0 comments/  11674 views/  5 favorites

The Lesser Evil Ch. 01

By: bbonz1



Dear Readers,

This story is fiction and contains seemingly non-consensual sexual situations. If this subject matter bothers you, please look elsewhere for erotic stimulation. All others, please enjoy and comment if you like.



Kyra awoke with a start, then blinked a few times to orient herself. She had an itch, an annoying one, that seemed to be moving from one spot to another. She reached down to scratch, only to find that her arms wouldn't move. And try as she might, she couldn't see past the blackness before her eyes. The itch moved again, this time to her inner thighs. What if it was some bug or creepy-crawly? Why couldn't she move her hands to kill it? She could feel the first twinges of panic, but with a focus of will forced them down. She'd find a way out of this predicament, if she only kept her wits about her. 

She started a mental checklist. First, was she sure that she was truly awake? She felt awake, and the fact that she could make a mental checklist was a promising sign. Second, was she really locked into place? She tried wiggling her toes, and found she could. Same with her fingers. She could turn her head from side to side. But she couldn't lift her legs, arms or torso. This attempt did reveal something interesting. She could feel soft cloth against her back. All of her skin, with no discernible folds or creases pressing against her. She was naked! It wasn't just the cloth against her skin that told her that. It was a feeling in her gut, too. And it felt plainly clear that she was uncovered on top, as well. Bare to the world. She could almost see herself in her imagination. Her body stretched and bound spread-eagle on the bed. Her breasts forming firm mounds against the plane of her chest, the nipples hard and erect in the cold air. Tom, her husband, was always complimenting her on her breasts. Thirty-four C, without a bit of sag to them. She could even imagine her dark hair strewn out behind her head, sexily messy. She shivered slightly at the implications, then set that image aside.

Third, the blackness. Why couldn't she perceive the slightest bit of light? Even in their bedroom on a moonless night there was still light from the clock and outdoors. It'd be hard to make someplace as dark as this. A windowless closet? Except it felt like she was laying on a bed. Which left her to conclude that she was wearing some sort of a mask. Something to cover her eyes. Though she couldn't feel it. And couldn't understand why not.

She tried to remember what had come before. She and Tom had been drinking margaritas and watching a movie. The sexual innuendoes had been flying. She remembered a doorbell. Was it real or part of the movie? Tom had gotten up to answer it. She had loosened her top. Then, nothing.

With that, it all fell together. She'd passed out. Tom had taken advantage of the situation to try out some bondage, which he'd been pressing her to try. He'd stripped her. Laid her on the bed. Roped her down. Blindfolded her. Then what? He wasn't the type to take advantage when she was passed out. So he'd waited until she was awake? She was awake now. She opened her mouth to let him know, but nothing came out. She couldn't speak! She felt around with her tongue. No obstructions, no gags, none of the paraphernalia that she'd seen in Tom's photos from the internet. Her mouth wasn't taped shut. She could feel it moving as she tried to speak. It was just that nothing was coming out. Or, maybe, her ears were covered? Weird that she hadn't heard any noises since waking up. She moved her head from side to side. Yes. She could hear her hair wisping across the fabric. And it didn't feel like her ears were covered. So if it wasn't her ears, it had to be her voice.

Kyra shook her head back and forth violently, hoping it would alert Tom that she was conscious again. Where was he? In her mind's eye, she now saw herself strapped naked on the bed with Tom passed out beside her. She might be left here for hours! Just as that despairing thought entered her mind, she felt the itch again. A tickling. In the area between her legs! Was it a spider walking all over her body? The idea made her shudder. She concentrated harder. No, it felt more like something slipping through her pubic hairs. As though something were brushing the tops, idly circling back and forth. Tom's fingers? Or his manhood? She'd know soon enough, if she felt the familiar touch of his hard cock outside her pussy. Pressing through the lips, seeking and finding her hole. She could feel the air moving over her skin now, confirming her theory that she was nude. And she could tell that her legs were spread open, leaving her as vulnerable as a woman could be. He was awake. And he had to know that she was awake. So when was he going to get to it? Or was he just going to torture her like this?

Suddenly, a tremendous buzzing filled Kyra's head. Not sounding in her ears, but reverberating in her brain. It was so distracting she could think of nothing else, just the ratcheting that had no pattern or purpose. The sensation between her legs dropped away, and it was as if she was transported to another place. The buzzing abruptly shut off, and it now felt as though she was floating in space. She could see again, too, though she'd never seen anything like this. Floating around her were small motes of light against a black backdrop. It looked almost as if the stars in the sky had been set adrift, and she was laying smack in the middle of it. At first, the number of motes appeared endless. But after examining them more closely, she could see they were floating within a sphere. 

There was something both seductive and ominous about the motes, too. They felt familiar to her, somehow. As if she'd seen them before but had forgotten when. One was drifting towards her at that very moment. She lifted her arm... Huh? She could lift her arms and legs vertically, but she couldn't close her legs, nor move her hand to feel if she was indeed naked. Curious. The mote drifted closer. On impulse, she reached out to touch it.

With a jolt, she found herself looking up into the faces of three men. Strangers to her. At the same moment, the buzzing returned to her head, blocking out all wonder at how she'd gotten there and what she was doing. She felt both of herself and outside herself at the same time. She could see what she was seeing, but couldn't control what she looked at or how she reacted. She was an observer in her own body. The men's faces were contorted with laughter, but not a single sound penetrated the black noise in her brain. She looked down, and the observer part of her was surprised to see that the men's pants and shorts were bunched around their ankles, and their semi-erect cocks were only inches from her face. She was on her knees! She looked down at herself. She was topless, her black dress and black bra pushed down to her waist! Below that, the skirt portion was scrunched up to reveal her black panties. Her breasts glinted oddly in the light, as though covered with oil. Each was covered in red marks. How had that happened? It looked like teeth marks. From these men? 

One of the men bent and spoke briefly in her ear. She couldn't hear or understand the words, but she was suddenly seized by an incredible urge to pull their cocks into her mouth and suck them off. No, not an urge. A need so profound that it literally made her shake with desire. She needed the cum from those cocks to slake the incredible fire that had just flared up between her legs. She needed to get them hard. Needed to suck them off. And needed to drown her flames with their pearly white hot cum. She needed it to coat her tongue, to cover her face, to trickle down her throat. And she needed it at that very moment, without a second to spare.

She bent forward and urgently captured the nearest cock inside her mouth. It was already semi-hard and tasted of sweat, but she didn't care. Soon it would be hard enough, and then hot enough, and then bursting with the nectar that she craved. She pressed her attack, sucking hard at the flesh inside her mouth. She could feel herself moaning with desire but couldn't hear it. She could see the men's lips moving as they writhed in pleasure but couldn't understand them. She heard only the buzzing and felt only the urge. Just as she'd gotten the first cock slick with spit and had achieved a head-bobbing rhythm, another of the men pulled her away and positioned his cock for sucking. After repeating her efforts on this shorter but thicker member, a yank of her hair pulled her to the next cock. On and on it continued, as she licked, sucked and kissed the cocks and balls of three strangers, desperate that they might bless her with their boiling hot cum. 

Kyra had just sensed that they were nearing their peak when one of the men bent and whispered in her ear. Again she couldn't quite grasp the sound or make sense of the words. But the effect was as devastating as a grenade in a small room. Now she not only needed to get the cum from their cocks. She also needed to get herself off. To rub her pussy until she exploded. Desperately, she pulled her panties to the side so she could get at her cunt and clit. The urge to suck hadn't abated though, and she tried to keep sucking the cock imprisoned in her mouth. But her panties kept slipping back, and she couldn't maintain a rhythm on either end. She almost wept with appreciation when one of the men bent and helped remove her panties. And she almost passed out with pleasure as he let his fingers linger within the folds of her pussy, sending an electric shock to the core of her sexuality. 

She spent the next few minutes alternating between sucking and stroking their cocks, and frantically fingering herself, jumping from one to the other depending on which urge was the strongest. It was maddeningly frustrating, as both urges were evenly matched, and to try and ignore one simply created a desperation in her that was nearly unbearable. She had to suck and masturbate simultaneously, no matter how that might look to the men in front of her. In fact, she had no concern at all as to how it might look. She was so desperate to please them and herself that she would've done it in front of a stadium full of people. 

Suddenly, a splash of liquid hit her right cheek! She cried out in alarm. The man on the end was blowing his load and she wasn't ready to catch it. Her job, she knew, wasn't just to get him off. It was to take his whole load in her mouth and swallow it down. Abandoning the other two men for the moment, she quickly opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, hopefully giving the man a target to shoot for. The next spurt landed square on her tongue and a sharp dagger of pleasure stabbed through her pussy, sending her much closer to the edge of her own orgasm. His cum tasted very salty and musky, but for as much euphoria as it brought her, she'd be willing to eat it for every meal of the day. 

She pushed her hands between her legs, frantically pawing at her clit and pussy as she just as frantically licked the remaining jizz from his bobbing cock. The taste and pleasure of it was indescribable; for a moment the two desires were finally evenly balanced. That ended quickly when the man on the other end pulled on her head, twisting her head around until she faced him. Within three strong strokes, a geyser of cum was gushing onto her face, coating her skin from her forehead down to her chin. The weight of it startled her; almost immediately she could feel it beginning to slide and drip down her face. The compulsion to eat it overtook her again, once again overwhelming her craving to get off. With fingers sopping wet with her juices, she shoveled his nectar into her mouth, rolling it over with her tongue as wave after wave of bliss rolled through her body. 

Finally she turned her attention to the man in the middle. His dick was short and average, except for a pronounced curve to the left. Unlike his two friends, he evidently had no intention of jacking himself off at the end. Instead, he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her close, jamming his cock between her lips. In seconds he was roughly fucking her mouth, his strokes so hard and quick that it felt like he might be bruising the back of her throat. She had to consciously push her tongue out of the way to avoid getting it pinched between her teeth. 

When he suddenly stopped banging her mouth, she instinctively started sucking on him. His cum shot straight against the back of her throat, causing her to gag momentarily. Still she kept at it, her cheeks puckering against his swollen, pulsating member. When he finally pulled his slick rod from her mouth, he'd transferred all of his sperm-laden fluids directly into her throat, as cleanly as a syringe shooting drugs into an addict's vein. It had almost the same effect, bringing her to a state of near ecstasy. At that very moment, the other compulsion grabbed hold again. Spreading her legs wide, she stuffed both hands down between her red and engorged pussy lips, pawing, rubbing and twisting at her folds and clit. Desperate for release, she shoved two fingers on her left hand deep into her pulsing hole, while frantically rubbing her clit with the other hand. She knew she was gasping and grunting as her efforts brought her closer and closer to the edge, but she could hear nothing but the buzzing in her brain. Her breasts danced and shook crazily, and she arched her back up against her fingers, as if demanding a meaty cock.

When the dam burst, it was the most exhilarating and draining experience she'd ever had. Wave after wave of searing pleasure ripped outward from her cunt, making her muscles twitch and her joints ache. Her toes literally curled, and her hands clenched into fists, still automatically rubbing her pussy, the compulsion still there but subdued under the depth of her orgasm. She could feel tears running down her cheeks, and her chest and breasts heaved from the effort, her overtaxed lungs struggling to keep up with the sudden spike of adrenaline. She looked up from the floor to see the three men laughing and pointing at her, but felt neither shame nor remorse. Instead, as the pleasure of her orgasm ebbed, the compulsion to suck their cocks began to take over again. Crawling to her knees, she bent forward and pulled the middle man's limp member into her mouth. The taste of cum still clung to it and she savored it, fueling the fire in her loins. She'd just begun to suck in earnest when he bent down and whispered in her ear.

It was as if someone had turned a switch. The noise in her brain immediately clicked off and she could hear again. Kyra looked around in confusion and growing terror. She was on her knees before three half-naked men! And, looking down on herself, she too was nearly naked, her panties pushed aside and her tits in the open for everyone to see! She could taste something familiar in her mouth. Cum! Taking a finger and wiping something from her tit, she brought it to her nose. It was cum! The men were laughing uproariously now, pulling their clothes back on. She backed up and stood, only to find herself pressed into a corner. As she did, she saw one of the men push a red button on the wall. As the floor shook beneath her, she realized that they were in an elevator. But that shock was quickly replaced by another when she caught sight of herself in the elevator mirror. Strands of pearly white cum speckled her hair, and her forehead and face was awash in it. Her tits, too, had drops of cum all over them, in stark contrast to the red marks where the men had evidently sucked and bitten them. The men all guffawed loudly in response to something, and despite her revulsion she turned to look. A large dark wet circle stained the carpeting of the elevator. What was that from? The smell hit her at the same time as the realization did. It was where her juices had gushed out when she'd orgasmed. Tears of shame streamed down her face, and she turned into the corner rather than face those strangers as they left the elevator. Their mocking laughter echoed in her ears as she wondered how she could explain this to her husband. Then all went black.

Just like that, she found herself floating again in the sphere. Her body ached, her pussy felt hot, and she could almost taste the cum at the back of her throat. What the hell had that been? A dream? A nightmare? A vision? One thing was for sure, she could never tell Tom about it. He was very protective of her, and they'd had many an argument about men who had paid too much attention to her. As if she could control the hormones of any man. She couldn't even control her own husband, not if he really wanted it. He was just too persistent. Annoyingly so. He'd wheedle and plead and just make her miserable until she gave in. No matter how unromantic she felt, it was usually just easier to give in. 

So there was no way she could share this dream with him. He'd take it as some sign from her subconscious that she really wanted to have an affair. Or that she was reliving one. Or some other sort of psychological hooey. They'd only end up fighting about it. Such was life with a man who'd only taken Psych 101 in college. Just enough to be dangerous.

Kyra looked again at the motes of light. Something was definitely different. Suddenly she realized. She was no longer at the center of the sphere. Now, she was floating near the outer edge. She studied the light particles more closely. Either she was drifting among them, they were drifting around her, or both. She'd always been good at spatial relations. It didn't take long for her to discern a pattern. She was indeed drifting in one direction, and the motes were drifting in another. At this point, it was nothing more than a mental puzzle to help take her mind off her predicament. Still, she had to wonder whether touching that one mote had sent her from the middle to the outer edge. Or had it been something else?

The center of the sphere held a particular fascination for her. The motes toward the center were brighter than the others, for one thing. For another, they seemed to shimmer, where the others were static. She could make out three individual lights in the center, though more might be hiding behind the others. And finally, the fact that she'd moved away from the center just served to pique her curiosity. 

Another mote drifted close. Her head hurt from peering into the darkness. And, quite frankly, she was getting bored. What would it hurt to try a little experiment? She reached out and touched it...

The intense buzzing in her head caught her by surprise, although she thought she should've expected it. The outside observer part of her could take note of her surroundings, while the other part of her had only one thing in mind: strict obedience. In fact, she was staggered by the strength of the compulsion – the urge to obey was overwhelming. She could see herself in a floor to ceiling mirror, and immediately recognized the location. She was at the fitness center, the one where Tom had bought her a membership a couple years ago. She'd attended diligently for two or three months, but then slowly started missing appointments with the trainer. Her way of getting even with Tom for placing so much emphasis on her body and his wish that she would lose 20 pounds or so. She recognized the machine, too. It was one that she'd particularly hated. Sitting upright, it was a fly machine that worked her chest. But when laying down on the bench and hooking her ankles into two loops, it became a vertical rower, in which she used her legs to pull a counter-weighted bar up and down, working her abs, butt and thighs. In either position, it created excruciating pain and quick results. 

What she didn't recognize from the past was herself in the reflection. First of all, she was completely naked, covered only with a glistening sheen of sweat. Second of all, she looked as fit and trim as she'd been in college. Her stomach was toned, her thighs tight, her breasts even more upright than usual. Her eyes glowed with a determination that she felt quite certain she'd never experienced before. Another figure walked into view. This one she did recognize, with not a little loathing. Her personal trainer. As always, he was dressed in tight shorts and an even tighter tank top. During their brief time together, she'd become convinced that he selected exercises that allowed him an unhindered view down her sports bra, or gave him the opportunity to brush his hand across her tits in order to adjust each exercise machine. Two times he'd actually tried to cup them, then gave her an apology that was marked only by its insincerity. 


The Lesser Evil Ch. 01



Now, though, he coldly appraised her nude body with a lascivious grin on his face. The observer part of her squirmed with discomfort, but the exterior part sat stolidly under his gaze. Working quickly, he first clamped her wrists to the bars of the fly machine, so tight that she couldn't lower her arms at all. Then he held a riding crop in his hands, slowly slapping the business end into his palm. He said something to her. Though she couldn't hear it, the urge to obey strengthened even more, as did the buzzing in her head. She would do anything this man ordered. 

Slap! The flat leather tab at the tip of the crop struck her right breast, just above the nipple, the surprise of the blow enhancing the sting. Wincing, she quickly closed her hands around the ends of the fly machine and pulled them together, straining against the heavy weights. As she released the pull and let the weight pull her arms apart, the crop smacked down on her again, this time to the top of her left breast. She pulled again, then released. Slap! He grazed her right nipple, which she was amazed to find standing at attention, as if begging for more. And pull. Slap! An underhanded flick, stinging the bottom of her left tit. And another pull. Slap. Pull. Slap. Pull. Slap. Pull. She sweated profusely as she tried to keep up with his maddening pace. When finally he let her rest, she didn't have any idea how many repetitions she'd done. Only that her breasts were sore and flushed from his repeated blows. 

He left the room momentarily, through the mirrored door that was the only entrance. She remained in place, her obedient side still ready to continue pulling, if so ordered. Her observant side was shocked at the soreness of her muscles, not to mention the stinging heat still emanating from her brutalized tits. When he returned, he motioned for her to lay flat on the bench and then fastened her ankles to a metal bar hanging from the extended arm of the machine. The counterbalanced weight pulled her legs straight up in the air, and it took some effort just to keep her butt from lifting off the bench. She waited passively as he made an exaggerated wind-up motion, then slapped her right ass cheek with the flat end of the crop. At this painful signal, she strained to pull the bar down with her legs, keeping them as straight and extended as possible. After releasing that contraction, the machine's weight pulled her legs back to the vertical position. Slap! The blow to her left ass cheek sent pain stabbing through her butt. He was clearly hitting her harder on the ass than he had on her tits. Slap. Pull. Slap. Pull. Slap. Pull. The pain in her muscles and ass brought tears to her eyes. And the pain only increased when he walked around the bench and brought the crop down on her all-too-exposed pussy, causing her to gasp as the shocking sting reverberated along her nerves. 

Again he left her, only to return, release her ankles from the bar and reattach her wrists to the fly machine. The crop whistled through the air, catching her flush on the right nipple. The pain exploded again, and she had to grit her teeth while bringing her arms together. He followed the same pattern as before, raining blows upon her boobs as she struggled to pull the weighted bars together. Halfway through, he pulled his shirt off, revealing a muscular torso that many women would've considered sexy had it not been covered with a thick crop of sweaty hair. When he finally stopped, her arms felt like jelly and throbbed with a vengeance. After less than a minute's rest, he returned and hooked her again to the leg pull. This time he was equally brutal to her pussy as to her ass, so that when she looked down, her bare cunt lips were striped by red slashes where he'd laid the leather to her skin. As before, he only stopped when she could no longer lower the bar at all, despite a triple lashing to her severely reddened ass. 

Then, tossing aside the crop, he pushed off his shorts to reveal his already hardened cock standing stiffly away from his body. Against his large muscles it appeared kind of small, perhaps five inches or so. His balls were fairly big though, and covered with a thick mass of hair. With an evil and determined grin on his face, he stood at the end of the bench and pulled her legs upwards, until her pussy and ass were at the same level as his straining cock. Just as he prepared to cram his cock inside her, the door to the room flew open. Kyra's observer part of her was shocked to see Tom standing there! Had he been watching through the door's one-way glass the entire time? And if so, why had he allowed this Neanderthal to torture her?

Kyra watched as the two men argued, though she could hear nothing through the buzzing in her brain. The trainer began gesturing wildly, while her husband stolidly shook his head in the negative. Finally, only after her husband looked like he was going to release her, the trainer abandoned the conversation. With his cock just beginning to deflate, he strode to the side of the bench and threw his leg over her, settling astride her nude, sore and sweaty body. His weight forced her legs and body down to the bench mat, though the counterbalanced weights were still attached to the bar by the pulley. Reaching behind, he brutally fingered her still painful pussy, forcing his fingers deep into her hole, then twisting and pulling her juice- and sweat-covered pussy lips. The feel of her cunt yielding to his fingers evidently turned him on, for suddenly his cock had regained its full stature. Just then he whispered something in her ear, and she was immediately obsessed with the need to have his cock spurting its liquid treasure all over her tongue. 

She strained against her bonds to wrap her lips around his cock, but he cruelly pulled it away from her, leaving her looking like a baby bird begging for food from its mother. He tired quickly of this game, and finally rewarded Kyra with his hard rod, which she hungrily gobbled into her mouth. So desperately did her body want his cock that she was literally drooling over it, her spit dripping out of her mouth and off her chin. As he fucked her face she sucked his cock, creating a dual motion that brought grunts of pleasure to his lips. Suddenly, his entire body convulsed and a stream of hot jizz jetted into her mouth, coating it in a layer of delicious seed. Her body trembled as she savored its heavenly taste, scent and feel. So delirious did it make her feel that she could barely bring herself to swallow it; she wanted to swish it around in her mouth forever. Only when he brutishly crammed his cock back into her mouth did she allow his cum to travel down her throat, at once upset at its absence but thrilled to have his cock back between her lips. 

She had just started sucking him again when he abruptly pulled out of her mouth. She looked up in consternation to find that her husband had grabbed the trainer and pushed him away. Was Tom then going to let her suck him? As she gazed greedily at his groin, the buzzing stopped, all went black, and she was again drifting among all the light motes. 

That hadn't been a dream! She would never dream that! For one thing, her trainer had been disgusting. Her mouth soured at the mere thought of him. For another, she couldn't conceive of a way that she'd be able to make up such an outlandish position, tied to the training equipment like that. And Tom? He'd be in there rescuing her, not leaving her at the hands of that disgusting man. No way that was her dream.

But what, then? A hallucination, maybe? Brought on by...what? She thought back to the tickling sensation she'd felt between her legs. Maybe that wasn't Tom. Maybe it was someone else. A doctor? Could she have been in an accident, and all these illusions were the result of the anesthetic? Did hallucinations have a theme? She didn't know. She'd never been under anesthetic. But it seemed possible. More possible than this all being a simple dream. She'd never dreamed in quite this detail. Or about things quite this erotic.

She floated for a while, thinking. The floating was peaceful enough. And she was careful not to touch any of the motes. But, what if she wasn't under any anesthetic? What if she was simply unconscious? Shouldn't she be trying to get back to the surface, to get back to full consciousness? That's what they always said in the movies. "Come back. Don't leave me." It seemed like she should at least try to return to the surface.

Kyra concentrated on the details she remembered from when she first awoke. The feel of the cool air on her nude skin. Her limbs strapped down. The darkness before her eyes. To her complete surprise, suddenly she felt the bed underneath her body! She'd returned! But what did that mean? Anesthetic? Accident? Dream? Or just her mind playing tricks on her? As she puzzled over it, she noticed that not everything was exactly as when she had left. The thing that had originally been brushing through the tops of her pubic hair was now trailing up and down along the ridges of her pussy lips, stroking her most intimate skin. It had to be someone's finger, she thought, making the guess based on sheer instinct. But whose? Was it Tom, still playing a cruel game? Not a doctor, surely. But what if she was under, and an orderly was fondling her? She'd read about that. They did that all the time. She strained to get her groin away from the stroking finger, but her body refused to move. She was well and truly tied down. 

Though she felt somewhat separated from her body, the sensations emanating from between her legs were quite real. The stroking wasn't quite regular, it varied enough as to give her the feeling that the person was somewhat absent-mindedly fondling her. And while she had at first wanted to retreat from the sensation, now her body demanded that she try and get more stimulation. She tried to thrust her pussy against the finger. Again she was denied, her body refusing to move. It was a cruel and unusual punishment. 

Her lack of mobility worried her. Could she be paralyzed? The thought skittered savagely through her mind before she was able to clamp it down. Think it out, she demanded of herself. She couldn't move, but she could feel the finger. That could mean the muscles weren't responding, but the nerves were. OK. No definite answer there. And who would bother to stimulate a paralyzed woman who couldn't respond? Could it be a ghost sensation, like the kind people who lost an arm or a leg felt? Possibly, but to have a ghost there has to be an original. And she couldn't remember anyone being that deliberate, not even herself. Tom would rub her off, but fast and hard, the same way he jerked himself off. And she even liked to do it rough and fast, usually fantasizing about being roughly treated or raped. So she didn't think it was a ghost sensation. 

That left, what? Not enough information, that's what. Except for the seductive sensation of a finger tracing up and down her pussy, and her not being able to do anything about it. She felt she might go mad. At least the sphere and motes left her something to do.

To be continued...



The Lesser Evil Ch. 02



It took only a single thought and she had returned to her floating position in the sphere. Her position hadn't changed, though one of the motes was drifting dangerously near. In fact, she'd have to contort her body to keep it from touching her during its passage. Despite the fact that she suspected what might happen, she still reached out to touch it. Anything was better than just laying here and puzzling over her predicament.

The transition was immediate and disorienting. Suddenly she found herself in a place she instantly recognized: Jack and Terri Clark's basement family room. Jack and Terri were seated in their usual seats on the leather sofa, with Terese Slater, a divorcee friend occupying the chair to their left. Kyra was standing before them, though she couldn't really say why. And they were looking at her expectantly, though again she couldn't say why. Suddenly, she caught sight of herself in the wall mirror to her right. Was that really her? Like the rest of the women, she was wearing summer shorts, sandals and a tank top. But when did she get so thin and shapely? She hadn't looked like that since college! And if she were to guess, she'd say that her boobs were definitely larger than usual. She stared hard at herself, then back at her friends. Something was definitely weird here. 

Just then Jack spoke to her, and all her questions fled, replaced by the now familiar insistent buzzing. Her world narrowed to him alone, and she straightened, waiting for his orders. As before, part of her stood aside, observing her actions but unable to affect the flow of events. That part of her knew, without question, that the other part of her was now under the complete command of this man. Her friend. Her neighbor. And the observant part was already imagining what might be coming next. 

When Jack gestured that she remove her sandals, she quickly complied. At another gesture, she pulled her shorts down and stepped out of them. At the twirl of his fingers, she slowly spun around, catching a disconcerting glimpse of her hourglass body in the mirror. She was much more toned now, more so than even in college. When, and how, had that happened? As usual, the observant part of her had many questions, while the obedient part simply felt a flush of pleasure at having responded so quickly to the orders given to her. At another gesture, she was excitedly removing her top, leaving her standing before them clad only in a white thong and lacy white bra. She felt warm and sexually excited, with a definite dampness between her legs, as if the mere act of following his orders was enough to turn her on. Would she orgasm if she continued to respond to his orders for the next hour, the observant part of her wondered. The rest of her just basked in the glow and awaited further instructions. 

Terri leaned over and whispered to her husband, who then gestured at Kyra. Smiling happily, she unhooked her bra and handed it to him. She didn't feel the least self-conscious standing topless in front of her neighbors. Indeed, she smiled along with Jack, her enthusiasm unflagging even when Terri said something to Terese, and they all burst into laughter. She couldn't hear them, but she seemed to be pleasing them, and that thought sent another flash of pleasure through her. She didn't flinch when Jack had her remove her panties, though she did notice that her pubic patch was shaved to an almost discernible thin line of hair. Another mystery for her observant self. 

She spent the next few minutes performing for her neighbors, displaying her body in a wide variety of poses based on Jack's gestures and directions. She had no trouble interpreting what he wanted. In fact, she felt as though she could anticipate his wishes, though she was careful never to act until he ordered it. Her strict adherence made her hot and horny. 

The observer part of her was again wondering where this was going when the two other women abruptly approached her and began caressing and groping her naked body. As Terese tweaked Kyra's nipples and breasts, Terri ran her hands up and down her hips and outer thighs, as though testing the firmness of her flesh. Kyra stood stock still, her eyes locked on Jack, waiting patiently for his next order, even as her nerves tingled from the attention of the two women. At his next gesture, she clasped her hands behind her head, in a classic slave pose, even though her conscious mind could never recall having ever stood that way. Somehow she just knew to thrust her breasts out and tuck her ass in, standing with her legs spread at shoulder width and her hands locked soundly behind her head. 

With her so submissively positioned, the women's explorations quickly grew bolder and more intimate. Soon Terri was playing with the folds of Kyra's pussy, while Terese was slapping Kyra's ass in a way that was both aggressive and erotic. All the while, Jack sat mesmerized by the spectacle, lightly stroking his hard member through his shorts. All at once, she could see in his eyes that he'd made a decision, though she felt no trepidation as to what it may be. Her only thought was to obey.

In seconds Jack had shed his clothing and was perched on the edge of the sofa. His body was a bit flabby, in contrast to his thick and firm cock, which protruded from between his legs like a missile. Following his orders, Kyra knelt before him, hands still clasped behind her head. The obedient animal inside of her could sense what was coming, and she actually began salivating in advance of the next order. His nod was all she needed. Without a single thought to the neighbor women looking on, she bent forward and took his thick rod into her mouth. She sucked it dutifully but not passionately, always on the lookout for another order from him. After a few moments, he bent forward and whispered into her ear. All of a sudden her dispassionate blowjob turned into a burning desperation within her. She had to suck his cock now! Had to pull every drop of jizz deep into her mouth, to be tasted and savored and then finally swallowed to quench the inferno that had just blossomed between the folds of her pussy. She still couldn't use her hands, so she frantically bobbed her head up and down over his rock hard shaft. While any other woman might wonder whether that cock would soon be finding a home between her legs, Kyra entertained no such questions. Her mind was focused like a laser on the task before her, and no other thoughts would intrude unless he planted them there. 

So Kyra hardly even noticed when Terese's fingers penetrated her steaming hot cunt hole, or when Terri's lips and teeth locked on her bobbing tits. She was past being fondled. She was being invaded, raped even, and yet she only took notice of it as a sensation that was stoking her desperate, wanton passion. She could feel a thumb flicking her clit, two fingers digging deep into her cunt, wet lips sucking at her tit, nails digging into her ass. But the cock in her mouth took all her focus. The big, mushroom helmet. The throbbing veins. The muscles below the skin. The heavy balls in the taut sack. And inside it all, the pool of sizzling cum ready to erupt into her mouth, coating her tongue with thick white lava. She felt like the goddess of fire, the volcano queen, working hard to bring a life-giving nectar to the surface. Her head pounded with the buzzing, which had no rhythm but entranced her all the same. 

She could feel his cock beginning to twitch and prepared herself for the coming torrent. But to her surprise he pulled out of her mouth, leaving her desperately confused and frustratingly desirous. Had she somehow displeased him? She could only watch helplessly as he motioned his wife to lay on the sofa. Somehow in all the excitement the two women had shed their clothes. She noted that Terri had big, full natural breasts that sagged under their own weight. Terese was much smaller breasted, but had a rounded bubble butt, as Tom was fond of calling it. Both their faces were flushed with desire, and Terri eagerly dropped onto the sofa and spread her legs for Jack's straining spear.

Kyra watched in dismay as Jack penetrated Terri's cunt, sinking his cock into her to the hilt. Her pussy screamed for relief even as his cock rubbed Terri's pussy into a frictional frenzy. Her nipples twitched and strained even as he bent and suckled his wife's nipples, his fuck rhythm never wavering. She burned to throw herself between them, if only to lick his quivering cock as it stroked into her friend's sopping wet pussy. Yet he had clearly meant for her to stay in place, torturing her with the nearness of her release from this sexual prison. 

Even with that order of obedience in place, Kyra could hardly contain herself when Jack pulled his cock out with a wet, sucking sound, and proceeded to shoot his load onto his wife's gaping pussy. All that precious fluid! Wasted! Kyra could see, could even smell her goal, but was constrained from reaching it. 

Suddenly, Jack nodded at her and then down at his wife. Kyra strained forward. What was he ordering her to do? She didn't get it! Again he nodded at her and down at his wife, this time exaggeratedly licking his lips. This time she got it! She could hardly believe her luck. She still get to enjoy her prize! Quickly she hopped onto the sofa, bent over, and began licking Jack's sticky cum from Terri's pussy. The observer part of her was shocked beyond belief. She was actually licking another woman's pussy. Eating cum off of it. How in the hell had that happened?

The obedient part of her reveled in the moment. He'd left four pools of hot cum for her to slurp up, and she was doing her best to get every drop. She enthusiastically licked through Terri's pubic patch, siphoning every speck of jism from the stiff hairs. The pungent odor from Terri's cunt made her heady, and the buzzing in her head was reaching a crescendo. Still, she was driven by the unseen forces to search for all of the juice that she could find. Soon her tongue was sliding between the woman's pussy lips, lapping cum from among the folds. Instinctively, Terri pushed her cunt against Kyra's mouth, and just as instinctively Kyra licked and sucked the swollen flesh. Her own cunt radiated heat like a furnace, her clit an energy core of unimaginable power. She shifted her legs back and forth as she lapped up the cum, as if that might ignite the fuel built up inside her. 

Suddenly she gasped loudly into the woman's open pussy, her exhalation rebounding and carrying back to her nose the cloying odor of impending orgasm. She had no care for the other woman's pleasure, however. She'd gasped because someone had begun rubbing and flicking her own clit. Her senses piled upon one and other as she rushed to analyze this sudden pleasure. She could actually feel the friction of their fingerprints as the whorls bumped along the nubs in her flesh. She could almost taste the rush of fluids as her body reacted to the potential penetration. She could hear and smell the activity just beyond her ass as the unknown person explored her most intimate parts. She felt torn in two; one part yearning to taste more cum, one part crying out for release from the pressures inside her. 

Obedient to the end, Kyra continued licking her friend's cunt even when Terri began moaning and writhing on the sofa, exploding in an overpowering orgasm. Kyra's tongue lashing continued, fueling the explosion, and then cooling the hissing remains. Finally, at a whispered word from Jack, she ceased her frantic licking. Only then did she look back to discover that the fingers exploring her cunt were not Jack's, but belonged to Terese. That didn't make them any less potent, though. She moaned, thrashed and mewled in reaction to Terese's rubbing, strongly yearning for immediate release. 

After several excruciating minutes in which she pivoted upon the finger touching her clit, Jack finally said the words to release her. She felt his breath in her ear, felt the movement of his lips, but beyond that could not discern what words he'd whispered. All she knew was that the orgasm crackled through her like lightning in a thunderstorm. A sonic boom of pleasure crashed through her, causing her to tense like a block of stone, then leaving her as limp as a marathon runner at the end of a race. Her heart thudded in her chest, and a gush of juices streamed from her pussy, filling the air with the smell of tangy hot sex. Even the buzzing in her head subsided a bit, though she still felt a compulsion to obey Jack's every whim. 

His lips leaned against her ear once again, and suddenly the buzzing lifted and she could focus her attention once more. Her observant self felt her consciousness return, and she prepared to return to the mote field, as she'd done before. This time, though, she didn't return, and she witnessed herself in the aftermath. 

What was going on? Kyra looked around, confused by the sight before her. Her friend and neighbor, Terri, was laying stark naked on the couch before her. Beside Terri sat their neighbor Terese, also naked. At Kyra's side was Jack, naked as well and panting heavily. At that very moment, she realized that she too was completely naked, and covered in a sheen of sweat! As that realization dawned, she felt her face flush as she blushed a deep red, and she struggled to cover her breasts and pussy with her hands. She had no recollection of what she'd been doing there, though the salty taste in her mouth threatened to give her a hint. A hint which she immediately rejected. She didn't want to know what had been going on. She just wanted to get out of there!

She backed away awkwardly, grabbing bits of clothing as she went. She dressed quickly in the kitchen. She'd left her panties in the other room, but didn't want to return to that situation to retrieve them. She'd just do without. Good thing it was a weekday and Tom was at work. She wouldn't need to deal with any questions about missing underwear. As she hurried through the front door, she heard laughter echo from the living room. 

Then all was black, and she floated in the sphere of motes. Now she was more confused than ever. Her latest incident had all the hallmarks of a memory, but with more detail than even she could conjure up. Even her fantasies weren't that detailed. But even if the signs pointed to a memory, she couldn't even fathom behaving in such a way. Sucking her neighbor's cock? Eating cum off his wife's pussy? Riding another neighbor's finger? She'd never fantasized like that, much less been in a situation to do it. Still lacking solid clues, all the possibilities were still open: hallucinations, dreams, fantasies, visions, madness or reality. 

Frustrated by her lack of progress, she grew more determined to find an answer. Concentrating fiercely, she pushed herself back to where it had all begun. Her bedroom. Though, she had to admit, even that conclusion was simply presumption. But she could feel the weight of her body against the bed. She was still naked, still strapped spread-eagle with those invisible bonds. Though she couldn't turn her head, she could now see two silhouetted shapes around her. And, most importantly, she could hear, though the now familiar buzzing was creating some static in her head. 

"She's already fully compliant." A man's voice. Not Tom's. Had she heard it before? She stored the question away.

"But the controls are...not ideal." Another man. Tom. She was sure of it. 

"So you want me to remove them?"

"Can you? Bring her back to the way she was?"

"Actually...no, I'm not sure. Trying it might have some unforeseen consequences. She's the most suggestive I've ever seen. If it's not removed entirely, I can't guarantee what will happen. So you want me to try it?"

"No...I don't think. Not now. Just...adjust them?"

"An adjustment only you and I will know about." It was a statement, not a question. She could see the speaker, black on a field of black, bend over her nude body. His hand caressed her exposed breast, lovingly, but she could sense malevolence there, too.  

"How much is she really aware of?" Tom asked.

"Who knows, exactly? She remembers nothing consciously. Subconsciously? I can't answer that. People react differently. You still seem hesitant. We could try the reversal."

"No. At least now there's certainty."

"It is nice, isn't it? Many would want this."

"Too many."

A chuckle. "As you've said."

The figures moved away, their voices too low to be heard. She waited, but soon grew bored with this black world, and so returned to the motes, still silently gliding upon their concentric paths. She found herself back inside the sphere, on the edge but in a different position than before. There had been clues in that conversation, Kyra felt sure of it. If only she could interpret them. Compliance, controls, consciousness, reversal. The answer was there, she could feel it. But nothing made sense. She looked around at the floating motes. Maybe, she reasoned, she needed these to find the answer. 

The center motes still held a strange pull for her, even out here on the periphery. Gradually, she noticed that the mote paths weren't as random as she had at first thought. They moved in predictable patterns, if you kept your attention on just a few at a time. What's more, she could, if she wanted, pinpoint a path that would lead her closer and closer to the motes in the middle. That was where the answer to all this lay. She was as sure of that as she was of anything. It would take some careful planning. And she would have to actively touch the motes. Trepidation about that raised goose bumps on her arms. Already she'd sucked off three strangers, been fucked by her personal trainer and performed unspeakable acts upon her neighbors. Could she take the chance of experiencing that kind of depravity just to get an answer?

On the other hand, was the key to leaving this stasis dependent upon her efforts? She'd often heard people on the edge of death being called "to the light." If she were in a coma or something, did she need to make an effort to leave that state? Was she supposed to "head to the center?" She'd never read anything about people trapped in comas. It wasn't even covered on Oprah. So she had no experience with what was expected of her. Still, she couldn't just sit here and wait for something to happen, or for someone to rescue her. She'd hate herself if she found out later that to get back to reality all she'd had to do was move on her own. It was that realization that made up her mind. Doing nothing meant going nowhere. And going somewhere might mean some shocking experiences, but so far none of them had done her any physical harm. And so the decision was made. 

The path to the center was, she judged, a matter of planning and patience. She had no way of knowing how far the other motes might travel while she was experiencing each one. So a direct line of approach wouldn't work. Instead, she planned a path that took her in a direction that might intersect a cluster of motes. With luck she might be able to skip a few layers in her travel to the center. And if not, well, she had nothing to waste but time, and it appeared she had plenty of that.

She didn't have to wait long for the first mote to come alongside. This time she boldly touched it, bracing herself for the onslaught of buzzing in her ears. Instead, she found herself in her own living room. She looked around, confused. Was that all it had taken to get free from wherever she'd been? She began to feel elated, but just as quickly her mood sobered. This was her living room, but at the same time it wasn't. The furniture was in different spots, the floor plants were different, even the window curtains had changed. She moved forward to inspect the curtains. She remembered these! They'd been in the house when she and Tom first moved in. They'd replaced them a long time ago. 




The Lesser Evil Ch. 02



As she was puzzling over that information, a large furniture truck pulled up in front of the house. As she watched, an older Hispanic man hopped out of the cab, checking his paperwork against the address. She moved to the door as he strode up the driveway, greeting him before he had a chance to knock. 

"Hello. Furniture delivery for you," he said, gesturing back to the truck. 

Kyra was confused. She didn't remember having ordered any furniture. And even if Tom had done so, he would've ordered it from his brother, who owned his own furniture outlet. 

"I...I'm sorry. I know we didn't order any furniture," she replied, looking back to the name on the truck. The nearest outlet for them was on the other side of the state!

"This is your address?" he asked, pointing to the yellow paperwork on his clipboard. 

She read it carefully. It was her address, and her name was spelled correctly. Odd that it had her name on it, and not her husband's. 

"This has the right information, but we always get our furniture from my brother's store. And that's not it," she pointed out. 

"Aaagh! I've come a long way for this to be a screw-up. Look. Is it OK for me to use your telephone? My cell is dead. I'll call it in and we'll get this straightened out."

She looked him over carefully. He looked very normal, just a middle-aged man with a job to do. And she'd never once felt like he was leering at her, even though she only wore a white halter top and a pair of shorts. Sensing he was OK, she let him in the foyer, shutting door behind her. 

"Just one question," he said, approaching her and reading from the clipboard. She turned to see him addressing her, his lips moving, and suddenly the buzzing exploded inside her skull. She felt split in two, an obedient part of her swaying from the assault of noise, and the observant part struggling to reclaim its balance. 

She watched as the man calmly placed his clipboard on the table in the hallway, then reached forward and pulled her halter top up to her neck, revealing her lacy white bra. Thank god she had decided to put one on that morning! On really hot days, she would forgo the bra altogether. Placing his hands on either side of her waist, he pulled her to him, kissing her hard and pushing his tongue deep into her mouth. When she didn't respond, he stepped away and consulted his paperwork. Again his lips moved, and immediately she felt a new compulsion seize her. She had to please him. Please him and she would get her reward. 

Again he pulled her to him, and this time when their lips met she responded in kind, greedily pressing her tongue into his mouth, grinding her body against his as she kissed him passionately. They broke apart only when he pulled her top and bra the rest of the way over her head. Then they fell together again, her body trembling as she pressed against him. He kissed his way across her cheek and down her neck, wandering into the valley between her breasts. Each kiss left a pool of fire behind, as though she'd been branded by his lips. She could think of nothing but giving herself to this man, in any way that he wanted her. Her head swam with the need to submit to him, leaving her so heady that her legs began to buckle. 

He held her fast by the waist, smothering her breasts in kisses, and sucking desperately at her nipples. Her back arched instinctively, pushing her tits deeper into his mouth. He savaged her with his tongue, lips and teeth for another minute, and then pushed her roughly against the wall. Having cornered her, he crammed his hand inside her shorts and panties, his fingers forcefully gripping her pussy. Instead of backing away from the intrusion, she pushed against it, impaling herself onto his hand. She could feel his fingers probing deep inside her cunt, rubbing against the walls as though he were measuring the size of her for what was to come next.

Stepping back, he pushed her shorts down to the floor. When she became entangled in her panties, he simply ripped them off her, the fabric tearing and parting with dramatic resolve. Finally she was nude before him, her pussy aching for some sort of stimulation. His hand, cock, tongue... it didn't matter. As long as something was there to slake the heat that traveled in waves through her body.

Once she was naked, the delivery man wasted no more time on kissing and fondling. He roughly pushed her onto the floor, positioning her on her hands and knees like a bitch in heat. It was no coincidence that she was crouching in front of the mirrored closet doors. Not that the thought entered her conscious mind. That part of her was much too obsessed with following his orders and pleasing him. 

He took her savagely, his hard, brown cock splitting her swollen lips and filling her cunt. Through the haze of her lust, she could tell that he was doing it just the way she wanted it. Hard, fast and forcefully. With his strong, callused hands, he pulled her toward him, while his strong legs pistoned forward, so that her pussy received the impact of everything he could muster. And though he was kneeling on some padding, in the form of his pants, her bare knees were being punished by the hard slate floor. So as he fucked her the two of them slowly pirouetted around the foyer, an intimate dance gone horribly wrong. 

She could feel his body tense as his orgasm approached, and steeled herself for the relief it would bring. But when his hot cum flooded the inside of her cunt, it brought not relief, but merely served to enflame her passion, as though he had shot a volley of gasoline directly onto a fire. She felt preternaturally sensitive to every sensation. She could feel his cum dripping down the walls inside her. Could feel the air currents rasping over her erect nipples. Could taste her pungent juices on the very air around them. Could hear his skin slide over hers as he pulled himself from her. 

Their floor fuck had pushed her around so that she faced away from the mirror, so she had to look back to see him as he dressed hurriedly. Kyra waited not-so-patiently for him to give her another order, another way to please. But he simply walked to the door, paused a moment as if to memorize the scene, then read a simple phrase off his clipboard before leaving.

She shook her head, dazed, and immediately wondered why she was kneeling on the cold floor, completely naked. The buzzing was gone, and her head ached as intensely as her pussy. Her shorts and top were strewn on the floor before her. But where were her panties? She looked backwards to discover them in shreds near the closet door. It was then that she saw that her pussy was leaking thick, white cum. Even this discovery didn't penetrate the numbness in her brain. Though momentarily curious as to how she'd gotten this way, that thought quickly slipped away. Suddenly unconcerned, she picked up her clothes and began cleaning up.

In the blink of an eye, Kyra was back in the blackness. She remembered those panties! She'd taken them out of the washer and couldn't understand how they'd gotten so torn up. She'd finally put it down to a loose part in the washer, and she'd even gone so far as to call to have it serviced. The realization gave her pause. The real question now was whether the incident had actually happened, or whether her brain was pulling these memories from within and conjuring up a story to go around them. Both possibilities worried her. Serial fucking? Or madness? Or both?

Another mystery she couldn't solve at the moment. At least, that's what she told herself as she pushed the now familiar tendrils of panic away. The more important matter was whether her bold move had worked? Was she closer to the core? She studied the motes briefly, counting the ones to the outside of her. It had worked! She'd skipped inwards by two circuits. Briefly, her curiosity tugged at her. What had she missed by skipping those two levels? But given her past experience, the answer was self-evident. More fucking, no doubt. And since she had such a ways to go to reach the center, it was clear that she'd be experiencing enough of that.

With a push of will, she took herself back to the bedroom. As if by magic she could feel the mattress below her, and the eddies of air wisping along her nude body. She could see the two silhouettes, and hear their voices, but still could not make her body move to indicate her awareness. One of the silhouettes approached and sat on the bed next to her. She could feel the mattress compress near her hip. She felt two hands, one on each thigh, grasp her and push her legs wider open. The realization shocked her. She wasn't tied to the bed! But then why couldn't she move her body? She lost that train of thought as she felt a finger slide up and down her pussy lips. Kyra braced herself for the penetration to come, but the finger just brushed up and down, never parting her lips more than a fraction. She forced herself to breathe evenly. This was more intense, more exciting than the sex she'd experienced with the motes. The darkness, the helplessness, the mystery all combined to put her body on edge, straining for even more stimulation. 

"We haven't discussed your fee." Tom's voice.

"My regular session fee, I think," the second voice, again so familiar. "Plus a share."

"I kinda figured. How much?" Tom asked.

"A few a month, probably. I'd call ahead. This, um, doesn't bother you?" The stroking stopped, though the finger remained on her pussy lips. 

"Not anymore. The first time, in the hotel, bothered me a lot. Until I figured out what'd happened. It's been frustrating, more than anything. Damn internet," Tom said.

"Word does travel quickly these days," the voice agreed. "Hard to put the genie back in the bottle." The finger left her slit. Seconds later, two fingers were softly rubbing her right nipple. "Especially such a compliant, beautiful genie."

"At least this way I'll know," Tom replied. "If I can't have my Kyra back, at least she won't be everyone's Kyra."

"Hmmm, yes. Well, yours most of the time. Ours some of the time. A good compromise, I think."

"Yeah. Like you said, 'The lesser of two evils.'" There was a tone of futility in Tom's voice. 

As the fingers continued to pinch and pull her nipple, Kyra returned to the mote field with a simple force of will. The transition was getting easier and easier, but she was getting more and more frustrated. The conversation between Tom and that other man hadn't answered a single question. Instead of clues to her predicament, all she had were more questions. Genies, internet, yours, ours, evils...none of it went together. She couldn't even begin to imagine a way to connect it all. 

She turned back to the motes floating around her. As long as the results continued as they had been, she could make her way to the center. She already had the beginnings of a path laid out. All she had to do was touch the next one floating her way, experience whatever happened, and let that experience push her closer to the center. All she had to do was touch it. All she had to do was... 

Why was this so difficult? She had to admit that she was afraid. Who wouldn't be? But that wasn't all of it. Returning from the last encounter in the bedroom, she'd been seized by a grain of doubt, a niggling suspicion. Maybe it wasn't madness or dreams or subconscious desires. Maybe she had somehow experienced all of that. Maybe those weren't constructs of her mind. Maybe they were memories. 

No! That was too much to endure. She'd never act that way, never betray Tom that way. Not even by drinking, when her inhibition so easily turned to exhibition. There had to be some other explanation, and her fear of what she might experience second-hand wasn't going to interfere with discovering what was at the heart of all this, glowing seductively in the center of all those spinning motes. With a newly recharged resoluteness, she touched the nearest mote...

And followed a zigzag path to the center, jumping from scene to scene as her body was used in ways too myriad for complete comprehension. A blowjob for a waiter in the alley of a restaurant, bent over and fucked by a Little League coach under the stands. Banged in the car by the auto mechanic, stripping and masturbating for three businessmen in the backroom of a library. 

And then there were the experiences with Tom. Sucking him off while they drove someplace. Modeling a wide variety of kinky lingerie for him; stuff she never remembered owning. Waiting on him hand and foot at a cabin of some sort, clothed only in the tiniest thong she'd ever seen. Bent over his desk at the office and taking it from behind. Servicing him as he watched a football game on TV. Playing strip poker with some neighbors, and being the only one to actually strip. Obediently fetching him food and drinks at the company picnic, then taking it from him in the woods, evoking an earth-shattering orgasm so powerful that her scream startled several birds into flight. That Tom was involved was perhaps more upsetting than the things she experienced herself doing. 

Finally, after dozens of stops, she was just two motes from the center. It scared her to think that she'd only experienced a fraction of the motes around her. Were they all unwanted sexual experiences? Odds are, they were. Which meant how many times in total? She didn't even want to figure it out. One thing was for sure. If they were all constructs of her mind, from an accident, or a coma, or whatever, she was one sick puppy. And if they were all memories, she was in even worse trouble. 

She'd been in approximately the same position in the sphere when she first started this journey. A touch of one mote had sent her to the outer edges of the sphere. She had no interest in taking that trip again. So she was more than a little nervous as she touched the next mote.

To be continued...



The Lesser Evil Ch. 03



She became even more confused as the hypnotist addressed Tom, who was grinning from ear to ear like a drunken fool. "So, Tom, can you help me out and show the folks that this isn't just a parlor trick?" Again the crowd roared, and Tom nodded his head enthusiastically. "Just say the first words."

The first words? What the hell were they talking about? As Kyra turned to Tom for an explanation, his mouth formed two words, which slipped in, through and out of her mind as quickly as a thought. Her head filled with a loud buzzing, and the observant part of her could see and feel that her whole body had gone preternaturally still, as she waited with a pounding heart for Tom's order. 

The hypnotist's voice stole into her head like a ghost. She had to listen to that voice too, though she wasn't sure why. Perhaps because it was the only thing she could hear outside of the buzzing in her head. "So, Tom, would you say that your wife is a little shy about showing her body? And wouldn't that make a great test? It'll be our little secret. You, me and the audience here. She'll forget all about it, never know that it happened. I think everyone wants to see what she's hiding under that dress, huh? Let's ask the audience what they think."

The observer in her could feel the answer as the roar caused the stage to reverberate. That part of her looked on in shock as Tom pantomimed slipping her dress down over her shoulders. She obediently slipped the straps down over her arms, then let her dress fall to the ground, leaving her body bare, save for her tiny, lacy black panties. She obediently twirled around, bent over and wiggled in response to Tom's orders, while a fairly intense heat built up between her legs. 

"Tom, thank you for helping to prove my skill. But, I fear there are still members of the audience who think this is all just a set-up. After all, we are in Vegas, and there are plenty of showgirls who are willing to take off their tops. How do you feel about trying something a little more daring? How about it, audience, are you up for it?!?"

Kyra stood still as a statue as two assistants bustled around her nearly nude body. One set up a tall, three-sided screen of gauzy material around her, and the other positioned a strong light so that it was pointing at her from the open side. The overhead lights dimmed, so that the effect was to project her shadow onto the fabric, giving the audience a sharp view of her silhouette, but not any details. 

Tom entered the enclosure with her, while the hypnotist addressed the crowd, "Tom, it's time to separate the men from the boys. Time to show that this cannot possibly be a trick. Time to show, in the only way we can, within the Las Vegas city limits, how you're going to be treated for the rest of your life. Time to say those two words that we all love to say."

Kyra watched Tom's mouth as they formed two words, and felt a compulsion fill her inside and out, even as the buzzing in her head doubled in intensity. Desperately, she dropped to her knees and unzipped his pants. Reaching inside, she pulled his cock out into the open and frantically began sucking it. As soon as his member touched her lips, she felt a fiery explosion of wetness between her legs, which only served to incite her to double her efforts. She heard none of the roaring of the crowd, was not aware of how the hypnotist had entered the enclosure to reposition them for maximum effect, could barely feel Tom's hands as they pulled and prodded at her quivering breasts. All of her attention was focused on pulling his hot, heavenly sweet cum out of his stiff, strong cock. How good it would taste. How it would feel sliding around in her mouth. How delicious it would be rolling down her throat. And how wonderful it would be to do it all again. 

She bobbed her head up and down on his cock, more passionate and enthusiastic than she'd ever been in their brief marriage, or even during the whole time they'd been married. She pressed her head so violently against him that she was soon deepthroating him, his cockhead slamming into the back of her throat. He grasped her by the hair and began fucking her face, his cock slamming past her lips with the same urgency that he sometimes fucked her other lips. 

In moments she was rewarded with a big, syrupy cumshot, splashing inside her mouth and surprising her so much that some of it leaked out, dripping over her chin and onto her tits. The compulsion to slurp it up was so sharp, however, that she immediately wiped it up with her fingers and transferred it back into her mouth. She looked up at Tom, her face slick with cum, and waited anxiously for his next order. The hypnotist leaned in and whispered something in Tom's ear, and that was when she noticed the large tent in the front of his pants. She briefly wondered if she would be allowed to capture the cum from that cock too. The compulsion was already recharging to full force. Instead, Tom said something to her. She couldn't hear it, couldn't grasp it, but felt the full fury of it. 

There, kneeling in front of a room full of people, she experienced a mind-numbing orgasm. So powerful were the waves flowing through her, she literally collapsed on the floor. Her panties were immediately soaked by the juices squeezed from her cunt, and the perfume of her sex quickly wafted through the air. She panted, moaned and screamed as unseen forces stimulated her sensitive nipples, ass and clit. She could think of nothing else but the electric jolts coursing through her body. She didn't even notice the stage lights extinguishing and the roar of applause for the hypnotist who had put her into such an embarrassing situation. 

At Tom's orders she dressed again, cum slickened tits and all. Suddenly, she was...

Backstage. How had she gotten here? All the lights were off. Had there been a power failure? Some sort of emergency? Someone handed her a cocktail and pushed her to drink it. Not a very good margarita. Far too salty. 

The beautiful assistant appeared out of the darkness. "Andy says to head to his dressing room to remove the cues. Don't want to be walking around with that stuff in your head, do you?" She giggled, looking at Kyra as if she knew something important. Well, Kyra reasoned, they should go visit with the hypnotist and apologize for ruining his show. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't be hypnotized. She'd even tried to tell him on stage. 

They headed in the direction indicated, when suddenly Tom stopped, and began coughing violently. He looked around with wild eyes. Kyra knew the look. He'd had too much to drink and was about to get sick. He just couldn't handle his liquor. She spotted a trash barrel at the far end of the room and led him to it. They made it just in time, but she had to spend several minutes listening to him gag into the can, and trying to tamp down on her own bile that was churning in response to the sickening smell. By the time he'd finally finished, and she'd cleaned him up in the nearby men's room, the backstage area was nearly empty. And by the time they found the hypnotist's dressing room door, it was shut and locked for the night. 

Kyra led Tom back to the room, then set out in search of some Seven-Up to help calm his stomach. She stepped on the elevator and nodded pleasantly to the three businessmen already inside. She felt as though she'd seen them before...

Then she was back in the mote field, gasping for air and on the verge of tears. What the fuck??? Was it all real, all those encounters with those strange men, and women, and boys, for god's sake? And Tom, letting them do that to her? In front of all those people? She felt humiliated, raped, pillaged, sickened, amazed, frightened, panicky and intensely vulnerable, all at the same time. Had that even been real? She remembered the trip to Vegas. Remembered all the fun they'd had. They never went to a stage show like that, had they? She didn't remember it. Maybe none of this was real. Not a single encounter. Not her defloration on-stage. Not anything that happened after it. Maybe she was just trapped in her mind, her brain creating all kinds of weird experiences in order to stay active and alive. Maybe she was just in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines, comatose and unresponsive, except in her mind. As she imagined what she'd look like, and whether Tom would pull the plug, she felt her reality twist again...

And she was back in the bedroom. The two silhouettes were there, and one was seated next to her, gently caressing her face. 

"Have you given any thought to the code words you want to use?" the stranger asked. She knew she recognized that voice. She almost had it. 

"Certainly something better than the first time." Tom's voice this time. He was the one seated next to her. 

"'Emkus?' 'Emseelp?' 'Emyabo?' 'Emrofmuk?' What kind of commands are those? What language is that?"

The stranger laughed lightly. "You haven't figured it out? An entertainer like that wants something that's easily remembered by him, easily digested by his volunteer, and will provide an entertaining laugh to the audience if they figure it out after the show is over. After all, he just wants to be remembered and build word-of-mouth traffic for his show. He's really more of a stage magician than a real hypnotist. Anyway, his commands are simply backwards pronunciations of what he wants the volunteer to do." 

"So, Emkus is suck me? And Emseelp...please me! Emyabo was obey me. And Emrofmuk was, hmmm, cum for me! Clever," Tom said sarcastically. 

"Not clever enough, considering what you've told me about how easily the word spread."

"It was that damn internet. I tracked most of the traffic to a boy down the street. He'd gotten word of it through his hacker network. By the time I caught up with him, he'd shared the commands, and her picture, address and everything all over the internet. I tried to make a deal with him, but by then it was too late. Once something's out there, there's no way to put the genie back in the bottle. Hell, I even looked into transferring out of the country, but we weren't in France more than two days before she came back to the room with her pussy full of some guy's cum. Her face and secret is everywhere."

"All the more reason to change the key, eh?"

"I guess. If I can't remove the lock, I can at least change the key." 

"Then we'll get started in a minute. Let's set up the key codes now, so we don't get confused. I find it helps to write them down."

"You're sure she can't hear us?" Tom asked.

"There's no telling for sure," the stranger answered. "But she has the most pliable mind I've ever come across, from what I can tell from this examination. This is just the first time I've seen her, you understand. Since she could be imprinted so easily, it was a simple task for me to suggest to her that she was tied to the bed, though clearly there are no ropes. In her mind, she believes there are ropes, and so she can't move her limbs. I told her she cannot see, even though it's daylight. I told her she cannot hear, though we're talking normally. Since it's uncomfortable to be kept under for long periods of time, I told her to occupy herself with memories, to keep her brain busy while we talked. Simply put, she's oblivious to us. And she will remain so until I release her."

Or until I release myself, Kyra thought, twisting her will to return to the mote field. Hypnotized! She'd been hypnotized and left at the hands of strangers to be their cock-sucking whore. Their internet-traded sexual plaything. She was seething...at herself, at Tom, at the stranger who thought he could control her so easily. She reached out to touch the final mote. Nothing could shock her anymore. 

She found herself in an office. A doctor's office, from the looks of the books lining the shelves. In a moment she placed it. The hypnotist's office. The first one, who she'd approached to help lose some weight for the wedding. But it hadn't worked, and she'd returned for another treatment. A free treatment, he'd promised her, to help strengthen the conditioning. 

"Sometimes these things just don't take like they should. So you just need another treatment, a minor adjustment," the doctor said from behind his desk. 

That voice! Now she recognized that voice! It was the man with Tom, the man back in the bedroom. But...he'd said to Tom that he'd never met her before. A lie! She'd visited him twice for treatment. He knew all about her!

"That's OK, doctor. I know I have a very strong will. Except where some foods are concerned. I just need to lose a few more pounds before the wedding. So have at it, and let's get going," Kyra heard herself say.

She watched the pendulum swing back and forth, lost herself in his voice, and saw her other self fall into a deep trance. His first few instructions were simple. A few mantras to repeat when she had the urge to overeat. Then he did something strange. He pulled out his pendulum and swung it before her again, urging her into a deeper trance. 

"Kyra, can you hear me?"

"Yes, doctor."

"You will help me understand you. You will do as I say. You will answer my questions."

"Yes, doctor."

"You will lift your top and show me your tits."

"Yes, doctor." She lifted her top like an automaton, holding it up so he could inspect her.

Her other self looked on in amazement as the doctor played with her breasts, running his hands up and down her skin, while she sat completely vulnerable to his whims. Then he left her with his final instructions.

"You will obey these instructions. When you are put in a trance, you will travel into the deep. And you will be compelled to do whatever is asked of you. Repeat your instructions."

As she heard herself repeating the instructions, she felt herself being pulled back to the other reality. She was about to be hypnotized by a man who had earlier arranged to molest her! And Tom was completely unaware of this! She had to warn him. She placed her whole will against the task of moving her arms and legs, but they remained spread-eagled and motionless. She pushed against the blocks on her voice, but to no avail. She was just about to try again when she heard the voice from her past, and it filled her with dread.

"Kyra, focus on me."

She strained against the pull with every fiber of her being, but she couldn't break the hold. Over the next few minutes he filled her mind with sordid orders and nonsensical key words. Not just the taste of cum on her tongue, or a cock in her cunt, but a wide range of sexual deviations. The desire to be in bondage. The need to be humiliated. The urge to be in pain. The anxious desperation to try something new every time. The compulsion to serve a master totally and completely. All stored inside her brain, waiting to be unlocked by one or the other of them. 

"Get her dressed and bring her downstairs. It's important that she not have her version of reality jolted this early in the game. Her brain may be lethargic and unable to compensate as well."

Kyra followed Tom down the stairs, a little dazed and confused. Why was she only wearing a bathrobe in the middle of the day? And why was her old weight-loss doctor, Dr. Stanson, sitting in her living room? Suddenly she was aware of her nudity under her robe, and she turned and started back for the stairs. 

"I'll take it from here, Tom," she heard the doctor say, in that low, sonorous voice he'd used with her. "Why don't you step out and do some errands for a couple of hours?" 

This left her even more puzzled, until the doctor said a phrase that slipped through her mind like mercury rolling across a floor. Suddenly, her every thought was on her master, as she waited for whatever order he might give her. She felt a buzzing in her brain, but could still hear him murmur is appreciation. His hands reached forward and she almost squealed with delight. He was going to touch her breasts! When his fingers made contact, she leaned into him, thrilled that her nipples and tits might be pleasing to him. As he removed her robe, she could feel her pussy beginning to tingle with anticipation. She would do anything for him. All he had to do was say the word.

No! No, she wouldn't, the other part of her screamed. This wasn't right. She couldn't stop herself as she sank to her knees. Couldn't stop her hands from unfastening his belt. Couldn't stop herself from pulling his pants and underwear to the floor. Couldn't stop her mouth from greedily sucking his cock inside, intent on turning it into a hard rod capable of penetrating every orifice in her body. 

Ohhhhh, she thought, he's so big and long and thick. I hope I get to feel it hard inside me. 

No, you don't! You don't want that! This isn't right! She shouldn't be aware of this. At least before she wasn't aware. She'd go insane like this. Out of control under someone else's control. Knowing but unable to stop it. She'd go insane. The aware part of her could feel the weight of his cock on her tongue. Could palpably taste the intense desire to suck on his balls. Could clearly see the urge to roll his cum through her mouth. She hated it, but couldn't stop doing it. 


"And now I finally get your ass," the doctor said to her. Obediently, she rolled onto her hands and knees. As she felt him enter her tight anus, she screamed aloud. It was the first of many screams she would be unleashing. And its primal fury was wasted on the man inside her. And did nothing to alleviate the fury of the woman inside her, either. 

The End.