0 comments/ 8466 views/ 4 favorites Goldenrod Prequel By: rlmmike I'm writing this for the sake of the Order, so that should a threat like the one depicted emerge again, we may have some means of recognizing and defeating it. This account is factual to the extent possible, with sensitive information changed or omitted insofar as doing so would not alter the overall meaning. I appear as a character below, so further data about the setting or background may be obtained with appropriate permissions from my personal file, as necessary. Margaret moved from the coast to attend university, and we became roommates by chance. Only I had a car, a beat-up hatchback, and it was after we'd been out shopping that Russell caught his first glimpse of her. We pulled into the drive and she emerged from the passenger side in black knee-high boots and tight black jeans, with a black cotton jacket zipped up to almost completely conceal a form-fitting white t-shirt. Her dark hair was thick and curly, falling past her shoulders. I could certainly understand his attraction, which was instantaneous. It was also clear why he showed no interest in me, as I was shorter, wore thick glasses and had bangs in my stringy brown hair, which otherwise fell straight down my back. She strode beside him inspecting the awe-struck teenager as if he were some colorful variety of insect, while I bundled the groceries to my chest and kicked the door closed on my side. "I'm Russ," he stammered helplessly. "Do I know you?" She chuckled at his impertinence, and raised an eyebrow as she mentally undressed him. "No, I'd remember meeting you, Russ. I'm Margaret. That's my roommate over there, Samantha." I raised my head in acknowledgement as I tried to unlock the entrance to our building with my arms full of plastic bags. "Do you want to ask if we go to your college? Maybe you've seen us around campus," she said. I couldn't stand watching her toy with him, so I happily went inside. "Do you?" "Do me?" "I mean, do you go to my college?" She grinned wide at him like a snake about to bite. "Yeah," she said, peering through him. She liked his boyish good looks and wild, mid-length hair. Her stare fell again upon the t-shirt and jeans he wore. "Maybe we'll bump into each other again," she said, but he didn't hear her. When she entered the kitchen I had put all the food away. "That wasn't nice," I said. "What? He's cute." "You shouldn't lead him on." She took a deep breath as she removed her jacket and stretched her arms. "Oh, he has potential." "Would Tammy think so?" She leveled cool eyes at me when I mentioned her girlfriend. "Samantha, I don't read your special books, and I trust you know when to respect my boundaries, as well." I bowed my head momentarily in apology, and she relaxed again. "I'm going to shower," she purred, and effortlessly took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. "Make it a cold one," I muttered. As I turned past the window above the sink I saw Russ on the sidewalk, trying to stand as if he weren't loitering. The next time they met, Margaret had removed her jacket and traded her white tee for a black one, but his clothes hadn't changed. She was bagging the last leaves from the lawn, and was aglow from her labors. He again resembled an ornament that had fallen off her and lacked any purpose until replaced. "Oh, hey, Margaret. Hey." "Hey," she replied, skillfully restraining a laugh. "Doing some yard work, huh?" She nodded, and waved away some wasps. "Just wrapping up." "Cool. I was thinking, there's this band playing downtown tonight, and they're not very good, but..." "Russ, listen," she said, holding up a hand to silence him. "You're nice, but ask somebody else to see this show with you. I don't go to clubs anymore." "Oh, well, we don't have to see them. If you want to stay in and catch a movie..." The laugh at last escaped her. "I'm a lesbian. You do know what that is?" "Yeah, I've heard that one before." "I'm flattered by the offer." "Well, so what?" "Sorry?" "I know lots of people who are bi, it doesn't mean anything. We can still hook up." She crossed her arms. "What if I said I don't want to?" "Why not?" "I told you." "Yeah, and I said it doesn't matter." "Really? If you were getting hit on by a guy, you'd be okay with it?" "What? No," he laughed, "it's different with chicks. Society's more accepting of what girls do." "Is it?" she asked icily. "Yeah, I have manly pride to worry about. I have to consider how I'm seen." "I guess women never have to fret about that." He shrugged. She effected a wry smile. "Okay," she said, brushing her hands clean on her hips. "We can kick back, and enjoy some videos tonight." "Alright." "Come by around eight." "Will do," he said, departing with a wink. "Yes," she said, "that's right." A freak cold front kept people off the moonlit streets. In the apartment, white curtains spilled their eerie glow into empty corridors, which were silent until his knocking. When Margaret didn't answer the door, he tried the knob. "Hello?" he asked, craning his head in. He walked into the kitchen, and shut the door behind him, shaking off the freezing air. "Margaret?" "Here," she whispered. He saw her at the hallway portal, and she held out her hand to him. Bewitched, he took it and followed her into the dark. She looked at him twice as they moved quietly down the corridor. When they'd entered my soundproof study, she turned to face him. Suddenly overcome by youthful enthusiasm, he tore off his coat and began grabbing at her. She endured his efforts with humor, but didn't reciprocate. He kissed her mouth, pulled her solid form to him by her waist, and rubbed his groin up at hers. Subtly, she started assisting his groping hands by putting her own atop them, and manipulating his fondling to make it more acceptable to her. When his fingers cupped her breast, she molded and slowed their squeezing. As he kneaded her ass, she reinforced his grip to make it ache pleasingly. The hold on her cheeks that he took to gently chew her lips, she transferred to her neck and tightened to a strangle. Her continual cooperation thwarted his efforts to conquer her until he realized she was merely using him to play with herself. Eventually he broke away in disgust. "What the hell are you doing?" "What's the matter? I thought you wanted me." "This isn't right." "I'm letting you put your hands all over me. Doesn't it turn you on? Maybe you're a sissy. Is that the problem?" "No." "No? You don't please me. I won't oblige you. All that leaves is testing your claim that no man can have you." "What? What are you talking about?" "I'm being dirty," she said, and took a deep breath. "Do you like it?" She then recited a spell stolen from one of our texts, which I have replaced with the following inert verse. "The fertilizing lightning fell from heaven, and animated the clay, which then crawled. Coming home, the beasts forsake legs, and only climb the tree by coiling around." At once she groaned and a bulge swelled in the crotch of her dark jeans. Her mouth dropped open, and her head rolled languidly atop her neck in a reverie of pleasure. Beneath her glazed eyes, the growth insistently rose by inches, making her hips buck and audibly straining the fabric that contained it until the button popped off her pants. Russ shirked as it barely missed his head, but he was immobilized by the sight of the proud stalk blossoming from Margaret's loudly unzipping fly. Its length slowly fell until horizontal, as if to point at him accusingly. She gasped. From seemingly nowhere, she had conjured a realistic rubber penis to her pubis. "Come to me," she growled. "No way!" he yelled, and scrambled into a run from her. She patiently trailed him. "Look at me, Russ. I want to show you something." "I've seen it." He was trapped at a locked door. She slowed to a halt five feet from him. "Watch, now." Resting her palms flat on her sides, she transferred her weight to one leg, and then gradually to the other, again and again, until her shoulders tilted in opposite time with her hips, and her breasts rocked to the left and right before him in slow motion. He tried to speak, but couldn't. "You'll let me have it, won't you?" she asked breathlessly. "You'll let me slip my dick inside." "No." "Succumb to me." Her hands slid to the shaft's base so that her thumb tips touched beneath her navel. She gave her hips a quick, forward jerk followed by two more, sending the dick bobbing, and he was mesmerized. A smirk crept onto her face at how easily she'd caught him, and she seized the cock to wave it rapidly, shattering his fascination. Realizing he was lost, he slumped. As her lusty gaze bore down on him he grew heavier, and dropped to his knees at her feet in agony. Victorious, she regained her composure with a sigh. "When you're one of two lovers, both of whom have dicks, Russ, you seem to fold rather quickly," she mused, "provided the other has wiles as compelling as mine. Would all men be as compliant in your situation, I wonder?" She put her hands on her hips, and balanced a booted heel on his thigh. "How about I give you a taste of the limitless energy women need to do all your cooking and cleaning, big boy?" Twenty minutes later, she was clutching his hips through black driving gloves, and with her attention far in the distance and her torso flawlessly erect, she mechanically sent pounds from her pelvis into his naked, bent-over form. The shiny leather cylinders sheathing her calves were generously spaced, allowing the lambda of her thighs and buttocks to rocket at his disintegrating ass repeatedly and with perfect regularity. Bang bang bang it came, totally destroying all traces of his resistance to her, and his only thought during the barrage was admiration of her physical ability and stamina. She continued the assault with brutal efficiency, and not a twinge of pity. At nine o'clock, a bell rang and the strap-on fucking concluded. "Right on time," she said, glancing at a wall clock. Holding his butt still, she stepped back and out of him, removed her hands, and walked briskly but casually to the door. He continued to lean on the ottoman as he had while she was taking him. When she returned it was with a spectacled girl who had a blond ponytail, and was dressed in bell bottomed slacks, an orange leather coat, and a thick, wool turtleneck sweater. "Russ, this is my girlfriend, Tammy. Don't get up. Wait, I told you I'm gay, didn't I? I think I did." "Hi, Russ," the young woman said, and began disrobing. "Tammy likes it rough and in the ass. You're going to give it to her. It's a little token of my gratitude for your endurance. That's sweet of me, don't you agree?" "Yes," he whispered. The new addition had stripped to a full-body, black latex cat suit, and had removed her glasses and hair tie. "Here?" she asked Margaret. The brunette nodded, and Tammy bent over the antique couch. With a contortionist's dexterity she reached between her legs to her lower back and pulled a hidden zipper open to her crotch, fully exposing her anus to Russ. Then she turned a pout at him. "Penetrate me." "She'd better scream," Margaret said. The boy summoned what little strength he had left and staggered over to Tammy's rear. An erection came quickly to him, and he slid painfully into her dry cavity. She snorted. "He's not very big." Russ pumped her listlessly. In only a moment, Margaret's dick was ravaging his asshole, and her chiseled, cotton-covered abdomen and hard, denim-bound legs were pressing on him. "No," he moaned, still confusedly trying to fuck Tammy. "Don't tell me you didn't see this coming," the woman in black scoffed, and demonstrated her mastery of the two bodies with a series of powerful thrusts. The blond exploded in delighted laughter. "Welcome to our club." "Yes, welcome," the girl echoed, and Russ ejaculated inside her. I arrived on the scene early next morning to find a moving truck departing. Margaret was loading dry cleaning into the back of Tammy's car, which was filled with small boxes. "Where have you been, at some séance?" "It was an all-night study session." "Oh, I've had one of my own." "What's going on?" "I'm moving out," Margaret said. "Sorry. I guess you'll have to scratch to find my half of the rent this month." "Why? Where are you going?" "I'm joining Tammy's sorority. I'll be living in their house, now." "That's mine," I said, noticing an old book through the window of the car. Margaret reached in and extracted it. "It's nothing special," she said, examining the volume. "You can keep it." She dropped the tome on the grass. "All the really juicy stuff has been moved out already." "You're stealing from me? My books?" "You don't know what to do with them." She drew close to me. "This thing is real, Samantha. It's power. I've used it." "What have you been doing?" "While you're locked in your room at night learning how to finger yourself, I've been figuring things out. I've subjugated two people." "Who?" "What does it matter? The first of many. Join our group. Help me spread this knowledge to women who can profit from it. Stop hoarding it with those biddies." I laughed in her face. "Start some dyke army to enslave the men? As ridiculous as it sounds, that's been tried before. It didn't end well." "No, you don't see. We'll forge a new sexuality, the irresistibility of the feminine combined with the aggressiveness of the male, something greater than both." Tammy honked the horn angrily. "You have no idea what you're doing. You'll fail." She smiled at me. "It's begun," she said, and got in the car. "Someday, you'll wish you'd followed me." They drove away. My misplaced trust caused one of the greatest security breaches we've ever suffered. It has been my mission to put right what happened, but evidence of the spread of Margaret's characteristic practices has grown wildly in recent years, and our archives overflow with reports concerning her notorious sorority. I continue to struggle nevertheless to recover our pilfered materials, and teach healthy, harmonious doctrines wherever they're received. I maintain also that in the right circumstances even a manifestation of the Goddess is possible, and such an occurrence would vindicate those who believe that whatever Margaret's wishes, her actions are merely part of a larger design of providence, and thus, in some way, for the best. Goldenrod Prequel Ch. 02 "Black Silk Entertainment, Roger speaking. How may I help you?" "My name is Jamie, and I'm looking for a male escort." "Alright, Jamie, have you used our service before?" "No." "Fine, let me tell you how this works. Our contractors model clothing and role-play. They do not have sex with clients. Is that clear?" "Yes, but I imagined I'd be the one wearing the special attire." "Okay, what do you have in mind?" "My interest is penetrating a man with a strap-on. I mean, pretending to." He paused. "Please hold." Some terrible music came on the line, and there was a loud click. Then, I heard a quiet ringing. After a few moments, a woman's voice answered. "Yes?" "My name is Jamie. I was hiring a guy for a pegging fantasy." "Very good. Take down the following location," she said, and I wrote what she recited. "May we expect you today at four?" "I'm not sure. Do you accept cash?" "We don't have fees." "How come?" "This is a dating service. The man you'll meet is not our employee. We impose no restrictions on your behavior, token or otherwise." "Wait, if you won't accept money, why are you doing this?" "We're an affiliate of Black Silk. They occasionally farm talent from us, and all our funding comes from them. Shall I pencil you in?" "Yeah," I said. They had a large area on the first floor of the mall, between a major department store and the food court. Two young women stood in front of the door with clipboards, asking passing shoppers if they wanted to do a survey. The windows were blacked out and there was no sign indicating what was inside. All in all it wasn't welcoming, but that made it seem discrete. The lobby walls were lined with chairs, most of which were occupied by teenage girls filling out what looked like application documents. I approached the front desk and gave my name to the receptionist, a blond with glasses whose name tag read Tammy. She smiled warmly and asked me to grab a seat, insisting someone would be right with me. While I was sitting, a young woman in a lab coat emerged from the nest of cubicles, and called out, "Michelle?" In response, a tall, lithe black girl stood up and accompanied her to the testing zone. Two minutes later another incredibly fit, beautiful woman appeared, this one white and wearing her dark hair tied back in a bun, a midriff-baring red and silver sports top, black bicycle shorts, and white socks with sneakers. She strode confidently to me with an outstretched hand and introduced herself as Karen. "I'm Jamie," I said as we shook. "No trouble getting past our security, I see." I looked at the clipboard ladies in the main artery. "Them?" "We prefer to wear a friendly face. It simplifies things. Please." she said, and gestured for me to enter the labyrinth of gypsum. Each of us took a seat in her small office. "So, you're interested in pegging." "What is all this?" "How do you mean?" "This operation, what are you doing here?" "Didn't they tell you on the phone? We bring people together." "In a mall?" She shrugged. "We can't afford to be hidden." "But you are, really." "Yes, in plain sight. Jamie, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself, and I'll see if we can be useful to you. That might be the best way for you to learn more about us." "Okay. What do you want to know?" "Whatever you feel like sharing. We didn't have to sift you under false pretenses, as we do those teenyboppers you saw. You came to us. Tell me what you're seeking." "Well, I want to fuck a man, basically." "Alright." "You can see I'm very mannish. A lot of people mistake me for a guy. Like when me and my boyfriend are out running we dress the same, in t-shirts and interlock shorts. We look like we're on a track team." "Your boyfriend won't let you peg him?" "I haven't asked." "You're afraid he'll say no?" "I'm not sure. I think he'd want it, but if he says yes I want to be ready for him, to give him something he'll remember, not to fumble. I want some practice, to learn if it's for me. This way, through a service, I thought it wouldn't be cheating. I'd also be doing it for him." Karen gazed at me thoughtfully. "I think we can help you. Tell me, are you prepared to try it today, or would you need a little more time?" "No, I came here to do it now." The woman smiled. "I admire your enthusiasm. I'll be happy to assist you." I took a deep breath. "Thanks." "Your story is quite common, actually. In fact," she said, and punched a few computer keys as she looked at a monitor, "there are two people ahead of us in Room Three. Then it should be available. Would you like to get ready?" "Yes, please." On the intercom she instructed Tammy to hold her calls, unless it was someone named Margaret. We took a hallway that was padded with blue foam panels to the rear extreme of the rented space. Karen entered an unlit room without waiting for me, which gave me a chance to examine a wheeled laundry cart that was filled two-thirds up with generic climbing harnesses, each of which had a five-inch green plastic dildo affixed to it by some industrial adhesive. Paused there, I saw two hard-bodied young women in gray sweat suits walking down an adjacent corridor carrying boxes, one that contained rolled up yoga mats and the other full of printed t-shirts. After they turned a corner, I heard a muffled round of applause from a room in the opposite direction. "Magnificent, isn't she?" Karen's voice reminded me of our purpose, and I joined her in the dim chamber. Her sculpted silhouette stood before an observation window, through which she watched a pale, shapely girl in a strap-on take a man doggy style on a plain bed. "Anna is blessed with great physical potency, but she lacks your psychological disposition for the act. Don't let that long, pretty hair fool you. Within her is a spring of masculine vigor." From around the speaker's muscular arm I saw the subject rest her hands on the lower back of her victim, who she invaded repeatedly with gentle taps of her slightly jiggling thighs. Her raven mane hung above the man as she tested a variety of insertion techniques and remained attentive for any reaction, every stroke landing with faintly more insistence than the one that fell before it. A red bulb went on over the door in the lab, and the girl immediately withdrew the latex cock, stood up on the floor, and casually strolled through the portal and out of view, naked except for the harness she was wearing. The man remained on all fours, and let his head sag below his shoulders. The warning light shut off. "This next case is the complete reverse. Tess is thoroughly boyish but lacks the power, speed, and accuracy to realize her sexual aims." As she spoke a tan, skinny girl with short, bushy blond hair and a small bust entered the mock bedroom. Beneath her harness she wore black leggings, but otherwise she was naked. Already lubed, she climbed onto the bed behind the waiting man, seized his waist, and sat back on her ankles. She scanned his ready torso and lifted her pelvis to him. With one careful pump, she violated his loosened asshole. After placing her hands on the sheet at either side of his midsection, she gracelessly and frantically humped his backside. "You should strap-on," Karen said confidentially. "She won't last very long." I nodded. I undressed before a full length mirror that hung on the wall, and let my clothes pile up on a desk chair. Karen evaluated me dutifully as grunts and cries were piped into the room from the microphones mounted above Tess. The man groaned pathetically as his ass rumbled. Opening the massive drawer of a metal filing cabinet, the woman searched for some items behind me, and I took stock of my features as they were reflected to me by the glass. My wild hair was a reddish brown, and fell just past my eyes from an off-center part. It framed a round, fresh face with rosy cheeks and huge blue eyes. Bronze was the color of my skin, and its full figure was solid like a boy's, minus the genital apparatus and with the addition of two tiny breasts. Suddenly I became conscious of Karen grinning down at me approvingly, and I turned to face her. "These could have been made for you," she beamed, holding out a shiny orange dildo and a bottom that evoked a g-string. The orgasmic symphony raged as I put them on. When I saw myself next I looked at an Adonis, the dick having merged perfectly with my natural hue and the limbs of my athletic form tensing and easing in anticipation of the exercise to come. I joined Karen again at the screen. Though she didn't look at me, I could sense her awareness of my latent energy. "It's almost time," she intoned. We watched silently as the blond approached her climax. Fingering the thin black cord around the base of my new shaft, I studied Tess as she had the man. Her upper half remained motionless above him except for her quivering lips, but the pounding of her hips relentlessly softened his ass for me. Unconsciously measuring myself against her, I felt contempt for her lack of strength and agility, and itched to show her up. Maybe I wanted to prove myself to Karen. I tested the snugness of the minimal rig around me and found it secure, reminded more than a little of an elaborate Japanese bondage knot. The audio output had dwindled to nothing as the doll concentrated on her pleasure. "Both of these girls can fuck a man, though one lacks spirit, and the other ability," Karen said. "In you I see their drive and strength combined. There should be nothing stopping you." Tess reached her peak at that moment, simultaneously lunging forward and grinding her hips about once per second. She moaned with every hard thrust. "Our associate is obviously broken in, and he'll prove up to your challenge. Don't worry about hurting him." The light came on in the lab. After sliding out of her target, the subject sat at the edge of the bed and calmed herself for a minute. Then, she rose and exited the room. "Oh, and Jamie?" I turned my head to the tall woman as I waited at the inner passage. With a subdued whoosh the door slid open and the bulb went off. My fists swelled. "Have fun." At that, I smiled, and went in. When the perimeter sealed automatically behind me I glanced at the spot where Karen was standing, and found the window was a mirror on my side. Another sweep of the chamber revealed the man patiently balancing on all fours and a bottle of lube on the nurse's table. I squeezed out some of the cold, clear gel and liberally coated my rod. Hesitating a moment, I planned my attack. The first thing I did was reach out for his thighs and pull them to me. That caused his shins to slide off the bed, and he positioned his feet squarely on the floor. As quickly as he stood up I shoved his trunk back down with a firm hand on his neck, and he supported himself with his hands on the sheet, and his elbows up beside his shoulders. His legs moved apart in an unsuccessful attempt to steady his hips, which put him in exactly the pose that I wanted. I pointed the metallic dick at his sphincter and stood up on my toes to lean over him, letting my weight alone accomplish the invasion. When the cock was unceremoniously buried I fell gently on his back, and let my arms slink around his from below so that I was able to interlace my fingers in the hair at the base of his skull. Alarm and confusion stiffened his muscles, but there was no possibility of escape anymore. "Down," I ordered, and he slid forward onto his forearms. We both dropped a couple inches, but I maintained my lock on his upper body and kept the phallus tightly planted within him. As if enjoying a swing set I sent my hips to and fro placidly to chart my range of movement. He must have wondered what was going on. Slowly I unfurled myself atop him, and then clenched my thighs, buttocks, and abdomen as violently as I could. I settled into a relaxed state, and struck again. Then, I did it once more. It happened a fourth time. A series of vicious bucks brutally stabbed the man's ass. The action was so quick and precise it resembled a cartoon made from only two images. In, out, hard, soft, the force came mercilessly and regularly. "Don't kill him, Jamie," Karen's voice pleaded over a loudspeaker. I felt the volunteer droop beneath me. After straightening up I placed my hands on his hips and plumbed him leisurely, a sneer marring my formerly impassive face. The crumbling resistance to the advancing dildo excited me, and I began another two-part sequence: the first had me bent over, gripping his hips at a distance; the second had my spine erect and his butt drawn to my crotch. Chewing on my lips, I focused on the flawless execution of the routine. Though the plan had been to stop like a boy after I'd come, the ecstasy thrashing inside me couldn't deter my single-minded pursuit of total anal dominance. The locomotion continued for an hour, peppered by insults and slurs that I spat at my bitch. "You like that! You fucking love it, don't you?" "Yes!" he screamed. "Take my fucking dick!" My powerful slamming accelerated so that my sexy thighs were banging his, urging him closer and closer to shooting his own wad. He bellowed inarticulately and I went over the edge. "Oh, God, yes!" I cried, and came for the final time that afternoon, in unison with the recipient of my aggression. In a fit of blind fury I pulled out of him and stuck my foot on his hip to push his helpless hide off the mattress. He dragged the twisted bedding with him, which in turn caught the end table and sent it on its side, causing bottles and metal instruments to clatter and scatter all over the floor. My fists out at my sides, I looked up at the ceiling and roared. A week later, Karen called me. "Wow, it's great to hear your voice," I said. "It's nice to speak with you, too." "I mean it, you've changed my life. Things are so much better since we met." "Oh? How is your boyfriend handling this transformation?" "Well, I guess you could call him my girlfriend, now." She laughed. "Wonderful." "It's funny, because I saw his mom wearing one of your t-shirts last night, and she asked me about his new passivity, as she called it. I burst out laughing. It turns out she's been fucking his dad in the ass for two months." "It truly is a small world." "Thanks, Karen. I owe you a lot." "I'm glad I could help. And I'm thrilled to hear you're grateful, because I'm calling on behalf of the agency, Black Silk." "Oh, yeah?" "Indeed, a corporate magnate is one of their customers, and lately his tastes have been tending toward the exotic. They feel it's time to slip him a bonus. After reading the file, I thought instantly of you. Tell me, would you be interested in making the delivery?" "Absolutely. Count me in, I'll be eager to help." "Yes," she said. "I knew you would." Goldenrod Prequel Ch. 03 I saw a circle turning. It felt like I was tied to it, or maybe it was taking me somewhere, but it didn't seem like a car tire. A wagon wheel is what it reminded me of, with big carved spokes, and each one of them was like a clock hand. When I woke, we were driving, and I had my head on Rebecca's shoulder. She had her arm around me. Her smile greeted my tired eyes through the kaleidescope of passing tree shadows, and I settled against her to fall back asleep. Resisting fatigue, I muttered. "How far?" "Another hour." As she kissed my head I knew it was okay to slumber. It was just her and me in her huge red pick-up truck, winding up leisurely into the mountains. We'd been together for three months. She was my first serious thing after high school, but she'd gone through one marriage and several relationships, though of those she didn't say much. It was at a bookstore that she'd approached me, offering to pay for some item which I discovered too late I couldn't afford. A short stroll to the adjacent coffee shop let us get to know each other. Her hair was a wild sandy brown, and the way her firm body filled out her tight, dark bluejeans and suede jacket left me utterly captivated. I regret not being able to listen closely to the things she said, because she was brilliant always well-spoken, but as we hunched over our stale pastries and frappes and laughed about this or that, I heard her confess it was my ass that had convinced her to approach me. We made love that night. Since then she'd been helping me to postpone college, and otherwise totally corrupting me. I think she felt bad because of the damage it was doing to my self-esteem, her keeping me, but she only made up for it by pampering me all the more. We were both living on a cliff's edge, anticipating the separation that would reveal the extent of my habitual helplessness, yet wondering if it would ever come. Until it did I had the thrill of being the lover of a radiant, fascinating older woman, and she had whatever it was that she got from being with me. At the cabin, I had a view of the breathtaking scenery that seemed assembled on the horizon just for our enjoyment. She removed the bags from the bed with an ease that I'd grown accustomed to ignoring, despite my chivalrous nature and proper upbringing. I think she in turn was used to seeing me dazzled by things from her world. "Don't fly away," she chided. "It's beautiful." "Damn," I heard her say softly. I turned to see her studying a rosebush by the front door. She hefted the luggage and went inside. After another glimpse of the verdant range beneath us, I made to see what she'd been looking at. They made me think of silkworms. For all I knew, that's what they were. A multifaceted jewel of web had encased many of the struggling blooms as the industrious creatures ate and crawled. Rebecca appeared in the doorway with her hands on the frame above her. "Maybe you can kill those for me later." "Okay. I'll try." "It's true what they say about mountain air, isn't it?" I stared at her broad, friendly face with its feline eyes, suddenly aware that she was glowing. Before she could set me off, she asked, "Want to go for a hike?" As usual, I was rendered helpless by her charms. We traversed a wide, sparsely wooded valley, a small stream, and the curving side of a hill. When we got back I was exhausted, and took another nap. That time, I dreamed of the worms in the garden eating all the leaves, and covering the cabin and its surrounding area in their white, wispy strands. The day was done when I woke up in the bedroom, and my initial thought was a fear that I'd ruined my sleep cycle. A slight electronic buzzing drew me out. Rebecca was sitting at her laptop beside a small fire. Otherwise, the interior was dark. I shambled over to her, and she took my hand. "You get internet out here?" She nodded, licking her lips and putting her mug down. "It's satellite. I'm always connected." "What are you doing?" I peered at the text hazily. She quickly Xed-out the chat she'd been in, leaving a chart of statistics. "I'm on break. Some work piled up while we were heading here." She moved the mouse arrow among different values on the grid, highlighting some and deleting others. Her hand came away from mine to hit digits on the keyboard that appeared in rectangles on the screen. A window popped up featuring hundreds of names of different types, all of which had locations and summaries after them. "Those are your clients?" I asked. "Yep. I have to remember their needs, keep in contact, be sensitive to cultural differences when speaking to them, and more. It requires a lot of care, but for a business today a lag can be fatal." "I can't remember a birthday." She laughed quietly, watching the monitor for changes being made in real time to the data from afar. "This guy's a real pig," she grumbled, pointing at a thumbnail of a man, "at least by Western standards. I have to alternate between male and female perspectives so much I think I've started to dissociate from my body." She turned up at me. "I guess it's a good thing the Information Age doesn't require much heavy lifting." I recollected how little trouble she'd had with our suitcases. Her interest centered completely on the task she'd set herself, and I hovered there dumbly for a moment. Then I meandered toward the bedroom. When I got there I thought about how I'd kill those worms in the bush outside, and I noticed some books on the shelf of the open closet. I switched on the light to see their titles. They were all economics textbooks, and too boring to read. My next thought was to find a jigsaw puzzle or something similar to occupy myself. A comforter came down on my head as I rummaged around, and after it a shoe box that landed quietly on the fallen bedspread, sending photos tumbling out. As I gathered them up, I glanced at some. The snapshots were of women, dozens at least, at a rural retreat. Most were in t-shirts of different colors, black spandex pants, and sneakers, and the better part of the pictures had been taken outdoors. Some were in what resembled a ski lodge, or a summer camp's cafeteria. In a few the ladies brandished trophies, others had them posing arm in arm, and more were stills of an obstacle course being run. I was about to replace the last of the photos when I winced. "What the fuck?" I whispered. On the profile of one woman in a shiny, form-fitting bottom was the distinctive bulge of a penis. Another image had the same trait. Then I saw a third. When I examined any photo, I found the females in it packing meat, or a simulation of it. A happy, skinny redhead in a yellow tee flexed her biceps, and her crotch swelled. A stocky girl in a bathing cap and a soaked t-shirt, smiling at the photographer as she stepped into a lakeside shower, had a thick swell in her men's boxer briefs. One woman smirked proudly down from a ridge with her shoulders back as her dick saluted in her green gym shorts, the sun's rays crowning her head. Two jogging blonds both sported erections. "This has to be fake," I mumbled. That was when I saw Rebecca, posing for a photo, half-embracing a hippie girl with a devilish grin. Neither was without a tool in her pants. The picture paper-clipped to that one showed them kissing in more normal clothes, and without the phallic prostheses. They were standing at the rosebush by the front of the cabin. Suddenly nauseous, I picked up all the snapshots, stuffed them into their container, put it away, and turned off the bulb. I trudged over to the bed, and got under the covers. After a couple minutes, I realized I could hear Rebecca typing. I didn't sleep, but kept motionless on my side for hours. My thoughts flew as madly in my head as her fingers did on their keys. Finally she came to the door, and called out. "Matt?" I paused, but replied. "I'm awake." She crept across the floor in the low light, clearly energized by her titanic digital labors. Her hands fell upon me and we kissed. A moment later her leg swung over my midsection so she was mounted atop the blanket. I waited as she hesitated on her knees, in the darkness. "What is it?" She removed her leg and tore the bedding away. Then she grabbed me by the upper arms, and repositioned my body until my head and feet had switched places, and I was again on my back. As she remounted, her lips again reached mine. Her hips ground carefully in time with the gentle lunges of her torso. Immediately I realized that we weren't joined in foreplay, but that she had skipped ahead to later stages, and was steadily getting off. Unsure of her wishes, I stroked the taut denim on her solid thighs, and took a light hold of her alluring hips, but without changing her subdued rhythm at all she lifted both her hands from their places beside my head, broke my grips, put my arms down on the bed at my sides, and returned the forward supports of her posture to the mattress. I gulped and remained still to let her use me, gradually becoming conscious of a division in her attention. Something was on her mind that wasn't orgasmic pleasure, but which had forced her to economize the effort she could spend to relieve her sexual tension. It was as if dry humping me was all she had time for, though we would be together the whole week. "Yes," she cried through stifled laughter. "Mm," she insisted under a current of choked sobs. She was having no problem coming from rubbing her pelvis on me, it was obvious. When her spine arched and she gasped sharply, I caught sight of her face in the weak illumination given by the distant monitor. Her gaze had stayed locked on the stream of data output while she'd ridden my stationary form. There was a chime from the machine as a message arrived for her. "Shit." She instantly peeled herself away. "Don't wander off," she said without taking her focus from the screen, and left. Her vocal reactions to the news indicated she wouldn't be horny anytime soon, and I drifted into oblivion. In my dream, the wooden wheel was turning, this time part of a loom. It spun a fine cord that slowly changed from pale, to gray, to shining black. I followed the line to its source and recoiled in horror at the vision that greeted me; a thick, sickly-pale worm perched loyally on Rebecca's thigh as she sat naked on a square pedestal of obsidian. Her satisfaction at my presence was lascivious and evil. She raised a beckoning hand as the monster on her leg busily spat its hideous product, inviting me to sit by her. Bound at the ankles in the coiling fiber, I began to rotate where I stood like a spindle, until the rising sheath of ebony mummified me. Waking from the nightmare, I cried out. Night hung at the window like a curtain, but I wasn't certain of the date anymore. I clambered out of bed and coughed. At the door I looked for signs of Rebecca. The fire had shrunk to embers but in its faint red I could discern the shoe box on the desk beside her charging laptop. Halfway to it, I froze at the sound of her voice. "You're up early." She was sitting on a stool by the counter with a cup of tea next to her. A large v-neck short-sleeved shirt was all she wore. "What's that?" I asked coyly, tilting my head at the photos. She got up and walked to me. Standing at my arm, she exhaled loudly through her nose, and tried to smile. "Nothing," she said, eventually. She picked up the box. "It's a part of my life I've put behind me." I was convinced she'd throw it on the smoldering ashes. Instead she brought it into the bedroom, and shut the door. Unable to sleep but feeling empty, I went out on the patio. It flattened the top of a steep hill with smooth granite plates, and provided a perfect vantage for the approaching dawn. I sat in one of the long, low chairs, comfortable in the cool morning breeze. Everywhere the day prepared to explode into being. "Matt." At the opened glass door, Rebecca was wearing only a shimmering, open black robe, and a black latex bikini bottom from which protruded a featureless black rod, about six inches in length. She glided to me silently and raised my hand from its rest on my abdomen. I met her willingly. We kissed as she ran her fingers through my hair, massaging the alertness from me. Her other hand curled around my waist. Still sucking my breath out, she undid my belt and then pushed down on my pants, to banish them. Repelled from her by red nails at my chest, I obeyed her unspoken command and discarded my sweater. She let the silk fall about her to the pavement at our feet. Prepared to be taken, I watched on all fours as the east began to bleed and her thumbs traced spirals on my lower back. Birds sang and the forest stirred. From out of the chaos of night clouds assumed their shapes. The corona climbed at last across the tree tops, and her blunt end punctured me. I hissed and gritted my teeth but it continued to come, and when the first hard beam seared my retinas she slid the thick plastic determinedly in, splitting my ass and probing my endurance. Sensation poured in through the gates of my senses. Rather than churn it she held me fast as if we were a stone sphinx with its confused set of qualities. She let the pose saturate its environment like a yoga stance, so we could live in that moment forever. In my memory, we do.