afterwards, she looked at me contemplatively as though making up her mind and then, adopting a 'why not?' expression, she slowly lifted herself free of my still needy erection. I expected her to get up from the bed but, instead, she eased her way forwards until her knees were pinning my shoulders and her sex was poised just inches above my face. Her labia were swollen and still distended allowing me a gynecological view of her opening which still glistened with juices. I was unable to look away and, as I watched, she began to tease her clitoris with a single finger. "Beautiful, isn't it?" In another time and another place I might have agreed with her but now, as I watched her coax her clitoris back to an excited plumpness I felt nothing but revulsion. "Smell me." She set her wet finger under my nose and I could not help myself. I breathed in the heady scent. "Now taste..." She slipped the tip of her finger past my lips and I found myself suckling it, my mouth slowly filling with the ripe flavour of her. "I bet none of your women have ever tasted as good...now lick me." Her self confidence was frightening as she withdrew her finger from my mouth and then parted herself before allowing her weight to settle. My nostrils were pressed closed beneath her as she clenched my head firmly with her thighs and I opened my mouth instinctively only to have it filled with the damp hair of her pubis. I wanted to throw her off, to bite her, to do anything except what she wanted but my tongue seemed to have a mind of its own as it eased its way through the thicket to where a tiny rivulet had already begun to flow. The taste was fresher, more palatable, and I gave thanks that I had not been able to come inside her; I had never tasted semen, mine or anyone else's, and I had no wish to start. Now that my tongue was inside her she demonstrated less self control. She writhed over me enticing my tongue to go deeper and it was only these indiscriminate movements that allowed me to take fleeting, but shallow, breaths from time to time. It became suffocatingly hot as she squeezed her thighs more tightly in an effort to bring on her second climax and I was little more than a passenger. At some point it became clear that my straining tongue was not, by itself, going to be enough to bring her off and she started to grind herself against my face in an effort to provide her clitoris with the required stimulation. For a full minute my head was wrenched from side to side as she selfishly worked out her own pleasure but then a spurt of moisture straight into my mouth heralded the onset of her orgasm. That first gush was followed by others that I was forced to swallow but I was glad to have it over with. At the very peak she had cried out, though I only perceived it as a muffled nonsense as her thighs cut off my hearing, but now, as she relaxed a little, I could hear that her breathing had become ragged. She was in no hurry to dismount and her juices continued to fill my mouth until, finally, and with not a little effort, she got up from the bed on to her distinctly unsteady legs. It took a second or two for her to compose herself and than, without another word, she walked from the room leaving me to try and produce enough saliva to clear the persistent taste of her from my mouth. The distinctive sound of a wine cork being pulled simply added to my torment. Now that she was gone I tried to get my muscles working again but the only ones that seemed fully functional were those in the area of my groin. Even now I was still at full erection and I began to wonder if she had somehow slipped me a drug. Following that train of thought I tried to piece together the sequence of events that had brought me to this place. It had started that morning. The phone had rung just before the alarm was scheduled to go off at seven a.m.; before I could speak a female voice, her voice I now realized, had used just three words. "Syracuse is waiting." After that the line went dead. Given the nature of my profession I instinctively felt that something was not quite right but when I tried to call back I found that the number had been withheld. I was still pondering it on my way into the office but nothing would come to mind. The day passed quickly but, by mid afternoon, I found myself looking up at the clock at ever more frequent intervals. It was irrational behaviour. I was self employed and chose my own hours and I had nothing planned for that evening but nevertheless I kept checking the time. At five p.m., unusually early by my normal standards, I decided to call it a day. As soon as I got into the car I knew it was a mistake. The rush hour traffic was almost at a standstill and I was soon caught in it. I took to the side streets but others had had the same idea and I was slowly drifting further out of my way. Soon I was in unfamiliar streets but I knew that my mental compass was leading me in vaguely the right direction. Then I saw the hotel and, in spite of my self-assurance, I suddenly felt a need to check my directions. I parked up outside and walked into the foyer and was immediately approached by the concierge. "You are a little late, but you are expected. Suite five on the tenth floor." For a second or two I was bemused and I was about to put him right when it crossed my mind that I might have had an engagement that I had forgotten about. It was not unusual for my clients to want to meet in out of the way places and I might have arrived here on auto pilot; after all, my subconscious had been trained to cover lapses in my conscious mind. "You were expecting me?" "At five-thirty, driving an Aston Martin DB6." My 1968 car was distinctive enough and to his mind he had the right man which only served to intrigue me further. I left him standing as I made my way to the lifts and then along the plush corridor to Suite 5 anxious now to get to the bottom of it. I rang at the bell and, a few seconds later she had opened the door. My immediate thoughts were contradictory. I was convinced that I knew her from somewhere but a name would not come to mind and surely I would not forget someone so stunningly beautiful. My eyes quickly took in the desirability of her body, sheathed in a blue dress of raw silk, before she stepped aside and ushered me in. I followed her into the living area but, with her back still to me, she motioned towards the bedroom. "Don't speak. Get undressed, lie on the bed, and don't move" and then, almost as an afterthought, "I want to see a little more life in your cock." I felt embarrassed that my burgeoning erection should have been so obvious but she was clearly mistaken about me. She obviously believed that I was some sort of gigolo and some mischievous part of me was almost tempted to play along. That seed, once planted, seemed to take root of its own accord and I found myself in the bedroom taking off my clothes. Less than two minutes after entering the suite I was lying down naked with my cock fully erect. It was outrageous, irrational, behaviour even by the standards of my chequered past, but there was no stopping myself. I lay and waited until she appeared at the door and, at that moment, I stopped being led by my cock. My instincts screamed at me that something was wrong and I tried to sit up but I found that I no longer could. She could see the turmoil in my face and the tiniest hint of nervousness that hovered about her immediately evaporated. She moved into the room and examined my prone body as she walked around the bed. I wanted to ask so many questions but my brain would not form the words and then she started to undress... I examined every detail again and again but I could still draw no firm conclusions. The only way I could account for my present state was the use of drugs but how had they been administered and when? I had just turned my mind back to the question of where I had met her before when she came back into the room. She was still naked and she had completely regained her poise. "Are you ready for round two? Now what shall it be?" As she said it she took hold of my cock and gave it a gentle squeeze, reassuring herself of its firmness. "Impressive...but I think we'll save it until later." With that she mounted the bed in a single lithe movement to straddle my face once more but this time facing down my body. From inches away I could smell the slightly stale scent of her earlier arousal and I could see that her sex had still not fully recovered from her previous exertions. Her labia were an angry pink and stood a little proud of the sodden mess of her pubic hair. Again, I tried to gain some control over my treacherous limbs but, strain as I might, my body refused to co-operate. "I want you to concentrate on my clit. Let's see how good you are." My head was tremoring with effort but I was brought to stillness as her tight globes descended plunging me into darkness. She let most of her weight rest on my forehead which had the effect of tipping my head back slightly and bringing my mouth to bear exactly where she wanted it. Her pubis was cool and damp but as she slowly spread herself, opening herself over my mouth, I could immediately feel the heat of her renewed excitement. I wanted to resist with every fibre of my being but a voice deep inside was telling me that the sooner I started the sooner it would be over. I put out my tongue but, from my awkward position, it was a long stretch to reach her clitoris and I could only lick fleetingly like a snake seeking prey. "Very good...just like that." She relaxed a little, settling even more heavily, and my nose was driven deeper into her cleft where it was immediately pinched closed. Whilst every move seemed natural I sensed that it was all premeditated and I felt a cold chill. At a guess I would say that she was a little younger than me, about twenty-five perhaps, but she was displaying a frightening maturity. Even the angle of my tongue seemed carefully contrived so as to catch her juices and to channel them down my throat. She kept still, allowing me to do all the work, but it was growing hotter by the moment. Her buttocks seemed to radiate heat and sweat was stinging my eyes. "That's nice...stretch your tongue a little more...come on! Try harder!" I did as she asked but my whole mouth was aching and my lungs were screaming out for air untainted by her ever deeper scent. "Don't stop! Oh Yes!" Her composure was gone. She began to move her hips as she rode out her climax on my battered features and still her juices flowed. I had never known a woman to be so wet and now my face was liberally smeared. As before she remained where she was, whilst she recovered, knowing full well that I was struggling for breath. "Your technique could do with a little work but I see no reason why we shouldn't begin to make use of you straight away." With those cryptic remarks she lifted herself from me and then, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, she moved down the bed, turned herself around, and eased herself down onto my erection. The pain was almost immediate. I had been kept aroused beyond all normal limits and I grimaced as she started to take her pleasure for a fourth time. Fortunately, her physical strength was not the equal of her sexual greed and, after a few minutes, she lifted herself free. She gave a sigh which suggested that she would be happy to wait for another occasion and then she disappeared into the bathroom taking her clothes with her. I lay there listening to the shower run and then, finally, she reappeared fully dressed and made up. "Give me ten minutes start." And then she was gone. Exactly ten minutes later my erection wilted and I was able to get up from the bed. My instinct was to chase after her but somehow I knew she would be long gone. Instead, I took a shower and tried to clean myself of the stench of her. Back in the lobby a reasonable bribe for the concierge elicited the information that the suite had been taken on a long term booking and paid for using a corporate credit card. A second more sizable bribe provided me with a copy of the transaction slip. Chapter 2 The following morning I was in the office early. I subscribed to several company search agencies and it did not take long to discover that the company which had paid for the room was a brass plate in Luxembourg. It was frustrating having to wait until the Grand Duchy's civil service came to life but by mid-morning I had established that the company was one hundred percent owned by a trust based in the Bahamas . This was good news. I had a regular contact at the Bahamian registry who was not beyond taking a bribe but, once again, I had to allow for the time difference. I was satisfied with my mornings work and I turned my attention to the mail but I had no sooner opened the first envelope than the phone rang. Syracuse is Waiting "Syracuse is waiting..." It was a woman's voice, slightly accented, but she said no more than those three words. I felt a cold chill and then anger. I could not wait for the Bahamian registry to open I had to know what was going on. In less than two minutes I had locked the office and taken the six flights of stairs down to the basement car park. I slammed the Aston into gear and pulled out aggressively into the midday traffic. I drove straight to the hotel and I was starting to perspire as I hammered on the door of Suite 5. There was a lengthy pause before the door opened and I was through it immediately. In truth I was surprised to find the room occupied but if I was expecting anyone, it was my tormentress of the previous day. In the event I was faced by a different woman who seemed completely unfazed by my forceful entrance. My trained eye took her in at a glance. She was tall, thin, with blonde hair cut short in a style that was a little young for her features. She had the beginnings of laughter lines around her piercing blue eyes and I guessed that she was touching forty. In her prime she probably would have been considered beautiful and even now she would certainly hold her own with women years younger. "I have some questions. First off I want to know who you are and what's your connection with the woman that I met here yesterday?" She looked at me unflinchingly with a hint of amusement in her features. "They told me you would be both good looking and spirited. It would appear that they were right." I was taken slightly off balance by her reply not least the suggestion that she may have been expecting me. "Who are 'they'?" She did not reply. Instead, she came towards me and ran the back of her hand across my chin. "You'll find a razor and some shaving oil in the bathroom. Go and shave...and make a good job of it." It had been some hours since I had shaved that morning and it suddenly seemed very natural to want to tidy myself up. Without thinking I stepped into the bathroom. The razor was new and the shaving oil expensive and only after I had finished my second shave of the day did the absurdity of what I was doing come home to me. As I stared at myself in the mirror I knew, with certainty, that there was some subliminal influence at work and, given my past, that conclusion filled me with apprehension. I do not frighten easily but I looked at the bathroom door and was afraid to go through it. I was still frozen with indecision when I heard her on the other side. "If you've finished I want you to come out and get yourself undressed." I saw my hand reaching towards the door handle almost as though it belonged to someone else. For the next few seconds I fought to gain control but I was a puppet with someone else pulling the strings. My natural self preservation instincts kicked in and I pictured in my mind just where she was standing. If I crashed through the door I might be able to disable her but no sooner was that thought formed than another took its place. It was imperative that she did not come to harm. I opened the door carefully and stepped into the bedroom to find that she had moved towards the bed. I had to get away from her but even as I was readying myself to spring towards the door my fingers were already unbuttoning my shirt. My own will was paralyzed as I continued to undress whilst she stood and watched me with an unnerving self-confidence. Once I was naked, and free of any more instructions, I hoped that I would be able to force my body to action but I stood mutely as I waged my own, futile, internal struggle. "Come here." I struggled to give myself a new point of focus and set my mind to identifying her accent. I thought back to the lectures that I had found so boring at the time and tried to apply what I had been taught. "Kneel down and take off my skirt." The slightly elongated vowels and truncated consonants suggested that she was a Russian and with her faintly Nordic features I would have placed her in the north west of the federation. I went down to my knees and she turned her hips slightly to make her skirt zip available. I unfastened the single button and pulled the zip down slowly allowing the skirt to fall down her legs and puddle at her feet. She stepped out of it and stood with her legs slightly apart. "Kiss it." There was no doubting what she meant. She was wearing stay-up stockings and her sex was just inches from my face showing through the sheer material of her expensive panties. She was shaved, except for a neat tuft of blonde hair at the crown , and her labia were pressed flat by the tight weave. "Look, we have to talk." "That's the last thing we need to do. You won't say another word until I tell you to. Now kiss it." I knew now that there was no point in trying to resist but it was against my nature to give in without a fight. An enormous tension built up in my neck as I tried to hold back but, inch by inch, I was moving closer. I was breathing unevenly through my nose and it was obvious that her panties were not fresh on but, even as this thought impinged, I pursed my lips and kissed gently. "That's nice. Keep doing it." I planted a string of delicate kissed along the whole length of her sex and I could feel her labia slowing suffusing. "Now lick...nicely." I flattened my tongue and ran it over the gusset of her panties. They were already damp but quickly became wet and not simply as a result of my saliva. Notwithstanding the tightness of the material her sex was slowly opening and she was beginning to leak. For a second or two the taste was unpleasant but as her panties became completely sodden it became bearable. "There's a good boy. Just like that ..." I continued to lick with broad flat strokes but the damp material was hard on my tongue and my neck began to protest once more as I remained bent at an awkward angle. "Stop for a moment." Her instruction came as a welcome relief and I knelt unspeaking as she pulled off her jumper with a crackle of static and then removed her bra. In keeping with her slim build she had very modest breasts but the compensation was a most extraordinary pair of nipples. The areolae were small tight circles and the teats themselves extended to almost an inch in length bearing testimony to her growing excitement. She stood for a moment, quietly amused, as she watched the shock register on my face and then she slipped her panties down her legs. I expected her to bring me back to work immediately but she stepped around me and walked to the mini bar where she made herself a vodka and tonic. That done, she opened up her laptop and set it in place by the armchair before sitting herself down. "Come here. You know what I want." Just to make the message a little clearer she opened her legs and, even though I was kneeling ten paces away, I could smell her excitement. I felt revolted but I moved forward on my knees and stooped between her thighs. "Pick up where you left off." I began to lick her, the job made easier now that there was no impediment, and as I did so she reached towards the laptop. In the quiet of the room I heard a disk spinning up and then I heard voices speaking German. This was no business dialogue but it took a few seconds before realization dawned. She was watching porn. I already felt used but now even more so she treated me as a masturbatory adjunct. From the snatches that I managed to catch the film seemed to have a BDSM theme. There was much female laughter punctuated by a male voice pathetically begging. It sounded as though the girls were getting it together and this seemed to excite my tormentress. Her sex grew noticeably warmer and it began to weep copiously. I licked more firmly and tried to press my tongue inside. "Slow down. We have all afternoon." It was the casual assumption implicit in her words that made my anger burn but still my tongue laboured on. The film must have lasted for more than an hour and, at one point, she even replayed one part that she had found particularly titillating. By the end of it every part of me seemed to ache and I was still unable to tell whether or not she had reached a climax. "Take a rest for a moment." I knelt away from her but found that I could not retreat too far nor could I avert my eyes from her sex. She reached across me and I feared that she was going to reset the DVD but, instead, she pulled her laptop carry case towards her and took out something that was clearly not a computer accessory. "Do you it like it?" It was a phallus fashioned from black latex to look frighteningly realistic. It was a good nine inches long and thick in proportion. "Get it wet for me." She held the hideous thing in front of my mouth which I tried to keep firmly closed but as she pressed the bulbous head gently but insistently against my lips I felt them parting to accept it. The taste was rank and rubbery as she worked it around inside my mouth. "Am I to assume that you have never done this for real?" Even the thought of it made me ill and she was quick to pick up on my unease. "This one is a particularly expensive model. I had my ex-husband act as a life model." Even though it was made of latex the very thought that it had anything in common with a real life specimen was enough to make me gag and she had to withdraw it for a moment as I threatened to part company with the meager contents of my stomach. She laughed. "I'm disappointed in you. Look how easy it is to take." I watched as she held it against her sex and then, with practiced ease, she began to slip it inside. It seemed unreal as her labia stretched to accommodate it and she carried on pressing until it had almost disappeared. Once she had it all the way home her eyes closed for a moment and when she opened them again they were brighter than ever. She held it inside for a few seconds and then began to pull it out twisting it slowly as she did so. Almost reluctantly she pulled it free and held it up in front of my face. "See?" The whole thing was coated with her sap but my eyes were transfixed by a single, fine, milky strand which hung web-like from the very end. "Tip your head back and open wide. Let's see you give it another try." My mouth opened seemingly of its own volition and she held the down pointing monstrosity overhead. I felt my body shake as she slowly, teasingly, lowered it until the tip came to rest on my tongue. "Lick it." I tried not to but my tongue curled around the shaft and I began to do as she asked. The taste of her overpowered the pungent taste of rubber but it made the task no less hateful. She watched as I worked slavishly twisting the shaft so that nothing was missed. "See. I knew you could do it." As she spoke she removed the thing from my mouth but only to push it deep inside herself for a second time. This time she groaned as she drove it home and then proceeded to gently ease it in and out. I knelt, stupidly, with my mouth still open in no doubt as to what was to come. "Ready for more?" She pulled out the shaft with an audible plop and held it so that I could appreciate its syrupy sheen. "Can you deep throat?" She lowered the shaft into my mouth but did not stop until she heard me gag. "You're not trying." After that she toyed with my gag reflex, touching the shaft to the back of throat from time to time only to pull it free at the last moment. The worst of it was her juices which were flowing like honey from a spoon causing me to swallow unnaturally. She kept up the game for half an hour or more periodically stimulating herself and then getting me to lick it clean. By the end my throat was raw and there was still no evidence of her having had an orgasm. "I think it's time that I tried the real thing." She got up and, putting the dildo to one side, she walked to the dressing table. She pulled out the straight-backed chair from in front of it and moved it into the middle of the room. "Sit here and put your hands behind your back." Fit as I was my abused knees almost buckled as I got back to my feet and took a couple of ungainly steps towards the seat. I sat down and clasped my hands behind the back of the chair. She opened her capacious laptop case, took out a pump action dispenser, and squirted a measure of clear liquid into the palm of her hand. Without taking her eyes from mine she rubbed her hands together and came towards me. "They told me that I must not allow you to come, so I'm afraid the pleasure's all mine. You'll stay erect until I say otherwise." Once again I racked my brains. Who the hell were "they" and what was their interest in me? She stood between my legs and reached down to my cock. To begin with the lubricant felt cool against my skin but, as she began to rub along the length of my shaft there was a warming sensation. For a few seconds I sought to defy her but she knew her business and, despite all I had been through, my cock began to slowly unfurl. It took less than a minute to bring me to a full erection. "Very nice...and all mine." She continued to rub me spreading the warming oil evenly along my shaft and then, with one hand, she cupped my balls. The combination of her gentle squeezing and the rising temperature was almost enough to make me come by itself but somewhere inside a mental valve was closed and I knew I would not get to the brink. When she finally took her hands away my erection was throbbing expectantly but she seemed in no hurry. She retrieved her discarded panties from the floor and stretched the filmy material over her fingers. They were already beginning to dry to a white stain and, as I watched she rolled them up into a ball. "Open up." Even as I struggled to disobey my mouth strained open to form a rictus and she pushed the bunched panties through the opening until they had disappeared. The taste was bitter and inescapable. "Close." I obeyed mechanically even as I tried to expel them with my tongue. She gave a quiet laugh and then went across the mini bar to refresh her drink. Watching her, I would have given anything to slake my own thirst. The panties seemed to absorb what little moisture I was capable of producing and I was reduced to dry swallows. She put down her glass and came back to me and I could see that she was mildly surprised to find that my erection standing as proud as ever. "This is just too good." She stepped forward so that she was astride my lap and then I felt her hands directing my cock. Once she had me in place she joined her hands around my neck and slowly slid down groaning as she did so. She was hot inside and I felt her muscles squeezing greedily as she nestled herself into a more comfortable position. She remained still for a moment or two and I was thankful that she was so light. I felt an urge to thrust at her, both to reassert my masculinity and to get some desperately needed relief, but I found myself frozen, awaiting her pleasure. At last she started to move but, as she did so, she leant into me so that her remarkable nipples rubbed against my face with each rise and fall. She was hot but, as she pressed herself to me, she was making me hotter still. I could feel beads of sweat forming at my temples. Her movements were slow and measured as she lifted herself up and down on my shaft with her forearms braced on my shoulders for support. "Do you want to come inside me?" She whispered the words into my ear without missing a beat. The truth was that, much as I hated her, I did want to come but, whilst my cock continued to throb, some essential part of my brain was disengaged. "Does it feel good?" Her voice was husky and, under other circumstances I might have found it arousing, but at that moment her teasing only served to give fuel to my growing anger. "Can you feel that?" She was squeezing my shaft with experienced muscles and I wanted to surrender to the sensations but I could only process them in a clinical fashion. "Are you sure you don't want to come?...I'm getting close...very close." Her movements were becoming less controlled. She was rising and falling more quickly and pushing her pelvis at me. "Oh Yes!" She could rise no more. She began to grind herself down on me and, as her climax took hold, she lifted her feet from the floor. Her shivering body was balanced with my cock as the pivot and I felt her teeth biting none too gently into the back of my neck as she tried to stifle her shriek of pleasure. When it was over she slumped against me and her inanimate form suddenly seemed much heavier. She pulled my head into her chest pressing my nose painfully and making breathing more difficult. I had momentarily forgotten the panties in my mouth which were now completely wet but that only meant that I was swallowing more of her taste. When she finally regained some composure I felt a gentle pressure on my cock and I sensed her surprise that, through it all, I had maintained an unflagging erection. She hesitated for a moment, as though coming to a decision, and then she lifted herself from me. "Get up." As I rose from the chair she immediately took my place sitting with her legs meaningfully parted. "Suck me off." I found it hard to believe that she still had the energy and for half a second I pondered her odd choice of words. I knew that I could not disobey but I tried to focus on my disembodied self will to see if I could examine my predicament from within. I knelt between her legs and, with relief, I spat out her soiled panties. "I guess you could do with a drink...come and get it." She used her fingers to peel herself open and I could see just what an oily mess her sex had become coated as it was with a mixture of lubricant and her own juices. The prospect of going down on her in this state was revolting but I was already drawing nearer. Perhaps it was psychological but the viscous mess seemed to smell stronger and the taste was certainly so. The lubricant itself was a neutral agent and logic told me that it should act to dilute the familiar tang but its cloying properties, as I began to suck it out of her, filled my mouth with a peaty richness. I felt slightly nauseous as I swallowed the first slimy mouthful but my mouth had already formed a seal and my tongue was deep inside as I did as she asked. Fortunately, it did not take long to get her clean but her lust was insatiable and I was soon tasting a fresher outpouring. "Suck harder! Get your tongue on my clit!" I could not do both things at once but it was of little matter. She was almost back at the peak and, as she crossed her legs behind my head and drew me in painfully tight, she started to flood my mouth yet again. This time her orgasm was over very quickly but what it lacked in duration it made up for in violence. Her body rocked with the force of it and my head was pummeled as the powerful tremors were transmitted to her toned thigh muscles. As soon as it was finished she planted a foot on my shoulder and pushed me away from her. "Get yourself dressed." She rose from the chair and immediately went to lie on the bed but I could see that even she had had enough for now and in some way this must have been transmitted to me; at long last my erection began to subside. I dressed quickly, fearing another command, but she only had a few more words to say. "There are two packages there on the table. You'll know what to do with them." Chapter 3 I left the room as quickly as I could but it was a couple of minutes before I was in any condition to drive. I sat behind the wheel breathing hard and desperately trying to work out what had happened to me. When I had finally regained something of my self-possession I drove out of the car park and headed back towards the office. Once there I picked up the parcels that I had been given and realized that the smaller one, which from the plain wrapping appeared to be a CD, had to be posted. Syracuse is Waiting The post office was on the other side of the road and, dodging traffic, I quickly crossed over. At the counter I picked up a pen and seemingly from nowhere an address popped into my mind. I wrote it on the package, brought the appropriate stamps, and left it to be mailed. By the time I got back to my office I found that I had completely forgotten the address details. The second parcel, just a little smaller than a shoe box, was similarly wrapped, and I was tempted to open it but I decided to wait. The most pressing thing was to put through my call to the Bahamas and only after that was done did I relax a little. My contact promised to get what I needed by the following morning. When I went home I took the parcel with me and after I had had a stiff drink I started to unwrap it. Inside the box was something the shape of a soup can but, on closer inspection, I saw that it was constructed in two halves. The upper half was a beaker into which liquid could be poured. The lower half was something of a mystery. It, too, was like a beaker but lying at the bottom, side by side, were two clear plastic rods. I turned it over and over in my hands trying to fathom it out but nothing came to me. Then I heard a voice. It came from inside my head but it was not me. The voice was female and vaguely familiar. I tried to shut it out but it was both insistent and authoritative. Having listened I walked to the kitchen and poured water into the beaker up to a mark that I had not noticed before. It looked to be about ten centilitres full. I carefully carried it back into the living room and suddenly its purpose seemed obvious. I knelt down on the floor and, tipping my head back, I held the device over my face. The pain in my neck, brought on by my exertions earlier in the day, had to be ignored. I put out my tongue and applied pressure where the two rods met one another. When I pressed hard enough I was rewarded with a drop or two of water and I felt a strange elation. I did not know why, I simply knew that it was imperative that I emptied the beaker. It took nearly an hour. I found that if I applied a constant pressure it resulted in a steady flow but I was having to stretch my tongue a long way to make contact with the rods and it was difficult to keep up the effort. By the time I had finished I found that I had been sweating from the exertion That night I unplugged the phone before going to bed and my sleep was fitful. The following morning I was anxious to get to the office but I knew there was something I had to do first. The problem was that I could not remember what needed to be done – until I saw the device. Without thinking I filled it up to the mark and then tipping back my head I set about emptying it again. My tongue protested this new labour but I tried as best I could. This time it took well over an hour and for the last ten minutes my face was locked in a painful cramp. As I drove to the office I had never felt so uneasy in my life. I had certainly been in some tight spots but, for good or bad, at least I was in a position to make my own decisions. Now, I found that I could be betrayed by my own subconscious at any moment. As soon as I got in I ran for the fax machine. In amongst the junk mail and the genuine correspondence I found the fax from the Bahamas. The Trust that I was investigating was itself nested within other Bahamian corporate entities but my contact had been both busy and thorough. He had finally tracked it back to a Panamanian company and, pulling in a favour, he had got me a name. Straight away things started falling into place and I smiled grimly. Now someone was going to pay. The journey was almost seventy miles but, nearly three years on, everything was much as I remembered it. I drove around the camp perimeter to the off site accommodations reserved for officers. The house I wanted was probably the most secluded and certainly offered the best view of the hilly countryside. The was no answer when I rang on the bell and for a moment I was tempted to force an entry but that was tantamount to suicide in full view of one of the most secretive bases in the country. I drove back down the road and spent the next two hours roaming over hills that had previously been familiar from long pack drills. By the time I walked back to the house it was late afternoon and this time there was an answer. "I wondered how long it would take you to find me." Colonel Tewson had hardly changed in three years, even now when out of uniform. "Are you going to invite me in?" The door opened wider and I stepped straight into a living room that still retained a country cottage charm. Now that the moment of confrontation was here I tried to keep my anger in check but I failed. "Perhaps you would like to tell me what the fuck is going on." "I think you mean "What the fuck is going on, ma'am" You are still a reservist and as such subject to military discipline." This rankled more than anything. Katrina Tewson had been a psychologist in civilian life and, on joining the forces, she had assumed an honourary rank which still, nevertheless, had to be respected. She was only a couple of years older than me and yet she held a commission that I could not have aspired to for at least a decade. It would have been easier to take if she had been a plain looking intellectual but she had beauty and brains. She was of average height and build but she had a most striking face. Her deep brown eyes drew you in and held you and her mouth, with full lips and perfect teeth, begged to be kissed. I knew for a fact that, notwithstanding the disparity in military status, every man in the squad, including me, had tried it on with her. "You don't seem frightened ...you ought to be" The menace implicit in my tone was genuine; if what I believed to be true was so then she had much to fear from me. "I'll give you credit for finding me so quickly, after all that's what you do, but you get no marks for making idle threats." I felt my fists slowly clenching. If it became necessary to subdue her then I would not hesitate. "I know that you've played with my mind and now I think I know why." "Do you now? Well let's see what you've learnt. Come and lie on the couch." The leather consulting couch took up one wall of the living room and the sight of it immediately brought back memories. At the time I had found the sessions mundane, almost boring, but now I felt a cold fear at the prospect of doing as she asked. "There's no point fighting it. You will do as I say." I tried to resist the urge but my body was already in motion. The real counseling work took place on the base but she had insisted that the initial sessions were held in her home. This was done, ostensibly, to set a relaxed tone at the outset but, as I drew closer to the couch, I saw flashbacks of events that were both unreal but somehow familiar to me. I saw myself naked on the couch, something which had never happened, but I could also picture Katrina without clothes. No doubt this was something I had experienced in dreams but there was a vividness about this image that could not be denied. I could see her breasts with their pronounced conical tips, her slim waist letting on to flared hips and her well proportioned legs. I could even see the tiny roseate birthmark midway between the deep pit of her navel and the neat triangle of her auburn pubic hair. I shook my head and tried to think clearly but I was already lying prone on the couch with Katrina hovering over me. "Is some of it coming back to you?" As she said it I was overcome with an irrational feeling of claustrophobia and I felt my heart beating a little harder. "They send me the fittest, most able recruits in the country, in short, prime specimens of manhood. How is a woman to resist?" I was not sure how to take this revelation that I had not been the only one. I tried to goad her into telling me more. "You're using us to betray your country." "Not "us" just you. Yes, I had my fun with some of the others, at least, the better looking ones, but you were my special project." "Look, I don't know what you have in mind but it stops right here. I'm going to the authorities with everything I know." She smiled down at me. "You know you were the best looking of all. In part, that's why I chose you; in fact I think I've missed you." Even before she had finished speaking she had started to undo the buttons on her blouse. "What are you doing?" "Isn't it obvious?" She allowed her blouse to slip off her shoulders and she deftly flicked open the fastening of her bra. As it fell to the floor and, as I caught sight of her breasts, I knew that it had not been my imagination. Sometime in the past I had seen her naked. "If you come near me I am going to hurt you." "Don't make idle threats. You know by now that you cannot harm me." She took off her skirt and slipped her panties down her bare legs. "Yes, you can look at me." Up until that point I had been looking at her out of the corner of my eye and had not realized that I was holding my head rigid but now I turned my face towards her. She was standing with her legs slightly apart, confident in her nakedness, running a finger idly through the auburn curls of her pubis. I tried to follow up this new freedom of movement by rising from the couch but I was held like a pin to a magnet. "With the others I simply instilled an overwhelming need to please me. With you, it was more fun to know that you were aware that you were a prisoner of your own subconscious." "You bitch." "You'll have to watch that tongue of yours, which reminds me, how are you getting on with my little training device?" "Go to hell." "Well, if you're not going to tell me, there's one way to find out." She scooted up onto the couch and sat on my rib cage with her knees either side of my head. I tried to keep my face averted but she slowly closed her legs drawing my head round until I was staring at the ceiling. "Now keep it still." She relaxed the grip of her legs and, once again, I found I could not move but her weight, centred on my lungs, was making breathing more difficult. I was almost glad when she slid forward slightly so that her pubis was resting against my chin. "Did you know that one of the deepest memory centers in the brain is associated with your sense of smell? You might not appreciate it but you have retained a scent memory of every woman you ever went down on but amongst those smells we remember most readily are those that we associate with some form of trauma. ...Now, do you remember my scent?" She pressed her fingers against her sex, opening herself, and the subtle smell of her, which had already begun to pervade the room, was suddenly stronger. The lingering feeling of claustrophobia that I had been feeling immediately increased and I felt my heart beating more quickly. "Take a breath" I gulped air as she rose up over me and then, with practiced ease, she sat down on my face. She removed her hand, allowing her labia to close around my nose, and, as she leaned slightly forward, her buttocks sealed my mouth. She did not move. She simply rested there cutting off my breathing. It must have been a full minute before she relented and allowed me another breath. It was a moist, unsatisfactory, lungful but, as she had predicted, it triggered an illusive, fearful, memory. She had done this to me before and I had suffered. She moved forward again and this time stayed still even longer. Every instinct called out to me to fight her off but the panicked commands could not reach my limbs. At last she lifted herself and settled her weight back on my sternum. "Get off of me!" "Begging's good...I like that...it does I for me." Without warning she sealed me off again and I only had time to take in a half-breath. My indignant lungs fought to be filled and I could feel my nose flaring inside her as I sought in vain for air. Without thinking I put out my tongue and licked blindly but somehow I knew that this was not what she wanted. She took her pleasure in control and, in this case, it was literally life and death. She had neutered my free will and now she was exercising the ultimate power. She raised herself again but this time she did not sit back. She remained where she was just centimeters above my face and, as I gasped a desperate breath, it was hot with the aroma of her. "Did you know that you had the best scores of your intake in the free diving drills? No, I suppose not, they like you to work as a team rather than individuals. Still, nearly two minutes is very impressive, are you still in condition?" The question was rhetorical and, whilst I wanted to swear at her, I found I could not answer. Even as I watched she turned herself around and faced down my body. "Let's see if you can go for the record." I felt my pores open and my face was bathed in fresh sweat as I fought my body but it was in vain. Her arse, which had appeared so taut, now took on a velvety softness as it came down and blocked out both light and air. This time she had allowed me to draw an adequate breath but only to put me cruelly to the test. I counted off seconds but by the time I got to thirty I was already struggling. When free diving the tanks were chilled to simulate sea water and this helped to slow the metabolism. Also, we never dived to any great depth and buoyancy worked for us. Now, the pressure on my face was greater and more painful than anything I had experienced in the tanks. It got to a full minute and the pounding pulse in my eardrums started to make me count faster. In the tanks I could release measured amounts of carbon dioxide but not so now. I knew that if I once started to let go I would loose my whole breath. I could no longer count. My lungs were screaming and my whole body was covered with sweat. I tried to relax, to find the trance state that had helped me in the water, but the water had been cool, supportive, her body was hot and physically oppressive. My last hope was that if I remained totally still she might think that I had passed out but she wriggled herself more comfortably into place letting me know that she was not in the least bit fooled. At that point the stars that I was seeing on my eyelids started to dim but my body suddenly found a lease of life. I felt myself starting to spasm as my primal instincts overcame any other commands either conscious or unconscious. For a second or two I think she was caught by surprise but then it must have become obvious that these were simply reflex movements and she started to use them to her advantage. As my head jerked on my rigid neck she rode it down squirming herself across my face. I was just on the point of finally letting go when I felt a new heat and wetness on my face and some part of me registered that she was climaxing. It did not last long. Her body was now being wrenched in the same uncontrolled way as mine and, even before it was over, she remembered to lift herself from me. I took deep choking breaths as she hovered above my face and I could see tiny droplets of moisture clinging to the fine, almost invisible, hairs that covered her cheeks. When she had recovered she got up from the couch and, looking into my eyes, she spoke coldly. "You'll be okay." "I'll kill you for this." "Maybe, but not today. I want you to leave. Come back tomorrow evening and we'll discuss this further." And it was as simple as that. She went upstairs leaving me to get dressed and ten minutes later I was driving away from the cottage with the reek of her still heavy in my nostrils. On the journey back it was as if there were two people in the car. One of us wanted to turn round, to threaten her with serious harm, whilst the other felt an odd calmness at the prospect of getting home. Once home I took a long shower and brushed my teeth twice but I still did not feel clean. I prepared myself a TV dinner but my head was whirling with thoughts and I had no appetite. The sensible thing for me to do would be approach Katrina's superiors with everything I knew or suspected and let them take action but, for all I knew, she may have planted some sort of inhibition preventing me from doing so. I needed to confide in someone and, the more I thought about it, the more obvious the choice became. The phone was answered on the third ring. "Vikki, it's me." "I told you, I don't want to speak to you again." "I'm in trouble. I need your help." Chapter 4 As we drove eastwards towards the barracks I could not help but cast surreptitious glances at Vikki's legs. "Keep your eyes on the road. I'm only here because you've sparked my professional interest." I thought I was over her but, in the six months since I had last seen her, she had, if possible, become even more beautiful and I cursed myself for a fool. We had been engaged for nearly two years when I had a one night stand with her best friend. In truth I was jealous of the successful career she was carving out for herself and irritated that I saw less and less of her as she networked with the right people to get herself noticed. I had hit out at her in the one way that was guaranteed to cause her the most hurt. If anything, my behaviour had only served to spur her on. She was now recognized as one of the U.N.'s senior civil rights lawyers and her job took her all around the globe. As she got out of the car she adjusted the jacket of her business suit and, for a second or two, she struck a subtle pose. She shook out her mane of blonde hair and stood with her leg slightly forward allowing the slit in her skirt to reveal a couple of inches of tantalizing thigh. She could still arouse me and she knew it. Katrina opened the front door and I was pleased to see a momentary look of surprise as she saw Vikki at my side but she recovered quickly and ushered us both inside. We declined drinks and she had us sit together on the sofa whilst she composed herself in an armchair. "So, I guess an introduction would be in order." "I'm Victoria Milburn, I'm her in my capacity as a lawyer." It was subtly put as she was not actually representing me. "And why might he need a lawyer?" "As I understand it you employ hypnotic methods as part of your training regime. The suggestion is that you have abused the trust that was placed in you." Katrina looked at Vikki as though lost in deep contemplation before she spoke again. "You must realize that everything we do here is covered by the Official Secrets Act." "From what I understand you are in no position to hide behind the Act." Katrina smiled. "Alright. Contrary to his orders he has probably told you that we are training Special Forces, the best men and women the services have to offer. Given the nature of their missions there is always a high possibility that they might be captured and, as a consequence, tortured. We train them to use self-hypnosis to disconnect their minds from their bodies to help with the pain." "And you used drugs for this?" "It's necessary to tap into areas of the subconscious that the mind usually guards against. The drugs open the requisite doors." "So, unlike regular hypnosis, it's conceivable that you could make people act against their will?" "Very perceptive. Did he tell you about the Tantric techniques as well?" "Tantric?" "We teach meditation techniques that allow some self control of blood flow. If blood flow can be slowed a wound need not prove fatal. Even a minute or two could make the difference in the field. Of course, blood flow can be useful in other ways." She looked away from Vikki and directly at me. "If I wanted you to have an erection for example." As soon as she said it I felt my cock starting to stir. In seconds it was tenting my trousers to an obvious degree. Syracuse is Waiting "Oh my God." Vikki was starting at my lap with a look of amazement. To her credit she quickly got a grip. "Party tricks aside, what about the information you're passing." "I'm passing? I think the photographs will show that it wasn't me leaving the hotel nor me going into the Post Office." "Don't fuck with me!" Vikki touched my arm gently to prevent any further outbursts. "Let me tell you a little story about your boyfriend here. The recruits here are trained in squads of eight and legend has it that at least one recruit in every squad will be failed. Now with that in mind it stands to reason that each squad will quickly identify their own weak link and they will be sacrificed. On the face of it they are all one of the squad and everyone helps everyone else but in reality, consciously or otherwise, the weakest are marked out. Your boyfriend's squad comprised seven men and one woman. A very exceptional woman. Her physical and mental scores were high even by the standards that we set but she was a woman and so it stood to reason that she must be the weak link. He and she were paired together for a night manoeuver. They had to rendezvous on a Norwegian mountain top but she went lame. She spent the whole night radioing for assistance but he had the only radio tuned to her scrambled frequency. He got back to base and claimed that he had heard nothing. She nearly lost a finger to frostbite and was dropped from the programme." All the guilt that I had harboured over the years welled up in me. I could not deny her thinly veiled accusation but the remainder of my squad had made it perfectly clear that if it was not her then it was going to be me. Vikki looked at me. "Is this true?" "Of course not." She looked into my eyes and she knew. Her expression of concern transformed into one of loathing. She held very strong opinions on women' rights and she had always assumed me to be a staunch supporter of equal opportunities. Katrina watched the interplay with amusement "Does the name Dawkins ring any bells?" I could immediately see her as if it were yesterday. The dark eyes seemingly larger because of her close cropped dark hair and her all too feminine body the appeal of which could not be concealed by the practical army fatigues. As the image came to mind so it slowly metamorphosed until, with a frightening realization, I appreciated that she and the first woman from the hotel were one and the same. Katrina struck whilst the iron was hot. She turned her attention back to Vikki. "It's no coincidence that the worlds' armies are run by men and we have continual conflict. If women got the promotions they deserved and moved into the upper echelons then things would be different. I have made contact with some like minded women and, with the judicious exchange of a little information, we are giving each other a leg up." At that moment I saw that I had lost Vikki. Katrina was ringing all the right bells to appeal to her fundamentally feminist nature. "But why him?" "We need a go between and a male camouflages the feminine nature of our scheme." "But what about...the other things?" "After what he did to Dawkins he deserves to pay a little penance and what better way for him to serve it." Vikki went very quiet and I could almost hear her mind at work. I touched her hand. "Vikki?" She half turned away from me and addressed herself directly to Katrina. "I want to see more." Katrina smiled a victor's smile. "When Dawkins was on the mountain she had a code name and an agreed distress message. She had to radio "Syracuse is waiting"." I heard the words and the world around me seemed to suddenly turn to monochrome. When colour bled back in, I heard laughter slowly growing louder and I found myself standing naked with my hand around my erect cock. "He'll do anything I want?" "Anything. Do you want me to leave you alone together?" "No. Stay, just in case." I tried to talk sense into her but my mouth would not form the words and I stood stupidly keeping my cock rigid with slow strokes of my fingers. My frustration must have been evident from the expression on my face but it elicited no sympathy from Vikki. She looked at me with condescending amusement before turning to Katrina once more. "You know his most annoying habit? He was quite good with his tongue but he was always in a hurry to get it over with; always thinking with his cock." I had no idea that she thought of me as perfunctory. I prided myself on my technique and I knew that I could bring her to the boil. I assumed that she thought of it as I did, foreplay, an "amuse de bouche" before the main course. She always came so violently with my cock inside her that I assumed that that was what she wanted. "Do you mind?" "No, of course not, make yourself comfortable." Vikki had stood, with her fingers at the fastening of her skirt, and now, with Katrina's affirmation, she took it off and laid it over the back of the sofa. I found it almost impossible to believe that they could be so comfortable with one another after such a brief acquaintance. It was a facility that men just simply do not share with women and in this case their bond was almost subconscious. They were two alpha females used to getting what they wanted and recognizing, instinctively, that they could be of value to one another. My eyes were inevitably drawn to the familiar bulge in her sheer panties. If her pubis could be summed up in a word it would be intimidating. Vikki kept her body well toned but her pubic mound was extraordinarily well developed, it looked as if it had done body building all of its own. She underwent regular electrolysis to keep it perfectly smooth but this only served to exaggerate its firm plumpness. She was fully aware of its attraction and, when on the beach or around the pool, she always wore bikini's which were cut in such a way as to draw attention. Men could not help but look and even other women appeared envious. It was as though she exuded womanhood. She waited until I cast my eyes downwards, as she knew I inevitably would, and then she slowly peeled her panties down her legs but, as she did so, I noticed that she turned very slightly towards Katrina. It might have been interpreted as some form of subconscious challenge but Katrina seemed unmoved. She took in Vikki's semi nakedness at a glance and only the faintest raising of an eyebrow betrayed the fact that she might have been impressed with the view. She sat back down on the sofa, her legs spread with a casual nonchalance usually reserved for someone secure in a long term relationship. "Come and eat me." I had worshipped at that particular shrine so many times but, no matter how often, I still hated to be on my knees. When we were lying in bed together there was some form of equality but with her sitting and me kneeling there was a clear inference and Vikki had emphasized it in the expressive way that she had said those four simple words. Vikki's disloyalty made me even more determined to defy her but her words echoed in my head becoming a mantra against which I was powerless. Her smile broadened as she watched me take a first stumbling step and once that step was taken there was no going back. I went down to my knees and leant forward. I could feel the heat radiating from her sex, which had the roundness of a baked apple, and, as I made one final attempt to resist, it split open as it yielded to the pressure of her excitement. I was lost. I sealed my mouth over her pudenda and pushed my tongue into the warm pulp where the taste was not cinnamon but the familiar tartness of her arousal. I wormed further in, easing her deep lying labia further apart, and then I began to suck gently. She immediately put her hand on my head but this was not the recognizable touch of loving encouragement. Instead, she twined her fingers in my hair and pulled me more tightly to her signaling me to get my tongue deeper still. For the next few minutes it felt like a conflict. I had no choice but to try and please her but she was using her well trained muscles to squeeze me unmercifully as she worked towards her own satisfaction. Under normal circumstances she would be unashamedly noisy but, probably due to Katrina's presence, she was showing a degree of restraint. The only indication I had was an occasional, involuntary, guttural groan. It took nearly fifteen minutes before she closed her legs about my head and gave in to a wrenching orgasm. Her thighs, hot and slick with perspiration, held me in place for a long time afterwards and prevented me from following their laughter punctuated conversation. When, finally, she allowed herself to relax I extricated my aching tongue but she quickly clamped me once again. "Oh no you don't. You're not finished yet." I remained still, notwithstanding my instincts, and yet again the depth of my conditioning alarmed me. I was not just responding to specific commands I was obeying in anticipation. I was a thinking automaton. Glasses of wine had materialized and Vikki took a long sip from her chilled glass before speaking once more. "Start again. Concentrate on my clit." Her sex was relaxed and slightly open revealing the narrow lips which were still flushed pink with excitement. In my mind I fell upon her with an uncharacteristic violence, hurting her even as I brought her pleasure, but the thought was reined in even as it was formed and I took up my place with the docility of a domestic pet. My natural instinct would have been to use my fingers to make her clitoris available to my tongue but, without knowing why, I understood that I was to use only my mouth. I started by licking gently at her labia which were still greasy with her juice and, over the next few minutes, they seemed to swell as her sex opened further and her scent grew richer. "This is so incredible. How many men have you done this to?" "I wouldn't like to say." "How long does it last?" "For as long as I want it to." "Can you undo it?" "If I want to." "So have you?....Released anyone?" Katrina did not reply but simply laughed. "You haven't have you? They're all still out there. You could just pick up the phone..." The sentence remained uncompleted but the implication was not lost on me. "Can they not find someone else to reverse the conditioning? There must be other experts." All the while this conversation went on I laboured with my tongue but Vikki acted as though I was not even there. She took occasional sips from her glass as she gave her attention to Katrina. "One of them tried. He found a hypno-therapist in the States. Do you know what I did to him?" She said this with a hint of malicious glee in her voice and I felt Vikki tense with excitement as she waited to hear more. "He had the gall to phone me when he returned to gloat about his triumph. It only took him a few seconds to realize what a mistake he had made. The poor fool thought that there was only one trigger phrase but how was he to know? Once I took him under I made sure he was addicted to me or, more particularly to the taste and smell of me. He can never achieve orgasm unless he has his face buried firmly between my legs." "You can do that?" "Men's cocks are ridiculously easy to control." As she said it I was aware of both of them looking down at me to where my erection still raged undiminished and unfulfilled. "So, do you let him?...Have an orgasm?" "I told him what I had done to him and he lasted about a week; then he turned up here begging my forgiveness. I let him go down on me one last time but I didn't let him come." "And now?" "I sent him away but I made him forget who I am. He's out there now with an uncontrollable and desperate urge to bring me pleasure but no way of knowing where to find me. I wouldn't be surprised if he wound up in an asylum." As I listened to her I grew more and more appalled but I also felt that she had overplayed her hand. Vikki has a fundamentally humanitarian spirit and I was sure that she would be revolted by Katrina's story but even before it came to a close she pulled at my hair drawing me on to her clitoris after which it was only a matter of seconds before she reached a second shattering climax. She held me there whilst her sex pulsed its last few drops of moisture and then she let me go. I tried to slink away unnoticed but she brought me up short. "Do you want a turn?" "Why not. Come here." My tongue was sore and swollen, my face was sore from repeated wetting and my knees were sore from the hardwood floor on which I had been kneeling but still I did as she asked. I feared that her command over me was somehow growing insidiously stronger. She did not remove her skirt. She lifted herself slightly and slipped off her panties before making herself comfortable with her legs apart. She had seemed cool and detached the whole time that I had been serving Vikki but now that I knelt once more with my face inches from her sex I knew it had been a charade. There was a dark, wet, line drawn through the centre of her auburn curls and a pearl of moisture was trailing its way down her perineum. Her fragrance seeped around me like an invisible mist and it was obvious that she had been awaiting this moment. I swallowed, my mouth still coated with Vikki's taste, and tried to back away but now she did not even have to put it into words. My treacherous mind was filling in the blanks and I knew what I had to do. I leaned in and eased my tongue into the sodden thicket. I felt the rasp of wiry hairs as I tried to lick her open fighting my way through to her thick labia which themselves were glistening with moisture. With Vikki I could feel the shape of her sex, defined by its firmness, but Katrina's was a complete contrast. Her labia seemed to squirm beneath my tongue almost playfully, at one moment beckoning me like a matadors cape only to slip away at the last. She, herself, remained unmoving as I turned my tongue slightly in an effort to split her. In the end she grew impatient and she pressed with a finger on either side of her sex to show me the way. With her labia parted I worked my tongue inwards and upwards to be greeted with a fresh surge of moisture which momentarily threatened to choke me. I managed to keep control and homed in on her clitoris which, notwithstanding her excitement, was still trapped in its fleshy cave. I used the tip of my tongue to coax it but it did not entirely free itself. It grew firmer by degrees and peeped out more boldly but the area that was open to my tongue seemed particularly sensitive. It did not take long for her to reach an initial climax but this was very much a precursor. She began to pant, as though in labour, and I kept my tongue at work but as her breathing returned to normal her sex grew hotter and wetter and I knew she had more to give. As I continued to lick in slow circles she stayed poised on the plateau that I had taken her to but then she began a final ascent. She moved forward bringing herself closer to the edge of the chair opening her legs more widely as she did so. The signal was not lost on me and I began to lick more firmly taking in the whole area of her clitoris with broad sweeps of my tongue. Over the next two or three minutes she started to soar higher and higher her muscles tensing so much that they must have threatened to cramp. I suspected that, in part, the tension was due to her trying not to cry out, to show Vikki that she was in control, but as she finally surrendered to her bodies' need she closed her eyes and came with a series of muted grunts, each one punctuated by a tiny ejaculation of moisture. When it was over I sat back on my haunches completely spent. In the not too distant past I had completed triathlons but my body had never ached as it did now. "How does he compare?" Katrina took a deep breath and composed herself before replying. "To the others? Not bad, a little more endurance would be useful, but I'm working on that. Sometimes they can be a little over enthusiastic in their efforts to please but he is going to be my masterwork. He is going to learn ever nuance of a women's body. He will not need telling, he will read all the signals. He will know when to go fast, when to go slow, when to go deep. When I've finished with him he will be able to use his mouth for hours to bring women the ultimate pleasure." I heard all this, as I was intended to, with rising anger but I was rooted to the spot and, as I tried to swear my mouth would not cooperate. Even as my rage burned some rational part of my mind took in the bizarreness of the scene from a standpoint that seemed disembodied. Here was I, a prime specimen of masculinity, pinned by the power of another's mind whilst they discussed me like a laboratory experiment. I wanted to shout at them, to tell them to look at themselves, at least to get them to acknowledge the abnormal situation. Vikki was sitting, still naked form the waist down, but her legs crossed pose just made her seem sexier than ever. Katrina, for her part, sat with her skirt rucked up casually running her fingers through her matted pubic curls as though it were the most natural thing in the world. My train of thought caused me to lose the thread of the conversation and I forced myself to pay attention. I was desperate for any clues which might help me out of my predicament. "How far can you take him?" "What do you mean?" Vikki paused slightly before replying. "Well, when we were together, there were certain things he would never do." In the next few seconds something almost telepathic passed between them and then Katrina smiled. "Oh, he'll do anything...anything you want." I knew. I knew exactly what she wanted and I almost drew blood as I dug my nails into the palms of my hands. I hoped that self inflicted pain would somehow bring my body back under control but Vikki was already playfully beckoning me with her finger. I could feel the tendons standing out on my neck as I tried to hold myself back but I was moving towards her as in a dream. As I drew nearer she unfolded her legs languorously and then lifted them so that her heels were resting on the seat of the sofa. She looked as if she was preparing to give birth but it was not her sex that she was offering up. "You know what I want..." She brought her hands down and gently prised open the taut hemispheres of her arse to reveal the perfect starfish that lay within. I knew that other guys were prepared to debase themselves in this way but it was something I just could not do...or so I thought. She had planted a seed of a command and it was already taking root. Even as my stomach threatened to turn over I was moving closer and I could not look away from the puckered grey-pink opening. The last few inches seemed like a chasm but the gap inexorably closed sealing my fate. She gasped at the first tentative touch of my tongue whilst I absorbed the taste of slightly stale sweat and the leakings of her sex. I licked along the clearly defined furrow, avoiding the thing itself but she knew, as I did, that I was only delaying the inevitable. She began to groan uncaringly and, as her excitement mounted, so did my compulsion to break down the final barrier. I closed my eyes and licked more boldly taking in the petite depression with each long sweep of my tongue For the next minute or two I prayed that this would be enough and, as her breathing grew more ragged, it seemed that my prayers may have been answered but then, with a single word, my world became darkness. "Inside..." She whispered the word hoarsely, expectantly, and notwithstanding my total revulsion I was already pointing my tongue. Syracuse is Waiting I held a breath and then applied myself. As I scanned the surface of her skin with my tongue I was surprised by the firm texture of the muscle opening which was not unlike an erect nipple but it was with relief that I found it totally unyielding; there was no way I could do as she wanted. "Do it!" There was almost a hint of desperation in her tone but nevertheless it was a terse order and it had the desired effect. I pushed more firmly and was shocked to feel the opening relax for an instant and then pinch at the tip of my tongue. I flinched away momentarily but quickly tried again. In the next few seconds I was put in mind of a boa constrictor swallowing prey. As I pushed with my tongue she opened up to greet me and once past the tight portal it was drawn in and slid easily the rest of the way. "Oh God!" She could not believe that I could actually be brought to do it and now I could feel her internal muscles pulsating with pleasure. We stayed frozen for a few seconds, me with my tongue rooted deep inside, and she reveling in her new found power. The taste was not as bad I feared. It was slightly musty, like stale bread, but my senses were being slowly overwhelmed by her reeking sex. "Deeper!" I tried. I sealed my mouth to her and stretched my tongue until it felt as though it would be pulled out by the root but she was heedless of my suffering. She had her fingers on her clitoris and, as she rubbed ever more quickly, a steady trickle of moisture leaked from her and found its way inexorably into my straining mouth. Fortunately, the novelty of this new excitement quickly brought her to the edge but, as she started to come, my tongue was squeezed more persistently than an empty toothpaste tube. She did not release me until she was completely spent by which time, perversely, my tongue felt twice its normal size. "Was that as good as it looked?" "It was incredible." "Then perhaps I had better try it ...." Chapter 5 The journey back passed almost in silence. I wanted to have it out with her but I could not trust myself not to break her neck, assuming that that particular urge had not already been suppressed. Vikki spoke just once and I took her question as rhetorical. "How could you have done that to that poor girl?" The mention of Dawkins reawaked my fears about the depth of my conditioning. I had been trained to remember faces and yet her identity had been veiled from me until Katrina had chosen to reveal it. I was also fearful of the fact that they had made me act with only indirect commands. Just how far could they take me? I dropped Vikki at her flat and drove off without a goodbye. I already had the outline of a plan in mind and I wanted to get started. At home, the first thing I did was to turn off the phone and then I began to pack. I was going to book a ticket to France first thing in the morning and, once there I would do my research. I knew that Katrina had told the story of the guy who had tried to undo his conditioning as a warning but the sort of person I had in mind would not be found in the yellow pages. I went to bed early and fell off to sleep quickly but after a couple of hours I awoke. I felt an urge and my first instinct was to head for the bathroom but once there I could not use the toilet. Only as I caught sight of Katrina's confounded contraption sitting on the shelf did I realize what the urge really was. I closed the door and went back to bed determined to ignore it but after another hour sleep would still not come. I felt fidgety, agitated and felt unbearably hot. These feelings were purely physical and I could get the better of them but the trouble was that I was going to need all my faculties over the next day or two and insomnia was not going to help. In the end I did the only rational thing I could. I went back to the bathroom, filled the device, and for the next hour I put my aching tongue back to work. I went back to bed and slept until six a.m. After a quick shower and shave I phoned for a taxi and by seven I was queuing for a ticket. I had just a few minutes to spare which gave me time for the one phone call I needed to make. I dialed impatiently and then realized my mistake. "Syracuse is waiting." I could not believe what a fool I had been. I tried to cut the connection but the phone seemed glued to my ear and my hands would not cooperate. "I hope you didn't get too far. I need you to do a personal favour for my cousin. Here is what I want you to do..." It seemed perfectly natural to me to kill the next four hours sitting on the concourse. I had some breakfast and then bought myself a newspaper and a paperback. At exactly eleven a.m. I went outside and found myself a taxi The journey was long and expensive and took us out into open countryside. We finally pulled up at an impressive pair of security gates through which I could see a tastefully appointed Georgian house off in the distance. The guard at the gate would not let the taxi go any further and so I unloaded my luggage and dumped it unceremoniously at the gate house before proceeding on foot. A, broad, well kept gravel road led the quarter mile to the house itself which, judging from the number of windows, probably ran to eight bedrooms or more. Once at the front door I tugged on the old fashioned bell pull and was mildly disappointed when I heard a very modern bell sounding somewhere in the depths of the house. After a second pull the door had still not been answered and I decided to try the back of the house. The ground fell away to the rear and in the near distance there was a paddock in which someone on horseback was practicing over a very professional set of jumps. The rider caught sight of me and raised an arm to acknowledge my presence; two minutes later the horse was cantering towards me. The rider, fully kitted out in red hunting jacket, jodhpurs and riding boots, pulled up a few yards short. "Follow me to the stables." The voice was female and the tone peremptory and I walked after her retreating form as she trotted across to a small, modern, stable block that stood apart from the house. I arrived just as she was dismounting and she paused for an instant longer than necessary as though she could feel my gaze fixed on her impressive seat. She unfastened her riding helmet and set it down before shaking out an impressive mane of dark curls. This had to be Katrina's cousin. The family resemblance was there. She had the same dark eyes and full mouth but the face that I was now looking into was familiar in an altogether different way. She must have been in her forties but she still was still the same arresting beauty that my father had ogled on a Saturday evening as he tuned in to his favourite detective show. She smiled as she saw the look of recognition in my eyes. "Katrina wasn't lying. You're quite a specimen" As she spoke she picked up a crisp towel, took a seat on a straw bail, and patted her glowing face. "Come and help me with these boots. I knelt down and she lifted up her leg so that I could get a purchase on the expensive leather. "Why am I here?" "Were you not told not to speak unless spoken to?" The answer was that I had not been but my mind was already interpreting her question as a desire and I was struck silent. As I tugged off the boots I thought about running but I immediately felt a wave of guilt, a feeling that I was letting her down. With her boots removed she stood up and unfastened her jodhpurs. "Help me with these." It was no easy task. The material was skin tight and she had been perspiring. I had to work them down her legs by degrees whilst trying to ignore the fact that she was not wearing panties. "You know what they say about women on horseback, what a turn on it is? Well they are absolutely right. I've already come once but now you're available..." She sat back down on the bale with her legs brazenly spread and I was left to ponder the exchanges that had brought us to this point. Had Katrina simply picked up the phone and told her cousin that she could provide a man who would do anything she asked? Surely, her cousin would have considered it a joke? But here she was waiting expectantly as though it were her natural birthright. For a fleeting second I thought about standing up and forcing myself on her but I knew, full well, exactly what was expected of me. I leant in towards her and the whole atmosphere was equine; the smell of fresh straw, leather and saddle soap, and the fact that her sex was demarked by a narrow mane of dark hair. That she was aroused could not be in doubt. Her inner thighs were hot and flushed and her labia looked tired but at the first touch of my tongue they began to sleepily unfurl as they found their second wind. "I like that..." Her will was my command and I carried on licking along her prominent lips pausing occasionally to draw them gently into my mouth. The taste was almost rank, a mixture of her essence, sweat and leather, but as she became more turned on so it grew fresher but that made my task no less unpalatable. Once or twice I tried to venture upwards but she was not having it and then I felt a sharp sting on my lower back. She had picked up her previously discarded riding crop and now she was using it to playfully urge me on. "I'll soon have you schooled. Let me feel your tongue inside." I pushed through her outer folds to a beyond that was hot, wet and somehow ill defined. Over the years she had been linked with many men, actors and otherwise, and I wondered how many of them she had had on their knees where I was now. She was slapping me with the crop at regular intervals but every now and again she would administer a sharper snap. She sensed my growing anger but she seemed to be reveling in it. "What a better place the world would be if all men could be trained like horses." Finally, her carnal needs overcame her amusement and she drew me up on to her clitoris. Instinctively, following the unwanted urge to bring her pleasure, I wanted to use my fingers but these women seemed to share a common bond. They wanted me to use my mouth alone with all the degree of submission that the act portended. She came quickly jerking herself into my face as though she was still in the saddle and then the moment passed and she simply kicked me away. She got up from the bale and stripped out of the remainder of her clothes strewing them nonchalantly onto the floor and then, reading my thoughts, she spoke. "One of the girls from the village will be up shortly. She'll groom the horse and tidy everything up. I let her ride if I am away. Follow me." She walked with the poise of a woman happy with her body and, even at forty, it was a body to be proud of. At the end of the block was a shower stall and she stepped in without bothering to close the door. For a couple of minutes she seemed content to simply stand under the cascading jets but then she set to washing her hair a process that took a further quarter of an hour. I simply stood, wreathed in steam, and watched. "Come and sponge me down." She handed me a large natural sponge and a bottle of shower gel and over the next few minutes my clothes became soaked as I tended to her but I hardly noticed as she outlined her plans for me. "In six weeks from now I am taking my theatre company to Beijing. We will be there for seven days performing Shakespeare and Ibsen. You will be coming along, ostensibly in the capacity of my personal security advisor. In reality, Katrina wants you to meet someone. She says you will know exactly what to do." This was the last thing I had expected to hear.. I had harboured hopes that Katrina would consider her revenge complete before very much longer but this suggested that she had some sinister long term plans for me. My mind raced. If Katrina thought that I could slip into China unnoticed than she was doing their security services a grave injustice. My military background itself might be a sufficient prohibition but I was willing to bet that they would have a special dossier on me. At best they would refuse to issue a visa. At worst they would let me in but then find a pretext for detaining me. As I digested the implications she stepped out of the shower and touched her wet hand to my crotch where I was sporting a vigorous erection. The problem was that I had not even been aware of it. I hated her for what she was doing to me but some part of my mind had decided that she would be flattered by my obvious excitement. She stepped away from me and toweled herself down before donning a short, white, silk robe and a pair of comfortable mules. "Come with me. It's time for you to start paying back what Katrina owes me for this." She led me the short distance across the courtyard to the back door of the house. "Take those wet clothes off before you come in. Leave them at the door." I did as she asked and followed her in but immediately I did so I had to make a hasty effort to cover myself. There was a woman, small, uniformed, mopping the stone tiled floor. "Get a move on. Don't worry about Dahlia." I found it worrying that the maid was far less put out than I was. It seemed that the sight of a naked man padding through the house was nothing out of the ordinary. I continued to follow but she suddenly pulled up short. "Dahlia, is she up?" "Yes ma'am. She's just finished in the shower." I was led right through the house and then up a wide staircase. "Enjoying the view?" She was sashaying her way up in front of me and I had been caught taking an instinctively furtive peek. We arrived at a sumptuously appointed bedroom with a pair of tall windows which gave a spectacular view over the countryside to the rear of the house but I was given no time to appreciate it. "Is this him?" I turned at the sound of the voice and I could not disguise my surprise. Up until that moment I had completely forgotten about her daughter. The beautiful "wild child" had made herself the darling of the tabloid press and now, seeing her in the flesh, the resemblance to her mother in her heyday was remarkable. The newspapers usually caught her arriving at events or leaving nightclubs the worse for wear but none of the pictures did her true justice. She was a little taller than her mother and slightly larger busted but it was her eyes that held my attention. They were wide, dark blue, bespeaking innocence, but as she held my gaze there was a hint of mischievousness, a suggestion of a worldly knowledge beyond her years. "Yes, this is him." "Does he know?" "No, but he won't complain." The younger woman gave an involuntary squeal of excitement but then gathered herself and spoke again. "I want to make a start. How does it work?" "He will do whatever he is told to do and he will not speak unless you want him to." At that moment the only thought in my mind was that most men in the country would be willing to go down on this young beauty and now I was going to be forced to do it and no one would ever believe me. She was undressed to the same degree as her mother. She, too, was wearing a short robe that left nothing to the imagination and with a brazen lack of modesty she undid the loosely tied belt and allowed the silky material to fall from her body. At different times the paparazzi had caught her going topless on beaches around the world and I had ogled the photo's as much as the next man but her breasts were magnificent. They were solid weighty globes with dark nipples that were almost perfect circles. Nature had given her what other women would spend a fortune to achieve. She was definitely not a beanpole. She shared her mother's classic curves and I noted that, uncharacteristically for a fashionable young woman, she maintained a lush growth of pubic hair. I refused to catch her eye, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing I was suitably impressed, but I could not control my body's natural response and for the first time in days, it seemed, I felt myself coming to a natural erection. "Go and stand by the bed." The voice of authority came to her as naturally as it did to her mother and as I turned to do as I was told I saw that she was proffering a gift wrapped box to her daughter. "Happy eighteenth my darling." Behind me now there was another squeal and the sound of impatient unwrapping. "Oh my God! It has a choice." "They simply click on but this one is recommended for beginners." I desperately wanted to turn around and see what was going on as they dissolved into peals of laughter but, once again, I was a captive, pinned in place simply because I knew it was wanted of me. I felt her mother's warm hand on my shoulder and then her mouth whispering at my ear. "It's hard to know what to get the girl who has everything but there was one wish I could fulfill. Her father left me because he found his occasional fondness for other men was more than just an impulse. We both found that hard to believe. How could a man married to one of the most desirable women in the country find greater pleasure with someone of the same sex? What pleasure is there in it? Well now we can find out for ourselves." At that moment I felt a knot of fearful anger and I did turn my head. Her daughter was standing, laughing, with a web of straps around her hips and thighs and a pink rubber phallus jutting out obscenely from her crotch. In truth, it was short and slim, probably no thicker than my middle finger, but the whole idea repulsed me. "Bend over the bed. Your arse is mine." I literally snorted with effort as I tried to rebel but her mothers hand at the back of my neck was insistent and irresistible. She pushed me down until my forehead was touching the counterpane and I had never been so conscious of my own vulnerability. I felt myself breaking into a sweat as I waited for the inevitable but then I was startled by the sudden loudness of an aerosol. My buttocks were being sprayed with a cooling liquid which was to act as a lubricant. Her fingers were slimmer than her mothers as she tentatively took hold of my hips and then, despite her renewed laughter, she seemed at a loss. The phallus was prodding at my ball sac and she needed her mothers helping hand to position it properly. It seemed, then, that the greater obscenity was not what they had in mind for me but the very fact that they were mother and daughter. "Now?" "Yes, push gently." My body resisted simply because it could not relax. She pushed once or twice sliding almost comically away from her target but then her mother took charge again holding it steady. "Pull yourself onto him." It occurred to me, at that moment, that she had done it before, that she had already found the answer to her own question and this was more about empowerment, a means of demonstrating to her daughter the weakness of men. She held my hips more positively and then, with a grunt of effort, she broke through. The pain was not as great as I feared, I had, after all, been subjected to some very stringent medical examinations, but I had never had anything so deep and the discomfort was excruciating. "How does it feel?" By way of reply she shifted her hips moving the thing around inside me. "Quite nice against my clit." She slowly withdrew and then pushed back in again as her mother stroked the back of my head. "You can be a little rougher than that. He's a big boy. He can take it." For the next couple of minutes she worked the thing in and out breaking now and again only to giggle. Fortunately, notwithstanding her mother's exhortation, she was careful but the feeling of violation almost made me sick. "You know what? This doesn't do it for me."