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All Things to All People

By: dweaver999



Lab accident

Cynthia Halverston carefully measured the last reagent to be added to the solution. "Please let this mixture work." She thought to herself. The 26 year old grad student had been working on this project for over a year and was beginning to despair that her theory was actually correct. She had gotten the idea from a fellow student over in biology, Dave Reston. 

He had been studying a new species of mouse that had recently been discovered in the Amazon. He commented to her in passing that the males of the species had the unusual ability to precipitate heat in the females, rather than wait for the normal cycle of estrus. It wasn't something that they did consciously, but under certain environmental conditions, they secreted a hormone that caused the female to become fertile.

He seemed oblivious to the ramifications of this find. If the hormone could be synthesized and made compatible with human physiology, it would make the perfect fertility drug. Current methods of fertility enhancement led to a predominance of multiple births, sometimes to the detriment of the children themselves. While her advisor had scoffed at the need for a new fertility drug for a society that was eschewing parenthood, he had allowed her to adopt the project as her doctoral research project.

The hormone was incredibly easy to synthesize. That she had accomplished in a few weeks. It was the compatibility issues that were the thorn. Every attempt to inject the hormone into human cells led to a rapid degeneration of the cell membranes and cell death in a matter of days. Obviously this would not do. Her last test, mixing a touch of potassium chlorinate into the hormone had been a desperate grasp at straws. The chemical was normally poisonous, but its action as a poison was to harden cell walls so much as to make them impermeable to everything, including nutrients.

The effect was promising. The poison killed the cells in the same way it normally did, but over a much longer time period. That seemed to indicate she was on the right track. She just needed to use less of the potassium chlorinate. Cynthia had the reagent measured out just right now. She added it to the filtration array and set the automated system to filter out any incidental impurities and mix the reagents under moderate temperatures. Looking at her watch, she saw that she still had time to make her date with Rob.

Freed from worrying about her experiment for a while, she could turn to her tension over Rob. Rob Fresnik had been dating Cynthia for almost a year now. All this time, he had respected her wishes to not cross the line in their relationship. Her family, while not religious, had firmly taught her that sex was for marriage. It surprised even her that she had managed to avoid sex through out her undergraduate and masters programs. College was not a hotbed of sexual conservatism, after all. It helped that she threw herself into her studies, rendering her unavailable for dates on a regular basis. Rob, her longest steady date ever, was beginning to pressure her into sex. Nothing physical, but hints that their continued relationship would soon depend on her acquiescing.

She used the chemical spill shower stall to change into the outfit she brought for her date. While she was still a virgin, she had no qualms about showing off her body, in a subtle way. Over a pair of lace panties and bra, she slipped into a deep purple dress. The dress had no arms and a neckline that dropped to between her firm breasts, revealing enough cleavage to promise, but not enough for easy access. Down to just above her knees, she could, if she chose, flash provocatively without revealing anything. One last look at herself in her reflection on the glass door of the stall, she pronounced herself a hot tease and headed out for what might be a night on the town.

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

What she did not notice as she walked by the filtration system, percolating away, was a small crack in the glassware, allowing a nearly invisible stream of vapor to escape. Being odorless, she did not notice it as she inhaled the partially mixed chemicals deep into her lungs. From there, the compound was absorbed by her blood and delivered throughout her body, especially to her brain. The effects there continued through the course of the night. Certain cells withered and died. Others became more active, firing at unnaturally high rates. The effects were to be unfortunate for Cynthia.

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

Rob was waiting outside the science building, ready to escort Cynthia to his car. "Cynthia, you look magnificent tonight."

"Thank you Rob. You're not looking too bad yourself. And where is my handsome prince taking me tonight?"

"I thought we would have dinner at The Olive Garden and then take in movie. 'The Accidental Tourist' is playing at the metro."

"Another winning plan by the master of dating." Cynthia and Rob both laughed.

They talked about trivial things on the drive to the restaurant. The popular Italian eatery had its usual 30 minute wait. Thankfully this was not the weekend where waits could extend to a full hour or more. While they waited, Rob asked, "How's that research of yours going?"

"Frustrating, but there is a window of hope. I just can't get the synthetic hormone to interact safely with human cells. My latest attempt involves trying to combine two substances, the hormone and a chemical, that have opposite toxic effects in the hope that they counteract each other toxically, but leave the main effect of the hormone intact. That's what's running right now in the lab."

While she was talking, Cynthia noticed the aromas from the restaurant were stronger than they usually were. Her mouth was watering in anticipation with her stomach accompanying with a steady growl. She was also noticing just how hot Rob was tonight. His nearness brought on a giddiness in her loins. She realized that she wanted him. "Good lord. How did I get so horny tonight? If this keeps up, I'll try to ravish him tonight. He certainly won't mind that. He's been trying to organize a mutual ravishing session for months."

Cynthia's dinner was the best she had eaten in a long time. The flavors and aromas had her awash in sensual pleasure. Rob noticed how little she was talking during dinner. "She must have skipped lunch again. She's always getting lost in her work." His thoughts were reinforced when Cynthia asked for dessert. Normally, the generous portions at Olive Garden took dessert off the menu. "She certainly seems to be enjoying her food more than normal. I wonder what's up?"

Once the meal was finished, they headed for the Cineplex, getting there with 10 minutes to spare. Cynthia surprised Rob again by asking for popcorn. "Popcorn after all that dinner?" He shrugged his shoulders and indulged her.

Cynthia should have been concerned as well, but the tantalizing aroma of freshly popped and buttered popcorn overwhelmed her senses. She just had to have some. During the movie, which she did not watch with much interest, she savored the incredible taste of the butter and popcorn, slowly chewing each handful. She also was finding Rob's attractiveness growing. It was as it he was becoming everything she wanted in a man as the minutes passed. She was actually becoming aroused by being next to him. And that cologne he was wearing! It was fabulous.

After the movie Rob offered to take her for a night cap, but she declined, asking to go home. Disappointed, he turned towards her apartment. He wasn't surprised though. She had seemed so distracted tonight. He had wanted to make a move towards sex, but thought better of it. He didn't want her to say yes because she was distracted, but because she wanted it.

At the apartment, he walked her to the door. "I had a good time. I hope you did as well."

Cynthia, overwhelmed by lust, startled him, "Who said the night was done? Would you like to come inside?"

"Are you sure that's what you want, Cynthia?"

"Oh yes. I've wanted you inside all night. Please, take me inside."

In the back of her mind, Cynthia knew something was not quite right. She never thought she would be so forward. But she wanted this more than she could explain. Rob was so hot and she was desperately hot for him. She just knew that if they didn't screw tonight, she would regret it. She was already highly aroused with pussy dripping and nipples erect. More than that, her whole body was craving his touch. She wanted to bury her face in him and inhale his manly essence, making it a part of her.

The two stepped inside the apartment and Rob closed the door behind them. As he turned back, Cynthia was reaching up to hug him tightly to herself. She breathed deeply, moaning in pleasure as she did. Rob reached around her and held her close to him. He could feel her stiff nipples poking through the fabric of her bra and dress. His cock, having started to grow erect when she invited him in was finishing the job, straining against his pants.

He kissed her and she responded aggressively, her tongue almost warring against his. She could smell more of him with each second that passed. With their mouths locked together she tasted him as well. To Cynthia, he tasted even better than the pasta and popcorn from earlier. The kiss broke long enough for the two to catch their breath and then she was back at him, greedily ravishing Rob's mouth.

While Cynthia pressed as close as possible, Rob lifted her slightly and moved towards the sofa. Sitting the two of them down. As Cynthia's rear end touched the sofa, she became aware of the tremendous need deep inside her body. She needed not just his mouth, but all of him. The clothes were in the way, she realized. "I must get us out of these clothes," she thought vehemently to herself. Pulling away from the kiss, she reached for Robs shirt, fumbling with the buttons in her haste. Once his shirt was opened up, she ran her hands through the hair on his chest, thinking how wonderful his body felt. She leaned forward and took a long, slow lick of his chest, shuddering at the magnificent taste of his sweat.

Rob, amazed at the transformation that had come over his normally demure girlfriend, finished taking his shirt off. While she nuzzled and fondled his chest and nipples, he slipped her dress down from her shoulders, exposing her beautiful breasts, displayed like trophies in the lace of her bra. He massaged them through the lace, evoking cries of "Oh Yes" from her. She lifted one hand to her back and tore the clasp holding the bra in place, letting it fall into his hands, which dropped it quickly.

He pulled her away from his chest, causing a whimper of frustration from her, until he leaned into her chest and began to return the oral caresses to her breasts. She sighed in pleasure, running her hands through his hair and across his back. As his tongue moved around her nipples, teasing them with unfinished closeness, she would thrust her chest towards him, trying to entice him to pay attention to her sensitive nubbins. He toyed with her, forcing them to get even harder before he swiped at them with his tongue and lips. 

When he finally took her nipples into his mouth, she cried out inarticulately with pleasure. Rob could smell the familiar aroma of a dripping cunt, desperate for attention. Keeping his mouth busy with her breasts, he slipped a hand down her torso, reaching into the partially disrobed dress. He could feel lace over her pussy, soaked through. He pressed against her through the panties, sparking cries of "Yes! Yes! Take me Rob, take me!" Her hips pushed against her hand, seeking more stimulation that he was willing to give right them.

He pulled his hand up and brought it to her groaning mouth. She sucked on the fingers greedily, desperate to taste him and herself mixed together. While she licked one hand, he slipped the other down and reached inside her panties. She was slick, her pussy lips engorged and reaching out as if to capture any stray cock that might happen along. He penetrated her with one finger, then two, to be rewarded with her hips bucking against his hand, literally fucking his hand.

Cynthia became aware of another aroma in the air. "Precum," she thought to herself. "I must have it." Her hands left his hair and back, moving lower and in front to strip those pants off that were denying her access to his glorious prick. Rob instinctively lifted his butt a little allowing her to pull his pants and brief down around his legs in one hard jerk. He winced as his erect member was briefly caught in the elastic which painfully pulled it back. Once it was free, her hands caressed the 9 inch cock, marveling at how perfect it felt. Her hands slicked with the precum that was leaking out, alternately coming up to her mouth ingest the savory fluid.

With his cock released, the aroma of his arousal filled the air, mixing with hers. She found the smell heady and intoxicating. She knew she had to have him, all of him. Pushing him back on the couch, she knelt beside him and brought her lips to his penis. She licked the cock from base to tip with slow long strokes, like she was licking a lollipop. Rob cried out in ecstasy at her ministrations. He knew that he would cum soon if she kept this up and he wanted to fuck her tonight. Her pulled her off after a few minutes, smiling at her whimpering.

He pulled her onto the couch and bent between her legs, tonguing her pussy. Her cries increased as he lapped at the juices that were covering her crotch, from ass crack to clit. An experienced cunt licker, he took Cynthia to the edge of orgasm and back more than once, her cries of pleasurable frustration music to his ears. For her part, Cynthia was desperate for release. But even more, she wanted all of him in all of her. She didn't know how to do it, but she needed it with the urgency of desert induced thirst.

In a brief moment between near climaxes, she cried out, "Fuck me Rob! I need you in me. Fuck me hard, please. I'm begging you Rob, fuck me now!"

Rob could wait no longer himself. He wanted her and he thrust his cock deep into her pussy, causing both to cry out in savage pleasure. There was no gentle loving making here. Both grabbed at each other, thrusting against one another with abandon. Rob didn't understand the change in Cynthia, but we was not going to complain. Over and over he impaled her, pulling almost all the way out and pounding all the way back in.

Cynthia went over the top first, screaming out her orgasm (they never heard the pounding on the ceiling from the upstairs neighbor). As her pussy clenched his cock over and over, the added stimulation sent Rob over the edge. With one last thrust, he buried himself inside her and shot his cum into her. As his hot spunk poured into her, Cynthia's climax restarted, drawing another scream from her. She clasped him close, not wanting to let him go, wanting his touch to last forever.

As his cock lost its stiffness, shrinking back to its un-aroused size, he leaned back, pulling out of her. She cried in frustration, wanting more of him. She bent forward, taking him into her mouth again, desperately sucking the mixture of his cum, her fluids and their combined sweat from his member. He moaned, partly in pleasure and partly in pain at the attention being given his overly sensitive member. Finally, unable to get any more from him, Cynthia laid back, basking in his mere presence. Exhausted, she fell asleep.

Rob was unsure what to do. He did not recall being invited to stay the night and he had to go to work in the morning. He opted to carry her to her bed, finish undressing her and pull the covers over her. He wrote a note for her when she woke up "I really enjoyed last night. I hope we can do it again. Please call me." Then he got dressed and left her alone, locking the door behind him. To himself, Rob admitted, "I don't want to be here if she wakes up with post sex regret. She behaved so differently tonight. I'm not complaining, but I don't want to suffer the consequences if she feels like she betrayed herself."

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

While she slept, the chemicals she unknowingly inhaled earlier continued their relentless assault on her brain cells. The damage was very localized. The cells in a certain portion of her frontal lobe continued to wither and die, weakening the function of that part of her brain. In a part of her medulla, more and more cells became hyperactive, attenuating the bodily functions that were controlled from there. These super active brain cells began to synchronize, making their controlled function more specific. Cynthia was being changed from the inside out by a relentless chemical assault that she had no idea, as of yet, was going on.

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

When Cynthia woke at 10:00, she was assaulted by the stench of dried sex and sweat. Struggling to identify the source, her memories of the night before came flooding back. "Oh My God! What was I thinking? Did I really drag Rob into my apartment and ravish him?" she silently asked herself. Feeling between her legs, her hand came back with a mixture of drying cum and her own juices. "It wasn't some erotic dream. What in the name of all that is holy came over me last night."

Trying to think, she could not recall her thoughts, just the incredible horniness she had felt and the overwhelming need to fuck Rob. She remembered that Rob had intended to be a perfect gentleman and walk her to the door and leave. SHE had practically dragged him in and threw herself at him. She did have to smile at the look on his face, a mixture of shock and desire that warred for supremacy. He was a willing participant for sure, but she had initiated the whole sexual escapade.

Looking at the clock, she realized that she had never set the alarm (of course not, she had fallen asleep on the sofa). She had to check on the experiment, see if the latest formulation had worked or not. Jumping in the shower, she washed the dried remains of the previous evening off. Putting a minimal amount of make up on, she dressed casual and headed out to the science building.

As she crossed the campus she could not help but notice how sexy the guys she passed were. Her eyes wandered over their crotches and asses, admiring the way the walked, wondering which ones were erect, who had fucked recently, if any of them found her desirable. About halfway there, she realized the directions of her thoughts were taking. "Cynthia," she thought to herself, "what has gotten into you? This is not normal. Get a hold of yourself."

She entered the chemistry wing of the building, reaching the door to her lab. As she was preparing to swipe her key card, her heart caught in her throat. Through the glass, she could see Philmore, the lab's pet rat. He was lying on his side, his tongue hanging loose, obviously dead. Running her eyes back and forth, she saw her filtration set up, picking up a hint of precipitate on one of the tubes. Taking no chances, Cynthia hit the contamination alarm, simultaneously sealing the lab and initiating a ventilation purge. An alarm began to sound.

Her advisor, Dr. Kevin Grange, was on the scene within a minute. "Cynthia! What's happened?"

"Dr. Grange. I was about to enter the lab when I noticed that Philmore was dead. Then I spotted precipitate on my equipment. I think my filtration equipment developed a leak over night. I was using potassium chlorinate. I felt it best to treat it as a potential contamination."

"Is there any chance of human contamination?"

"I don't believe so doctor. The lab log shows no one entered after I left last night. I saw no leak when I set it up, so it is likely contained within the lab."

"Good. We don't need that kind of trouble or the scrutiny it would bring. I want you to have your blood checked just in case. A low level exposure could still leave you with serious complications. Potassium chlorinate is nothing to take chances with. Will this set your work back much?"


All Things to All People Ch. 02



Diagnosis

What has gone on before...

Graduate student Cynthia Halverston was trying to develop a new fertility drug when she was poisoned by a partially mixed compound. The compound was, unbeknownst to her, changing the make up of her brain. What she does know is that since the accident, she has been unable to control the impulse to have sex with whatever men she has been around. In an attempt to figure out just what is happening to her, her friend Dave, a biology graduate student, is planning on breaking her into the university's vet school and getting a CT scan of her brain...

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

Cynthia was frightened. She has been throwing herself at men with abandon ever since the accident. It was getting worse with time. With Rob, it was simply a intense desire for sex, one that Rob was only too happy to accommodate. At the Frat house, she seemed to want each guy's unspoken desire, as if she could read their mind, or more like their minds were being forced upon her somehow. How would she react to Dave? Would he really ignore her advances and keep their friendship platonic in spite of her? 

Dave showed up at 1 AM just as promised. Cynthia steeled herself for the onrush of desire as she opened the door, coat on. Not surprisingly, she found Dave to be uncommonly attractive, the kind of man she would love to have pin her to the bed and ravish her, not taking no for an answer. 

"Cynthia, ready to go?"

"Anything you say."

Dave gave her a quizzical look and led her to the car. He took the precaution of not making any unneeded physical contact. Not knowing how this poison worked, and given that the male lab rat had masturbated itself to death, he wanted to be safe. Cynthia sat silently in the passenger seat, unmoving, but looking at Dave with an expression he could not place. For someone who has had trouble staying chaste near guys, she seemed awfully passive, almost as if she were waiting for something.

"Misty was unhappy with my request, but will have the machine ready to go by the time we're there. We'll have to be quiet. The school employs a security guard to keep an eye on the equipment and drugs on the premises." Dave instructed.

"I understand. What ever you say Dave."

Cynthia was becoming confused. While she found Dave incredibly sexy, she felt an incredible need to defer to him and do what he wanted, only what he wanted. While she was relieved to not be throwing herself at him, she had the feeling that if he were to ask, she would give him anything at all. That feeling was even more frightening than simply wanting some deviant form of sex from him. What was going on in her brain?

Dave parked in the back lot of the vet school. The two approached the door marked 'deliveries only' and Dave knocked two, pause, three, pause and two again. The door was opened by a redhead dressed in a tank top and shorts. "Come on. We have an hour before the guard should make his next rounds. We'll need most of that time running the scan."

She led them to a typical lab room filled with technological devices. A large machine filled the end of the room. A uncomfortable looking table seemed to slide in to an opening at one end. The opening was too small for a human body, but plenty large enough for a head.

"Cynthia?" the vet student asked.

"Yes."

"Lie down on the bench here." She said, pointing to the table.

Cynthia lay down with her head pointed towards the opening. The sterile white surfaces were harshly bright under the UV bulbs lighting the room.

"Now, you need to be absolutely still. We're not going to have a second chance to run this. That means no looking around, no fidgeting and no talking. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

The redhead stepped to the side and operated some controls. The table top moved into the machine, taking Cynthia's head with it. After a few seconds, the machine started humming and Cynthia struggled to keep her head still. Dave stood at her feet watching her. Unbidden, she had the mental picture of being tied up, unable to move. It would not have been a terrible image if not for the fact that the imagined Cynthia was naked and Dave was looking at her. Worse, she wanted it and more. She wanted Dave to immobilize and caress her body while it was helpless to resist.

The longer the scan went, the more she craved this experience. Somehow she knew that Dave wanted this too, though she could not imagine her friend, one of the most respectful people she knew, wanting such perversion. She fought with disgust as she came to understand that she would truly do anything he asked, no matter how revolting it was. She felt totally at his mercy, safe only because he did not ask anything of her.

Forty-five minutes and several fantasies Cynthia was trying to forget later, the table moved back out. "Okay, you two go over there. I need to finalize the scan and print out the results."

Cynthia and Dave waited over by the door to the lab. Cynthia's sense that Dave was everything she wanted in a man continued to grow stronger. She felt meek in his presence, but protected. The part of her mind that was operating normally wondered why there was so little sexuality involved with her feelings for him. At least she wasn't throwing herself at him.

"This can't be right." Misty barked. "Damn! We're going to have to do it again. You, get back over here!"

Dave, sensing a hint of panic in Misty's voice, asked, "What's wrong? Why do you have to do it again? Do we have time?"

The angry co-ed snapped, "The scan says she should be dead. Either I screwed up or the machine's broken. I'm going to have to monitor the operation in detail. That will take another hour at least. And no, we don't have the time, but if you want your girlfriend scanned, we'll have to take it." To herself she muttered, "I'll never bet him again."

"Come on Cynthia. Get back on the table and hold still." Dave told her.

"Yes sir."

Both Dave and Cynthia looked askance at the way she answered. Dave had also noticed the lack of a sexual response on Cynthia's part, but had been too busy worrying to question it. As Cynthia lay down, he said, "I'm going to try to buy some time with the guard by giving him something else to look into."

"Okay, but be careful. With the drugs on site, everyone will assume you're a junkie looking for a fix, or worse."

Dave slipped out of the lab, only half thinking of how to create a diversion that was enough to slow the guard down but not enough to call the police. The other half of his thoughts were on Cynthia's reactions, both to him and what she described earlier. Everything she described indicated that proximity was vital to the effects she was experiencing. Get close to a guy and she went all vamp on them, except in his case. If he were to pick a word that described her near him, it would be docile and submissive.

"Oh my." Dave thought. "how could she pick up on that. I wasn't even thinking about it. Wait a minute. With Rob, she wanted sex in general. The next day, she starts wanting what the guys are wanting. Tonight, she acts submissive to me. It's like she's reading thoughts. Not only that, she's getting better at it. She gets emotions from Rod, i.e. lust, conscious desires from the frat guys, and now things I'm not conscious of at the time. She's picking up desires from people and becoming what they want. She is in trouble."

Dave had reached the animal cages in another wing of the school. Stepping in, glad that the outer door was left unlocked to facilitate feeding, he went to one of the cat cages and carefully set the locking mechanism so that any pressure from inside would open it up. Then he did the same for one of the dogs. Lastly he opened on of the mice cages that faced away from the door. As soon as the rats wandered out, the cat would chase them and the dog would chase the cat. The animals had roused at his presence, so he knew things would get interesting soon. Moving quickly, he headed back to the lab.

He had to evade a guard in one of the bathrooms, but had returned to the lab in a total of 15 minutes. He mentally noted a confirmation of his proximity theory, seeing Misty and Cynthia arguing when he came in.

"Well, I'm sorry, if you want the mystery solved, you're just going to have to lie still, you dumb twit."

"You bitch! I'll have you know that I have a masters in chemistry and a bachelors in pharmacology. At least I don't have to settle for an easy major like veterinary science!"

Dave interrupted before they started shouting, or worse. "Girls! We don't have time for this. Cynthia, lie down and be still. Misty, operate the machine. We probably have an hour or so while the problem I created has the guard's attention."

Misty just fumed, turning to the controls. Cynthia settled down immediately and lay down with a meek, "Yes sir."

"Another confirmation." Dave thought to himself.

Misty ran the machine, satisfied that Cynthia was finally still. Step by step, she confirmed over the next 45 minutes that the scanner was operating perfectly and that the previous results were accurate. While neither was an expert, both could see something seriously wrong with Cynthia's brain. An entire section, small but there, had died off. It seemed to be nothing but dead tissue.

"What area of the brain is that?" the would be vet asked.

"I don't know. It seems to be part of the frontal lobe, where conscious thought resides. I would guess that some part of her ability to reason has been damaged, but I've noticed no problem in her thinking. What's this here?

He was pointing to a much brighter area, lower in the brain. Misty looked and answered, "That would be the medulla. It controls autonomic functions. It seems to be energized, operating far harder than normal. Is she experiencing any abnormal body functions?"

"I don't think so." Dave lied. He could not tell Misty about heightened sexual responses. And he was beginning to think that the problem was not sex but something more basic. He needed an expert in the human body and he knew who to ask. "Well, you've been a great help. We should get out of here before the guards corral the animals."

They started towards the back when footsteps echoed from the direction they were going. A flashlight beam illuminated the hall around a corner. "Blast, a guard! Make a break for it, back this way." Misty whispered.

She grabbed both their hands and ran back towards the lab. Cynthia, having gotten even more docile, stumbled at the sudden change in direction and speed. Misty, gripping Dave in a vice grip pulled him back into the lab where they watched through the darkened window.

The guard rounded the corner and saw Cynthia getting up slowly. She shook her head, trying to place where she was. The guard pointed his flashlight at her, drew his pistol and yelled, "Freeze!" 

Cynthia, slowing coming to herself, called out, "Who's there."

"Put your hands up."

Realizing that she was in trouble, she put her hands up and kept quiet. He guard came closer, letting her see the gun and who she was. The thought flashed through her mind, "What a wimp!" It was countered by another thought, "But he has a gun. Even a wimp can shoot straight."

When he was within three feet of her, he ordered, "Walk that way. You're trespassing. We'll have to get the police." He pointed her towards the security office. Once there, he turned on the light, allowing him to put away the maglight. Taking out his handcuffs, he told her, "Put your hands behind your head."

Cynthia slowly complied, but looked at him strangely, saying, "You don't really want to put those on me do you. I can give you what you really want."

"What are you talking about?"

"Those cuffs. They would feel so good on your wrists wouldn't they?"

He stopped, mouth open. "What do you mean?"

"Oh come one, you know what I mean. You've dreamt of it for years. A strong woman forces you down, cuffs you and has her way with you. Why do you think I'm here for you? Do you really think you could catch ME, do you?"

"Did Phil put you up to this?"

"What do you think? Don't think too long though. This offer has an expiration date, just 60 seconds from now."

As he thought, his gun lowered slightly. He was clearly tempted. He looked down at the floor. When he looked up, she was closer, her hand out, demanding. He put the gun and cuffs in her hand, aroused as his deepest and darkest fantasy was playing out. Cynthia put the gun behind her on the desk and pushed him into the swivel chair behind the desk. She took the hand cuffs and cuffed his hands behind the chair, lacing the cuff chain through the back of the chair, effectively trapping him in the chair. Inside a desk drawer, she found two more sets and used them to bind his legs to the rollers.

She stood up, admiring her handiwork. He rational part of her had never fully surfaced between Dave leaving and the guard showing up. She reached down and felt the guard's crotch. She smiled at the hard on and rubbed her hands over it through his pants. He closed his eyes, moaning as his dream woman made him ache with need. She stood up slowly and pulled her shirt up, letting him see her breasts.

"Would you like to lick them?" she asked, a hint of venom in her voice.

"Yes, please."

With a harsh yell, she said, "I didn't give you permission to speak! I guess I'll have to make sure you can't. She took her pants off, followed by her panties. These she stuffed into his mouth and taped in place with duct tape. With her pussy exposed and hot, juices dripping down her legs, she took his nightstick from his belt and slowly inserted it up her cunt, moaning in pleasure, making sure he had a good view. Her left hand slowly stroked in and out with the thick black rod while her right hand stroked her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Cynthia quickly climbed to heights of pleasure, moaning and writhing with abandon, putting on a show the guard would not soon forget. When she came, she screamed out and shoved the night stick in as far as she could, coating its length with her juices.

Even as she was recovering, she leaned forward, bringing her face close to his. "Did we enjoy that little man?" When he nodded, she asked, "Would you like some of this?" He nodded again. "How's this then?" She reached her hand down and massaged his cock through his pants. The stick organ threatened to burst its seams. He moaned in ecstasy, humping against her hand. Her aroma had intoxicated him and he was desperate for relief. As his struggles became more violent, the chair creaking under the strain, Cynthia licked his face with long slow strokes. With one last lick from his nose up to his hairline, she stopped short of his orgasm.

The guard went crazy, writhing in frustration, trying to reach her or somehow stimulate himself. "I'm sorry little man, I have to go. I'm sure that you can find some way to help yourself. Here, this will help." Flashing him her ass, she bent over and rooted around in the desk until she found the handcuff key. Sticking it in her still wet pussy, she coated it with herself and left it sitting on the edge of the desk. Then she grabbed her clothes and wandered back into the hall, heading back towards the lab, the guard's cries fading in the increasing distance.

As Cynthia walked farther from the security office, the aggressive side faded and she realized that she was walking naked down a hall. Mortified, she bolted into a bathroom and put her clothes back on. "Oh my God! It's getting worse. I can't believe what I did. How can I be so shameless? I cold cost him his job. But if I go back, I'll just start all over again." The stress overcame her and she broke down in huge raking sobs, ashamed of herself and terrified of where she would go from here.

Back at the lab, Dave and Misty watched in varying degrees of horror as the guard led Cynthia away. Once they were out of sight, Dave turned to Misty saying, "You get out of here. A favor doesn't mean getting thrown out of your program."

Handing him the scan results, she agreed, "No argument here." She left for the back door at a run.

Dave headed after the two, desperate to rescue Cynthia before she went off sexually again. Rounding the corner, he realized they were in trouble. There was no sign of the guard or Cynthia and a choice of directions. Making a quick decision, her went left, a choice he would later regret. Five minutes later, he knew he had gone the wrong way and had to retrace his steps. By the time he had found the security office, the guard was cuffed to a chair, trying to reach something on the desk.

"What the hell!" he thought. "She handcuffed him to a chair." He saw the gun and nightstick on the desk as well. The guard had managed to reach what he was trying for, but when he scooted it to the edge, it dropped with a small metallic clink. "Key. He's trying to get loose."

Playing a hunch, Dave walked in. The guard spun the chair, panic in his eyes. A dark stain was visible on the crotch of his pants. "He probably sees his career passing before his eyes." Dave thought. To the guard, he said, "My friend was with you. Did she do this?" Nod. "I'll make you a deal. I let you loose and you say nothing. You keep your job and we don't get expelled. Deal?" Nod. Dave spun him back around and took the key, covered in something slick, and opened the cuffs. 

The guard ripped the tape off his mouth and pulled the panties out. Handing them to Dave, he said, "That is one hot bitch you got."

"You have no idea."

Dave left, heading back to the lab. He heard sobbing coming from one of the bathrooms. Opening the door, he called out, "Cynthia? Is that you?"

"Go away. I'm not safe."

"Cynthia, we have to go before the guard changes his mind."

"But... I don't know what I'm going to do from minute to minute. I may try to kill you."

"I have an idea what is going on, but we need to get out of here. If I'm right, you won't do anything to me, just like you didn't earlier."

"Are you sure?"

Dave felt a small white lie was called for and said, "Yes, I'm sure."

As Cynthia came close, she felt a calmness descend over her. "Dave is here. It will be all right. Just do as he says and I will be okay. I'll do anything he wants."

"Come on. The guard agreed to forget this ever happened if we just leave."

The two walked briskly to the car. Once inside, Dave turned to Cynthia and explained, "I have a theory about what's happening to you. I think you've begun to pick up on people's secret desires and act on them. I'm not sure yet why you can't seem to help yourself or stop when you feel it's wrong, but we will get a handle on this. We need a doctor to read these scans and tell us just what part of the brain is being affected."

"If you think a hospital's best, okay. But I don't know what I might do."

"Not to worry. Jenny's stepmother works at a crisis pregnancy clinic. On the overnight shift, everyone there should be a woman. You're not having trouble around women are you?"

"No. Just guys, except you."

"Actually, you're having a problem with me, it just isn't manifesting the same way."

"Oh. Okay."

Turning onto the interstate, he headed towards the city center. He was concerned about the short drive from the exit to the clinic. While it was true that the clinic was staffed by women at night, the streets outside were not. He didn't know what was setting her off. Would the car insulate her in someway, or would she respond to every man they passed. He also needed more details.

"Cynthia, tell me about how you felt and what you noticed in the time leading up to each of your losses of control. Everything, leave no details out."

When Rob picked me up, we went to Olive Garden. The food was wonderful and he was so hot."

"The food, was it great as normal or even better than you remember?"

"It was the best. The aromas were so fabulous, my mouth was watering from the moment I entered the restaurant. I even managed to stay hungry enough for dessert."




All Things to All People Ch. 02



A thought tickled Dave's mind. "How sis Rob smell?"

"He had the most fabulous cologne on. It had me horny as hell within minutes."

"Go on."

"I don't remember the movie much. I do remember that they must have changed brands of popcorn. It was the best I've ever had."

"It had a wonderful aroma?"

"Yes! Absolutely fabulous."

Dave's thoughts raced. "Smell. A heightened sense of smell. She was working with a pheromonal hormone and experienced increased smell after the accident." To her he asked, "Has anything smelled wonderful today, like at the restaurant?"

"No. Nothing unusual."

Dave was remembering something from an internet article he had read last year. The article claimed that odor detectors were the next step in lie detectors. A person's moods affected how he smelled. Only in minute ways, beyond the ability to detect with the human olfactory system, but detectable with modern electronic sniffers. Animals could sense the differences. It's why some breeds of dog had such a good sense of judgment about people. The article theorized that ones thoughts, possibly unconscious thoughts caused very subtle changes in body odor as an explanation of why changes were detected even when one slept. "If her sense of smell has been heightened to the point where she can pick up on subconscious thoughts, she could be pulling out people's unrealized fantasies and acting on them. Wait a minute. She didn't want sex with Rod at the frat house."

"Cynthia, at the frat house, when Rob rescued you, did you come on to him?"

"No. I did earlier, but not then. Of course, he was furious. Slammed one guys head into the plaster."

Back inside his thoughts, "Mmmmm. Overpowering scents. Anger and rage would flood Rob's aroma with testosterone. Maybe blocking out the pheromonal response."

"Cynthia, suck on one of these." He said, giving her an extra strength menthol cough drop.

Meekly, she did what she was told. As the eucalyptus vapors filled her nasal passages, Cynthia became agitated. Did Dave know what he was doing?

"Dave, is this such a good idea? The clinic may not have any men, but the streets do. We're heading into the heart of the red light district. Turn back! I don't want to start acting like a whore!"

Dave smiled, his theory being confirmed. "That won't happen, not as long as you're sucking on one of those cough drops."

"Are you out of your mind?! This won't be cured by a cough drop! Don't make me do this."

"Think it though. That first day, all the smells were stronger than normal, as if you could smell better. You were working with a pheromonal hormone. Rob was wearing the best cologne ever. And, you're no longer meek towards me. Its odors. Somehow you're picking up people's scents and responding to them on some basic level. I don't know why you lose control, but we will figure it out. Until then, we need to get you an extra large bag of cough drops, or give you a head cold."

"I'm not sure, but it does make a sort of sense. You certainly don't seem like God's gift to women anymore. No offense."

"None taken."

He pulled off the freeway and navigated the streets to the clinic lot. A couple of guys were hanging about the clinic, waiting for something. He parked as close to the door as he could.

"Take another lozenge. I think we want to avoid what ever those two are dreaming of."

"Yeah, I agree."

They got out, quickly moving to the doorway and into the lobby. The clinic managed to survive in this area because the locals knew that it had no serious stocks of drugs and that you could get a condom here anytime you wanted for free. The hookers knew they could get free STD and pregnancy testing here, even if they didn't offer abortions.

Dave saw the doctor in the lobby, chatting with a nurse and receptionist. "Dr. Kilco. Can I talk with you a minute?"

"Dave Reston? What are you doing here? Did you get into trouble?"

"No and yes. There's a problem, but it's not what you think. I need you to read a CT scan and tell us what we're seeing."

"Why didn't the doctor who ordered it tell you anything?"

"A doctor didn't order it. We did it ourselves."

"Mr. Reston. Just what is going on?"

"I'll explain everything. In private. After you tell us what's with these scans. Please."

The doctor looked at the pair for a moment. She knew Dave and trusted him. The girl was a stranger, and while she had no reason to trust her, she looked frightened, as if a no would be the end of the world. "Okay. Come back to my office"

In the office, Cynthia popped another cough drop. The doctor looked over the scans silently. She checked a couple of references online. After 30 minutes, she looked up. "Whose scans are these? If you don't tell me, we'll call the police."

Cynthia looked up, frightened, "They're mine."

"I see. Is this true Dave?"

"Yes doctor."

"Mmmmm. The person whose scans these are should be dead. Two specific areas of the brain have been affected. This area here," pointing to the medulla, "controls the sense of smell. It has been hyper-activated. Your sense of smell should be so strong that it is painful to be here. Yet, the activity is highly regimented, as if geared for something in particular. This other area, that is where our sense of self is located. It is dying, 75% dead to be exact. Without a sense of self, you wither and die. Patients with brain damage here spend what little life they have left as conscious coma patients. So young lady, if this is your scan, why are you still standing, breathing and lucid?" The doctor's hand was near the phone, waiting for an excuse to call the police.

Dave started to answer, "Okay. It will be hard to believe, but I did promise an explanation. You see, Cynthia was working..."

"Wait. It'll be better if I tell it." Cynthia interrupted. Popping another cough drop, she started. "I was trying to develop a new fertility drug, one that doesn't cause excessive multiple births when we had a lab accident. I was poisoned with a compound containing a pheromonal hormone and potassium chlorinate. I guess the gas was odorless and colorless. Since then, I've had an almost, no a totally uncontrollable urge to fuck every man I come into close proximity with. Rob had just figured out that my sense of smell has been heightened somehow and that I was reacting to the subtle changes in men's bodily aromas. Somehow, the smell carries a detectable clue to the sex that men want."

"Is that why you're popping cough drops like candy?"

"Yes. It seems to deaden my sense of smell. Thinking back, my sense of smell seems to be getting better and more refined. The day of the accident, I wanted sex with my boyfriend. I've been putting him off. But there were no specifics in what I wanted. The next day, I went into a frat house to deliver paperwork and wanted the exact same sex that each boy wanted before he expressed his wishes. Now it seems I want sex that the guys aren't even thinking about, but want unconsciously. I don't know why, but Dave is the only guy I haven't wanted to fuck right away, though when I'm not breathing massive amounts of eucalyptus, he seems like the perfect man and I get very meek around him.

"The results you describe make sense as far as the smell thing. But why do I have no control. Every time I get near a guy, it's like the rational part of my brain recedes into the background, letting the sex maniac take complete control."

The doctor thought a moment. "First, give me the cough drops." When she hesitated, she explained, "The protective effect will diminish with constant use. You need to save them for absolute need. Since you don't try to bed Dave, you can hold off while you're in the clinic. Plus, I need to see this effect. Now, I think, assuming you're not shining me on, I can explain the loss of control. Our sense of smell, while not our most powerful sense, is the only one directly connected to our brain, no filtering. The dream of advertisers has been to discover sub-olfactory scents, similar to subliminal messages. Now, with your sense of self destroyed for the most part, your mind, trying to survive, is adapting to use what ever sense of being is out there to grasp. With the scents carrying the desires of nearby men, those are substituting for your sense of self. While inconvenient, it has saved your life. That's the other reason you can't afford to deaden your sense of smell for prolonged periods. It will literally kill you. If your theories are right, Dave, your friend will have to either be a sex maniac for the rest of her life, or die, withering in a loss of self."

As she talked, she observed Cynthia dropping into a mild stupor, edging closer to Dave, seeming to depend on him for sustenance. Dave noticed that the effect was getting worse. He was not sure she would do anything without guidance from him.

"Doc, how do we fix it?"

"I'm not sure it can be fixed. We're talking dead brain cells. They don't regrow. All we can hope for is to halt the progress. But she doesn't have much time. 75% in two days? Depending on speed of effect, she could already be too far gone. The only hope I have for you is that the scan seems to indicate that the speed of die off has spurts. There has been two massive die offs with slight die offs before and after. Is there anything she's done only twice since the accident?"

"I'm not sure. Cynthia, will you answer all of the doctor's questions as best you can?"

"Yes, I can do that." There was an almost dreamy quality to her voice.

"Describe the last two days briefly."

After being guided away from recounting the sex itself, things fell into place for both Dave and the doctor. "Sleep." They said together. 

The doctor continued, "When she sleeps the chemical goes into over drive, killing cells left right and sideways. The longer she stays awake, the more time we have. I'm going to write you a prescription for a stimulant. Ignore the dosage on the prescription. Have her take one every four hours. This is a stopgap measure though. She can't keep this level of stimulation for more that 36 hours. After that, the stimulants will kill her. Once she comes off of them, she will crash for 12 or more hours, enough to finish the damage completely. You have 36+ hours to find a way to neutralize the chemicals doing this, after that, she will have no rational personality to take over when she's not near men. She will likely be a sex fiend who slips into a coma when ever there are no men nearby."

"Thanks doc. 40 hours. I don't know if that will be enough time. We're not even certain how the compound was created. It escaped in the middle of a chemical process, not as a finished product. I know Cynthia. She will not want to wake up once she crashes and the damage finishes. A coma bound sex maniac or dead. She'll choose dead."

"I thought as much. Cynthia, have a cough drop."

A few minutes later, the real Cynthia was back.

The doctor had a stern look on her face. "Did you follow our discussion."

"Yes doctor. Once the stimulants wear off, I'll sleep and awaken with no sense of who I am except as a sex toy for any man who happens to be nearby."

"Would you rather die, or keep living under those circumstances?"

"Die. It wouldn't be me any more. I would already be dead, the part that matters. My body should join my self if that happens."

"This is a prescription for hydrocodone patches. If the end comes and you know you're going to sleep, put them all on. You won't wake up. It'll be written off as a suicide. Once they autopsy you and see the brain damage, they will assume a virulent cancer or some such disease. No one will think twice about your decision."

"Thank you doctor. Will you get in trouble for writing the prescription?"

"Probably, but not irrecoverably. I'll be reprimanded, have to attend a training course on assisted suicide, possibly have my license suspended. I'll live. It's my hope you won't need to. Find a cure for yourselves."

When they got outside, Dave had a feeling of panic. One tire was flat. This was not the part of town to get a flat in. He put Cynthia in the car and started the process to change the tire. He did not see the two youths wearing gang colors sneak up and hit him across the back of the head with a baseball bat. A sickening crunch was shortly followed by his body's collapse to the ground. The people inside the clinic saw what happened and called the police and medics, but they did not get there in time for Cynthia. The criminals grabbed her out of the car and dragged her away screaming. When the police and ambulance arrived, the only sign that Cynthia had been there was a spilled bag of cough drops.

Cynthia, taken by surprise as well, had just popped a cough drop when the car door was yanked open and an arm reached in a dragged her out, causing her to drop the bag. When she tried to scream, a fist hit her face and a voice yelled, "Quiet bitch! Make another sound and we'll cut your tongue out!" A switchblade appeared in front of her face. She whimpered, terrified of these two and what they would do, as well as what she would want when the cough drop in her mouth was gone.

Dragging her to a beat up chevy, they threw her in the back and peeled out of the parking lot. Several hookers and their clients watched the scene with little interest, not wanting to get involved. The gang member that wasn't driving, the black one (the other was white, with blond hair) turned around and spoke in a deep threatening voice, "Listen up whore. You cooperate and we have some fun and you go relatively unharmed in a day or two. You fight us and you get hurt and maybe we keep you for bonuses to our boys. So, you gonna play nice or play bad?"

"Please don't. I... I just want to go home. Please just let me go."

"Oh we let you go, some time. Now, no trying to get out. This be an old cop car. No back handles." He said laughing uproariously.

They drove for about fifteen minutes before driving up to a run down house in a dilapidated neighborhood. The last of Cynthia's cough drop had dissolved and the eucalyptus was fading from her nose. She braced herself for the feelings that were to come, thinking, "If I lose control, it won't feel as horrible when they rape me, because I'll want it."

They dragged her out of the car and towards the house. She was just beginning to notice how sexy the two looked when they went in and her nose was assaulted by a foul stench, provoking a sneezing fit from her. All sexy thoughts flew from her mind as she took in the contents of the front room. Hotplate, bottles of cleaning fluid, packages of allergy medicine. She was in a crack house. The chemist in her head imagined it could already feel the noxious chemical poisons seeping into her skin, beginning their assault on her health.

A shove towards the back of the house punctuated a command, "Get back to the bedroom bitch. You stay there. Anyone come in, you give them what they want."

She timidly walked around the rubbish in the house and followed the hall to the back room. A plain mattress was there, soiled with who knows what. Sniffing, she realized that the chemical stench was less, the smell of other things being noticeable. With a sense of detachment, she watched the change in her thinking from the inside. She felt a need for sex. She was disappointed that she had missed it earlier. She could tell, this room was sexy and erotic. Fantasy visions formed before her eyes. She could almost feel the cocks in her body, several at once (this part of her did not wonder how five cocks cold fit in her cunt and ass at the same time). Her pussy was getting wet, signaling intense desire, the need for cocks, as many as possible.

She lay down on the mattress, reveling in simply being close to them, all of them. Her hand reached down her pants and began to caress her pussy. Sliding her hand in the juices flooding her pussy, she lay back and moaned, wishing one of them were here to take her and use her. Feeling stifled, she opened her pants and pulled them down around her knees, giving herself better access to her cunt and clit. Plunging fingers in, she fucked her hand, moaning and screaming with abandon.

Her cries reached the front room, causing a stir. "Who in bed with the white bitch?" Everyone shook their head. The guy who had spoken got up and wandered back. "Homies! That scared whore is gone crazy. She be friggin herself wild. I goin to screw her since she want it so bad."

He walked in and Cynthia looked up, a smile plastered over her face. "Oh please. Fuck me with that cock of yours." She felt a craving develop. A burning need. Getting up on all fours, she growled in the back of her throat. "I've been bad. I need to be put into my place. Can you teach me a lesson?"

"You bet bitch! You stay right there." He had his shirt off while he answered her. Sanding above her, he pulled his belt off, wrapping the end around his hand. "Beg for it bitch."

"Oh please, you gotta beat me. Make me regret being bad. Knock some sense into me."

He brought his belt down across her back, leaving a deep red mark. He was shocked when her cry of pain was almost ecstatic in nature. He hit her again and again, each slap of the belt across her back, ass or legs accompanied by scream of pleasure rather than pain. "Shit, this bitch get off on bein whipped." He said out loud. As he beat her, his cock grew and hardened., straining at his pants. Her whole backside from knees to neck had been bruised deep red and purple, a few cuts forming and leaking blood. 

Finally, he cold take it no more. Dropping the belt, he dropped his pants, grabbed her head that was already rising and shoved his cock down her throat. He was too far gone to notice that she never once gagged when his tip pounded the back of her throat. Her hands reached down and stroked her clit, extracting moans from her that pushed his arousal even higher. With a cry of pleasure, he pulled out and shot his load all over her face and shirt. The craving for his cum overwhelmed her and she used her hands to scoop up what had landed on her and devour it like candy.

The sounds of the sex in the back room drew the other gang bangers to the bed room. Cynthia looked up at them, feeling the desire in her change. She stuck her lower lip out and pouted, "Gee guys, I want to have a party and you're all out there. Doesn't anyone want to party with me?"

Not needing a second invitation, the other four poured into the room, stripping clothes as they moved. Cynthia shed the remains of her clothes and stood up wrapping herself around one of them, whispering, "Fuck me big boy, fuck me until I'm raw and sore. Fuck me while your friend rapes my ass" She pulled herself up and sat down on his thirteen inch cock. The black man who had threatened her in the car, plunged his cock into her ass, eliciting a cry of pain that was replaced by moans of pleasure. Her rectum was torn in several places, the blood providing the only lubricant for the sodomy she was undergoing.

The two men pounded into her over and over again with unbridled cruelty, caring nothing for Cynthia's pleasure. Her gyrations made short work of their self control, each cumming within a couple of minutes of entering her. She came as well at the feel of hot cum pumping into her cunt and ass, crying loudly, begging them for more.

Turning to the last two, she crawled over to a short Latino and took is cock into her mouth, wriggling her butt at the blond driver. Taking his cue, her plunged into her pussy from behind, pounding her with a vengeance. She rolled her tongue around the cock in her mouth, savoring the taste of him. He as content to let her give him the blowjob to end all blowjobs. He tried to hold off as much as possible, but the show she had given was too powerful and he shot his wad down her throat, feeling her jaws clench and unclench as she swallowed every drop. 




All Things to All People Ch. 02



The sight of her swallowing an entire load was almost too much for the blond. He pulled out and swung her around, plunging his cock into her mouth just in time to feed a third load of cum into Cynthia's desperate mouth.

"Damn," the blond said, "we keep this one. Hot bitch that like it rough? This whore not go home anytime soon." Heads nodded around him. "We can pay for supplies with her too."

They went back out, pulling pants up, leaving Cynthia aroused and wanting another cum of her own, but bereft of any ideas as to how. Moaning in frustration, she fell asleep.

While Cynthia was being taken, Dave lay in the parking lot, blood running from his scalp. The paramedics found that he had a cracked skull and a bruise on his forehead where it had impacted the back of his car. In the hospital, doctors worked furiously to keep the swelling down and prevent brain damage or worse. While the initial surgery was successful, he spent the next seven days in a coma, hovering between life and death.

The police questioned everyone near the scene of the crime, but only the clinic workers would tell them anything. The street people who had seen anything were too frightened of reprisals to say anything. Thus, while the police knew that a woman had been kidnapped, they had no leads at to by whom or where she had been taken. By the time the investigation had gone cold two days later, Cynthia was written off, the case filed under unsolved.

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

While Cynthia slept, a curious chemical war was fought inside her body. Toxic fumes from the meth production process had seeped into her body. These chemicals conflicted with the compound that was changing her. Both sets of chemical poisons were neutralizing each other. With a renewing supply, the meth poisons gained the upper hand. For two days, this battle ravaged her body and mind. Her sense of self, in a desperate play for survival, closed down, sending her into a waking coma. Over the two days, she was unaware of her time awake, responding to the sexual urges from the body odors around her with true mindless abandon. The gang bangers didn't even notice the zombie like appearance of their fuck toy. The center of her sense of self was further withered, but the damage stabilized at 85% loss. By that time, the compound that was destroying her from the inside had been purged. The meth poisons had their own detrimental effects though. Inside her brain, synapses misfired, rerouted and overloaded. Memories were lost, skills were degraded all the while, her body was used for the sexual gratification of five lowlifes. On the third day after her kidnapping, her sense of self roused, feeling safe enough to wake up...

To be continued... 



All Things to All People Ch. 03



A note to my readers. This chapter has two graphic scenes of non-sexual violence, one directed at a helpless woman. If this bothers you, be forewarned. I plan on a more extensive "what has gone on before" than normal in part 4, so you can skip this one if you wish. There is also only two sex scenes, one of which has been intentionally written to be laughable, so you won't miss much if you choose to skip it.

*

What has gone on before...

Since the lab accident, Cynthia Halverston has been unable to control the impulses to have sex with the men she encounters. Even more terrifying is that she wants whatever the men most strongly desire. Thanks to her friend Dave Reston, a CT scan of her brain was taken and a friendly doctor revealed that her sense of smell has been greatly enhanced and her 'sense of self' has been dying, especially when she sleeps, forcing her to take on the self she perceived, via smell, that men wanted from her. Before she and Dave can take steps to develop a cure, they are mugged and Cynthia is kidnapped by gang bangers, who allow her, after she fulfills their sexual fantasies, to fall asleep...

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

Cynthia woke up, afraid, but not sure why. Lying quietly, she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She was lying on a mattress, but not in a bed. She was aware that she was covered in dried out stuff, was it cum? There was someone snoring against her back. She felt an urgency, but was not sure what it was about. Slowly reaching down to her crotch, she felt dried sex, lots of dried sex. She wondered why she didn't stink. In fact, she was nervous about what she could smell. She remembered thinking cough drops were something important. Why?

She lay quietly, trying to organize her thoughts, remember why she was afraid. As it pieced together slowly, she was frustrated by the holes that just would not fill in. She recalled that smelling men was dangerous, that it made her their sex slave in some way. Cough drops blocked her smell, especially the ones with those vapors that cleared your sinuses. Sleep bothered her. She was sure she wasn't supposed to sleep for some reason. Then the big one hit her.

She had been kidnapped! Someone important to her had been hurt, but she could not remember his name. The assholes had used her, fucked her until it hurt. She had let them, in fact encouraged them. The smell thing, it made her want to have sex, any sex, with any man. They had taken her cough drops, leaving her helpless! But, if smell made her a sex kitten, why was she not horny now? There was a man right beside her. This was important, she knew it. So was the fact that she didn't stink. Something was on the tip of her mind, something about her nose. Aha! You get used to smells and don't notice them anymore. Like being around horses a lot. You start to not smell their shit, since you were around it all the time. She was used to the rapist's smell, so she didn't go away.

Wait, that was important. She went away for some reason. When the sex urge hit, SHE went away and someone, or something else took over. Some other part of her? Was she psycho? Did she have a second mind inside her? If only she could remember clearly! Why could she not remember? She knew there was something else important she had to remember, something that was life important. Relax. Let it come. Breathe in. Breathe out. That's it. Let it come... Let it come... Meth! She was in a meth house! Poisons! Fumes! Brain damage! She had to get out!

Almost panicking, she rolled off the mattress as quietly as she could. Damn! She was naked. Looking around, she could not see any clothes, at least none that looked like she could wear them. The room she was in was filthy. Debris littered the floor and she could see bugs scurrying to hiding places. The man moaned, reaching in his sleep for where she was. He started to wake when she was not there.

"What? Hey bitch! Come back here. You blow me."

Cynthia backed up, her back against a wall. She shook her head.

"Come on pussy. I know you like it. That all you want for two days. Come to Raull, he give you what you need."

Sliding against the wall, she backed further away, groping for something, terror on her face.

"So, you want it hard. I can do hard."

He stood, naked himself, slowly approaching her. His cock was hard, precum glistened at the tip. He leered at her, a look that she give anything to wipe off his face. Her motion put her into a corner, trapped. Terrified, she slunk down to the floor, one hand raised in front of her, the other groping at the floor. Something hard and square was there. She grasped it in hope. Raull walked up, threatening her, "You go on your knee and blow my dick, or you get fucked after you bleed."

She swung what ended up being a broke chair leg. She was aiming for his head, trying to knock him out. Not being someone who fights regularly, she missed, the jagged end ripping across his throat instead. His torn jugular splattered blood all over the wall and Cynthia's body as the shocked drug cooker staggered back, trying futilely to keep the blood from pouring out of his body. He was passed out within a minute and dead in less than three, his blood forming an expanding pool of red on the floor. Flies buzzed on his body before the last breath stopped.

Cynthia sobbed for several minutes, her fear easing out with each tear and gasp. "He had friends." She thought, as she came to her senses. "I need to get out of here. But where? I don't even know where I am. And smells. Once I leave, I'll smell someone and become their sex fantasy."

While she could remember none of her life as a scientists at this point in time, she still had the scientific mind. She went through the house, grateful that he had been alone, looking at what was available to her. She found her clothes, though they were torn in places and barely covered the things that needed covering. The bra and panties were useless, torn in all the wrong places. Empty packages of allergy medicine, lighter fluid and fix-o-flat littered the floor of the outer room. In the kitchen were dirty pots, not all of which looked like they were used to cook food. She found some pine cleaner and when she sniffed it, the blast of scent drove all other smells from her nose. "I can use this." She thought.

With clothes on, she returned to the room with the mattress and found his clothes. Rifling his pockets she found a was of bills, $227 in various denominations. Beginning to worry about the return of the others, she stuffed the bills in her pants and went to the front door, cracking it to look outside. It was dark outside, how late she did not know. She could not see anyone, but there was a 7-11 sign about a block down, "Good," she thought, "I can get some cough drops and food. God I'm hungry. He said two days. Haven't they fed me at all? One more thing before I leave."

She went back to the kitchen and tripled some bags from 7-11. Inside, she put the bottle of pine cleaner, some cans of beer she found in the fridge and can of generic chili. She took a dishrag and soaked it in pine cleaner, tying it around her neck. The pine fumes invaded her nose, bringing water to her eyes. But, she could smell nothing else, and that was good. Prepared as well as she could, she went back to the door, saw the coast was clear, and walked out, heading for 7-11.

She thought she went unnoticed, but eyes from across the street watched her. Two cops on stake out evaluated her appearance and concluded 'hooker' finishing a job at the suspected meth house. By the time they would realize their mistake, Cynthia would be gone, leaving the murder of the cook an unsolved crime, though in all honesty, no one in the department would assign much importance to the death of a meth head at the hands of a hooker he tried to rough up.

Cynthia walked into the convenience store, looking like something the cat had upchucked. It spoke volumes about where she was that no one gave her more than a second look. The clerk, a 6 foot 6 inch tall man with a slight paunch and sporting a tazer and collapsible billy club (all in violation of official 7-11 policy, but with the approval of the store owner) kept an eye on her, planning on calling the cops if she tried to buy any cold medicine.

On a mission, Cynthia headed for the medicine aisle and grabbed every package of cough drops that had eucalyptus in it. She resisted the urge to open one right away. She knew she was not the most trustable looking soul right now. Dumping them on one of the unused counters, she headed for the food section and picked up some more chili, the super hot stuff, some energy drinks and a can opener. Back at the counter, she waited in line behind two guys. She noticed that the clock said 4:17. Early morning.

A woman walked in, only slightly more dressed than Cynthia, only in her case it looked on purpose. "How ya doin Mark. Zapped any gangies this week?"

"Nah, I think they're catching on. How was your night Gloria?"

"Two lays, two blows and a fetish. I may take tomorrow off. I can't believe that guys will pay $50 just to smell my panties. And people call me a perv."

"Well you are a perv, but you're a good perv."

They both laughed at the lame joke and Gloria fixed herself a big bowl of nachos with gobs of condiments on it. She got into line behind Cynthia, noticing her for the first time. Gloria knew this look. The poor girl had a bad trick and got herself beat up. 

"Yo girl, what happened to you?!"

Cynthia jumped, scared that someone had paid notice to her. "Nothing."

"Don't give me nothing. You're a mess and someone's put you through the wringer. And you covered in blood girl. And that pine isn't hiding the stink either. You got a place to crash?"

"Uh... no."

"You're new ain't you. I can tell. No sense that God gave a bitch. Sister, you got to be careful about who you go with. Some guys, they as soon cut you as fuck you."

"Gloria, watch the language."

"Sorry Mark. Listen girl, you want or need to hook, you got to learn to be safe. Have a place to crash. Pick your johns careful like. Avoid the pimps if you can. You can't do that, don't start baby. And girl, stay off the shit. It'll eat up your dough, leave you worse off. If you want to crash, go to Sister Anne's place. You be clean and not turn em while you there, she ask no questions and give you three square ones a day. You know where she is."

Cynthia's mouth hung open. She had never heard someone go on like that. She would have needed a crow bar to get a word in edge wise. Now that there was a lull, she didn't know what to say. She just shook her head.

"I didn think so. I'll take you there. I won' stay, got no use for her preachin. But she be good people, she get you cleaned up. Mark, I'll get her stuff. And get her two of those dogs. You like dogs? Good. They'll fill you up. God girl, you got a cough problem? I ain't heard no cough from you."

"Sinuses. Bad sinuses."

"Yeah I hear you. They're good for getting the taste out of your mouth after a blow too, if you know what I mean, no matter its rubber taste or his. Where's your rubbers? You ain't been doin them bare for regular have you." Cynthia's embarrassed look was taken as a yes. "God girl, make em pay extra. If you goin to risk some shit assed disease... yeah, I know, watch the language... you should make plenty on it. Five times normal is my price and if they don't look clean, it ain't happening, know what I mean? What you chargin them, anyway?"

Cynthia looked up sheepishly. She had never encountered, at least as far as she could remember, someone so energetic and forceful. She just knew that 'no' was not an option to this woman. And, besides the understandable assumption that she was a hooker, the woman, Gloria, was being extremely nice to her. This Sister Anne sounded like just what she needed, a safe place to try to remember things. Not knowing what to say, she pulled out the wad of cash and showed it to the gregarious hooker.

"Damm girl. You sellin yourself short. You got to put value on what's you got. If they could get it at home, they wouldn't be looking for us, now would they. We got to set you right, if you goin to keep at it." All through the soliloquy, Mark had rang things up and Gloria paid the $54 charge with a $100, stuffing the non-twenties in the Jerry's Kids box. Come on girl. Let's get you to where you can clean up. Now, if you want to make it, charge enough to be worth it for you and not enough to scare them away. Me, I charges $50 for a blow, you know what a blow is? Good. $100 for a lay, and a short blow to get them up is part if that. If they wants to team up, I charge each full price and another full price for each in the team. So a pair that want one blown while the other screws, is charged $50 plus $100 plus $150, or $300 total. Pairs are hard work, get paid for it. And remember this girl, if you remember nothing else I tell ya, get the money up front. No pay, no play. Once they got what they want, they ain't goin to pay up and maybe even hurt you if you ask afters. You got that, money first, always. You planning on doin kinks?"

Cynthia though about her condition and figured it might be best to know something about them. "Maybe, I don't know yet."

"Damm girl, I was wonderin if you could talk. Kinks are hard. If it be a fetish thing, like maybe the guy wants to just lick you feet. Don't laugh, your best regulars will be the fetishes and the feet guys can give you a foot rub that is heaven on earth. Remembers, we on our feet a lot. Anyway, I charges fetishes $50. Ass men, I charge them $250 unless they be real big, then they pays $500. It hurts back there and the big ones can lay you up for days. I hopes you ain't planning on taking any bondage freaks on. They be dangerous. Once they tie you up, you have no say in what they do. I don't do them, but Sylvia does and she charges $2500 up front, deposited before they starts and the guys ID left with someone until she get back. The ones that like to be tied, they have Lady Heather's, so you won't see them. If you do, run, they is settin you up hard. You go with someone who wants you to tie them, you never be seen again, you hear me?"

Cynthia nodded. She was so into following Gloria's patter that the male voice ahead startled her. "Yo Gloria. You got a new one for me?"

"Back off Harold. I don't bring no one for your stable. You on your own. This one's not for you. I be takin her to Anne's."

"What you go and do that for. Clear she is a whore that need my protection. You know I protect my girls."

"And take all their money. Harold, you be a pimp and a bad one at that. You keep your hands off this one. She don't need to be tradin johns that beat her for a pimp that beat her. You hear me?"

"Back off bitch. You can't protect her forever. She be back on the street, then she have to choose, protection or hurting. They always go for protection."

"I didn't, and she won't either. There be something about her that tells me you get more than you bargain for with her. Do yourself a favor and stay away."

During the exchange, Cynthia was aware that the loudly dressed black man was incredibly sexy looking. She could tell his cock was huge and she wondered what it would feel like stuffed down her throat. "Oh no," she panicked, "it's starting. The pine cleaner. It's all gone from the rag." She reached into her bag and ripped open a cough drop package, popping the lozenge and breathing in the sharp smell of the eucalyptus. Checking her thoughts, she noticed that Harold was dressed loudly, stank of cigarettes and was a jerk. She breathed a sigh of relief.

As the pimp moved on, Gloria pointed to a warehouse, "This is it girl. Sister Anne's House for Women in Trouble. Inside those doors, you can be as safe as you need to be for as long as you want. You take care. If you decide to trick, come by 37th and axel. That's my corner and I'll show you some of the tricks of the trade." Gloria laughed at her own joke.

"Gloria, Why..." Cynthia couldn't finish the question, it seemed too rude.

"Why's a whore like me helping a total stranger?"

Cynthia nodded her head.

Gloria's face got serious, the most serious she had seen. "Ten years ago, someone helped me out of the blue. I's alive today because of someone I never saw again and never knew the name of. So I decide to be different that most whores and keep on caring. It's not easy. Easy is to hook up with one of the Harolds and let yourself go hard and dead inside. It ain't worth it though. You know you alive when you know you can be hurt. You remember that girl. The hurt is good, you ain't dead if you can hurt. Bye now. I hope you don't come to see me. I don't know if hookin is what you should be at. Git inside, the Sister take good care of you." Gloria wandered off, to where, Cynthia had no idea.

Turning to look at the shelter, it didn't look like much on the outside, just a warehouse with a single door under a faded sign. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open and stepped inside. It was like entering a different world. She was standing in a foyer, painted in soft pleasant colors. Some music was playing in the distance and she could smell something cooking, even through the strong scent of the Halls in her mouth. The door struck a bell as it closed, creating a soft ringing. As she stood, wondering where to go, footsteps and a woman, dressed in a traditional nun's habit turned the corner.

"Welcome to our sanctuary. My name is Sister Anne, but you can call me Anne. Are you seeking shelter?"

Cynthia could feel respect being pulled from her, as if it was unthinkable to disrespect such a lady. "Yes Ma'am, at least I think so."

"Then come in, please. By the looks of things, you've had a hard time. Is the blood yours?"

Cynthia looked down, seeing that she had never put shoes on and the blood from the meth cook was on her feet, as well as the rest of her. "No, I don't think so."

"Good. I'm not going to ask where it came from, not my place. If you hurt someone, the Lord will deal with you in his own way and time. Is that everything you have?" she said, pointing to the sacks.

"Yes, at least I don't remember anything else."

"Let's get you in and cleaned up. Elizabeth!" she called out in a surprisingly loud voice. "We'll have to trash those clothes, they're beyond repair. We have some you can look through and take, though we only have enough for a single pair. Liz will show you where to put your things and where the showers are. We don't have a bath, I'm afraid. Once you're looking like you might live through the next five minutes, we'll talk. Ah, there you are Elizabeth. Take this lady to the bunk room, let her stow her belongings and then get her cleaned up and in some clothes from the locker. Then bring her to my office."

"Yes Sister." Replied the young girl. She couldn't possibly be more than 16, tops, yet she seemed very sure of herself and knew just where everything was. "Only Sister Anne calls me Elizabeth, you can call me Liz." Entering a large room with a couple of dozen beds, she went to whispering, "This is the bunk room, it's where you'll sleep at night. Here's only five of here now, so you have your choice, pretty much. Which do you want?"

Cynthia took the bed farthest from the ones with sleeping forms in them, setting her stuff on them, looking at the others nervously.

"Don't worry, no one will take your stuff. This way is the showers. We're lucky to have a huge hot water heater, donated by a restaurant when they upgraded. No way you'll run out of hot water. Take as long as you want to get cleaned up. I'll put a box of clothes out that are your size, pick the outfit you like. When you're done, get me from the third room on the left and I'll take you to see the Sister."

"Uh, why haven't you asked..." Cynthia seemed to be asking all the rude questions.




All Things to All People Ch. 03



"Why haven't I pried? You're not ready. No one is when they walk through the door. I wasn't. you need to know your safe, so that's what we give you. If you want to talk later, we can."

"How old..."

"I'm 14. Been here for three years. I get tutoring three days a week and I keep the place running smooth. Would fall apart without me. Go get clean. Honestly, you stink."

Cynthia spent a full 30 minutes washing several days of accumulated crud off of her body. She could not seem to get clean enough. She only left when another woman, older looking, came in to shower as well. Self conscious, she left the shower and saw the box of clothes. Her old things were gone, not that she missed them much. Liz had a good eye for sizes, as everything fit. Panties, bra, jeans, oversized t-shirt and sandals made her feel human once again. Finding Liz, she was led to a small office with clutter everywhere, but strangely exuding a sense of order.

"There you are. Yes, you do look like you will live to see dinner tonight. This is your first time here, so I need to let you know how we work. We're a shelter for women in trouble, what kind doesn't matter. We're not the cops and we're not doctors of either kind. We give women a place they can stay and be safe for as long as they need. We don't ask a lot of questions. But we do expect something form you. All our ladies can't be safe if one of them is bringing danger into the shelter with her. No drugs. We don't even let our ladies keep aspirin for themselves. I noticed that you had a lot of cough drops. That's the limit, as long as they have no alcohol in them like a lot of syrups."

"No, just eucalyptus."

"Good. Now, if you are a prostitute, you can't operate out of here. The pimps stay away because they know that no lady here turns tricks while she's here. If you turn tricks, you have to spend at least one day finding your own way. We do get ladies trying to walk away from the johns and their money, and they're welcome. But they know that if they go back, they have to stay away until they are ready to try again. We also don't allow men inside. You can't tell what a man's intentions are for sure, and abusive boyfriends or husbands can put up a convincing front. Finally, after you've been here a week, we expect you to help out with the chores, at least a couple of hours doing what you can. Is there a problem with the rules?"

"No ma'am. They sound very fair."

"And please, call me Anne. Or if you feel the need for formality, Sister. Okay? By the way, what shall we call you?"

"Cynthia."

"Right. Cynthia, let's introduce you to the other ladies."

Everyone seemed friendly enough, reserved and nervous for the most part, except for Anne and Liz. She was shown the drawers under her bed where she could stow things. Since she had some money, Liz took her to a thrift store two blocks down where she could buy a couple of changes of clothes. The teen had a knack for finding inexpensive, but good clothes, a skill picked up by having almost nothing when she showed up three years ago. Liz idolized the nun, intending to take vows when she was old enough. The first three days were almost heaven, safe, no incredible need for sex, time to think and try to remember.

The remembering was hard. She hoped and prayed that she had not suffered any brain damage. A few things came back. She seemed to know a lot about chemistry and biology. She remembered that she should have been dead by now, dying in her sleep from a poison that had made her the way she is. She could only reason that the meth fumes had countered the poison, whatever it was. She thought it ironic that she may be the only person in history to have had her life saved by crystal meth. She remembered that there was a Dave in her life and that he had been hurt, maybe killed, but not much more about him. Everything else stayed a blank.

After the third day, she noticed that she was feeling increasingly lethargic, as if the will to do things was leaving her. She still avoided sleep, fearful that the cure was not permanent and wrote if off to that. On the fourth day, sleeping after going for 27 hours, she dreamed. In the dream she heard a doctor talking. "with your sense of self destroyed for the most part, your mind, trying to survive, is adapting to use what ever sense of being is out there to grasp. With the scents carrying the desires of nearby men, those are substituting for your sense of self. While inconvenient, it has saved your life." She woke with a scream. "Oh my God! I'll die without the sex! I'll wither away and lose what little self I have left. What can I do? How will I survive?"

Terror building, she dressed and went down to the front foyer, pondering her options. The door opened and a woman ran in, looking in fright behind her. A breeze carried a scent that only Cynthia picked up, a man. She saw him, anger on his face, running after the woman who was screaming for help. That rational part screamed inside, "No! Cough drop!" but it was too late. The sex crazed part rose up, knowing what this man wanted and ready to give it to him. She walked out the door, pulling it closed behind her.

As the man tried to get around her, she purred, "Come now. What do you want her for. She'll just fight you. I can give you everything you want."

"What do you know what I want? I want Julie!"

"No you don't. You want this." And she took his hand and put it at the neck of her shirt. "You want to rip this off and beat some sense into a woman, make her pay for what women have done to you for years. Once I've been taught a lesson, you want to use me and get off on me. Are you man enough to take me?" Cynthia asked, reaching down and squeezing his balls hard.

"You fucking bitch!" The man reared back and slugged Cynthia in the face, throwing her to the ground. "No whore is going to hurt me and get away with it!"

"Oh, I seem to be doing just fine. I mean. One punch? You call yourself a man?"

Enraged, he grabber her by the hair and threw her against the wall of the building. Cynthia heard something go crack, but had no time to wonder as a fist impacted her belly, doubling her over and forcing her to throw up. He kneed her in the face, bloodying her nose. He grabbed her neck and threw her to the ground, the pavement scraping along the side of her face. Rolling her over, he sat on her and hit her face, again and again. Her smile at giving him what he wanted most only infuriated him, enough so that he did not hear the sirens until it was too late.

"Get off of the girl motherfucker! Now!" The cop and his partner both had glocks pointed at the man, fingers itching for an excuse. They could see from her clothes that she was from the shelter. In his rage, he jumped up and pulled a knife out of his boot. Both pistols went off three times, the six rounds shredding his chest and blowing him back against the wall. The driver moved forward, kicked the knife out of the way and checked on Cynthia. His partner was on the radio, "This is unit 34, we have a victim in need of medical treatment. Send ambulance to our location. There's also been an officer involved shooting with fatality. Send the CSI unit as well."

The radio crackled, "10-4. Paramedics are on the way. Stay on scene until detectives arrive."

"10-4"

The rational part of Cynthia was returning, hearing male voices, but feeling no desires. She couldn't breath through her nose. Her vision kept swimming in and out. She tried to get up, but a handheld her down. "Miss, try not to move. You probably have a concussion and moving could make it worse."

"No. Must get inside."

"No, just lie still until the medics treat you. Why was he beating you?"

In her haze, it never occurred to her to lie or stay quiet. "I think he wanted to."

"Yes, but why?"

"He just wanted to. I don't know the reason."

The officer wrote it off to shock. Sirens approached, the paramedics and ambulance arriving. The medics treated the worst of her injuries. She was relieved to hear that there were no broken bones besides her nose. When they started to lift her onto the gurney for transport, she lost it.

"No! No hospitals! I want to go back inside. I won't go. Get your hands off of me. I refuse treatment!" No amount of persuasion would get her to relent. In the end, shaking their heads, they got her signature (she scrawled illegibly, not being able to remember her last name) and released her. Sister Anne took all this in and kept quiet, as was her want. Liz helped Cynthia inside and Anne turned towards the officer.

"Sister, what happened?"

"It looks like a woman ran in, being chased by her boyfriend. Cynthia tried to run interference and got beaten for it. She's been beaten before and may be gun shy about authority."

"We're going to need her statement."

"I'll see what I can do and get back to you. If she won't talk, I won't make her."

"I understand. If it will help, we can send a female officer to take it so she can stay inside."

"Good, that will help. She seems comfortable here. God bless you officer. Thank you for getting here so fast."

"God bless Sister."

Sister Anne went back inside, concerned. She had not lied, per se, but felt that something was not as she had said. She had seen Cynthia smile at the beating. Why? And why had she not simply closed the door? Where the other women in danger? While she preferred not to ask questions, this time it seemed needed.

Liz led Cynthia up to the bunk room and looked over the bandages that the medics had left on her, as if to check on their work. With an eye that had far more practice than any 14 year old should have, she took stock of the injuries and concluded that Cynthia would be okay, but would have headaches for several days.

Cynthia had been thinking and knew what she had to do. Ever since the man, her lethargy had passed. It seems that she truly did need some sense of 'who' from men, likely about every two to three days. The thought of subjecting herself to random men for whatever they wanted terrified her, but not quite as much as that growing feeling of not doing anything. She needed to talk to the Sister.

"Liz, I need to talk to Sister Anne. I appreciate all you've done for me these last few days.

"You're gong back out on the street aren't you?"

It never occurred to her to try to lie to this overly world wise young girl. "I can't explain it, but I need to. If I don't, I'll either wither away or do something that puts you all in danger."

"I don't understand that, I never have. So many of the prostitutes just go back to their pimps. Do you really have to? I mean, can't you go back home? Was it as bad as mine?"

"What do you mean."

"Why do you think an eleven year old runs away to a women's shelter. My dad would rape me and my mom let him. I left. I'll never go back. It's that simple."

Cynthia could see it wasn't that simple. A core of hurt lay inside a vulnerable young woman like a malignant cancer. Liz got through each day by trying to help others and doing good, keeping the hurt and sadness away. She reached out and hugged the young woman tightly. "Liz, I can't promise that I'll be safe. What I'm planning can't be made safe. But I will promise that if there's a way to make it safer, I'll do that. You're doing good here with the Sister, be proud of that. I think she would quote some bible verse about how God has used what was done to hurt you and bring good out of it. Hold on to that, you are making a difference in people's lives."

A small crack appeared in the fourteen year old's armor. "Do you really think so?" she asked, tears showing.

"I know so. You've done me good. Just knowing that you're here and carrying on in spite of everything gives me and others hope that we can too. But, little one, let yourself cry occasionally, even if it's just in the dark where no one will see, but you and God, Okay."

"Okay."

Cynthia walked down to Anne's office and knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in."

"Sister, can we talk?"

"I was hoping we could. Have a seat. I know I told you that we don't ask questions here, but I need to make an exception. What happened out there should not have. Others could have been hurt. Are my women in danger from you?"

Cynthia braced herself and answered truthfully, "I don't know. They may be."

"Why did you go out and confront such a dangerous man?"

"I know this will sound crazy, but I didn't go out to confront him, I went out to give him what he truly wanted. And what he wanted was to beat a woman senseless and then rape her"

"I was afraid of that. I saw you smiling as he beat on your face. So you are a masochist""

"No, not all the time. This is hard to explain. It will sound like something from a bad B-rated sci-fi flick. Something poisoned me a while back, poisoned my mind. I can tell, from the way they smell, what a man's innermost sexual desires are, and I can't resist giving him those. And I mean can't. When I'm near a man, it's like the part of me here now, the part that can think straight goes away and another part, almost slavish, takes over, offering me up to whatever pleasures he wants."

"That just sound's like temptation. With prayer, temptation can be overcome."

"It's not that simple. I'm not knocking your faith Sister. It's clear that it leads you and guides you and is responsible for you're helping who knows how many women. But I truly have some sort of brain damage that makes it impossible to not give men what they want. I think it's scent based, because when I can't smell, I don't go away."

"That's why you have enough cough drops to take care of an army?"

"Yes, And my problems don't stop there. I could stay away from men and be safe from giving them their desires, but I would die. Before the attack, I was lethargic and had trouble getting the motivation to do anything. Now I'm hyped up, able to function. This part of me was being killed off by the poison, I think, leaving the sex slave part as the only part of me. There's not enough of this me to keep going on. It's like I need that sense of who I am to be bolstered by men's sense of who I should be to have enough strength to go on. In two or three days, I'm going to need another hit of man. I don't want to be here when it happens. I'll put all of you in danger."

"I can't say I buy your explanation, though I can see that you truly believe it. I can't have you seeking out potential abuse on purpose while you live here. It will come back with you. It pains me to say it, but I have to ask you to leave."

"I plan on it. I would like another day and a half, time to let these injuries go down. I'm figuring that my best shot at surviving this thing in me is to turn tricks. Johns want predictable things. If I can somehow stay in control long enough to make sure I'll be safe with them, I can get what my mind needs, the money to survive on and the time to remember who I am, if I can. My memories, at least some of them, are coming back, slowly."

"Hon, tricking is never safe. Johns are not always up front about what they want, and some will want what that man wanted. If you're not deluded, you'll eventually let some killer have his way with you. Are you sure that you want to do this?"

"Want, no. Need to, yes. I'll be as careful as I can be."

"If you're determined to do this unwise thing, do it right. Go to 37th and axel. There's a prostitute there named Gloria. She sometime takes newbies under her wing, teaching them the ropes. She's good people and a rarity for her profession. Someone who chooses to keep caring and one who 'turns tricks' because she wants to, not because she has to."

"I've met her. She brought me here that first day."

"That does not surprise me. Take two days. By your own reckoning, you won't be feeling that need until at least then. Now you hear me on this. You get into trouble, you come back here. We both know how long you can stay safely and can work with that. You still need to spend a night without tricks to come back, but you come back."

"I will Sister."

"I'll be praying for you Cynthia, praying that God heal you of whatever it is that drives you this way, whether it's this poison damage you speak of or the willingness to give into temptation that I think it is. Either way, only God can truly heal you."

"Sister, I don't think I'm much of a believer, but I do covet your prayers. And pray for my safety. I know what I'm going to do is dangerous. I just don't see any other choice."

"I will."

Cynthia spent the two days she had left at the shelter preparing as best she could for the life of a whore. She bought a couple more outfits, these being revealing, similar to what Gloria had worn. She put in hours of chores, wanting to make up for the danger she had put them in. She gave her statement to a woman officer, claiming to have bee trying to protect the other woman. While she didn't remember where the knowledge came from, she taught Liz some basics of chemistry and biology, sparking an interest in the girl, especially in the life sciences (Liz thought that if she knew how life worked, she cold help more). She talked to the two hookers inside trying to get out of the life about where the better cheap motels were. They steered her towards the Bel-Ayre motel. At $99 per week, she had just enough to get a place and then would have to trick just to replace the money she no longer would have. At the end of two days, still light out for an hour or so, she left to tearful goodbyes and implorings to be careful, to reenter the streets. Fear walked with her, seemingly to be a constant companion.

She was not worried about whether she could turn trick. Let the sex maniac out of her box, and it will happen. She was worried about coming back afterwards. How could she train herself to take a cough drop after sex, every time? Popping a lozenge, she walked towards the Bel-Ayre. Street people eyed her, trying to gauge who and what she was. No one harassed her. At the motel, she was able to get a room easily enough, with a warning that she could not bring men to her room. 

In her room, she took stock. It was a simple affair. It only had two rooms, a main room with the bed, TV, fridge, microwave and stove top(the appliances had cost her extra, leaving her with nothing to her name). She wasn't sure how things worked in the trade, when business happened. She dressed in one of her slinky outfits, advertising her availability. Tight pants that showed off her butt, lace bra and a zippered blouse that left her naval uncovered. High heels that forced her ass to swish invitingly. She felt slutty, like a whore. Of course, that was the look she was going for.

She put the food she had bought days ago in the shelf and saw that she already was short something vital. No eating ware. No plates, bowls, silverware, nothing. She had no choice, turn a trick tonight somehow, or eat cold chili with her fingers. Popping a Halls in her mouth and the extra large bag into her purse, she walked out, locking the door behind her and headed for the corner of 37th and axel.

This time, she got different looks from the people she passed. Ladies looked her over with an eye towards sizing up the new competition. That she didn't stop kept them from harassing her. Guys leered, imagining themselves in her bed, fucking her to ecstasy. She could spot the pimps from the greed in their looks as opposed to lust. They seemed to be holding off, unsure whether she was already in a stable. "Time will tell." They told themselves.

After twelve blocks, she arrived, Gloria leaning against a street sign casually, letting her charms advertise themselves. She saw Cynthia approaching and stood up straight, waving her over. Nervous to the max, she wandered over to the more experienced lady.

"So girl, you decided to do it."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Tell me honest, you ever turn trick before?"




All Things to All People Ch. 03



"No. What you saw earlier was a kidnap victim escaping from a meth house where she was used. But I don't have any other options. My memory's shot and I have other problems that will have me in a man's bed somewhere, no matter what I do. I might as well make something of the inevitable."

"Girl, you got some strange ideas of inevitable, but each to their own. This is what I'll do. You work with me for a week, taking on tricks that I pass on to you. I'll tell you what they want and how I know they're safe. You give me half of what you get. After a week, we work the same corner for a week or two more, letting the johns pick which they want. You pay me $25 a night for sharing my space. After that, you got to find your own space and time. I got to make a living you know. But two weeks with me and you'll know how the ropes work. You got a place to crash?"

"Yes, over at the Bel-Ayre."

"Good joint. Don't take no johns there, he'll toss you and keep your stuff. I'll try to introduce you to some of the crowd out here. Some are nice, some aren't, just like everywhere else. There's a few girls that will share a corner, so longs they get first dibs on calls. You take what comes buy while they's gone. You understand?"

"Yep. Gloria, I need you to do me a favor. When I get with a customer, I may change, like I was someone else. If you see me do that, make sure I know to take a cough drop after the sex. It's really important. If I don't, I might not come back."

"What's with you girl? Is it somethin dangerous?"

Cynthia knew she didn't want to explain the whole thing over again and then had a flash. "I've got something called MPD, multiple personality disorder. There's another part of me that will do anything for any man sex wise. The only way to get her back inside is to suck on a cough drop. She don't like them. If she can, she will stay out living in sex until she passes out. And she'll give it away for free. To let her out, I just need to be near a man and not sucking on a Halls. You've just got to impress on her how important it is to take a drop after the job's done."

"I don't know this MPD from shinola, but ifn you vamp out on me, I'll make sure you do the right thing, okay?"

"Thanks."

A car slowed and stopped next to them. The window went down and a man called out, "Gloria, you up to a little blow tonight?"

"Howdy handsome," she answered, her best sultry voice rolling off her tongue, "You want something special? I got a newby here, never tricked before. You give her some pointers on what makes a good blow, we'll take $10 off the top."

"Will she go bare?"

"What do you think girl, you willing to go unprotected on your first?"

Cynthia thought only long enough to know she'd do it in a heartbeat, for free, once she was alone with the guy. "Yeah, I can do bare." He spit the lozenge out, taking a deep breath to clear her nose. The guy looked hot.

"Okay, you go with him and follow his lead. Now, he's paying for a blow, nothing else. We don't give away out here."

Cynthia let herself slide out, the sexual part rising up in the vacant void. "Sure. Give this gorgeous hunk the blow job he's dreamed of. I can do that."

Gloria was amazed at the total transformation that came over this girl. Grabbing her chin, she looked her in the eye. "You hear me on this. When he cum, you take a cough drop. You listening to me? He done, you suck a Halls, or I don't give you no more tricks tonight."

"Okay, I'll do it." She pouted.

"Now remember what I tell you, money first."

Cynthia looked at the man and knew he wanted to pay her. "You got the money?"

"Sure love, here you go." He handed her four twenties. Cynthia gave two of them to Gloria and got into the car, snuggling up next to the man.

As they drove off, Cynthia purred into his ear. "I know what you want. You want to fuck my face. You want to ram it in deep?"

"Oh yeah. You into face fucking."

"It's my favorite thing. I can just about cum on the feel of a hard cock ramming against the back of my throat. I love the feeling of having to gag to take everything you've got. You going to make me gag, please?"

Her hand had dropped down to his pants, feeling a rock trapped in his pants. As she touched it, it throbbed, responding to her caresses. "Yeah, baby, I'm going to ram it down and leave it there until you choke on it, begging me for a breath. If you're real good, I'll let you up for air every once in a while."

Cynthia shuddered with pleasure, cooing and lying her head on his shoulder. The man could not believe how lucky he was. He gets a price break and a whore that will let him live out one of his hottest fantasies. He wondered how much of it he could act out. As he thought this, Cynthia whispered in his ear, "And when you cum, paint my face with your jism, all over so that I can scoop up giant finger fulls and savor the taste. It would be such a waste to have it all down my throat before I could taste it. I just got to taste it."

Barely able to control himself, he turned down an alley that was used for such rendezvous regularly. He pulled over and looked at her. "Tell me what to do," she cooed, "make me please you."

"Open my Pants bitch! Take my cock out."

Cynthia shuddered, thrilled to be ordered around like a piece of meat. "Okay, don't get mad, I'll do anything you want." She said in a mock cowed voice. She reached over and undid the button on his pants and pulled the zipper down. The outline of his cock poked through his briefs. Cynthia puller the briefs down, releasing the rock hard tool from its prison. The head glistened with precum and it jerked back and forth as his breathing got faster in anticipation of what was too come.

In the back of her mind, the rational part of Cynthia was surprised to be aware of what was going on. This was another first, usually she only awoke with the clear memories. It seemed that the two parts of her were becoming more distinct, separate from each other, and more aware of the difference. At this moment, she could not reason out why things were different, but went with it, hoping that this meant she could possibly take back over in an emergency.

He grabbed her head and growled, "Open your mouth whore." Her mouth opened and he shoved her down onto his cock, forcing himself all the way into her. Cynthia tried to loosen her throat to take him, but he was too far back. Her throat made swallowing sounds and she had trouble getting air down. She gagged on him, spit spilling out of her mouth onto his balls. He lifted her head up by the hair. "Blow me bitch, or you don't breath." Down she went again.

He went even farther this time, her nose pressed into his belly. As she struggled to get air past the tip lodged in her throat, she closed the inside of her mouth and lathered his cock with her tongue. Impossibly, it seemed like his cock grew even bigger in response. She could not get air past him now and her hands tried to push herself up. He held her down for several seconds more then lifted her up, saying, "Yeah, that's it, blow me good slut."

Desperate gulps of air raced past her lips in the few seconds it took for him to push her head down again. Wanting him to cum fast, she held her breath and blew him with a vengeance. She could hear him moaning in pleasure, a moan was more a growl from deep in his throat. While her tongue and cheeks caressed his cock, her lungs protested, crying out for air. She swallowed reflexively, her throat collapsing around his tip briefly. Then she felt that familiar clenching as he fought against the inevitable orgasm for the second he needed to pull her up so that her nose was an inch from his tip, her eyes taking in the pulse as he spewed.

Knowing what he wanted, she held his cock and pointed it at her face, letting his cum splatter her over and over. Cum sprayed onto her cheeks, into one eye, against her forehead and against her lips, pinched closed. Her hand milked him fast and hard, until he started to go soft. He jet go of her and she leaned up, face and hands covered with sticky cum. She went to lick it off when he stopped her.

"I want it to cool first. Let it dry a little."

In her mind, the rational Cynthia went, "Yuck. Cum is horrid cool. This should cost him extra." And to her surprise, she said out loud, "It'll cost extra."

Unperturbed, he pulled out another couple of twenties and stuffed them into her bra. "Wait until I say you can. Gad zooks girl, you are one hot whore. I'm going to tell my friends about you."

"Thanks," the sexy Cynthia said. I'd love to make them happy as well... for a price." She added in response to the rational part's thought

Five minutes passed. Cum had begun to harden on her body. Some had dripped onto the exposed skin of her breasts. Her eyes felt sore and she could see in the rear view that it had gone red. "Okay, clean yourself up. Eat everything and let me see you savor the taste."

Cynthia, putting on a show, made love to her fingers, sucking every drop of cum off of them, holding her gagging at the taste. Then she used two fingers to scoop up small puddles and spoon them into her mouth, making "Mmmmm" sounds, acting as if it was the best flavor she had ever had. She drew it out, like a stripper doing a strip tease. Her body cleaned off, as well as it could be, she bent over him and sucked the little that had ran down him off as well, then pulled his shorts and pants back up over his newly hardening cock.

Inside, Cynthia though, "Cough drop." And her sex self, recalling her instructions from Gloria reached into her purse and popped a lozenge. Eucalyptus flooded her sinuses and the sex kitten part of her faded away with a mental wink and rational Cynthia returned. The john was speaking, "Girl, no whore has ever left me harder afterwards than when I started. You willing to go another round. I'll pay of course."

"Bullshit" she thought, having seen just how hard his cock wasn't. To him, she said, "I don't think so, Gloria will be getting worried if we take much longer."

As he drove her back, she realized that, while taste was the excuse for taking the cough drops, it also really did drown the foul taste out of her mouth. He let her out on the corner where Gloria was waiting. "Well sugar, how was she?"

"She was great. You've got a natural there. If you aren't careful, she could take some of your business away. So you around"

He drove off and Gloria looked over her charge. Cynthia pulled the $40 out of her bra and handed half to the hooker. "He wanted something extra."

Noticing her pink eye, "I can see that. You let him cum in your face? You need to not add on to the job at their whim."

"I can't stop it. The part of me that does the sex, it doesn't know how to say no. I was lucky to get her to ask for more money. It really is like there's two minds inside and we don't communicate well with each other."

"Girl, you is serious. That's goin to make things hard, and maybe easy in some ways. The hardest part of hookin is doin things that aren't cool. When you been standing on the corner for seven hours and the only john you're goin to get wants anal, you suck it up and give what he wants, because, just like everyone else, we gots bills to pay. If you gots a mind that likes all sex, all the time, you have an easier time doin what's got to be done. Just be sure she don't start givin it away."

Cynthia didn't mention that this was the first time she was able to influence anything in her other half. No need to worry her. Three hours passed with no bites. The girl across the street got a pick up, disappearing for 30 minutes, but every other car just drove by slow. Gloria, not one to keep quiet, kept a running patter of advice for how to deal with the various aspects of the job, as it were. Baby wipes were a must, especially if she was going to take more messes in the face. Cum in the eyes was bad, it made you look like you were on something, a turn off for most and a turn on for those jerks you should avoid like the plague. It turned out that hookers didn't wear thick stockings for the sexy look, though that was a nice perk. It got freaking cold at night and those blessed things kept their legs warmer than regular hose. Never go with a drunk. They frequently couldn't get off and they always blamed the whore, sometimes beating the money back out of them

Around 1 in the morning, another car pulled up and the window rolled down. "High ladies. You working as a team." He said, hope sparkling in his eyes.

"No, we just sharing a corner. You see something you like?" Gloria answered, leaning down to the window, showing her cleavage off.

"Yeah, I like your tits. How much to fuck them?"

"Just $75. A special rate for a sexy hunk likes yourself."

"Hop on in. I got a room at the Mantle."

Looking at Cynthia, Gloria said, "You goin to be okay for a few?"

"Yeah, I think so. Should I wait if someone shows?"

"If you think it'll be okay while your on the Halls, go ahead and solo. I still gets my corner share."

"Okay."

Gloria got in and the car drove off. Thankful that it was spring and not late fall or winter, she stood under the light, trying to look alluring. Occasionally, a thought would pop into her head to adjust her stance in a certain way. "Is my other part offering advice as well? Why are we more aware of each other now?" She couldn't figure out what was different.

Remembering that she could get used to smells, she didn't keep a cough drop in her mouth at all times. Another car pulled into the area slowly. Popping a Halls, she smiled invitingly and it stopped in front of her. Through the window, a man asked, "Where's Gloria."

"She's with someone. She's giving me a hand getting started. Maybe I can help you out?"

"Maybe. How much for a poke?"

"It depends on where you want to poke. Mouth, $50, pussy $100, ass $250. Triple if you want it bare."

He pulled out a wallet and extracted six fifties. "I'll take a bare in the pussy, if you're any good."

"Dude, I'm the best there is." She spit the lozenge onto the ground and got in the car, taking the six bills and inhaling deeply. She stuffed the money into her purse and willed herself to back off as the sex kitten stirred. She cuddled close and whispered, "I can't wait to get you inside me. We need to go very far?" While she spoke, she ran her hands across his lap, feeling his cock stir to life.

"No, here's a little spot in the park that's out of sight."

They drove for five minutes, stopping at a broken streetlight. "Just past those bushes." he said, pointing to a large shrub. They got out and she pulled him through, onto a small clearing surrounded by bushes. The ground was littered with debris; used condoms, beer cans and bottles, a couple of needles and some buds.

In seclusion. She turned around, knowing what he really wanted. "How about you take me from behind. I can be your little bitch, hot in heat and desperate for a fucking. You can make me beg for it. Can you make me beg?"

Hearing his very own wet dream come true, the man growled, "Yeah, I can make you beg. And you're going to, too. On your hands and knees, dripping pussy wide open and begging for a fucking." "Oh God, that sounds so hot. I've never begged before, though, it's not lady like."

He reached down and unbuttoned her pants, shoving his hand inside and groping her pussy. He was pretty incompetent and only sex kitten's need to please got her aroused. Responding to the need transmitted through his scent, she struggled lightly, "No. Wait. I'm not that type of girl. What's happening. I feel so different. Please, don't stop. Poke me, please."

Feeling good about himself, he teased her mercilessly, or at least, he acted like that was what he was doing. If sex kitten had not already been so hot, responding to his smell instead of his fingers, she would still be dry. As near as Cynthia could tell, the idiot didn't even know where her clit was, assuming he even knew what it was. Rational girl wanted to just get this over with as soon as possible and she felt a hint of agreement from sex kitten.

"Oh God! I've got to have you in me. Please fuck me, stick you cock in my pussy and make me cum."

"Get on you hands and knees bitch!"

She dropped obediently, dropping her pants and panties around her knees as she did. He groped her from behind, not even finding her pussy lips this time. "Oh please, fuck me, I have to have it. Please fuck me hard." She wiggled her ass and pushed against him. He made her beg for three more minutes. Then he got on his knees, his cock poking through his fly and shoved himself in. It took only three strokes before he came inside her, yelling at the top of his lungs. Knowing he wanted it, she cried out, faking an orgasm for him.

Afterwards, he said nothing, just drove her back to the corner and left. Cough drop in her mouth, Cynthia switched back to herself again and thought, "What a jerk. No wonder he has to pay for it." Gloria was waiting for her at the corner.

As he drove away, "So how was God's gift to women?" she asked sarcastically.

"I had no idea that there were guys that incompetent at sex. He couldn't even find my clit. I'm not sure he knows I have one. Here's your half, by the way." Handing her three of the fifties.

"You let him go bare? Did he cum in you?"

"Yes. Three strokes and bam!"

Gloria laughed. "You must not be very good girl, he sometimes doesn't make it in me before he shoots off. Oooh, Ahhh. One thing to remember, guys don't like used whores, though you have to wonder why, since every whore is used goods, so to speak. So when some guy cums in your pussy or ass, you need to clean up with a douche. You've got $210 on your first night, I think that's enough. Lets get a bite at the 7-11 and head home. You can meet me here tomorrow at 7. If you think you'll do bare a lot, pick up some douches, or you'll have to call it a night after one fuck."

"Okay, Gloria. I want to thank you for all the help you're giving me. If there's some way I can repay your kindness, let me know."

"Just stay alive and safe, girl. I've seen too many girls turn into damaged goods. You're condition makes it more dangerous for you. If that other part can't say no, she could get you into trouble. I haven't asked, but where did you get those bruises?"

Gloria looked sheepish. "Sex kitten. A man chasing someone into the shelter wanted to beat up on a woman and she let him, in fact, encouraged him." Seeing the concern, she added, "Yes, it terrifies me. I may let some psycho have his way with me and actually like it. By the time we know what a guy wants, she's in control. I don't know how to take control back. I know what's happening, but can't interfere, at least not yet."

Gloria, not a dummy, had a thought. "Spit out that Halls and smell my breasts."

"How..., How did you know about smells?"

"Why else would a Halls make her go away. Whores do understand perfume, girl. Now smell my tits!"

Cynthia spit out the lozenge, saying, "Girls don't do it." Smelling the large breasts, she detected man, a tit man. Comprehending, Cynthia slid away and sex kitten came out again.

"Oooo, Can I have him between my tits. I love having my tits fucked."

"Is this sex kitten?"

"Yeah. Prrrrrrr"

Gloria lifted her chin up, looking into her eyes, seeing a difference she could not put her finger on. "Kitten, why did you let the man beat you up?"

"It's what he wanted. He wanted to beat up women for all they've done to him and then fuck them silly. I have to give them what they really want. It was fun,"

"Getting the crap beat out of you was fun?"

"It was when he did it."

"I understand. I want you to promise me something, whore to whore, okay?"

"Okay, what should I promise?"

"If some gut wants to beat up on you, take a cough drop before you let him start. You can still give him what he wants, but if you take a cough drop before he starts, you'll be able to give other men what they want later. That's important, isn't it, to give as many men as you can what they want?"




All Things to All People Ch. 03



"Oh yeah, I've got to. The cough drop will keep me able to please them?"

"Yes, I promise you, if you take a cough drop before someone hits you, you'll be able to keep pleasing other guys. Now take a cough drop, I have to talk to the other Cynthia."

"Okay, there's no guys here anyway."

As she swam back into control, her eyes teared up, "Thanks Gloria, I hope it works."

"We can only hope so. And that Sister Anne is praying for you. I don't have much truck with God, but she seems to have an in with him. In your case, we can use all the help we can get."

They headed to 7-11 for a big bowl of nachos, loaded with jalapenos in Cynthia's case, and a relaxing morning sleeping. Cynthia could not help but wonder if hooking was a permanent part of her life now, or if memory would come back and show her where she should be. One day at a time was all she could do for now.

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

As Cynthia slept the morning away, in a hospital room, Dave woke from a coma, his life finally out of danger. Hearing that seven days had passed, he knew that it was hopeless, but he asked after Cynthia anyway. Still bedridden, he thought of Cynthia, lost in a perpetual sate of sexual mania, wandering out there somewhere. He knew he had to find her, if only to grant her wish and kill the body that used to house that brilliant mind he had admired. He pushed himself hard and was able to convince the doctors he could leave in just two days. That he promised to stay bed ridden at home with no intention of doing so, was beside the point. His friend was out there and she needed his help.

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

As Cynthia slept that morning, the damage in her brain started to settle. Cells that had been disrupted by the meth fumes returned to normal function. Her smell center and sense of self remained at their current state, that damage being permanent, but the memories began to sort themselves out. She would wake up the next afternoon with new memories surfacing. Not enough to help her, but enough to give her hope. Unfortunately, the bulk of her memory was locked in cells cut off by damaged cells, unable to properly respond to incoming impulses. It would take something drastic to be able to penetrate that barrier, something she might not live through.

To be continued...



All Things to All People Ch. 04



Street Walker

What has gone on before

When graduate student Cynthia Halverston was poisoned by a compound she was working on, it turned her into a willing vessel for any man's sexual fantasies. Her sense of smell has been magnified while her sense of self has been weakened so much that her mind, in a desperate bid for survival, adopts what men around her secretly desire as it's sense of purpose. Only strong scents such pine cleaner or eucalyptus can keep her from detecting the desires of the men. Before she and her friend, Dave, can start to look for a cure, she is kidnapped by meth dealers and poisoned yet again by the fumes from the meth cooking process. By the time the poisons have interacted, the degradation of her sense of self has stopped, but her memories have been shot, leaving her unable to return to the campus. Killing one of the dealers, she escaped their house and managed to find refuge in a woman's shelter. On the third day in the shelter, an abusive husband caught her nose and she willingly went out to be beaten, saved only by the prompt arrival of the police. Leaving the shelter, she started working as a prostitute, the only way she could find to survive her affliction. With the assistance of Gloria, a seasoned pro, she was able to establish a tentative semi-communication between her rational side and her sex obsessed side. Now she plies the streets, becoming what each man she meets wants in a woman, for a price...

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

It was four in the afternoon when Cynthia woke up. As she had been doing each morning since leaving the meth house, she searched her memory for anything new. She had written everything she could remember the previous night in a spiral notebook she had purchased at 7-11 last night. A smile creased her face as she recognized a new memory. She was a college student, with a specialty in chemistry and biology. She added the information to the section titled 'past' and that she had remembered it to the section she titled 'present'.

She took stock of her resources. After 7-11, she had $197 to her name. She thought about hiding $100 to cover next week's rent, but wasn't sure it would be safe. She would have to ask Gloria about money matters. She wanted to get some real food into the motel. She knew she could not live indefinitely on 7-11 fast food and microwave chili. Dressing in conservative clothes, she pocketed her cash and cough drops and ventured out.

The nearest store was a mom and pop grocery three blocks from her place. She realized that she had to have some basic living memories, because she was sure that the prices were a bit steep. Traveling far from her room was not high on her list of priorities, so she sucked it up and paid the higher prices. She didn't get a second look as she wandered about, picking up basic foods. Dry cereal, 2% milk, bread, lunchmeat and cheese, microwavable pot pies, and a couple of TV dinners. On a whim, she picked up a first aid kit with ammonia capsules. Add some more cough drops and some pop, and she was set.

$65 and three plastic bags later, she was back on her way towards her room. Once there, she fixed herself a couple of pot pies and had a basic dinner. Then she hit the shower and dressed in one of her come hither outfits, advertising her charms. Recording her intentions in her notebook, this time under the section she called 'plans', she left the motel shortly after 6:30, popping another cough drop.

She was amazed at the difference a simple change of clothes made in how she was perceived. The people who didn't give her a second look before, eyed her with lust as she walked the twelve blocks to Gloria's corner. From a block away, she saw Gloria get into a car with someone and drive off. She walked up and stood at the corner, trying to adopt a provocative pose. A mental nudge came, and she adjusted her stance a little. "It seems sex kitten and I are connecting, at least a little. I hope she remembers to take her cough drops."

The street was busy, many of the cars slowing as they passed the women standing on the corners. It took about 20 minutes, but a car stopped beside her and a man in the passenger seat rolled the window down, another driving looking on.

"Hi there gorgeous. You looking for some company?" he asked.

Cynthia answered with a question of her own, "That depends. Just what kind of company were you planning on being?"

"The financially advantageous kind."

"In that case, I'm really lonely right now. What are you boys interested in tonight?" Cynthia was trying to ad lib the sort of repartee that Gloria used to weed out cops trying to nail her for soliciting.

"How about a little tag team action? You between us, everyone enjoying themselves?"

"Sounds like fun. Are we taking about front and back or end to end?"

"End to end. What kind of effort are we looking at?"

She swallowed the last of the cough drop and inhaled, trying to get a sense of what they really wanted. Sex kitten was knocking at the back of her mind, but she held off enough to recall what her mentor had told her. "For two at once, sounds like $300, up front."

The aromas were there, but rational Cynthia could not access what they meant. Knowing she had no choice but to trust kitten, she backed out and watched the rest from inside her skull. Her demeanor changed as the wanton slut inside surfaced and cooed at the men, just in time to hear the response. "Sounds like a deal. Do you have protection?"

"Oh yes, I have protection. Of course, you can have it bare for an extra $300, it you wish." Sex Kitten could smell the desire for avoiding rubbers on the air. Kitten would not normally make them pay extra for that, but the other Cynthia and Gloria wouldn't be happy and might not let her out to play if she didn't. Inside, Cynthia was a little frustrated, since Gloria had said that she always charged 3 to 5 times extra for bare sex. It wasn't important enough to fret, though, and she wasn't sure she could do anything about it anyway.

"What do you think? Is it worth it?" the passenger asked the driver. Cynthia formed her mouth into a big 'O' and sucked her lips in like she was giving someone head.

The driver nodded his head, "Yeah, I think so." Speaking to Cynthia, he said, "But it had better be worth it. For $600, I expect the fuck of a life time."

"Boys, I will give you a fantasy fuck for that kind of money."

"Hop on in. We have a room we can go to."

Cynthia climbed in the back and sat, her legs spread wide. The men took advantage of her posture and previewed the scenes of coming attractions. Inside, rational thinker projected, "Money up front." Sex kitten pouted, but said, "I hate to be a downer boys, but we do need to get the financial part out of the way first. It's so much sexier if we don't have to worry about it once we get there."

"Sure thing, doll. Here you go." He handed over 6 hundreds that Cynthia promptly put into her purse. The drive was not long, about 15 minutes, and they arrived at one of the less expensive national chains. They escorted her up to the fourth floor, fondling her as they went. Several people stared at the shenanigans with disgust, but no one said anything. Cynthia had to giggle as she realized that the men who acted disgusted were for the most part wanting things even more perverted than her two men. Inside, Cynthia was aware of the danger. Man scent was everywhere and if kitten ventured out of the room unprotected, there was no telling what she would do.

Once inside room 412, the men went to fondling Cynthia with more vigor. Kitten embraced the driver, kissing him full on the lips, allowing his tongue to penetrate her lips. She moaned into him as the other man unzipped her mini-skirt and pulled it down, revealing her thong. The man she was kissing interrupted it just long enough to get the t-shirt over her head and onto the floor, her naked breasts spilling out into the open. As the second pulled her thong down, he soaked his hand in her juices, "Damn, Marty, she's hot to trot. Her panties are soaked."

Cynthia moaned as they fondled her breasts and pussy, "Of course I am. How could I not be with a stud in front of me and a stud in back of me." She slowly pushed them back towards the bed, catching the guy in front at his knees, dropping him down onto the bed. She knelt between his legs, grasping his cock and licking at the head. The already hard penis throbbed at her touch. She squeezed the base hard, interrupting a too soon climax. "Not yet. I haven't had a chance to really play with you. Give me a chance to drive you wild."

"Uhhhg!" he cried, "God damn, suck my cock, suck in all the way down."

"Not yet. You're too excited. Now you just stay like this for a few and Cynthia will show you just what a blow job should do. Now no fair jacking off, you hear?"

She turned away from the moaning man she took the partially erect second cock into her mouth and slowly sucked on it like an all day sucker. She could tell that this one was going to go the distance with style, his cock slowly hardening. He grasped her head, holding her close to his crotch. His cock buried itself into her throat just as a hand from behind her groped her pussy. She jerked at the sudden intrusion of three fingers into her cunt, reaching in and wiggling against her pussy walls. She let her moans stimulate the cock in her mouth, coaxing some precum that she greedily swallowed.

"Dan, pull out for a minute." The cock left her mouth, to her frustrated moans. "Here, suck on this bitch." A hand appeared before her, soaked in her juices. She sucked each finger in, savoring her own juices as they were fed to her. When that hand was done, the other guy brought his hand up from her snatch, feeding her some more. She devoured all they fed her, like a woman dying of thirst being given life giving water, cool and crisp.

"Marty, she's not a whore, she's a slut that gets paid. Look at her. She loves this."

Marty scooted farther back on the bed, calling to her, "Come and get it little slut. Daddy has a treat for you."

Cynthia climbed up onto the bed, her hips at the edge as she took his cock back into her mouth. The other pulled up behind her and thrust his dick into her sloppy pussy. As his rock hard member pounded into her over and over again, she languished special care on the cock in her mouth. She could tell that this guy really wanted to last a long time, so she took things slow and light, barely stimulating him. When his hands came up to hold her head in place, she reached up and held them back. They didn't fight and flopped down at his sides.

She could feel his cock start to throb and she pulled off of him and squeezed again. "Oh God, what are you doing?"

"It's not time yet. How will I feel both of you cum in me together if you shoot right now." The throbs in his cock stopped and she took him back in and began the process again. The man in her cunt was not having the same problem. He pounded into her repeatedly, not getting any closer to climax. Sensing his need, Cynthia backed her hips back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, adding a little twist to heighten his pleasure.

The two men's groans were growing in urgency and Cynthia was beginning to get lost in the pleasing. Their cries of pleasure were turning her on in and of themselves. Her body was flushed with excitement, her nipples, erect as their cocks, were dragging across the sheets, the friction sending her even higher. Every time she pulled up to thrust her hips back, her clit slammed against the edge of the bed.

Still, the only thing Sex Kitten could concentrate on was their needs. Her mind enslaved to the desires of her johns, she focused on them, driving them higher and higher, wilder and wilder, her own arousal merely a side effect of the pleasure she was giving. As the cries from behind her reached a growling crescendo, she released her hold on the base of the cock in her mouth, letting him have free reign on his reactions.

The dick in her pussy slammed in once more and released, hot sperm pouring into her. That set her orgasm off and she moaned uncontrollably around the cock in her mouth. This drove him over the edge and he too started cumming. His first jet went into her mouth, but her own orgasm caused her to pull up and the rest splattered against her face and her hair. All three were locked in their own personal orgasmic throes for several seconds, before they crested and began to come back down.

Cynthia collapsed to her knees, breathing deeply, wiping the cum off of her face and licking it off of her fingers. She had the sense that she needed to do something now, but could not remember what. Savoring the taste, she started thinking about the other men she had passed, all in need of their secret desires being fulfilled. The smell of the cum on her face was too strong and rational Cynthia could not make contact clear enough to get the message through.

The man she had blown looked down at her and said, "It you want to get the taste out of your mouth, there's mouthwash in the bathroom."

Then it hit her, cough drop. She was supposed to take a cough drop. "Gloria would be so mad if I forgot." She thought to herself. Crawling over to her purse, she pulled on out and sucked on it. As the eucalyptus filled her sinuses, kitten sank back inside and Cynthia was back. She gathered her clothes and purse and retreated to the bathroom.

Remembering Gloria's advice, she douched herself and washed her face and hair out. As she was putting her clothes back on, one of the men called through the door, "Doll, you were great. We have to go. The room's paid for the night if you want to stay." 

As she heard the outer door slam, she muttered to herself, "Fuckers! Just how am I supposed to get back to my corner? God I hope there's a cab downstairs." Fixing her makeup, she exited the room and went down stairs, popping another cough drop.

As she reached the first floor, she was interrupted on her trip to the front door by an official looking gentleman. "Hold up there a minute, young lady. This is not some dive where you can ply your trade and get away with it. We don't want your kind here."

Still angry at being stranded, Cynthia retorted, "Then perhaps you should not rent rooms to people who are only looking to hire me."

He stuck his hand in her chest and leaned in to whisper, "Listen up bitch! This will go one of two ways. You can wait for the cops and your night will end right here and now, or you can come with me and I can explain just how we do things here. Which will it be?"

Cynthia sighed. She could not very well get picked up by the cops with no idea who she was. She wondered if this was a common occurrence. "Well if you just wanted a piece of the action, why didn't you say so. Lead on."

The man led her to the manager's office (now there's a big surprise) and sat down in the chair behind the desk. The blinds were pulled, granting a measure of privacy. "Sit on me and get me off." He ordered.

Thinking, "There's no way he's getting Kitten's expertise. God only knows what he really wants." Cynthia kept her cough drop in place and dropped her skirt and thong. Taking a condom, she stretched it over his cock and sat her pussy over it. Using her legs, she went up and down on it, pumping him mechanically until he came in the rubber five minutes later.

Pulling her clothes back on, she smiled at him and lied, "I'm glad we were able to do business together. You have a nice day." She left, neglecting to close the office door, exposing him to his staff behind the counter. 

One young man rushed to open the door for her and whispered, "If you take the service elevator, you can exit on the side and avoid Mr. Caruthers."

Looking at his mane tag, she thanked him, "That's very sweet of you Jim. I'll remember that." Leaning into him, she planted a long slow kiss on his lips, letting him take his time pulling away. "I'm working 37th and axel. If you want, come by and I'll give you a break. We don't get many sweet ones."

"I got a girl, we're getting married soon."

"Then I won't look for you. Don't mess it up, stay faithful to her."

Thanking her lucky stars, she managed to get a cab that was just dropping someone off at the motel. $20 later, she was at the corner, Gloria waiting for her.

"Hey girl. How's tricks?" she joked, her laugh sounding loud in the dark.

"I pulled a double, bare. This is your half." She answered, handing over three hundred.

"Okay, girl, how does a bare double only rate $600?"

"Kitten would only charge them double normal, not triple or more. I think she likes it bare and doesn't want to scare them away from it. Plus I had to give one away. He hotel manager was going to call the cops."

"Short bald fucker, cums in five minutes or less?"

"Yep, that's him."

"Cost of doing business, I'm afraid."

"I didn't let Kitten near him. Used a rubber and jacked him off with my pussy."

"Good girl. You know, word gets around that you're giving cheap bare backs, you'll not have any problem getting johns. Your problem'll be too many. Now, $300 is a good night, you cold call it quits and be ahead now. What do you think?"

"Are there nights where nothing happens?"

"Girl, they are the pits. Cold, sore feet and no money. Too many of them in a row and you be sleepin in a box in some alley."

"In that case, I'll stay out a bit. Plus I've got some questions, if you don't mind."

"That's part of what you be payin me half for. Ask up."

"How do you keep your money safe? I didn't think leaving it in my room was such a hot idea."

"You ain't heard of no banks girl? Just how bad is your memory?"

"I know about banks, but you need ID to get an account. I can't even remember my last name, let alone have ID."

"In that case, we need to take you to see Murphy. He's an artist of sorts. By the time he's done, you'll have no problem getting a bank account. In fact, we're up tonight, let's go see him now. You good with that?"

"Yeah. Carrying this much cash all the time is scary"

"You said it girl!"

They walked to a bus stop and rode the bus for about three miles, getting off in front of a photo studio. This pat of town was different and they drew stares, not very nice stares. During the ride, Cynthia had the feeling that she should be bothered about something but could not place what. It seemed strange to her that she should have been worried about the police more than having a fuck extorted out of her. She wanted to ask Gloria, hesitating only because it had the feel of a 'stupid question.'

Inside, the shop looked clean and nice. The receptionist, dressed almost as slutty as the two hookers, looked up. "Welcome to Dutch's Photography. If you can see it, we can picture it. How can we help you?"

"We need one of Dutch's specialty shoots. And we're kind of in a rush."

"Just a minute, I'll get him."

While she was gone, Gloria whispered, "This will cost you some. And Dutch, he don' take no trade, if you get my drift. And don' try to haggle. He knows we be over a barrel and won't budge, except maybe up."

The receptionist returned, followed by a young lady in a robe and a elderly man with thinning hair. He was talking to the girl, "Now come back Friday at the same time, and we'll finish the shoot. You think you'll be up for it?"

"Yeah," she answered, "you just caught me by surprise. I won't let you down."

"Good! Good! If you can do all five scenes, there'll be a bonus." Getting closer he noticed who was here, "Gloria, you old whore, how you doing?"

"Dutch, you dirty old man! You still shootin for the pornos?"

"It pays the bills. What are you doing here, and who is your lovely partner?"

"Dutch, this is Cynthia. Last name unknown. She's been forced to enter the world's oldest profession and needs a portfolio, if you will. You know, the kind with 1 by 2's."




All Things to All People Ch. 04



"Ah, I see. Last name unknown, eh. Unknown or unknowable?" He asked as he led them to the back.

Cynthia answered, "Unknown. Got stuck in a math house and my memory isn't what it should be." She stopped short, seeing a room that looked like a bedroom and reeked of sex, even through her eucalyptus. The switch was coming on in spite of her cough drops. Reaching quickly into her bag, she grabbed one of the ammonia capsules and broke it under her nose, the acrid stench wiping out all other smells.

"Girl, you okay?"

"Too much sex. Almost lost it. I should probably hurry."

Dutch looked at the pair with a curious look on his face, but had learned long ago that those in his business don't ask too many questions. "Right over here ladies. Now, Cynthia, how good an ID do you need? Buying beer, getting into bars, being legal to drive, getting through airport security."

"Well, I won't be buying much beer and such. I doubt I'll need to get into bars. Mostly, I need to be able to handle being ID'd by the cops. Oh, and I need to be able to get a bank account."

"So you're mostly concerned about dealing with bankers and street cops. Would you rather have a fresh ID with no history or would a recycle be good enough?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"A recycle means we just replace the picture in an old ID with yours and you take their identity. It's easy, fast and cheap. It's also easier to spot and comes with a history all its own. Maybe not one you'd like to be tagged with. A fresh means I need to have my boy hack into the state computer and input a fresh number into the system. Harder, more expensive and it won't stand a computer check for a few days. But once in, you can get a real one by simply renewing it at DMV."

"How much for each?"

"A recycle is $100 and a fresh is $400."

Cynthia thought for a minute. "$400 would wipe me out and leave me hanging for rent if I don't turn any more tricks. But the idea of adopting someone else's history seemed like a bad one." Confident that sex kitten could earn at least another $200 by the end of the week, she chose. "I'll take a fresh one."

"I assume you got the cash?"

"Right here." She replied, handing over three hundreds and two fifties.

"Step right over here. Now look at the cock and think 'I've been sitting at DMV for the last three hours', waiting, waiting," Flash! "Now, we'll need some info. Pick a last name, and don't choose Smith. They always get extra scrutiny."

All she could think of was a TV program that she had fallen asleep to. "Benson, Cynthia Q. Benson."

"I assume you're at a motel for now?" At her nod, he continued, "I'll give you an address in the projects. How about a birthday. It should be memorable to you. They always check to see it you remember you're birthday. You look to be around 30, so make it near 1977."

She tried to remember her real birthday, and a date came to her. She had no idea that she was remembering, not her birthday, but the day of her dad's death. "March 23, 1981" The smell of sex was becoming noticeable again and she took another whiff of the ammonia.

"A little younger than you look, but that will be believed in a prostitute. Now, if you will have a seat outside, I'll have this ready in about fifteen minutes."

Once they were back in the foyer, Gloria grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes, "Whose here? Cynthia or Kitten?"

"It's Cynthia. Kitten is awake but not in control. She feels upset."

"I had not though of him possibly doing some pornos. How did they affect you with a cough drop?"

"I'm not sure. It might be that there was so much. I think I detected five different men and the woman. I'm glad I picked up that ammonia."

"Me too, though the problem would not have been Dutch. He's gay, so I don't think you would have come on to him."

The thought tryed to make a connection. She had the sense that there was someone else she didn't react to. She could not place it. The frustration showed.

"Girl, what's wrong?"

"Oh, just a memory that won't come. There was someone else, another man who I didn't throw myself at, but I can't remember who he is, or was, or... Damn!" tears of frustration came to her and she was sure she was going to lose it.

"Easy girl. Easy. It will come to you, I know it. That's an important memory. Important we always remember. You are probably feeling loss at the only man you can be around and not want sex with. We all needs men who are friends, not lovers or johns. In this business, they be rare."

"I know, I know. But... don't hate me, but I don't like hooking. Sex Kitten does, but I don't. I feel like I'm doing something wrong and I don't know what. I'd give almost anything to be able to leave and feel safe."

"Damn girl. Your memory is shot isn' it. Hookin is illegal, a crime. Of course you're doin something wrong. Mos people see it as immoral. You probably did before you lost your memory. Unremembered morals are still causin you guilt. Does it bother you when Kitten puts out?"

"No. I know she has no choice. It's me. I could choose to go out only every three days, when I have to get a man fix, but I need to survive in other ways too. So I go out every night. And the hotel guy, I did him without Kitten. I wasn't going to give a creep like that her level of satisfaction."

"Let's try something tonight. When we get back to the corner, stop taking the Halls. I'll try to train Kitten to be a good, reliable whore. If it's all her, you should be off the guilt roller coaster. I promise I'll look after her real good. You up to it?"

"I don't know... It sounds dangerous. What if she doesn't come back to you?"

"You can come back when there's no men around, right? We'll rely on that. Worse that happen, she give more than she get paid for. She's been pulling in enough already that the loss won't be enough to hurt you. She already been doin that some. Don' think we can stop it anyways."

"Okay, I'll try it tonight. If it works, we'll see."

Dutch came out. "Cynthia Benson, your new ID card."

"Thanks Dutch. If you ever need a favor, let me know."

"Cynthia, darling, you ain't my type. But... Have you ever thought of doing pornos. I think you'd do well."

Just the thought of immersing herself in that much sex scent made her blanch. "Uh, no, I think I'll keep on the streets. It's safer."

Thinking she was joking, he broke out laughing as he wandered back to his studio. The pair headed back for the bus, Cynthia once again sucking on a cough drop. When they reached their corner again, someone was waiting for them, Harold.

"Harold, you know you ain't welcome on my corner. Beat it."

"Gloria, I got a right to talk to a whore as much as another man. I be thinking about employing her services. What you say bitch, how much for a blow and a lay?"

"Harold, she's not..."

"Wait Gloria." Cynthia interrupted. Spitting out her cough drop and readying another, she strolled over, taking in his scent. Trying something she thought of just now, she thought to Kitten, "What's he want Kitten, what's his secret?" She could feel Kitten wanting out and she made a stab at negotiating. "I'll let you out all night if you let me have this one. Tell me what he wants." She could almost feel the internal handshake and feelings flooded her. She smiled, a wicked smile, the smile of someone who knows a secret.

Reaching out and encircling Harold's neck, she cooed, "But Harold, why settle for a simple lay, when you can have what you really want. I know what your heart's true desire is, what you dream of when you're all alone."

She ran one hand down the back of his pants, playing with his ass, while the other wrapped his overly long scarf around one of his arms and his waist, playfully pinning the arm to his side. She licked his ear, sticking her tongue in and scraping her teeth along the lobe. She could smell the desire and fear warring inside him as she promised him bondage and ass rape, his secret shame.

"Get off me bitch! Get your sick hands off me."

Cynthia went dead serious. She hissed in his ear, "Harold, you bother me or Gloria again, I'll make sure everyone within the county limits knows how hard you got at the thought of a giant strap on rammed up your ass while you were tied down by a little slip of a woman. You hear me. Come close to us, or allow any other pimp to hassle us and I'll spread your secret on the 6 o'clock news. You got me, asshole!" She shoved him back and he ran, fear dogging his heels.

Gloria looked stunned, a smile creeping onto her face. "Damn girl. What did you say to him?"

"I told him what he really wanted from a woman, a dominatrix that would rape his ass with a massive strap on."

As Gloria laughed uproariously, Kitten was knocking at Cynthia's mind. "Gloria, I need to let Kitten out. I made her a promise. Take real good care of her." Putting the cough drop back in her purse, she let go and Sex Kitten rose up, a smile of lust on her face.

"Is that you Kitten?"

"Yeah, I feel horny. Why didn't she give him what he wanted?"

"Some guys are afraid of what they want, like Harold. That's why we give men what they ask for, not necessarily what they really want. What did Cynthia promise you?"

"That if she could have this one, I could have the rest of the night."

"Well little one, we need to talk, whore to whore. Come here."

Gloria took the next hour and a half trying to impress on Sex Kitten the importance of controlling herself. Enthusiastically pleasing the customers was one thing, that brought the all important repeat business. But she had to stop giving men more than they paid for. Some, like Harold, would react badly to the idea that a woman knew their inner most secrets. When they're ready for their true desires, they will ask. She knew that Kitten would always give more than was asked for, but if she could somehow limit that more to a sense of 'more of what they asked for' Kitten would survive. She was firm on one point. If the man did not bring her back to the corner, she would let Cynthia navigate the streets. After the 90 minutes, one of Gloria's regulars pulled up. As good a field test as any, she handed him of to her.

"Hey Steve. This is Kitten. I'm showing her the ropes. You want to field test a new pussy?"

Steve looked over Cynthia, liking the way she looked and the way she licked her lips. "So Kitten, how much do you charge for a fuck?"

"Well... Normally I'd say $100, but seeing as how you're one of Gloria's regulars, I'll charge you... $100." She could pick up from his scent that he would take a price break as an insult.

"Works for me. Hop on in."

When she was in, he pulled away. Driving to the alley she had been to before, he gave her a couple of fifties and indicated that they should step outside. She allowed herself to be pinned to the wall, kissing him feverously, her hands fumbling with his pants. Once down, she grasped his cock, bringing a gasp from him. His cock was already hard and a little bit of precum was leaking out. He in turn pulled her skirt up over her hips and dropped her thong around her ankles.

He was surprised to find her cunt was wet and her clit erect. Thrilled at her responsiveness and eagerness, he broke her kiss long enough to grunt out "condom." Knowing what he wanted, she reached into his back pocket, ripping the package open. She put the condom in her mouth and bent down to her knees. Slowly, she engulfed his cock in her mouth, the rubber fitting over him as she did. The latex taste gave her a thrill, just as every man's desire did, and her arousal grew even more. She kept him in her mouth a few minutes, rolling her tongue around his cock and sucking to create a vacuum.

He picked her up, as he got close, and set her down on his member. He wrapped her legs around his waste as he pistoned into her with enthusiasm. She buried her mouth and tongue into his and used her right hand to diddle her clit. As turned on as they were, they both came in minutes, he splashing cum into the rubber and her pussy trying to draw it into itself.

As they came down from their orgasms and he slipped out of her, he gasped, "You know, most whores don't get aroused, let alone cum. You're into the sex for the jazz, aren't you?"

"Is there any other reason?"

"Yes, but I expect you don't understand them"

As he turned to pull his pants back up, she held the rubber, smelling the wonderful aroma, her mouth watering as she poked a finger in and tasted it. He turned back, seeing desire in her face. "I'll give you another $50 if you let me pour this down your throat."

She handed him the cum reservoir and knelt down, her head tipped back with mouth open. As he tipped the condom over, he said, "Don't swallow right away, I want to see you mouth full of cum." The gelatinous mass glopped out of the rubber into her mouth. She moaned as the salty fluid filled her taste buds and the smell invaded her nostrils. As she knelt there, cum filling her mouth, he dipped his finger in and traced lines about her face. Wiping his finger on her upper lip, he said, "Swallow." 

Eyes closed, she savored the flavor and feel as the thick mass slowly crept down her throat. With a lip smack and an "Ahhhh", she looked up and said, "Easiest fifty I've ever made." He laughed as he handed over another fifty. He helped her to her feet and they returned to the car. He drove her back to the corner, stopping for a Pepsi at her request (she remembered to get the taste out of her mouth for the next, but wanted to stay out).

Back at the corner, Steve informed Gloria, "Gloria, if you're not careful, she'll steal all your business. I've never met a hooker more into her work."

"Kitten is a natural, if I can get her to not give it away."

"I'll bet she would too." He said as he drove off.

Gloria looked over the young hooker next to her. "Okay, girl, what did you do extra? You've got cum on your face."

"He paid me $50 extra to drink the cum from his rubber. It tasted real good."

"I'll bet it did. At least you got paid. Remember, we is whores, we don' do nothing for free. Now use your wipes and clean your face off. The next john won' like someone else's cum on your face. Now, remember, you still owe me half."

"Oh yeah. What's half of three fifties?"

"Try asking Cynthia."

Kitten looked confused for a minute, then brightened. "It's $75. I should give you a fifty, a twenty and a five." She looked through her purse, picking out the bills and handing them to Gloria.

"You two is getting better at cooperating. That's good."

Over the next five days, Cynthia and her alter ego, Sex Kitten, developed a routine to get through the days. Sex Kitten would hook for eight hours each day. Her take was significant, as word got around of a new girl that was working the street who was enthusiastic and would take on anything. Her ability to somehow meet the desires of her johns to the fullest drew them like flies to honey. She managed to turn four to five tricks each night. One thing that Cynthia found amusing was that over half Kitten's customers had no interest in going bare. The feeling that hookers were diseased ridden sluts was still common out there. She had no idea how true it was.

Cynthia would take care of the other waking eight hours of the day. By the end of the five days, they had a bank account, were on birth control, had paid the motel room for a full month and had gotten a pay as you go cell phone. They had $1000 in the bank and could have taken some time off, but with her need for manly input into her sense of being, they went out every day. A few more memories surfaced during this time, sleep seeming to be the key. They were, however, frustratingly small pieces. Her mom and dad's first names. Linking Dave whoever and the man she didn't fawn over. That she had a masters in Chemistry and a bachelors in biology, though she could not remember from where.

Perhaps the most important advancement in her situation was the increasing ease that the two parts of Cynthia's psyche communicated with each other. They had reached a point where they could hear each other's thoughts in the back of their head. Kitten was becoming responsive to reminders about things like collecting money and not giving away extras. Cynthia was beginning to think that she could live, or at least get by with such a life. She wanted to remember, but it was less of a stress on her as time passed.

Most of the tricks they turned were routine tricks that not even kitten got excited enough about to actually cum. She faked it a lot because an almost universal desire among men was for their women to get off on them. Cynthia would let Kitten have a few minutes to masturbate before going to sleep. Two tricks stood out as special, one because of the effect on their friendship with Gloria, the other, the last trick in that five days, because of its effect on her memories. A third trick, routine in the extreme, would be important for another reason.

On the third day, Gloria and Cynthia were standing together after having had a couple of tricks each, when a limo rounded the corner three blocks down. Naked fear painted itself on Gloria's face. Kitten did not understand what she was seeing and asked Cynthia, {what's wrong with Gloria?}

Cynthia answered, {She's terrified. Let me out for a minute.}

"Gloria, what's wrong?"

"It's him. I owe him. He's come to collect. God, Cynthia, I can't do it. I'm straight!"

"You're in debt to a girl?"

"No, a guy. He likes to watch women get it on. He pays well, but I just can't do it."

"Gloria, look at me. I'm straight, but I can handle sex with a woman. I've never done it, it's not a big turn on, but it doesn't gross me out. Let me take it."

"But I'll still owe him."

"No you won't. I got it covered."

The Limo pulled up. The back window rolled down and a man and a woman were visible. The man crooked a finger at Gloria, "Gloria. It's time to pay up. Monica here is anxious to get to know you."

Cynthia leaned in and inhaled deeply. {What's his kink, Kitten?}

{Mmmm, bondage, watching lesbians forcing on straights, he gets off on the fear}

{Can you do fear?}

{I can give him what ever he wants.}

{Follow my lead.}

"Hi, I'm Cynthia. Gloria asked that I take care of you. You see, I'm being trained, and you are supposed to be a good place to understand kinks."

"You charge the same rate as her? $2500 for two hours?"

"Yes, same rates."

Looking over her shoulder, "Gloria, you'll still owe me. I'll be back."

"How about you don't. You call her debt paid, I'll give you all night for free."

"You know what we want?"

"Yeah, you're going to tie me up and let Monica do anything she wants until sun up. It terrifies me and not getting paid makes it worse. But Gloria's a friend." She heard Gloria gasp in shock. Cynthia waggled her butt at Gloria in encouragement. "What do you say?"

"We both get you, right?"

"Deal." She stuck her hand out to seal the deal. He took her hand, squeezed it until she grimaced and said, "deal."

"Give me a minute." Turning to Gloria, she saw the tough hooker in tears. "Gloria, it's all right. Kitten says they don't want to hurt us, just use us hard. We can handle it."

"But... for free? Why?"

"Someone who didn't know me helped me when I most needed it. Doing the same for someone else seems the best way to pass along the favor." She said with a smile.

"You get back here by 7 or I'm calling the cops. I know who he is. If you're hurt, I'll see him fry. You hear that! You don't hurt her, you hear!"

"Gloria, she's going to have a wonderful time, you'll see. Come on in Cynthia. A loyal friend will be sweet to torment."

{Kitten, you're on. It gets too bad, you swap, you hear. This will be different. He might not be around all the time to guide you.}

{Don't worry. I'll have a ball.} Kitten said as they passed in her head, chuckling.




All Things to All People Ch. 04



The aroma from the man was strong, guiding Kitten's reaction. She felt increasing nervousness as Monica reached out and stroked her head, smiling with lust. Kitten shuddered in fear, becoming confused. Cynthia could feel kitten's growing panic at the fear, at the lack of arousal. {Kitten, don't panic. He wants fear, so you're feeling fear. That is giving him pleasure. Concentrate on that, the fear is his pleasure. The fear is his pleasure.}

With Cynthia's mantra in her head, Kitten was able to keep fearful but unpanicked. Monica pulled Cynthia into her lap, gently caressing her body, murmuring, "Poor little straight girl. Is the big bad lezzie scaring you? What will I do? Plant my pussy on your face? Fuck you with a giant dildo? Force you to have a lezzie orgasm? Maybe all three? Yes, all three. I'm going to turn you into a lesbian little one."

She kept up this dialogue, sending Kitten into constant trembling fear. Holding onto her mantra, she was able to keep in her groove of pleasing the man. Knowing it was expected, she whimpered softly, "No, please let me go. I can't do it. Please let me go."

The drive took half an hour and ended up at a mansion. Monica tied a rope around Cynthia's hands, binding them behind her back. She was led into the house and upstairs into a bedroom. The two tied her down to the bed, arms and legs spread eagle. Kitten's fear had grown in response to the excitement in the man. Cynthia's constant mantra, {the fear is his pleasure, the fear is his pleasure} kept her out of panic. Then the man left the room, taking his scent with him.

{Kitten, switch!} Not understanding the reason, she did anyway, having come to trust her other half. Cynthia knew that without the man's scent, Kitten's ability to act fearful would be impaired. Cynthia was able to pretend where Kitten could only be honest. She kept up the act, begging for mercy from the lesbian tormentor.

Monica slowly caressed the bound woman's arms and legs, watching the struggles and becoming aroused by the moans of combined fear and arousal. She teased and tormented Cynthia for half an hour, never leaving her legs and arms, just tantalizing her with near approaches to breasts and cunt. Occasionally, she would kiss Cynthia deeply, forcing her tongue into the helpless woman's mouth. Cynthia was surprised that she was being turned on by the whole thing. Not just the woman on woman sex, but being bound as well. Having been inexperienced sexually before the accident, she had never considered what kinks she might enjoy.

When Monica attacked her breast, Cynthia lost it. She had not thought that a simple nibble on her breast cold be so erotic. All pretence at fear was lost and she cried out, "Oh God! Don't stop. More, more!" Monica smiled as her ministrations were turning this straight whore bi. Biting gently, she sent the bound woman writhing in pleasure and frustration. Cynthia's cunt was sopping, crying out for attention, attention that had not yet come. She begged and begged, "Please, my pussy, touch my pussy. I need to be fucked. Fuck me! Please!"

Monica stayed clear of her cunt for another half hour, teasing her mercilessly. Then she stopped, letting the woman writhe on the bed, unable to affect herself in any way, crying out incoherently. She watched the woman descend from heights of arousal to a crying mass of need. Inside, Cynthia was on her own, Kitten having no guidance in the air. Arousal almost gone, but horny as hell, Cynthia was moaning and begging softly.

Monica climbed up on the bed and knelt over Cynthia's head. "Eat my pussy whore, or you stay frustrated, and maybe I'll spank you for being displeasing." Desperate for some release, Cynthia bent her head forward, reaching for the woman's cunt. Her tongue could barely reach the pussy lips, preventing her from arousing Monica quickly. Monica's juices tasted different from cum or precum, but not unpleasant. 

After fifteen minutes of barely reaching the lesbian's cunt, Cynthia realized that she would have to beg for what no straight woman would wish for. "Please let me eat your cunt. Please, Monica, sit on my face, smother me with your pussy." Letting the begging go on for several minutes, Monica finally gave in and dropped her cunt onto the woman's mouth. Finally able to reach it all, Cynthia attacked the pussy with gusto. 

She did things she thought she would like. She lapped at the pussy, letting her tongue slide into the folds and back out in a long swash that ended up at her clit. Pussy juices flooded her face, running into her mouth, onto her neck and her hair. She had the out of place thought, "I'm going to need a shower before bed this morning." Monica was in heaven. Inexperienced, yet passionate, this woman was driving her wild. With her clit only being touched every second or two, her arousal was prolonged until she screamed in ecstasy ten minutes later, clamping her knees on Cynthia's head. Cynthia was shocked at discovering that the woman literally squirted juice when she came. Her already soaked face and head were saturated and some was sprayed directly on to her breasts as she leaned forward in orgasm.

Monica pushed herself back and whispered, "You were great. Are you sure you're not a lesbian?" She licked her juices off of Cynthia's face with loving strokes, occasionally kissing the helpless woman deeply. "Do you want to cum?"

"Oh God yes. Please, eat me out, make me cum. Fuck me!"

Monica moved down farther, cleaning Cynthia's breasts and sending her arousal soaring again. Once she was writhing under the assault on her breasts again, Monica dived into her cunt, soaked in sweet juices, lapping at the edges, cleaning the border of Cynthia's cunt of the juices that were collecting there. Cynthia was being driven wild. She had no idea that her cunt could be stimulated in such a maddening way. She was bucking and twisting, trying to get a touch to her pussy and clit. The lesbian was too skilled, keeping on the edge for a seemingly endless time. When Cynthia had gone inarticulate, unable to get a understandable word out, she brushed her tongue directly into the pussy, the panting woman screamed in pleasure, yet not quite at orgasm. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body barely able to handle the intensity of sensation. Climax was only one more sensation away, and Monica's tongue flicking across her clit was it. Cynthia's body clenched, freezing for an instant, then a wail escaped from her throat and her body shook as an orgasm shook her like a Richter 9.0 earthquake. The climax went on for over a minute, extended by Monica's continued attention to the hyper-sensitized clit. Cynthia's arms and legs pulled violently against the ropes binding her, hard enough to have something go snap.

Monica's practiced ear caught the popping sound and stopped. Cynthia came down and was aware of a sharp pain in her left shoulder. "Owwww!"

"Cynthia, where does it hurt?"

"My shoulder, I think I broke something."

"Let me check, I'm a nurse." She probed the shoulder, after untying the arm. Her expert hands found that it was not broken, but had apparently dislocated partially and had reset.

"It's not broken, but we'll have to stop. There's too much danger of fully dislocating your shoulder. Too bad, I was looking forward to fucking you with a strap on while he fucked your face."

The man entered the room, "I'm so sorry. It was not our intent to cause you harm. Will you forgive us?"

"Actually, that was a mind blowing orgasm, well worth a strained shoulder. And, we can still do the double teaming, just as long as I'm not tied down. If you two are up to it."

Monica shook her head. "It's not safe. This close to a partial dislocation, it would be too easy to fully dislocate it. I'm going to bind your shoulder and then take you back to Gloria. Please assure her that we meant no harm."

"I think as long as I'm intact and she's off the hook for what she owes you, she'll be fine."

"Her debt is cleared. Would you be interested in a return engagement sometime?"

"Yes, for the usual fee."

"Of course."

"Now, you should go a day to let the joint settle back in. No strenuous exertion of the arm. This is my card. If it gets worse, come by and see me. I'll see that it gets treated for free."

"Thanks."

Her shoulder was wrapped and they drove her back to the corner, where Gloria was not present. The man insisted that she take the original $2500 fee as a visible way of saying they were sorry. Reluctantly, she accepted, knowing that in this line of work, you didn't turn down anything financial. Assuring them that she would be okay, she got out and waved them off. No one approached her for the 15 minutes it took Gloria to return.

Seeing her friend bandaged, the prostitute was furious, "Those fuckers! I'll see them in hell!"

"Gloria! Stop! It's all right. I sprained my shoulder having an orgasm. Do you understand? It was an orgasm."

"What you sayin, girl? You had an orgasm? You a lezzie?"

"Come on girl. You seen anything that say I'm a lezzie?" Cynthia snapped, imitating Gloria's own accent. "I swear, someone with that good a tongue would have you off too, disgust or no disgust. Best of all, you're off the hook, and we got paid. Here's your half."

Gloria tried to refuse, "No girl. You went out on a limb for me. I can' take your money."

"Yes you will. There was little sacrifice here. I enjoyed myself tonight, not Kitten, but Cynthia. I can't do the normal tricks without the guilt, though I think I'm getting over that, but this was actually fun. If they come back, I'm on board. You handed me a great client. Call it a finder's fee."

Gloria was too much a pro to turn down that much money a second time. She took her half and said, "Let's call it a night. You need to rest your arm and I want to buy you dinner. No arguing, I'm buying and we're going to Carlo's. You got elegant in your closet?"

"No, never thought elegant would be needed."

"No worry, I got something that will fit you. I wasn't always this big."

The two girls enjoyed a $200 meal at the elegant Italian eatery and splurged on a night at the Knockers Hotel, a five star establishment. By the next day, it was back to business as usual.

Cynthia did take a day off to heal her shoulder and on the fifth day, the other two significant encounters took place. The first one was a normal contact as far as she could tell. Kitten was putting herself on display and a car pulled up. Three guys were inside. "Hey, look who's here. Hey babe, how about some blow jobs?"

"Sure boys, three blows, that'll be $250."

"What? You're charging now? What happened to the free slut?"

"Boys, I'm a whore, in case you haven't noticed. Charging is what I do. Now, you going to pay, or are you moving on? I'd prefer to give you some head, myself."

"Drive on Mac. This slut thinks too much of herself. Wait till Rob sees this."

Cynthia, her memory still in shambles, wrote it off to cheap ass bastards. What she didn't remember was that these three boys were frat guys and Rob was her boyfriend's name. The close contact with her past drove off, Cynthia blissfully unaware.

The last event was a life changing event. It was after 2 in the morning. Both were thinking about calling it a night when car drove up. Gloria let Cynthia have this one. Kitten leaned into the window and was overpowered by the air freshener. The idiot had taken the entire thing out and flooded the car with vanilla. 

"Hi there. What's a nice guy like you doing out here in the wee hours?"

"You up for a blow job?"

"That's nice, short and to the point. $50 says I am, $100 if you want it bare."

"Normal's fine. Here's you go. Hop on in."

"Just a minute. Gloria, here's your $25. You go on home. I'll go home as soon as I get done here."

"Sure thing girl. See you tomorrow."

When she got into the car, she faked a sneeze, asking, "Can we get rid of this, I'm allergic?"

"Sure, go ahead and put it in the glove box."

Making small talk, Kitten asked, "You ever wonder why they call it a glove box? I mean, there's never any gloves in it." The scent was clearing and Kitten was beginning to get a hint. Cynthia, on the inside, had noticed that the guy was aiming for the freeway. She was bothered, something was wrong.

{Kitten, what does he want?}

{It's strong, real strong. Let's see, he wants to...}

{What Kitten, what does he want?}

Her inner voice took on a dreamy quality, almost hypnotic. {He wants to cut my throat and fuck me while it sprays all over him. That sounds so erotic.}

{Kitten, jump out now! He's going to kill us!} Cynthia was in a panic. Once they reached the freeway, they couldn't jump out without killing themselves anyway.

{But, it's what he wants. I've got to give him what he wants.}

Cynthia realized that something in this man's scent was different. Kitten was fully enthralled and could not resist. Her only chance was to forcibly take control and fast. In the mindscape they shared, Cynthia pushed for all she was worth. She felt like she was wading through molasses. She could not break through. Terror hit her, realizing that Sister Anne had been right. She was going willingly to her death at the hands of a maniac.

Inside her brain, things happened. Adrenaline was released in massive amounts, reacting to a flight or flight situation. Nerve receptors in her brain fired at extreme rates, including a dead circle of nerves surrounding the locked portion of her memories. More importantly for her immediate survival, normally dormant parts of her brain took on, temporarily, sense of self functions. Like a mother, gaining strength to lift the car off of her child, Cynthia was momentarily strong enough to break through.

Back in control, she thanked God that Kitten never remembered seat belts, grabbed her purse, opened the door and dove out as the car turned on to the onramp and accelerated to 45 miles per hour. She hit the pavement spinning, rolling over and over while sliding along the pavement at a rapidly decreasing speed, her skin being left behind as a human skid mark. She rolled off the road and into a large tree, taking the hit on her injured shoulder. She heard an audible pop as she lost consciousness.

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

Five days. Dave had been trying to track down Cynthia for five days. The police had closed the crime as unsolvable. No one wanted to put enough energy into the case to solve one of several dozen gang crimes in that three day period. The security camera at the clinic had not been working. Seems the gangs vandalized them every time they got fixed. Since they left the inside of the clinic alone, the clinic managers chose to not throw what little money they had at an unsolvable problem. After five days, Dave had to make a decision. Was she alive or dead? If she was alive, where could she be? What would a woman who became the sex toy of every man she met do to survive? When the answer came to him, he kicked himself for not thinking of it earlier.

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

At the frat house, the three members who had seen Cynthia showed Rob a picture taken by a cell phone camera. There was Cynthia, in all her hooker glory, standing on the corner. Rob could not believe what he had seen. Cynthia, his girl, selling herself to any man who drove up. His willingness to stand by her, to believe that she had been drugged that day eroded and he was in tears, being comforted by the very guys that had used Cynthia when she was vulnerable. Rob threw away all those things that reminded him of her and wrote her out of his life.

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

While Cynthia lay unconscious, her brain chemistry altered subtly. The extra sense of self faded, it's need gone. The paths to her memories, however, were more deeply burned in. Associations were restored and memories came flooding back. Being unconscious and hidden for 24 hours allowed her brain, in multiple dream states, to organize and renew. When she awoke, she would remember everything...

To be continued...



All Things to All People Ch. 05



Reentry

What has gone on before

Graduate student Cynthia Halverston was poisoned in a lab accident. The poison transformed her into a sexual chameleon who becomes every man's sexual fantasy by means of smelling their desires. Before she and her friend Dave can start the search for a cure, she is kidnapped by a gang of meth cookers who expose her to more poisons, blocking most of her memory from her. She tries to survive on the streets, penniless and with no idea who she is by turning tricks under the tutelage of hooker Gloria. During this time, her mind creates a separate personality called Sex Kitten, who handles most of the sexual escapades. Her last trick wanted to cut her throat and fuck her while she bled to death. Barely getting out of the moving car in time, she rolls up against a tree and passes out, seriously injured. Waking 24 hours later, her memories are back, thanks to the adrenalin rush of almost being murdered...

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

The first thought in Cynthia's mind when she woke was, "I'm alive!" The second was, "Oh God, I hurt all over." She opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings. She was lying against a tree that was encircled by bushes. The ground was littered with discarded cans, butts and paper. It was dark, the only light a dull glow from one section of bushes. She went to sit up and fire poured out of her shoulder. "That's not good," she said, her voice raspy, as she took in the shoulder that had a large round lump poking out the front. "Dislocated, I'll bet."

She looked at herself, taking stock of her injuries. She had scrapes and cuts on most of her exposed flesh. There was a rash of bug bites on her. Her head ached and a knot had grown in the back and on the left side of it. Her clothes were ripped, her already displayed body now showing enough to be considered legally indecent. "Dave would probably tell me I look like a CSI body stand in. Dave! Dave Reston! I remember! I'm Cynthia Halverston. I'm a grad student. I was poisoned by my experiment. Praise God, I remember everything."

She looked around and saw her purse. Opening it, she saw that her cell phone and cough drops were still in it. She started to dial for help and stopped. "Who do I call? 911 will take me to the ER and Kitten will come on to every man there. Dave can't fix me up and reset the shoulder. Rob? Rob would have a fit, seeing me dressed like a hooker. How will I explain all this to him?" Thinking to herself while she checked the purse for any other useful items, she came upon a business card. "That's it! Monica. I can call Monica."

She dialed the number on the card. Her cell phone said it was 9 PM, not too late to call.

"Hello, this is Monica."

"Monica, this is Cynthia. We got together a few days back? You gave me your card in case my shoulder got worse?"

"Oh, Cynthia, Gloria's friend. Yes I do remember, fondly, actually. Did it get worse?"

"Yes and no. The original injury got no worse, but something new has happened. I'm hurt kind of bad and I need help."

"What's happened?"

"I had to jump out of a moving car and I'm pretty banged up. I've been out for almost a day. Can you come and get me? I know it's a lot to ask, but I can't go to an emergency room."

"What kind of trouble are you in? Drugs? Stealing?"

"No, nothing like that. A john tried to kill me."

"Why no ER?"

"It's really hard to explain. I can try once you're here. Please. I've got no one else to call."

Cynthia could almost hear Monica thinking. Treating her in secret could cost her her license. She could be setting the nurse up. In the end though, Monica had gone into nursing to help people.

"Okay, I'll come to you, but I'm bringing a friend."

"Okay, but no guys. Please."

"Is this another hard to explain thing?"

"Part of the same hard to explain thing."

"Where are you?" Monica said with a sigh.

"Under a tree, behind some bushes near exit..." she scooted close enough to see the sign, "exit 216."

"Okay. You've survived 24 hours so I'm not worried about bleeding. Is your head or neck hurt?"

"I have a couple of bumps on my head and I may have dislocated that shoulder."

"Lie down. Don't move unless your life depends on it. I'll be 45 minutes."

Disconnecting, she lie down, her head beginning to ache. She thought of Sex Kitten.

{Kitten, are you there?}

There was no response.

{Kitten! Are you there?}

{Go away. I don't like you.}

{I can't go away. We're part of the same person.}

{Oh yeah. Why don't you like me?}

{Kitten, I do like you. You do the hard sex things that I have trouble with. I need you.}

{But you took me away from him. It was sooooo important.}

{I'm sorry, but he wanted to kill us.}

{I know. But it's what he wanted, what he needed.}

{I know. But there are some things we can't give men, like our life.}

{Why?}

{Because then we could never give men what they want, ever again.}

{Oh. Okay. Do you remember all this stuff too?}

{Yes, that's our life, our past, before we became two.}

The sexual dynamo whispered meekly in their head, {Do you want to go back to that? Not have me any more?}

{I want to, but I don't think I will be able to.}

{Will I die?}

{I don't know. I think it's more likely we will both change, turn into something that is part both of us. The physical changes, they will never go away. So I will always need what you can do.}

{I don't want to die.}

{I don't want you to either. If it does happen, I'll be with you until the end. I promise.}

{Okay.}

{Kitten?}

{Yes.}

{What does Dave want?}

{He wants a woman who will defer to him in all things, treat him like he's the most important thing in the world and be willing to do anything he asks.}

{He wants a slave?}

{I think so, but it never feels like that when we are around him. It feels like he wants to protect us and let us be us while being whatever he asks us.}

{Kitten, that doesn't make sense.}

{I know. That's why we just don't do anything when we're around him.}

A car drove slowly along the on ramp and stopped. The door opened and they heard a familiar voice. "Cynthia? Are you here?"

"Monica, over here."

The nurse pushed through the bushes, followed by another woman, larger and stronger looking. Monica had a black bag with her. Taking in the extent of the immediately visible injuries, she came forward and started to examine the shoulder. What she had feared since hearing of the dislocation was true. It had been out of socket too long. Putting it back in would not just be painful, it would probably send her into shock, passing out. Much longer, though, and it would not be able to reset. First, however, she needed to talk.

"Okay, Cynthia, thanks to your call, I've got nothing on my plate tonight. Why can't you go to the ER?"

Cynthia briefly thought of trying to make up a plausible lie, given that the truth was so implausible. She just could not think of anything that was not lame and stupid. Remembering her father's words, "Always tell the truth. There's less to remember," she dove in.

As she talked, Monica, used to taking patient histories from people with reasons to lie, kept her face passive. Cynthia was unsure whether that was to be taken as an encouragement or not, but she just told all the details. The lab accident. The first signs that something was wrong. The commando raid on the vet school. The diagnosis by the doctor. The kidnapping and loss of memory. Trying to survive on the streets. Her alter ego, Sex Kitten. Hooking. And finally the murder attempt and her winding up here. Looking resigned, she ended her tale and waited.

Monica spoke up, her detached clinician voice speaking. "Well, your story has the beauty of being internally consistent. The brain damage you describe could, in a remotely conceivable way, have the effects you're describing. You realize just how far out this story is?"

"Yes. But it's true."

"Can I see Sex Kitten?"

Cynthia and Kitten swapped places, something they did with ease now, at least when no one was trying to kill them. Monica recognized a similar visible change that night from the limo. "At least she is consistent." She thought. Out loud, she said, "Okay, Cynthia back please."

"Do you believe me?"

"No. But I don't disbelieve you either. There is something weird going on, I'll grant you that. You say you saw the doctor at the woman's clinic?"

"Yes. She interpreted the CT scans."

Monica had every woman's clinic in the city in her phone book. She dialed the number.

"Yes, this is Monica Davis, I'm a nurse at Tellview General. Can I speak to Dr. Thenton please? Yes, it's about a patient of hers. Yes I'll wait. Doctor, I have a patient in front of me who claims to have been in your clinic two weeks ago to have you interpret some CT scans. A Cynthia..." Turning to Cynthia, she asked her last name. "...Halverston. Could you briefly describe what those scans showed? I see. I see. Dead? Irreversible. What about fumes from a meth lab, could they have halted the damage? Unpredictable, yes. Remotely possible, I see. She's claiming that she becomes a sex maniac when she is able to 'smell' men. I see. Did you see any evidence of a multiple personality? Pliant. Followed orders. Oh, his orders. Yes, thank you. You've been very helpful."

Hanging up, she turned back to Cynthia. "It seems this incredible story checks out. At least you've managed to give the same internally consistent story to two different medical experts. Let's get you taken care of. This is going to hurt, a lot."

Monica grabbed her arm, having her companion hold Cynthia's body firmly. With a silent count of three, she yanked the arm out, pulling the misplaced ball joint away and letting Cynthia's own muscles force it back into the socket. Cynthia screamed in pain and passed out. Monica and the lady picked her up and took her to the ER at Tellview. She spoke to the admitting nurse.

"This is Cynthia Halverston. Attempted rape. Keep men away, it will provoke a panic reaction. The left shoulder was dislocated and needs to be x-rayed. Remember, no males."

Monica hurried things along, cutting Cynthia in front of all the non-life threatening patients. The shoulder and head x-rays showed no broken bones, a minor miracle at on ramp speeds. Cynthia was a very lucky woman. Given the severity of what actually happened, she was lucky to be alive, let alone is as good a shape as she was. She came to again as Monica was explaining to the doctor, Dr. Lewis, that Cynthia did not want to stay in a hospital.

"No! You promised! No ER. I said no ER."

"Cynthia! It's okay. I told them you were almost raped and are terrified of men right now."

"No men?"

"That's right, no men."

"I want to go home, can I go home."

The doctor answered, "It would be best if we could keep you over night for observation."

"No, I don't want to stay." Looking at Monica, she asked, "they can't make me stay, can they."

"No we can't. If you'll sign this release miss, we'll wrap your shoulder and let you go."

Cynthia signed the release and her left arm was wrapped so the shoulder would not move. She had Monica drive her back to the Bel-Ayre motel. She had some serious thinking to do. Inside the motel, she fixed one of her meals and sat down in front of a blank TV. She was in the unenviable position of being terrified of every choice that was open to her, all two of them. She could ignore her past and keep hooking like she had been for the last week. In all likelihood, she would be dead in a few years on that choice. Prostitution was dangerous, as the last 24 hours had shown. Even if a psycho killer didn't get her, Kitten's proclivity for ignoring condoms would lead to some venereal disease eventually, possibly even aids. Or she could try to go back to the life she had left and search for a cure. She would have to become a tramp or slut if her sense of self was to survive. She would probably loose Rob anyway, since she was doubtful that she would be able to keep her identity intact with only him. The chance of finding a cure was slim, given that she needed to cure dead brain cells. Eventually, she would come up against someone dangerous and her life would end.

"Damn!" she thought to herself, "I'm looking at a short life no matter what I choose. The only guy I don't try to practically rape is Dave, and he wants some kind of slave. How can I possibly survive with a life that has worth? Hooking is all well and good for staying alive, but there's more to life than staying alive. If only I could pick the men I react to."

She ended up deciding to make no decision right away. Realizing that Gloria would be worrying about her, she dressed in something reasonably conservative, restocked her supply of cough drops and headed out to the corner. The walk was different that it had been. With the attack fresh on her mind, every car held a potential killer in it, every john was possibly a Jack the Ripper. By the time Gloria was in sight, she realized that the level of fear was too great. The only way she could keep hooking was to give Sex Kitten full control of those hours and she could not make rational enough decisions.

She did tell the other hookers she passed about the killer she had escaped from, starting the grapevine working. With luck, no one else would be taken by this madman. Gloria was standing in her usual spot when Cynthia reached 37th and axel.

"Damn girl! You had me worried. Where you been the last day? You get beat up by a john?"

"Kind of. That last trick from last night, he was a psycho. Kitten said he wanted to cut our throat and rape us while the blood poured over him. I had to jump out of his car as it hit the freeway ramp."

"Well you look like you've been through a wringer. You're not working tonight, are you?"

"No. In fact, I'm not sure I can any more. My memory's back Gloria. I know who I am."

"That's good girl. Don't get me wrong. Tricking is dangerous. If you can go back to what you was, do it. No matter how hard it be."

"I'm not sure it will work. I'm still going to vamp out around guys and I still need to be around a guy at least every two or three days. The only difference will be that I'm not getting paid for it."

"Listen girl. I'm a whore. That makes me not the brightest bulb. But I know there's more than two ways to do anything. This ain't the dark ages, hon. We got modern medicine and science. Surely there be some way to fix you up or at least let you choose who to vamp on. What were you before this?"

"I was a doctoral student in chemistry. I was working on a new fertility drug that avoided multiple births and there was an accidental leak and I breathed it in unknowing. Being kidnapped to a meth house just made matters worse, though it saved my life, by taking my memory."

"Can't you whip up some chemical or somethin that makes your nose more picky? I mean, I was watching animal planet and they were saying how some creatures can tell whose related to them by how they smell. Can't you whip somethin up that makes you only notice certain guys?"

Cynthia's mouth dropped open. She tried to think of why it wouldn't work. It wouldn't be easy. Keying her odor receptors for a specific scent might render her incapable of smelling anything else. She wasn't sure, She needed a biology expert, Dave.

"Gloria. That's brilliant. I don't know if it will work, but it's a hope. I can't think of anything but a lack of knowledge on my part that would keep it from working. I am so glad I came to talk to you. I think the hardest part will be surviving finding a cure, or whatever. Would you mind if I came back periodically to get my man fix? The usual terms, of course."

"Girl, you got me out from under Devon. You can come back whenever. You goin back tonight?"

"Probably, I have enough for a cab back to the university. This is my number at my old apartment. You call me if you need anything, anything at all." Cynthia scribbled her number down on a piece of paper and gave it to Gloria. Gloria knew she would never use it for herself, but kept it, just in case another lost soul who should not be in the business found herself on the street. The two hookers hugged and Cynthia walked out of the streets, heading back for the life she knew, hoping against hope, that she could survive it.

She cleaned out the hotel of the meager belongings she had acquired, keeping the slut clothes as a back up, just in case everything went to hell. She left money in the account for the same reason, taking only $300. $50 of that paid for the cab ride back to the university and her apartment. The first issue she would have to deal with was that she did not have a key anymore. That was lost in the attack, along with all her ID. With her belongings stacked in front of her door, she went to the unenviable task of talking to the manager about a replacement key.

When the door opened to her knock, she started to say, "Hi Mr. McMasters, I'm really sorry to..." and Cynthia knew she was in trouble. Even through the eucalyptus, she could smell the room clearly. And the room reeked of sex. Memories came to her. This was Wednesday. Standing orders are to never bother him on Wednesdays. Now she knew why. There were eight people in the room, all in various stages of undress, most involved in sexual activities. As she was trying to get her greeting out, the manager was saying, "Tom, it's about time you..." As they stared at one another, Sex Kitten, powered by the aroma of four men and active sex, displaced Cynthia and responded in her own special way.

"You're not Tom. Ms. Halverston, you know better than to come to me on Wednesday."

Cynthia put her arms around the man's neck, pulled her face to within an inch of his, cooing, "Don't tell me you're going to send me away." Swallowing the cough drop and inhaling deeply, she continue, "I would love to join your little party." She took one of his hands and brought it down to the crotch of her pants, rubbing it through the wet spot that was beginning to form in the thin fabric. "See how excited you've already gotten me."

"I thought you wouldn't be interested in this kind of party."

She inhaled again. "Oh, why would you think that. I love being fucked. I love it in my cunt and my ass and my mouth. Can you all help me get what I love?" she asked, a sultry pout on her face.

McMasters swung her into the small manager's house, closing the door with his foot. He didn't know how she knew about his weekly swinging parties, but he was not going to argue. Hand about her waist, he led Cynthia into the main room, the aromas getting even stronger, and introduced her to the group. "Everyone, this is Cynthia, she lives in the apartment complex and came to join us. Cynthia, this is everyone."

"Hi everyone," she said with a giggle. "Would someone please fuck me?"

"Well, as the host, I think I should get first crack at you. Do you give good head?"

"I'm the best there is. Now you just sit right down there while I slip out of something less comfortable." Cynthia, watching from inside, realized that the concentration of odors was too strong to break and decided to lie back and enjoy it, metaphorically speaking. Kitten engaged in a two minute long striptease that had everyone, all five men and three women, captivated. With slow sensuous movements, each item of clothing was caressed off of her body like a second skin that had to be enticed to leave with promises for the future.

Her manager had removed his robe by the time she had finished. Cynthia knelt at his feet and kissed the head of the cock that stared at her with its single eye. A drop of precum oozed out and she licked it off, audibly savoring the taste. Her hands danced lightly on the cock, drawing little jerks out of it and more precum to be slurped up. He reached down to pull her head closer and she allowed him, engulfing his penis in the warm wetness that was her mouth. She licked him from inside her mouth, her tongue making swirls around the tip, alternating with deep thrusts, forcing him all the way against the back of her throat.




All Things to All People Ch. 05



While she was working on his cock, she felt a pair of hands pulling her hips up and back, moving her from kneeling to bent over on her knees. Then anther cock entered her cunt, sliding easily into the well lubricated lips. She moaned around the cock in her mouth as the empty feeling in her pussy was filled. She began to face fuck McMasters in time with clenching her pussy around the other man. Her mouth received the first load of cum, and she could tell from the smell of him, that he wanted her to not swallow. He pumped his load into her mouth, some of it leaking out the corners and dribbling down her chin.

The chair was pulled back and one of the women bent her head under Cynthia's and opened her mouth wide. Realizing what to do, Cynthia let the cum drip out into the woman's mouth, some of it splattering on her face. When the sensuous transfer had been completed, Cynthia's head dipped down and the two women licked the spillage off of each other's faces. They ended in a long passionate kiss with each trying to get the last of the cum flavor out of the other's mouth.

The woman pulled herself farther beneath Cynthia, leaving her cunt in front of Cynthia's face. Sensing the desire in the nearby men, she plunged her face into the cunt below her and licked the pussy with deep aggressive strokes that started at the clit, delved between the inner and outer lips and neded at the ass. The woman was licking the cock going in and out of Cynthia's pussy, savoring the mixture of precum and cunt juice that lubricated it. This added stimulation was all that was needed to send the guy over the edge, emptying his cum into Cynthia's cunt.

He pulled out, dripping more cum on the other woman. She in turn, pulled Cynthia down onto her face, eating the cum out of her pussy, and sending Cynthia into a frenzy of arousal. The two women were now engrossed in each other's body. Cynthia was discovering that there was cum in the woman and buried her tongue deep to get it all. While the woman had more skill at eating other women, Cynthia had a head start, allowing the two to hit their orgasms at almost the same time. While Cynthia shuddered on top of the woman, she went rigid, her muscles locking in the intensity of her cum.

As she descended from her climax, Cynthia detected other aromas, other desires to satisfy. She crawled over to a black man lying on the floor, slowly stroking his cock, already hard from watching the show. She positioned herself over his cock, and after giving him a long slow kiss that promised future excitement, she sank herself onto his shaft. As he began to pump himself into her, she felt a mouth at her ass, dribbling liberal amounts of spit onto it, the tongue pushing the oral lube into the hole. Then a hard, cold object pressed against her ass, forcing itself in inch by inch. A cock appeared in front of her mouth and she opened, allowing her face to be fucked as well.

Now three cocks were plunging into Cynthia, two real, one artificial. Her body relaxed, accommodating the triple penetration with an ease that surprised everyone there. The cock in her mouth spasmed, filling her again with cum. She swallowed the fluid, just in time for a pussy to replace the cock. Cynthia started to lick at the folds of pussy, capturing the drops of fluid that were constantly forming there. The dildo fucking her cunt was shoving her face into the pussy with regular and hard thrusts. Her nose kept hitting the clit in front of it, sending that woman into an orgasm of her own. Not long after that, the cock in her pussy exploded, pumping massive amounts cum into Cynthia's pussy. The hot cum triggered Cynthia's own orgasm, her body once again shuddering under the pleasure overload.

Those vibrations walked back along the dildo, to the cunt it was strapped to, sending the woman fucking Cynthia's ass into her own orgasm. She fell back, the strap on pulling free with a plop. The manager, his cock having recovered from its previous orgasm, came up behind Cynthia and plunged into her ass, still stretched by the dildo. Instead of pumping himself, he reached underneath and fingered her clit, sending her on another express ride to orgasm. So close to the last one, it took little time to reach climax yet again. The spasms in her ass, were what McMasters was waiting for, and he erupted again, filling her cunt with cum.

With all the men temporarily satiated, the strength of desire in them went down, allowing Cynthia to move back into control. She popped another cough drop to dull the smells and asked, "Mr. McMasters, could I get another key to my apartment? I lost the one I had."

Lost in the afterglow, he did not think about how out of place such a request sounded. He went to the key safe in his office and retrieved one of the spares for her. Cynthia had quickly dressed, not even trying to clean herself, hoping to get out before male desires renewed enough to coax Kitten back out. With cum and pussy juice seeping through he clothes, she bolted up the stairs, reaching her apartment without encountering another soul.

Once inside, she took a shower and threw the cum soaked clothes in the washer. Finally she was free of the scent of men and their wants. Tired, and her shoulder sore from the strain she was not supposed to have put on it, Cynthia went to bed and slept soundly. She awoke twice, needing to rewrap her arm and use the toilet. She did not get up until twelve hours after she had stepped through the door of her apartment.

When she awoke, Cynthia took stock of her apartment. A fair amount of the food in her fridge had gone bad, including her milk. The answering machine had 14 messages on it. They were a variety of calls from Dave, Rob and her supervisor in the department, all asking if she had returned and if she was all right. The last one, from Dave, was different. 

"Cynthia, I figured out that if you survived at all that you might feel like you had to find some way to survive the problem, making it work for you. I'm going to look for you on prostitute row. If I find you, I'll bring you back and do what you said you wanted done once the chemical had finished its work. You're my friend and I won't let you down."

"Oh my God. He's going to find me and kill me, thinking that my sense of self is totally gone. I've got to talk to him before he finds me," she said to herself.

Picking up the phone, she dialed Dave's number. The voicemail picked up and she left a message. "Dave, I'm at home again. The damage stopped, there's still me left. You don't need to do it. Call me, I have an idea for a cure, or something. I need your detailed knowledge of biology. Call me."

Next, she made a shopping list and went to the local store. Cough drops in mouth, she picked up replacement perishables. She knew she was putting off the hardest task in front of her, talking to Rob. She just did not know how she was going to explain the last two weeks to him. Yes, he wanted her to sleep with him, but he was always a fan of monogamy. Spending a week as a hooker was not what anyone would call monogamy. How would he handle the knowledge that she had to give some man whatever he wanted every two or three days to remain capable of doing anything?

Returning from the store, she ran into Mr. McMasters. "Hi Cynthia. Will you be wanting to join us next Wednesday. Everyone really enjoyed your presence at the party."

Forcing a smile, she dithered, "I don't know. I'll have to check what my school schedule looks like."

She put her groceries away and saw that the time was 3:15. "Rob should be back at the frat house. I should go and see him, let him know that I'm back and okay, somewhat," she mused. Half an hour passed and she had not left, standing and thinking about it. She really did not want to, dreading the conversation. As long as she did not go to Rob, she could still believe that he loved her. The decision was put off when the phone rang. Answering she heard a voice of an angel.

"Cynthia, this is Dave."

"Dave! I'm so glad to here from you. Where are you?"

"I'm driving into town. I just talked to a woman named Gloria. Are you all right?"

"I guess. I'm still trying to have sex with every man I meet, it seems. There's a lot to tell you. When will you be here?"

"I'll be about an hour. I'm just leaving the city. Stay in your apartment and don't let anyone in. we don't want you going off again, if we can help it. Do you need any more cough drops?"

"I've got a bunch. I've been stocking up when I can."

"Good. I'll call you when I'm parking so you can take one before I get there."

"Thanks, Dave. You're a good friend."

Cynthia called her advisor and left a message that she was back on campus, that she had been attacked and hurt. She asked if she could have a few more days off, maybe come in on Monday. The hour passed slowly, like all waiting time does. When Dave called from downstairs she took a cough drop and, when he knocked, she opened the door and embraced him in a hug. Her emotions, closed for so long, were beginning to surface, finally in a safe place with a safe person.

"Cynthia, what happened to you. I remember being hit over the head, then I woke in a hospital room days later."

"They were drug dealers, meth. They took me to their lab and used me for their pleasure. Oh God, Dave, I let them, encouraged them." 

The words spoken, the reality truly looked at, she broke down. Everything from the last two weeks came rushing in and overwhelmed her. The young lady who had been waiting for marriage to lose her virginity was face to face with the fact that she would give any man any sex they wanted any time they wanted, no matter what she believed. She had sold herself for money and let people beat up on her because that is what they wanted. She had even come close to allowing herself to be murdered. In the safety of her apartment, with the only man she had not tried to have sex with since the accident, the feelings that had been squashed down for survival's sake came welling up out of her. Pain, misery, shame and hopelessness was not a cocktail to be ignored long.

Dave, not the best at relating to people, was at a loss, unable to find a thing to say. He wanted to fix it, make the pain go away. In his inexperience, he simply held her and let her cry. Curiously, this was exactly what she needed, to simply allow herself to catch up with her emotions. Cynthia took comfort in the warmth of his embrace, safe in the non-sexual context of it. Even the tacit knowledge that he knew she had turned tricks and still came to her was a powerful balm to her heart. The tears came and went, very little said, for the next hour and a half (the nasal congestion that goes with sobbing kept her normal). 

Dave, after she had finished crying for a while, gave her another cough drop, not wanting the meek Cynthia right now. "Cynthia, don't take this wrong, but why are you still around, the normal you, I mean?"

"I don't know. I can only imagine that the poisons from the meth lab somehow canceled the poison that was killing my sense of self. Unfortunately, those same fumes induced a memory loss. I didn't know who I was for a week. The memories didn't come back until I was fleeing for my life. Possibly from an adrenalin surge."

"Yeah, that can happen. Tell me everything. How did you survive? Most I important, how is the problem manifesting now? Has there been any changes?"

Skipping the details of the actual sex acts, Cynthia related everything that had happened over the two weeks from the encounter with Gloria at the 7-11, the time in Sister Anne's, the encounter with the abusive husband, the discovery that she needed to experience a man scent every two to three days, her decision to work as a prostitute (Dave commented that that was the smartest choice in the circumstances), the development of Sex kitten as an alternate personality, the near murder, the recovered memories, the return home and the disaster trying to get her keys and the uneasiness at talking to Rob. At his prompting, she explained how she was able to get treated in the hospital, guessing that the antiseptic smell kept the more distant male odors masked.

Finally, she told him about the idea that Gloria sparked in her. "Dave, what if there was some way to program my nose to only react to a single man's scent? Or at least a reduced number of men's scents. I escaped from the meth lab because I had acclimated to the scents there. That let the real me act long enough to take action. Is there any way to acclimate my sense of smell to all but one man?"

Dave thought a while. He knew that in nature, there were cases where creatures could find their relatives by smell alone. Each body odor was unique. But, in some cases, the recognition extended to blood relatives that they had never met before. That suggested a genetic component.

"In theory, your enhanced sense of smell should be able to detect more than just sexual likings. In fact, that first night with Rob, recall, you were noticing other smells as well. It's like your receptors became more particular as time went on. With Rob, what were you aware of him wanting?"

"I just wanted sex with him, general sex."

"And at the frat house?"

"I wanted what they wanted. It was like I was anticipating their requests."

"And the security guard?"

"I knew... I seem to know that her wanted to be tied up, even though he was not thinking about sex at the time. And before you ask, I never knew whether the gang bangers got what they wanted."

"Still, we have a pattern. You sense of smell was refining, to the point where you could sense what men wanted in their subconscious. I'm not sure, but I suspect it would be even more sensitive if the math lab fumes had not somehow burned it out of you system. But was the same chemical that was destroying your sense of self, the one that was enhancing your sense of smell?"

"We could try to run some tests on the compound. Do you still have samples from the blood test and Philmore?"

"We should. This may be possible. But even if we can isolate the chemical that modifies your sense of smell, we would have to somehow link it to a particular aroma. That would mean somehow linking the chemical to a genetic profile of some sort, in some way. That's beyond me, I'm afraid." "Isn't Carl Menthe doing research on genetic immunity in plants?"

"Yeah. He's trying to insert a gene into the plants that makes them immune to certain diseases by way of a viral agent."

"I remember that he had the chemistry department do an experiment on splicing the disease gene onto the viral gene, finding if a certain chemical would accomplish the goal. I don't know what the result was."

"It's a start. First, we need to find out if the two actions of the poison can be separated. I'll pick you up tomorrow and we'll make some tests in the lab."

"Okay. Dave?"

"Yes?"

"You know how I don't come onto you sexually?"

"Yes?" Dave had been dreading this conversation. He did not want to admit what was going on, but felt Cynthia could not be lied to on this subject.

"Sex Kitten says that we act docile around you because you wants a woman who will defer to you in all things, treat you like you're the most important thing in the world and be willing to do anything you ask. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"You want a slave? Am I going to be your slave whenever I don't have a cough drop in my mouth?"

"Cynthia, I would never take advantage of you like that. I don't want a slave, I want a submissive woman. Someone who makes a choice to submit her life to my control because she trusts me and loves me. That's why I've never taken advantage of you when you're docile around me. You can't choose, you can only react."

"Do you think that there are women who would do that, give someone else control over themselves?"

"Yes, in fact, there's a whole subculture of people who dominate and submit. They call what they practice D/s or BSDM. Not everyone, in fact most, don't need love to be in the equation. I do, so I have not found a submissive woman that I am in love with, who loves me and who wishes to be submissive to me."

"Dave, that is so weird. I'm sure glad I haven't run into any of them."

"Actually, you probably did. The nurse and her friend, they sounded like a dominant couple who hired prostitutes for their submissives."

"Wow. Well, I'd better get to sleep if we're going to hit the labs tomorrow" Cynthia had noted that it was now after 9 PM.

"Yeah. I'll be by about 6, okay?"

"Right."

Cynthia fixed herself some dinner and went to bed, setting the alarm for 4:30. "Strange, that's when I would be going to bed a week ago," she though as she fell asleep.

Dave was prompt and they drove to the science building. They found an isolation lab that they could work in, justifying it since they were working with a compound that contained potassium chlorinate. They set up a beaker of ammonia between them to give Cynthia a break from the constant need for cough drops. They were able to determine that the 'compound' was actually a mixture of three compounds. Two of the three contained potassium chlorinate merged with another substance. The third was two substances merged without potassium chlorinate. Because of her work, she was able to identify the two substances as parts of the hormone from the species of mouse she had been working on. Next, they had to determine which compound, or combination of compounds had the desired and undesired effects. They set up six different animal experiments to test each individual compound and the three pairs that could be made from them (they already knew what all three would do). Then they set it up to proceed over night.

As they left, late in the evening, Cynthia said, "Dave, I'm going to walk home. I need to see Rob."

"Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah. I have my Halls. It's really important. I can't put this off if I want to continue to have a relationship with him."

"I understand. Call me to let me know you got home okay. If I don't hear from you by 10, I'm coming and looking for you."

"Thanks Dave."

Cynthia's stomach was increasingly upset as she approached the frat house. She could not get the memory of that day, servicing the guys any way they wanted, before Rob returned to throw them all out. Unfortunately, having all your memories doesn't mean they are useful. She had yet to put together that three of them had wanted to hire her on the street. 

She walked up to the door of the house and walked into the public area. Steve, one of the guys from the first encounter in the frat was there. He looked at her with an odd expression in his eyes.

"Steve, is Rob here?"

"Yeah... He's upstairs. What's been going on Cynthia?"

"It's hard to explain. Can I go up and see him."

"Yeah. Are you sure you want to?"

"Is there some reason I shouldn't?"

Steve just stared, unsure what to say to a woman he had fucked two weeks ago, at her insistence, and who he knew was tricking in the city. Cynthia looked at him confused and headed up the stairs. The door to Rob's room was open, both Rob and his roommate doing homework at their desks. Cynthia knocked.

"Rob?"

Both boys turned. The roommate got up, "Uh, I'll be downstairs, in the kitchen." He left, looking almost scared.

Rob's eyes shot daggers of hate. "What are you doing here!"

Fearful, Cynthia spoke softly, "Rob, I just had to talk to you."

Rob stood, his demeanor getting darker. "Oh, you thought maybe it was time to come and collect for the sex we had on our last 'date'. How much do I owe you , whore!"

Cynthia was stunned. Somehow, Rob knew already. "Rob, it's not like that. I was..."

He advanced, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her against the wall. Her cough drop slipped down her throat. "You little whore! Didn't you even recognize the guys who tried to pick you up? You were going to charge them $250 for a blow job each. They got your picture you slut. You want to try to deny it?"




All Things to All People Ch. 05



Crushing despair hit Cynthia. All she could do was try to explain, "No. But Rob, I wasn't me. There was a lab accident."

"Don't give me any of your science bull shit! There's no such thing as a drug that turns good girls into whores. You're a slut and I want you out of my life."

His reaction, the 'good girl' comment and calling her a slut, was too much. Anger welled up. "You fucking hypocrite! You enjoyed the 'slut' well enough when she came onto you. Is that what makes a good girl, they fuck you and no one else!"

SLAP! Rob's hand lashed out, striking Cynthia across the face. They started at one another for several seconds. The Cynthia turned and strode out, struggling to not give him the satisfaction of tears. As she walked down the hall (Rob's room was at the end), the smell of men washed over her. Sex Kitten found a hotbed of desire as Cynthia slowed. In her grief at the loss of the man she thought loved her, she didn't even try to resist. "This is what I am. I can't fight it. No one will accept me for anything but a whore." Feeling Kitten moving up, Cynthia turned to face the hallway, all the guys staring at her, some in shock, some in lust. "I'll take the entire house on for $2500." Before she could change her mind, she took her bag of cough drops and dropped them over the edge of the stairs, and fell away inside herself, letting Sex Kitten do what she did best.

While the guys scrambled to come up with the cash, Cynthia stripped her clothes off, dropping them in the middle of the hall. From down the corridor, a door slammed, a sobbing Rob unable to watch what was happening. Of the dozen fraternity brothers, only two chose not to take advantage of her offer. The other ten had little difficulty getting the money raised, though, ironically, Sex Kitten wouldn't have made them pay.

They led her to a game room at the end of the hall opposite Rob's room. Kitten was overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of scents in the air, all the desires wafting in the air. She grabbed two and drug them to the pool table. She lay on it shortways, hanging her head over one edge and her hips over the other. One of the two put his cock in front of her face, letting her suck it into her mouth while the other she had grabbed, pulled her legs apart and plunged into her cunt. A third guy climbed up on top of her and, dribbling spit onto her breasts, pushed her two globed against each other, his cock trapped between them. All three were pumping against her as she moaned in pleasure. The rest lined up.

Cynthia's hands flailed uselessly at her sides. Cocks were plunging into her mouth and cunt, and between her tits. She reveled in the sensations that assaulted her, the feelings, smells, sounds of being taken by three men at the same time. The guy in her mouth had tipped her head back as far as possible, allowing him to reach all the way back in her throat. Cynthia's mouth was trying to suck on the cock that was in constant motion. He increased speed steadily, rapidly approaching his point of no return. As his cock unloaded, he pulled out and splattered most of his cum onto her face and neck. As he backed away, Cynthia cried out for more, her arms reaching back to draw someone new into her mouth.

The man between her breasts was pinching her nipples while he squeezed her tits together. Her moans, each time he did, convinced him that she liked it rough like that and he pinched them harder and harder. The sight of her nipples being reduced to two thin swaths of skin, bright red and erect, was more than he could handle. His orgasm laid lines of cum across her upper chest and neck. He wiped the remains of his cum across her breasts as he climbed off of her.

The third guy, the one in her cunt was lasting longer. He went in slow and out almost all the way, watching the lips and muscles of her pussy try to hold him in unsuccessfully. He had watched the other two cum on her body and decided that he wanted that too. He watched guy another stick himself into her mouth, this one letting it rest in her, forcing Cynthia to do all the work. The vision of her mouth, rolling the cock in it and sucking in its cheeks was too much and he felt the climax start, pulling out and spraying her belly with cum.

A fifth guy replace him and wiped some lube from her pussy down to her ass and stuck himself into her there. The pressure on her ass caused her to moan loudly around the cock in her mouth. The thrusts in her ass were forcing her head farther up on the cock in her mouth repeatedly. This additional stimulation was enough to send him over the edge, cum pouring down her throat, as he held himself solidly in her mouth. Some dribbled out, joining the rest of the cum on her face. The view of cum leaking out of her mouth while a cock pulsed in her was too much for the ass man and he filled her ass with his spunk.

As the next men approached her face, Cynthia detected a different desire. Cooing at him, she cooed, "I've been a bad girl. Would someone please punish me? I need to be slapped and spanked."

The two could not believe their luck. The little whore liked getting slapped and hit. The one at her head grabbed her hair and slapped her face, asking, "Do you like that slut? Do you like the pain?"

"Oh yes, slap me more. Spank my ass, I need my ass spanked."

A series of slaps, both against her cheeks and her ass resounded in the room as Cynthia moaned and begged for more. Both sets of cheeks were turning red and getting hot in response. The one slapping her face stopped long enough to put himself in her and then started slapping again as she worked on his cock in her mouth. At her other end, the spanking moved from her ass to her pussy, his hand slapping down on her pussy over and over again. Cynthia felt the pain but wanted it because he did. She was crying out in pain around the cock in her mouth, causing incredible pleasure for that guy. He reached the point he could no longer concentrate on slapping her and shortly was pumping cum down her throat. Part way through, he pulled out and laid still more cum on her face.

Only then did the guy slapping her pussy stop and plunge into the hot cunt, warmed by the repeated impacts on it. As he entered her, yet another guy came up to her mouth, wiping his cock in the cum around her face. Slick with the cum of three other guys, he had her lick it off before he went back and wiped more onto himself. This time, he stuck it into her, letting her suck the fluid off him like an all day sucker. He was so worked up by watching all the others that he blew his load quickly, replacing the cum on her face with his own. The guy in her pussy was just cumming himself when a voice yelled from the doorway, "What in the name of all that's holy are you asses doing!"

Dave, who had not received her phone call, had gone looking for Cynthia, making the frat house his first stop. He stood in the doorway, one hand held behind him. He stepped to the side of the door and yelled, "Everyone out! This party is over."

Steve, one of the two still waiting, laughed, "Ease up Dave. She's a hooker and we paid her. It's not like we're raping her."

"Last time I checked, hiring a hooker was illegal. One call to the dean," he held up his cell phone, "and this house is shut down for good. So which will it be, backing off or closing down?"

Steve stepped up menacingly, trying to intimidate Dave with his size, "Dave, you don't want to piss off the wrong people. You leave now and we'll forget everything."

As Steve got close, his fist balled up, Dave's hand whipped out from behind his back and the tazer he held made contact. Zzzzzt! Steve rolled up into a ball, his muscles not working properly. The others heard the "beep, beep, beep" of three numbers being pushed on the cell phone and backed away, out of the room, two dragging Steve with them.

Dave didn't know what had happened, but suspected that Cynthia would be an emotional wreck. Instead of popping one of the ammonia capsules he had found with her cough drops, he went over to Cynthia and whispered, "Breathe deep."

As she did, Sex Kitten noticed the desire for submission and became pliant. "What do you wish of me?"

"Get up and put your clothes on. I want you in your apartment."

"Of course, whatever you say."

By the time her clothes were on, they were soaked in cum, leaving her state obvious to any who saw her. Kitten didn't care and Dave was more worried about getting her home before she picked up on someone else. Fortunately it was late and they encountered no one on the way. Once in her apartment, he asked Kitten to undress, take a shower and put on some PJs. While she did, he took her cum soaked clothes to the washer and started them getting clean. When he did not hear from Cynthia for several minutes after her shower stopped, he peeked in and saw her lying listless on the bed naked.

After pulling a sheet over her, he popped a capsule under her nose, the acrid smell driving all others out and bringing a reluctant Cynthia back out, overwhelmed with grief. Through the tears, she told him of Rob's reaction and her loss of hope, letting Sex Kitten have her way. He held her, anger growing at Rob, the frat guys and the whole set of circumstances. He vowed to himself that he would find some way to help her, if it was the last thing he did. 

Putting her to bed, he told her, "I'm going to sleep on the couch. Don't go anywhere without me. Now sleep. We have to look at the result of our experiments in the morning."

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

In the lab, six rats lay dying. Each died of some different cause, but all lay dying. One, however, would be found to have died from a fatal case of allergic reactions to a wide variety of airborne allergens...

To be concluded... 



All Things to All People Ch. 06



Kill or Cure

What has gone on before

Cynthia Halverston was poisoned in a lab accident and turned into a sexual chameleon, who becomes the sexual dream of every man she meets. Being kidnapped by meth dealers took her memories and left her unable to survive in the world except by working as a prostitute. Mentored by a kindly experienced hooker, she is able to make her way, giving johns what they really want. A psycho's attempt to murder her brings her memories back, enabling her to return to the world she was torn from. The return is bittersweet. Her friend Dave accepts her back and begins to work to help her find a potential cure, or at least a partial one. Her boyfriend, Rob, having learned of her time as a hooker, rejects her, sending her into a fit of depression where she gives in to her sexual alter ego and takes on the entire frat house. Only Dave's intervention stops the orgy and gets her back to her apartment, where she sleeps, under his protection...

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

Dave's watch alarm went off at 5AM. Rousing, he took a moment to remember where he was and why. Getting up, his clothes rumpled, he peeked in Cynthia's door, verifying that she was still in bed. He puttered around her kitchen, fixing coffee and a light breakfast. He knew that there was little time to find a cure of some sort. With the repeated shocks to her emotions, she was close to mental breakdown. What the poison didn't finish, the rejections she was facing would. He prayed a silent prayer that something would come from the rat tests they had set up.

As the bacon and eggs cooked, the aroma of coffee woke Cynthia up. She remembered the previous night and more tears came, tears for the loss of Rob and of her innocence. She dressed with little regard for how she looked, feeling that it wasn't important anymore. She did not know what she would do if Dave turned his back on her as well. She marveled at his self control in ignoring the opportunity her condition had presented him. She was realizing just how rare a true friend was.

Dressed, she popped a cough drop and went into the kitchen. "Hi Dave. That smelled good from the bedroom."

"It will be done in a minute. I made the coffee strong. Maybe it will let you eat something without the eucalyptus after smell."

She poured a cup and set the cough drop on the table. Head over the cup, she could smell the over strong French roast prevailing over other scents. "Yeah, it seems to be working. Of course, if I drink coffee all day, I'll be on the toilet more often than not. But it will be nice to enjoy breakfast."

Dave came over and put a plate in front of her. "Eat up. I made them spicy. Figured the stronger the taste the better."

"I did the same thing on the street. Gloria loved 7-11 nachos and I smothered them with jalapenos. By the time I had been out sucking a Halls all night, my taste buds were shot. And the spicy aroma worked as well as the drops." She could begin to detect a hint of Dave in the air, not enough to cause a problem yet. "Dave, you had better go home and take a shower. You're strong enough that it will cause issues in the lab."

"Will you be all right for an hour or so?"

"Yes. I won't even answer the door before you get back."

"Okay. I'll call when I'm downstairs."

Dave finished his breakfast and headed out the door. Undoing the chain, he cut himself. "Ow. Your chain lock bit me."

"I'm sorry, it was replaced recently and the new one is pretty sharp."

"That's okay. Be sure to put it back after I leave."

"I will."

Dave left and Cynthia locked the door behind him. With Dave gone, she was left alone with her thoughts. Rob's violent rejection of her was still weighing on her heart. Where was the guy that had patiently waited for her, respecting her choice to put off sex? Where was the love that she had been raised to believe in? It was a love that accepted others for who they were and did not judge solely because of what a person did. She thought that if Dave had cheated on her for any reason, she would hear him out before making a decision. He had given her no chance to explain, or even try. She could have understood if he had not been able to believe her story, but he had not even given her the chance. Was this all she had left to look forward to, mindless fucks with both friends and strangers, eking out an existence without meaning? She knew she could not live her life this way.

She made a decision. She wrote Dave a note. "Dave, I can't live my life this way. There is no hope. I will spend the rest of my life having to seek out nameless men for random sex to stay alive. That is not living, it is existing as an animal. I wish I had not recovered my memories. Then I could still be living the blissfully ignorant life of a hooker, unaware of what I was missing and what I have lost forever. Please do not try to find me. I'm going back to the streets in the hope that I will die there, soon. I can't bring myself to take my own life, but I can let someone else do it for me. You've been the best friend anyone could ask for. Thank you for your friendship and chivalry. Cynthia." She put the note in an envelope and taped it to the outside of her door. She left the door cracked, took only the things she would need for a life on the streets and left.

Outside, she hailed a cab and had herself taken to the Bel-Ayre motel again. Her old room was still available and she paid it up for two weeks. At the corner grocery, she restocked her foodstuffs and cough drops. She had become enough of a fixture that no one gave her a second glance. Back in her room, she lay on the bed, crying at the sadness her life had become, a thing without hope or meaning. In emotional exhaustion, she fell into a fitful sleep, not waking until it had become dark.

45 minutes after Cynthia left her apartment, Dave returned. Anxiety hit him full force when she did not answer her phone. Racing up the stairs, her found her note and the cracked door. Reading the note, he shook his head, muttering, "Cynthia, Cynthia. There's always hope. I'll find a way." He knew that going and getting her now would be fruitless. Without hope, she would simply leave again. He had to have something to give her hope in before he could expect her to come back. He took the key she had left behind, made sure that her rent was paid for another month and headed back to the lab.

In the lab, he found that all six rats had died, though not all of the same apparent cause. He sought out Gwen again, presenting her with six more necropsies. While they were not unusual circumstances, he impressed on her that there was a time sensitivity on them. She promise to have them all done in a couple of days and to forward her conclusions on a case by case basis. He asked her to start with the rats that had the non-potassium chlorinate compounds first. With the mice in capable hands, Dave went back to his own lab and decided to run some tests on the compounds in the tube, as it were.

Much of good science is instinct, that gut feeling of knowing where to start. His gut told him that the potassium chlorinate was instrumental in the death of brain cells, not the hyper-activating of them. That was why he asked for the order he did from Gwen. He himself started with the two hormonal compound and observed the actions that the compound had on mouse brain cells. He had difficulty at first in getting a small enough concentration to observe the effects over time. 

Three hours after he started, he saw that the two hormonal compound did just what his gut told him. It caused the cells to fire off impulses at an increased rate. Based on the dilution he needed, he predicted that the mouse with this compound in it had died of olfactory overload of some kind. His next step was to break scientific protocols and ignore the other samples for now. Cynthia needed help fast and he had to take chances. If the necropsy showed different, he could adjust.

He prepared another sample of the compound, much diluted and exposed another mouse to it. Setting up a recorder, he went to lunch while the mouse was slowly poisoned. He came back an hour later and saw that the mouse was agitated, but not dead. There was also a message waiting from Gwen. She indicated that the first mouse, the one that had been given the two hormonal compound had apparently died from a fatal allergic reaction, several actually. As near as she could determine, it had become allergic to just about everything in the air, as if its sense of smell had become too powerful to handle normal air.

Some short tests later, he determined that his current mouse had an enhanced sense of smell, able to detect a finger swipe of cheese residue through seven glass barriers at a distance of several feet. He called up the computer results of the test Cynthia had referred to earlier about slicing disease genes to a viral DNA marker. He was thankful that the results of student research was open on the closed server for the science building. He found that the process had been surprisingly successful, but had not been useful in Carl's research. The process was somewhat complex, but doable by someone with a master's in chemistry, such as Cynthia.

The rats that had been the basis of Cynthia's work had been from his lab. Their genetic code had been partially mapped. Fortunately, the mapped portions included the portions responsible for hormone production, so he was able to get samples of those genetic bits. Then he got samples of the DNA for one particular female white mouse that he identified as subject alpha. Finally, a viral carrier with a time bomb in it that would cause it to die off in twelve hours. Now all he needed was a chemistry whiz, and he knew just who to call.

Dialing his campus phone, he called Jarvin Engals. Jarvin was a prodigy. He had been a running start student who graduated high school with a bachelor's in chemistry and biology. The boy, now 19, was working on his master's and would have already finished, except that his research project was a longitudinal study. He was a well known rule breaker and loved to get involved in other people's work. Best of all, he was gay and would have no interest in Cynthia herself.

"Jarvin, this is Dave, Dave Reston. I've got a sticky problem that needs a delicate chemical touch. Would you be interested in giving me a hand? Yes? How about now? Cool. I'll see you in thirty."

He laid out his plan to present and waited. The gangly teen came in with his usual silly grin on his face. In the labs, he was like a kid in a candy store. Dave explained what he wanted to do, slicing two different genes sequences into a time bomb virus using the Menthe method. Jarvin was all over it. He had been left out of that research and was chomping at the bit to be able to lend his talents to the problem. He indicated that the process would take the rest of the day, and that the viral compound would be ready by the morning. Dave left him alone and went off to take care of some of his own work that had been piling up. As much as he wanted to go look for Cynthia, he had to wait until he had something to give her hope. That night, he slept fitfully while Cynthia woke and returned to the streets.

When Cynthia woke, she dressed in her hooker outfit and headed out onto the street. She was no longer interested in working with Gloria, who would try to convince her that there was still something worth living for. Wanting to be as dangerous as possible, to commit suicide by john, she sought out the one person she was sure would maximize the danger she would face.

She found him on 31st, talking to one of his girls. She walked down the street towards him until Harold saw her. The pimp, still irate at the humiliation she inflicted on him earlier stalked over to her, a small knife in his hand.

"Yo bitch! What you doing on my turf. You go or I cut you."

"Harold, I want in."

"Oh ho. So you choosing my protection. Not so high and mighty now are we?"

Cynthia humbled herself, not really caring. "No, I'll do whatever you ask."

"You bet you're ass you will. Get in my car. I've got a job for you."

Across the street, one girl watched the proceedings with interest. While Harold was her pimp, she didn't like what she was seeing. The only girls that got into Harold's car never came back from his special place. Knowing that Gloria had an interest in Cynthia (her reputation for doing anything had grown quickly and many of Cynthia's customers had been johns sent to her by girls unwilling to serve a particular guy), she headed over to tell the older whore what she had seen, after the two drove off.

Cynthia meekly obeyed, wondering without curiosity where he was going to take her. Harold drove his caddy to a rundown tenement that was no longer used for housing. There were condemnation signs on it, but the city had not put them there. On the way, he gave Cynthia her marching orders.

"I hear you good at giving guys what they want, that true?"

"Yes."

"I got a place where special customers come. You going to give them whatever they ask for. No rubbers, no complaints, no hesitation, you follow?"

"Yes."

At the place, he ordered, "Get inside bitch."

Cynthia got out and walked to the door, Harold following. Inside, she could make out the odor of dried sex, dirty bodies and some drug smells she did not recognize. Harold grabbed her arm and dragged her unresisting body to a room whose door locked from the outside. They passed a large man covered with violent tattoos.

"You try to leave, Mike will break you and throw you back, you hear?"

"I won't try to leave." Cynthia realized that she would soon become Sex Kitten permanently. The only thing holding her back was the last cough drop she had taken. The room had a bed, a sink and a toilet. There was a chain attached to the wall with a grimy leather collar at the end of it.

"Strip whore."

Cynthia took all her clothes off without a word. Harold locked the collar around her neck and took all her belongings, including her purse with its cough drops, slamming the door behind him. Cynthia took stock of her surroundings. As she had hoped, there was little likelihood that she would survive more than a few months in such a place. The chain allowed her full access to the furnishings of the room, but not the door. Resigning herself to her fate, she swallowed the last of the Halls and sat on the bed.

It was only an hour before the door opened again and a man came in. By now, Kitten had swapped places with Cynthia and was alert for his aroma and desires. She got off the bed, inhaling deeply as she approached, identifying what he wanted.

"Do you want to take me?"

The man said nothing, but grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the bed, throwing her on it face first. As he grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her back, she whispered, "Oh, I like it rough. Make it hurt, it feels so good when it hurts."

He took a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and slapped them on her wrists, cinching them tightly, locking them in the small gap in her wrists. Then, dropping his pants with one hand, he pressed her cuffed hands into her back, causing a sharp pain in her spine. His cock, hard and dripping precum, was shoved into her pussy.

"Oh God, yes. Fuck the pussy, get your cock ready to take my ass. Rape my ass, I want it so bad," Sex Kitten cooed, reveling in the sheer act of pleasing this man who reeked of sexual violence to her enhanced senses.

After several strokes to wet his dick, he pulled out and plunged into her ass forcefully. Kitten shrieked in pain as her unprepared anal cavity was stretched beyond capacity and started bleeding. The man ignored her cries and the blood and pounded into her repeatedly. As the blood provided lubrication, the pain faded a little and Kitten moaned loudly, appearing to enjoy the brutal assault on her ass. It took little time for the man to cum, pouring his seed into her ass until it overflowed.

When he pulled out, he grabbed her and sat her on the bed, sticking the dirty cock into her mouth to clean off. Kitten licked and sucked the mixture of semen, blood and shit off of his cock, making approving sounds as she did. Taking his cuffs back, he left her sitting on the bed. Shortly after that, Mike stuck his head in her door and told her, "You get cleaned up after every guy right away. Someone complain about sloppy seconds and I hit you." The door slammed again.

She cleaned up as best she could, using toilet paper to stop the blood oozing from her ass. Returning to her bed, she awaited the next man to abuse her. Sex Kitten dozed, having nothing to do and there being enough sex smell to keep Cynthia at bay. That state that she had been told might happen was in fact happening. She was unresponsive until there was sex to be had and then she was a slut. The difference was that in the back of her mind, Cynthia was fully aware of what was happening, as opposed to being gone. 

It was three hours before another man entered her room. He walked over to the bed, Cynthia rousing as he did. "Stay there. Spread your legs." She did so.

He knelt down on the floor in front of her pussy and stuck two fingers in, pulling against the walls, stretching them. Cynthia moaned as her arousal grew, her juices beginning to flow. As she widened, he stuck a third and fourth finger in, wiggling them around, fucking her cunt with the hand turned sideways against her lips. The stimulation was intense, her lips stretched to the limit. Her juices were flowing freely and her moans echoing off the walls.

Next, he cupped his fingers and assed his thumb, all five digits forming a cone shape that he slowly pushed into her inch by inch. When he reached the point where his knuckles stood at the edge of her pussy lips, he started moving his hand hack and forth, literally fucking her with a 'hand cock' that was three inches across. He kept this up until his entire hand and wrist were covered in her natural lube. That accomplished, he gave one massive shove, Cynthia crying in pain, as his knuckles forced their way past her cunt entrance and his entire hand entered her.

Inside her, he formed a first and thrust back and forth, rotating as he did, feeling the inner walls. He could feel her pussy clenching around his wrist as it spasmed at the sensations she was receiving. Cynthia was racing to heights as her entire sex was engaged in the reception of pleasure. The initial burst of pain from the massive penetration had passed and now it was the fullest she had ever felt in her short sexual career. His wrist was large enough that with every stroke, it rubbed against her clit.

The man's other hand had now dropped to his pants, freeing his cock so that he could stroke it in time with the strokes he as giving her. They both were propelled quickly towards climax, his timing good enough that he sprayed the floor under her bed just after her pussy started spasming in orgasm. Her climax lasted longer than his, continuing until he had extracted his hand from her cunt. He wiped his hand on her belly and left without another word.

There were no more special customers that night, leaving Cynthia/Kitten to doze until they were brought breakfast in the morning. Kitten ate, only because the scent on the man who brought her the food wanted her to do so. While she ate, she could hear cries of other women nearby, wailing against the slavery they were experienced. Kitten could not understand what they were so upset about. Inside, however, Cynthia understood and began to have second thoughts. She was willing to take this road to oblivion herself, but felt pity on the other women trapped here, likely against their wills. But now, she was powerless to help them, trapped inside by her own depression and lack of hope, as well as the constant smell of men and their desires. It would be after dark again before she would receive another customer.




All Things to All People Ch. 06



Dave woke early, anxious to see the results of the formula that had been concocted. He wolfed a quick breakfast down and raced to the science building. As promised, the viral compound was ready. He set up a test with several male mice, injecting them with increasing amounts of the brew. While keeping an eye on them for the next twelve hours, he caught up on the rest of his own work that had gone by the wayside while he had been injured and searching for Cynthia. Twelve hours later, he set up tests to determine how well the mice could tell subject alpha from the rest. 

He had made the choice because alpha was one of the mice that was in heat. Placing each of the injected males in a maze with several ready females, he tested to see which they would go for. The last dozen would seek out only alpha, no matter what the separation was compared to the others. They acted like they could not smell the other females. Then he set up another test to see if the males could find food (they had been starved for the last twelve hours) and found that only two could.

Dave was ecstatic. He had not dared hope that the tests would be so successful so quickly. The viral compound not only enhanced the sense of smell in the rats, but sensitized them to the aromas of just the female that had provided the DNA base for the compound. The two that could still smell food, gave him a baseline for computing a human dose for Cynthia that would key her to a single man and still allow her to use her sense of smell for other things.

Cleaning up, he left the lab and headed for his car. He drove back to the city to look for Cynthia and tell her the good news. 45 minutes later, he as cruising the streets, figuring that the best place to start was with Gloria. He found her at her usual place, but Cynthia was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Gloria, where's Cynthia?"

"Damn dude, you should have kept her safe. She went and hooked up with Harold."

"Harold, who's that."

"Bad assed pimp. Hear tell she's being held in his special projects building. Why she come back? She seemed to have hope."

"Her boyfriend found out about her hooking and rejected her hard. She ended up being taken by the entire frat house and was broken. She thinks there's nothing for her but nameless sex with whoever."

"Man, that's harsh. How can a boyfriend do that? He ain't no better than the coldest john."

"Worst part, I found a potential cure. It won't fix it totally, but she'll only react without control to one guy. I've got to get her back. Where is this special projects building?"

"You can't go there man. Harold knows you talk to me and he'll not let you in, or worse."

"Hmm. I may have someone I can ask for help. He's never been here before. He should be able to get in. What's security like at the place."

"The rumors are that there's only one dude, big guy, to keep the girls in line. Since customers get anything they want, they never would tell and girls only come out when they be dead. This guy a marine or something?"

"Better. He's a master chemist."

"Chemist! What chemistry going to do against a bruiser?"

"Just you wait and see."

Darkness had fallen at the tenement. Cynthia's first customer had show up. Kitten roused and inhaled as he approached. Sensing what he wanted, she got on her knees, presenting her open mouth to him. He ordered, "Lick my cock, get it nice and hard. You get me with those teeth and I'll knock them out."

Kitten licked at his cock, tasting the sweat, the residue of not bathing for several days. As he hardened, precum leaked out and she licked it off the tip. She would lick at his head, then down and up the shaft as it grew slowly, occasionally sucking one of his balls into her mouth and gently squeezing it. He grew to enormous length, over twelve inches long. 

Once he was fully erect, he grabbed her head and told her, "Open wide, bitch and choke on this." He slammed her head down on his cock, lodging his tip in her throat, blocking her airway. Her lungs tried to gulp air unsuccessfully, the motions stimulating his dick. Just as she was starting to pass out, he pulled her off, giving her a second to gasp twice before he repeated the action, choking her again. It went on like this for seemingly forever, choking until her vision blurred and then desperate gulps of air in the brief flurry of seconds he pulled her face off of him.

Even the near brushes with unconsciousness gave Cynthia that needed adrenalin rush to get back in control. Her hands came up, trying to push him away, but he grabbed her hair and slapped her face twice, hard, bloodying her lip. "Listen whore, I paid for you and you'll take it and like it or I'll beat the crap out of you and cum down you're unconscious throat. Now get them fucking hands behind your back before I break them!"

Terrified, Cynthia, out but unable to affect anything, did as she was told and endured the repeated near blackouts as he plunged himself deep into her throat. Hoping to get him off as quickly as possible, she worked her mouth, increasing the stimulation on him as much as possible. When he finally came, he held himself deep in her throat, pouring his spunk directly into he throat, bypassing her mouth altogether. When he pulled out, she coughed and gagged, cum threatening to go down her windpipe. By the time she looked up and could see, he was gone, leaving her crying on her knees as Cynthia fled back inside herself, freeing Kitten once again.

Three hours later, her life would change again. This customer had paid an extra premium for what he wanted. As Kitten watched, he set a small mirror on the bed and emptied a packet of white powder on it. Using a business card, he arranged the powder into lines. Inside, Cynthia recognized lines of cocaine. Terror hit her, not having any idea what another drug being introduced into her system would do with her already drug damaged physiology. She wanted to force her way out, but the fear level was not enough, there was not the fear of imminent death. Helplessly, she watched herself, under Kitten's control, snort a line of coke into each nostril along with the man.

Five seconds later, kitten lost all sense of smell, her nasal linings seared by the drug. Her mind went into overdrive, the powerful illegal stimulate sending her synapses into overload. Kitten was in a panic, desperate to retreat from consciousness, but the hyper-activated cells would not let her. The man was laying her on the bed and beginning to caress her, actually trying to make love to her while she was experiencing this high.

Inside their head, Kitten was begging for help.

{Cynthia, Help!} {Kitten, swap, get in here.} {I can't. I can't go away.} {What's wrong? What's stopping you?} {I don't know. Help me.}

Cynthia could feel the effects of the drug, even inside like she was. It occurred to her that if the drug could reach inside like this, maybe she could reach out. Drawing on an imagery technique she had learned about in a psych class, she called out to Kitten.

{Kitten, reach out to me.} {How?} {Imagine you have arms and reach down deep inside and try to grab my hand.}

Kitten felt a reaching sensation as she tried to do what she was asked. Cynthia reached up in her imagination, feeling for Kitten's hand. In their mind's eye, they clasped and pulled, Cynthia rising up while Kitten did not sink inside. In Cynthia's brain, the guided imagery she employed managed to briefly control the effects of the high, linking two areas of her brain that had separated over time. Cynthia and Sex Kitten merged into one mind, leaving Cynthia as a single person again, with the full capabilities and limitations of both previous parts.

The whole person was able to ride to the drug induced high and partially enjoy the more intense than normal sensations from her pussy and tits. Ironically, her orgasm was almost unnoticed in the chemical euphoria that was in effect at the time. She was not even aware of the man leaving or Mike looking in to see if she was still alive, or the other times to check on when she had come down. It was four hours before she was normal again, thinking to herself, "That was a rush. I hope I never get that again, or I just may want it too much."

It was thirty minutes after that when her next customer showed up. This guy was different. She knew him! "Jarvin? What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing the fair maiden, of course."

"But, how do you plan on getting past Mike?"

"Oh, was that his name. He should be out like a light. Better fighting through chemistry," he said, peeling a pair of latex glove off of his arms.

"Jarvis, what was on those?"

"MDH. That idiot out there is out like a light and won't remember a thing."

"You laced a date rape drug on gloves and shook hands with him?"

"Yep. Ain't chemistry wonderful? Now, careful, we don't want any concentrated hydrochloric acid on your neck."

He extracted a glass vial and dripped the viscous fluid onto the lock. Several seconds of sizzling later, the lock gave way and Cynthia was free. Taking her hand, he started to lead her out.

"Wait. There's others. We have to get them out. You have your van, right?"

"Yeah. But where will we take them?"

"Leave that to me."

They found five other girls in rooms, all needing to be freed, four of which were so listless and beaten down that they had to be led by the hand. The fifth still had fight in her and was able to assist. Outside, they loaded up everyone into the van, though there was a shortage of clothes to go around. Dave was in the van waiting.

"Cynthia, it works, the cure works."

"Cure. You found one?"

"Mostly. We'll talk when we're alone."

"Jarvin, drive to 25th and empire. There's a woman's shelter there."

"On it."

Jarvin drove to the shelter, parking next to the door. Cynthia led the five women into the shelter, the small bell ringing familiarly as it closed. Footsteps approached and Sister Anne looked at Cynthia and the girls in shock for a moment, the yelled, "Elizabeth! We have a code blue!"

To Cynthia, she asked, "So what brings you back to our home with five naked women in need of shelter?"

"We were in Harold's slave house. We escaped with the help of some of my friends."

"And what of you?"

"I'm whole again, though my problem is still there. There is hope."

"Dear, there is always hope, until we give up on it."

Liz rounded the corner, dragging the box of clothes. "Oh. Showers first. If you ladies will follow me, we'll get you cleaned up." The 14 year old took charge like she always does, herding the ladies upstairs to the showers. Leaving the capable one in charge for a minute, she rushed back downstairs and ran to Cynthia. 

"I was so worried about you. Are you okay? Are you still hooking?"

"Liz. I'm glad to see you. I'm fine, better even. And I'm leaving hooking. I've got my memories and my hope back. I'll be fine. You've been good?"

"Of course. If I wasn't., the place would fall apart. Are you staying?"

"No, I've friends outside waiting. Waiting to take me home. I'll try to visit, volunteer some time to repay what I've been given."

"Got to go. They won't know what to do." The energetic girl raced off again, leaving Sister Anne and Cynthia alone.

"Sister, I really believe that your prayers helped protect me. When I have time, I'll stop by and let you know how they were answered."

"I'd appreciate that. And God has used the evil that came to you to do good. God bless you."

Cynthia left and got back into the van. Dave gave her a cough drop and they drove her to her apartment. After promising to not run off again, Cynthia went up to her apartment and went to sleep, not waking until mid afternoon.

Cynthia dreamed. Rob was holding her in his arms, caressing her naked back. Her own hands were returning the caresses, one rubbing up and down his back while the other ran through his hair. They were dressed for the beach, he in a tight swimsuit, barely holding him in. Her bikini top held her handful sized breasts firmly, the nipples poking through. The bottom covered just barely enough to be decent while riding up into the crack of her ass. He brought his lips to hers, kissing her slowly, not quite with open mouths.

The surf washed over their feet, it's cold caress a counterpoint to the heat emanating from their bodies. The sand between their toes oozed over their feet, sinking them gently into the muddy mixture as they sank into each other's senses. Cynthia bent her lips to his neck, planting little kisses and love bite there, a low growl of passion rumbling in her throat. He pulled back, giving her better access, groaning at each touch of her lips and teeth. She gripped him close, gripping his head and back, almost as if in fear that he might vanish if she let go for an instant.

Then she crouched down, playing her tongue over his nipples, swirling them and sucking them into her mouth. Each one in turn, received exquisite attention, as if each were a little cock and getting to cum in her mouth. She would lightly drag her teeth over the areolas and nipple, sensing shivers of pleasure through his body. His hands supported her back as he leaned forward, bending her at the waist, giving her more unfettered access to his superfluous organs.

She descended even deeper, dropping to her knees, her face coming even with his trapped manhood, straining against the silk cage holding it in. She licked the length of his shrouded cock, feeling it tense off and on in response to her ministrations and the promise of more. Her hands grabbed handfuls of ass cheek, pulling him closer, letting herself turn her head sideways and engulf his shaft, still in the suit, her teeth pressing playfully on the fabric. She could feel the heat radiating from him, warming her already warm mouth.

She pushed him onto the bed (the change from beach to bed making perfect sense in the dream), grabbing his shorts and pulling them down, freeing his cock from its prison. Precum was smeared across the tip, an inviting aroma that she breathed in, smiling. Sticking her tongue out, she licked the delicious fluid off, tapping a seemingly unending flow as each lick brought more out to be licked off in turn. Frustrated at the slow pace, she engulfed his cock, pumping her head up and down its length, her lips tight, milking every drop of the clear fluid it could.

Hands reached down to her head, holding her, caressing her hair as the cock in her mouth grew even larger, filling her completely. She welcomed the feeling, savoring the taste of his skin, the musk produced by his balls and cock. Unable to push up against the hands that held her down, she sucked on the cock, swirling her tongue around it, enticing it to release it's store of nectar. She could hear moans of pleasure, unsure whether they were from him or her, just knowing that the sounds themselves were arousing, driving her own pleasure even higher. Her naked cunt (she cared not how it got that way) was dripping juices down her legs, leaving slick streaks along the inside of her thighs, adding her own scent to his, the combination as intoxicating as wine.

He was thrusting against her face now, an urgency building, as his climax approached. Her own ministrations grew more agitated as well, her tongue demanding the taste, the promised taste of ambrosia that was mere inches away, but locked tight against accidental consumption. Both their voices were crying out, his loudly, hers muffled by the gag of flesh and blood and almost cum that filled it. When he came, it was as if his cock exploded in her mouth, filling her with warm salty honey. In spite of the seemingly impossible quantities, she spilled not a drop, her mouth filling and expanding to hold everything.

The still erect cock eased itself out through her clenched lips, leaving his entire load in her mouth to be lovingly swallowed, a drink as precious as the rarest wine. His cum seemingly energizing her, she crawled up on top of Dave (the change from Rob to Dave seemingly natural and right), lifting her pussy to be speared by the pole standing erect from his waist. She bent down, staying impaled, to kiss him and share with him the residual taste of his (or was it Rob's) cum still on her tongue. His hands gripped her ass and he began to slowly, almost imperceptibly, thrust himself in and out of her.

Their kiss did not end, each unable to give up the wondrous sensations of their tongues dancing with each other in a slow waltz. There was no urgency here, only a desire to live this moment of heaven to its fullest. Slowly, their mutual arousal built, sensation upon sensation. His cock thrusting against her pussy lips and womb. His pubic hair fondling her clit lightly. Her breasts rubbing against his chest, the erect nipples playing footsy with his nipples. Each pair of hands wandering, exploring the lesser known parts of the bodies, looking for new and unusual ways to bring pleasure to their lover. When their climaxes came, they trembled in the strong, yet gentle embrace of each other. As the dream faded to black, Dave and Cynthia each murmured expressions of undying love to one another.

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

While Cynthia slept and dreamed of two lovers interchanging themselves, the last traces of cocaine in her system worked one more change on her mind. The focus that her center of smell had was loosened somewhat, broadened in its ability. This change could have worsened her dire circumstances but for the unique opportunity it provided her. But would she take that opportunity, to risk her future on a single roll of the chemical and biological dice?

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

While Cynthia slept, Dave wanted to check on the mice in the lab one more time. Using the access pass that all doctoral candidates had (experiments that could give you your doctorate are not nine to five events), he entered the dark building with something nagging at his mind. Inside, her felt hope for Cynthia steal away from him. The test mice were dying, some already dead. Had he given his friend false hope? Refusing to give up, he worked through the night and morning, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Every test he ran told him the mice should be alive, yet they were laying down and dying. Exhaustion overtook him at 2 PM and he fell asleep at the desk, his notes scattered on the table in front of him.

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

"Wow! That was some dream. Where did that come from?" Cynthia had awoken and was marveling at the sheer eroticism of the dream she had had. She had taken enough psych classes to know that, while dreams didn't have meanings per se, they were attempts by your mind to sort through the events of your life. She had no trouble figuring out at least part of the meaning. Dave had replaced Rob in her life. Rob's betrayal was a willful act on his part to leave her and Dave had been there for her the whole time.

Anxious to see what Dave had in the way of a cure, she showered, dressed, wolfed down a ham sandwich and headed out the door, the ubiquitous cough drops in her mouth. She wanted to experiment with smelling someone now that Sex Kitten ad her were re-united, but that would have to wait. The last thing she needed was another sexual escapade. Of course, if they were all like her dream, she would welcome them.

The trip to the science building was uneventful, the eucalyptus having the desired effect. She arrived at 3 in the afternoon and found Dave sleeping at the lab desk, papers strewn about, possibly when he collapsed. She had seen this before, someone working so long that they passed out from lack of sleep. The professors didn't like it, but it happened. No one had been hurt in such collapses, seeing as they usually happened during write ups, not the experiments themselves.

Shifting through the papers, her heart dropped as she took in the results. As they had discussed two or three days ago, the cure wasn't a cure, but a way to lock her into just one man, instead of all men. That wasn't the problem, she could live with that. It was the deaths. It seemed the mice were dying off for no discernable cause. Nothing Dave had done over night had brought any clues to light. Her cure was worthless, unable to do anything but kill her.




All Things to All People Ch. 06



As she read, she had let one Halls end without replacing it. She was aware of becoming lightly aroused at the idea of being naked, on her knees, at Dave's feet, but it was jot overpowering. There was another sense as well. Incredible loneliness. Someone here was so lonely that it was killing them. She looked around. This was an isolation lab. The only people here were Cynthia and Dave. Nothing else was in the room except the experiments themselves. The loneliness was growing, becoming smothering. She looked around again. She, Dave, the mice and the chemicals were the only things here.

Then a light dawned. "Could it be?" she thought to herself. She left the lab and went to the lady's room, avoiding taking another cough drop. Two other women were there. Pretending to go, she inhaled deeply, picking up the aromas in the room. She became aware of the women in the stall next to her. She wanted to taste cock in her mouth, to feel the warm splash of cum across her tongue. The woman at the sink wanted a head between her legs, licking her pussy. She didn't care whose, male or female. As the urge to satisfy the woman grew, Cynthia hurriedly popped another Halls.

"Now that's inconvenient. Now I'm picking up on women as well. But, not only women, but I think I'm picking up on the mice too. Hmmmm. Dave's notes indicate that he primed each of the mice to be sensitive to alpha's scent. Maybe..." Her thoughts turned to hope, not a strong one, but a hope.

She finished her pretend business and returned to the lab. The last test subject was still alive, barely. She took alpha and placed her in the same cage as the survivor. The effect was almost instantaneous. He perked up, nuzzling alpha, being an attentive little husband rat. Low to herself, she muttered, "They were dying of loneliness. They can't live without her. It does work, but whoever I key myself to will be for life. Who do I want to spend the rest of my life with?" She looked at Dave, sleeping where his desperate search for her cure had left him. She spun on her heels and headed out, determination on her face.

In her apartment, she saw that nothing had been cleaned since she had left to die three days ago. Swabbing the chain lock and packing the q-tip in a sandwich bag, she returned to the lab. Dave was still asleep. Taking the notes for the Menthe process, she went to another lab. She didn't want Dave to stop her. She had the same level of skill that Jarvis had, it had simply taken her three times as long to get it than the prodigy. She had the formula six hours later. She checked and saw that Dave had since woken and left, probably to go home.

Returning home, she locked her door and pondered what she was about to do. She knew that there was no going back from this. Once done, she would have to live the life she chose for the rest of her life. To not do so would be to die of loneliness, just as the mice had. Still, her choices seemed to be that she could be all things for all people or all things for one person. She liked the one person odds better. Uncapping the volatile mixture, she placed in on her bed stand, lay down next to it and went to sleep, breathing the fumes in over the course of the night.

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

One last sleep, one last change. The viral agent spent the next twelve hours, before it self destructed, releasing the hormonal combination into her body. Her sense of smell repaired the damage from the cocaine and strengthened even more. It gained the ability to identify specific genetic strains and locked onto one in particular. Her neural chemistry began to treat the DNA combination in question as a nutrient, something needed for survival. She would be unable to spend more than a day without it before cellular degeneration started. Eventually, she would discover that the collapse would become dangerous after three days. She would decide that she could live with that.

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

When she woke the next morning, she knew, without knowing how, that the compound had worked. Only one man would turn her into his dream lover, and she was pleased with that result. Dressing quickly, she left without eating, knowing where she would find this man, the most important man in her life. There he was, in the lab. By habit, she had been taking cough drops, but they were unnecessary. She walked over to him, a light spring in her step.

"Hi Dave. How are you this morning."

"Cynthia, I'm so sorry. The cure, it killed all the rats except one. There's no way we can use it on you, it's just too dangerous."

"Dave, that's not important right now. Come on, I'll buy you breakfast."

Dave was pleased, but confused, at her happy demeanor and let her buy him breakfast. He had not eaten since discovering the mice dead and was suddenly hungry, now that someone mentioned food. Taking a back corner table at Denny's, they ate in silence. Once done, Cynthia said, "Dave, I've got some good news."

"Good news, that would be nice."

"The cure works, just like it's supposed to."

"What? I told you, the mice died."

"Yes, they died of loneliness."

"Cynthia, what's gotten into you?"

"Dave, listen carefully. When I was in the slave house, one of the customers gave me cocaine. It seems to have acted to broaden my nose's sensitivity. I was able to tell what women wanted in sex, not just men. And, I could smell the mice as well. The male's were dying of loneliness, pining away for the mouse of their nasal dreams, alpha."

"What? I never told you about alpha."

"Shhh. Listen. I came by after you fell asleep. When I put alpha in the cage with the last male, he recovered. Dave, the cure works, I can prime myself for a single person. I'll just have to be with that person for the rest of my life."

"You had better be careful who you pick. You will be truly mating for life, but only one way."

"I've already chosen. I choose you Dave."

"Cynthia! No. I told you, my desires are out there. Unless you can choose willingly and out of love, I won't have it."

"Dave, only one person has known everything this poison has done to me. Only one person has stood by me no matter what decisions I've made. You didn't judge me or turn away from me when I threw myself at the frat house, no once but twice. You came to rescue me twice from prostitution. You didn't throw me away from you because I was no longer a 'good girl'." She held a finger up to forestall his interruption. "You cared for me when I stopped caring. You never stopped believing in me. Most important, you've treated me with respect and kindness the whole time, never once taking advantage of me and my willingness to be whatever you wanted. Where I come from, that's love, love of the highest degree. I cannot help but return that love. It may not be the kind of love you are looking for right now, but it will be, just give it time."

"Cynthia, do you realize what you're asking? The woman who submits to me will be asked to do things that she may not understand or like. She will be asked to put my pleasure above her own at all times. She will have to be all things to me. That's what I want. If you can't give me this, don't ask me to take you."

"Dave. I made a conscious choice to become all things for you instead of all things for all people. I know what my condition will cause. Whatever your desire of the moment is, I will understand it and fulfill it. I will have no choice. But in reality, I do have a choice, I've simply already made it. I was able to make it because I trust that you will accord me the same love and respect in the future that you've shown me these last three weeks. It's who you are. And your submissive woman is who I now am."

"Wait. You mean?"

"Yes, I've already taken the cure, with your DNA. As soon as this last cough drop is gone, Cynthia the independent woman will become Cynthia, Dave's loyal submissive. And, I look forward to it, because I know you love me and I love you. Will you have me?"

"Cynthia," seeing her swallow the cough drop. "If I didn't push you away when you were a whore to other men, I'm not going to turn you away when you're mine. Since you will be needing daily doses of me, we should move you in with me. Let's take care of that right now."

"Yes, Master, I'd love to do that."

The End

I want to thank all my readers for their kind comments and encouragement. They've been a blessing. I'm going to take the next couple of weeks and complete my Valerie series in the BSDM area. Once that is done, I'll be starting three new series, again, one scifi, one mind control and one BSDM. I have ideas percolating and have tentative titles of "Virtual Sexuality" in scifi, "Blind Leading the Blind" in BSDM and "Contagion" here in mind control. I hope you enjoy those as much as you enjoyed these first three. It does a first time writer's heart good to know that his first efforts are well received. Thank you once again for your comments, and remember, I want the criticisms as well as the compliments. The latter encourage me and the former improve me. 




All Things to All People



"Just a day or so, sir. I'll have to reformulate my latest batch and refilter. I'll have someone in the biology department draw some blood and run a mass spectrometer on it. Any concentrations large enough to be harmful will show up."

As she was speaking, she found herself noticing just how sexy the 56 year old scientist was. He had the broad shoulders of an athlete and the piercing eyes of a genius. She wondered how energetic he was in bed and whether he was open to sexual exploration. "God Cynthia!" she thought to herself, "get your mind out of the gutter. Not only is he married, he's your advisor and old enough to be your father. Is this the normal effect of a wild night of sex?"

The ventilation purge finished in less than five minutes, letting Cynthia inside. She went to Philmore's cage and looked at his body. Something did not look right (beyond his being dead), but she could not put her finger on it. She decided that she needed to have a necropsy performed to determine the exact cause of death. Knowing just what escaped from the filtration system would also be useful. Donning sterile gloves, she moved the rat's body into a biohazard bag. She would take it to biology when she went to have her blood tested.

Changing sterile gloves, she scraped the precipitate into a collection dish for analysis. She could see the small hole as she was scraping. It was not surprising that it had gone unnoticed, as small as it was. In fact, she could not see the hole itself, just a small discoloration around it. She marked both the bag and the disk, put the disk in a locked cabinet and proceeded to dispose of the entire filtration assembly. "Can't take a chance of another leak in any of the other parts." She thought to herself. "I certainly don't want to contaminate the lab a second time."

She left instructions for one of the lab techs to set up a new filtration system and took the biohazard bag upstairs to the biology department. As luck would have it, Dave was there, and she went right to him with her requests.

"Hi Dave. I have a couple of favors to ask."

"Oh, hello Cynthia. Is this concerning the contamination alarm earlier?"

"Yes. My experiment developed a leak overnight and possibly flooded the lab with potassium chlorinate. Our pet, Philmore died. Can you do a necropsy on him and determine the cause of death?"

"I would have thought that that would be obvious. There was a poison leak, he was poisoned."

"You would think, but something feels wrong. Potassium chlorinate deaths should take longer. He was dead within hours."

Looking in the bag, Reston saw the body, intact and in rigor. "I see what you mean. It's a good thing he did die so soon, you might have walked into the poison yourself. I'll have Gwen start it right away. She needs another couple to meet her degree requirements." Gwen Stimpson was working on a masters in veterinary science with an emphasis on environmental crime. The degree required performing 12 necropsies, at least three of which were under unknown or suspicious circumstances. She would leap at the chance for a 'strange death'.

"Thanks. For my second favor. There is an outside chance that I may have had a low level of exposure. Dr. Grange wants blood tests done to rule out any problems. It's possible the leak started before I had left, though I doubt it. I'm thinking mass spectrometer?"

"For that, I will decline to pass the buck. Step right over here and I'll draw a sample." Dave, while not a med student, had worked as an assistant in a blood bank for several years and was quite adept at drawing blood. With a practiced hand, he raised a vein in her arm and drew a small sample vial of blood.

Cynthia felt shivers run through her when he touched her arm. "Oh God. His touch is so erotic. I wonder if he's still dating Debbie? I'd love to get his hands, among other parts, running over the rest of me." As the needle stuck her, she felt a pulsing through her body, much like a wave of arousal. She could actually feel her nipples hardening. She felt moist between her legs. A low moan escaped her lips.

"You okay, Cynthia?"

Coming to her senses, "Yeah. Sorry. Long night."

Her strange thought life continued. "I wonder how that rubber tube would feel wrapped around my wrists? Good grief! Where did that thought come from?" Cynthia had run into the odd bondage site on the web before and felt nothing but disgust for the activity. That she would have such a thought pass through her head was appalling.

"There. One blood sample on its way to analysis. We'll do a mass spec and have the clinic do a full medical scan on it. We'll tell them it's part of a control for an experiment and charge the cost to the department."

"Thanks Dave. You let me know the results as soon as possible?"

"Sure thing. Take care now."

When she got back down to the chemistry department, the lab tech was setting up the new filtration system. Knowing that the calibration would take him most of the day, she puttered around with some of the initial preparations for the new run. Beyond a certain point, she could not progress. The last steps required the filtration system to be working. 

Putting the prepared chemicals in her hood, she retrieved the scrapings and began an analysis of them. She started with a mass spec. Carefully preparing the sample for the machine, she took it upstairs to the shared lab and put it into the queue. The sign said an estimated time of 1 day, so she figured she should bag the day and go home. No experiment to run, no results for a day, sounds like a day, or half day, off.

Stopping by the office, she let the secretary know she was heading home. Looking up expectantly, June asked, "Don't you live a couple of blocks from the Sigma Delta Phi house?"

"Yes, three blocks to be exact."

"The fraternity volunteered in an experiment of Dr. Grossman's last month. Several of them forgot to sign the privacy releases. We need them by day after tomorrow. Can you run them over to the house and get some signatures?"

"Sure. I've been there a couple of times. Rob is part of the frat. I can get the signatures and bring them back tomorrow."

"Thank a lot Cynthia. Campus mail is too slow and I'm not going to be able to get out of the office it seems."

Cynthia grabbed the envelope and headed out towards her apartment. She would pass the frat house on the way, pop in and get the needed signatures and then had back home. She only dreaded one thing. She would likely see Rob there and had no idea what to say to him. She had obviously enjoyed herself last night, but not intentionally. How could she explain that she did not want to repeat the experience, that she had not really wanted it to happen at all.

Wrapped up in her active thoughts, she did not notice her unconscious thought life on the way back. Every guy she passed seemed like the greatest gift to woman kind, until the next guy came by. Her imagination went into high gear, conjuring pictures of her and men engaging in wild sex. Each guy seemed to evoke a different mental encounter. One guy would provoke thoughts of oral sex, her taking him deep into her mouth and reveling in the taste of his cum. Another would start her thinking about being taken doggie style. Yet a third might move her thoughts to hard anal sex, with the only lube being her own pussy juices. 

By the time she realized what she was thinking, she stood in the middle of the university plaza, conscious of having walked back and forth across it, following one guy and then another, for almost a half hour. "What in the hell is going on?" she thought to herself. "I've been following, checking out and fantasizing about every guy I've passed. I really need to get home" She was also aware that she was becoming aroused. She could feel moistness between her legs and knew it was not the heat. "I'm definitely horny. Concentrate, Cynthia, concentrate."

Focusing her thoughts on what she needed to do, she plowed a path across the plaza towards the frat house. As she closed to within 100 feet, she felt a little trepidation. She could not place it, but something was telling her to keep going, don't go in. "I have to. These forms have to be signed. Otherwise, the entire experiment will have to be redone."

Taking a deep breath, she walked up the sidewalk and into the frat house. The lower level of the Sigma Delta house was in a constant state of open house, where the public could walk in or out at will. It was supposed to promote community trust and awareness. As she crossed the threshold Cynthia was acutely aware of the presence of virile young male bodies, bodies she felt attracted to. Standing in the front hall, her senses reeling a bit, she half closed her eyes and moaned under her breath. This was a nice place. Why didn't she come here more often?

"Hi Cynthia. Do you need to see Rod?" asked one young man, a pledge she thought.

"Uh... No, I brought some forms over for some signatures. Several of the volunteers last month forgot to... uh... sign them."

"Are you all right? You look... strange."

She started to say, "Nothings wrong that your cock down my throat won't fix." Catching herself, she merely said, "No, I'm fine. Can you get these signed by tonight. I need to pick them up on the way in tomorrow."

"Sure. I'll track everyone down and get them to sign. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow."

Handing the envelope to the pledge, she turned to leave, and didn't. She stood rooted to the spot. "I can't leave. I need to leave, something weird is going on. But I haven't met everyone. I can feel them calling me. My God! I want to fuck every one of them. I need to get out of here. It was a mistake to come here." Her thoughts warred, leaving her standing in the entrance way, still close to a dozen or more young men.

"Cynthia!" Rob's call startled her out of her thoughts. "I wanted a chance to talk. About last night. Can we talk?"

Part of her wanted to ask that he take her home. Part of her wanted to jump his bones right there. In the totally even tug of war, she stood staring at him, not responding.

"Are you okay? Here, come over and sit down. You don't look okay."

He led her into the main living room. As she moved deeper into the house, the part that wanted to leave weakened. She leaned up against Rob, rubbing his shoulders and chest, moaning all the while. Rob looked at her curiously. "It's happening again," he thought, "she's coming onto me out of the blue. It's like she's on something. I need to get her home. If I find out who did this to her, they're dead meat!"

"Cynthia, you wait here, don't go anywhere. I'm going to get my shoes and we'll go to your apartment." Rob knew he couldn't walk far in the slippers he wore around the house. He literally ran up the stairs to get his shoes. He wasn't gone for more that two minutes, but that was too long.

As soon as Rob left, Cynthia keyed on another pair of brothers, playing a video game. She walked over to them, her mind picturing herself sandwiched between them, impaled in both her cunt and ass. "Hi guys," she greeted in a sluty voice. "Do you want to party?" In the back of her mind, a slowly weakening voice was screaming "Help! This is not me! Rob! Get me out of here!" No one heard it.

The two guys, Steve and Mark looked up and saw a woman, nipples poking through her shirt, smelling of imminent sex. There was no doubt what kind of party she wanted. "Sure!" "Our room or yours?"

"Your room is so much closer. I don't know if I can wait."

Taking her by the hand, the two led her upstairs, into the closer of their two rooms. As the door closed, Rob came out of his room, raced down stairs and saw that his girlfriend was gone. Assuming she had wandered off, he left in a panic to look for her before she did something she regretted. He would later kick himself for not thinking of the other alternative.

In Mark's room, Cynthia was wrapped around Steve, devouring his mouth for all she was worth. Mark had pulled her pants down, letting her deftly step out of them. He began to caress her legs and ass, drawing moans from her. He could see that her panties were already soaked, her aroma filling the air. As mark caressed her ass, she thrust herself against his hands, silently demanding more.

Steve, locked in a passionate open mouth kiss, was reaching under her shirt, fondling her breasts through the bra she had on. Her moans and cries encouraged him and he increased the pressure. When she asked "Please, pinch them, I need you to pinch them." He thought to himself, "Oh! The girl of my dreams." He pulled the bra down, exposing her tits to his hands and grasping her nipples, pinched hard. He thought she was going to have an orgasm right then and there, the way she reacted.

"Harder, pinch them harder, make them hurt."

Steve could not believe his luck. A girl wanders in, wants to party with him and his best bud and she likes exactly what he loves, tit torture. He pinched harder, being rewarded with cried of pleasure and pain mixed together. He pushed her away enough to pull her shirt over her head and off, out of the way at last. With her bra, already out of the way, he bent his head to her breasts and began to nibble on them, biting with enough force to feel his teeth through them, leaving visible bite marks.

Mark was ecstatic to see her turn her head and ask, "My ass, will you play with my ass." The ass man knelt behind her and, pulling her cheeks apart, wet her bung hole with generous tongue action and spit. Once enough improvised lubricant was there, he poked at her with a finger. She thrust back, impaling the finger he had been gently probing with. "More, give me more." Mark obliged, sticking two fingers in, all the way up to the third knuckle. As he wiggled his fingers inside her, he could feel her clench against them.

"I've got to fuck this ass." He thought to himself, "She has just what I like, a tight responsive asshole, begging to get fucked."

He had hardly finished the thought when she cried out, "Fuck me! Fuck my ass! Fuck my cunt!

Cynthia truly wanted it. She had never been ass fucked before, but she knew she had to have this, along with a simultaneous pussy fucking. It was like she would die if these guys would not take her the way she needed. She was just glad that they seemed to like what she needed.

The guys, not one to disappoint a girl, stood her between then and plunged their steel hard cocks into her holes. She screamed in response, crying out, "Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!" As the thrust in and out of her, she would clench against them, trying to hold them in. The two cocks soon found a rhythm, plunging in together, squishing Cynthia's writhing form between them. Her cries grew in volume as she neared her first orgasm. 

When it hit, she shuddered, staying up only because there was nowhere to fall. The contractions in her ass and cunt drove both Mark and Steve to greater heights of pleasure. Steve lost it, cumming in her pussy with one final shove. Mark, more experienced, held out for a greater thrill and stayed hard, thrusting into her again and again. As Steve stepped back to recover, Mark reached around and fondled her pussy and clit, now slick with a mix of Steve's cum and her natural lube.

Fighting his climax for as long as possible, her brought Cynthia to a second orgasm whose contractions sent him over the edge, pulling a growl from him as he thrust one last time, spilling seed into her bowels. As he pulled out and fell back on the bed, he saw that the door was open and two other brothers were watching wide eyed and openmouthed.

Cynthia had fallen to her hands and knees, basking in the after glow of two orgasms. She slowly became aware of two more boys nearby. Turning, she licked her lips, feeling an intense desire to take these cocks into her mouth and suck them for all they were worth. She crawled over to them, saying, "Come on boys. I'm hungry. Do you have anything I might be able to suck on until cock-tails are served?"

Surprised, but not stupid, the two stepped in, opening the pants enough to release the cocks that had stiffened in response to the unintentional show. The pledge deferred to the senior, allowing him to go first. He stepped up and grasped the cum leaking girl's head, thrusting his cock into her mouth. He was rewarded by muffled sounds of ecstatic pleasure. "She loves it." He though, "she wants me to fuck her face hard and fast."

He obliged her, pounding into her mouth again and again. The only complaint she had was when he stopped to let her breathe, causing her to grab him and thrust his cock back into her mouth. She had one hand down between her legs, frigging herself. So turned on by this girl that wanted just what he liked to give, her didn't last long. 

When Cynthia felt the first pulse in his prick, she pulled out until his tip was the only thing in her mouth. As he grunted and blew his load, she moaned in pleasure at the taste of his warm spunk rolling on her tongue, sliding down her throat as she swallowed and swallowed. As he slowed his output, she grasped his cock and milked every last drop she could. Only then did she pull him out with a 'pop' and "ahhhh" followed by smacking lips.

Turning towards the pledge, she eyed him hungrily, "Your turn." She took long slow licks of his cock, stopping just short of the head. She thrilled at the sight of the penis jerking back and forth with every stroke of her tongue. When precum began to ooze, she rubbed it across her face, leaving a trail of the slick fluid on her cheek. Again and again, she teased precum out so that she could smear more of her face with the wondrous fluid.

Unable to resist anymore, Cynthia took his member into her mouth, rolling her tongue across the head as it entered. Slowly she bobbed on his cock as he stood there transfixed in blissful pleasure. He was wishing he could find the courage to tell her to take his cum on her face when she said, "I need you all over me. Paint me with your cum, make a mess all over me." He could not believe his luck, his wildest fantasy being fulfilled. Just hearing her ask sent him over the edge. He pulled out, letting her hands guide his cock as it spewed five days of saved up cum all over her face, dripping down onto her chest. As he spurt all over her face, she came herself, crying out at the top of her voice. Again, she milked the cock in her hands for every last drop of cum, wiping it dry against her breasts.

By now, the entire frat knew that there was a wanton slut on the second floor satisfying fantasies for anyone who showed up. A line had formed. A few, seeing it was Rob's girlfriend, chose to stay back and not participate. Most though, wanted a piece of something that they believed only existed in copies of Penthouse Letters. As they lined up, Cynthia's desires took on a life of their own. She seemed incapable of being satisfied with only one person now. She reached out and dragged in three more guys, all with cocks over 10 inches, getting them to fill all three holes at once. 

Sitting on one cock, she begged the second guy to plunge into her ass with his 12 inch monster. When he did, he found that she while she was well lubed with earlier semen, it still was a chore to get in at first. Once he was in, he lived his dream of sodomizing a willing woman with his giant cock. The third guy needed no encouragement to force his way past her lips, thrusting all the way back in her throat and holding it. He marveled that she held him there, caressing his dick with her tongue and not gasping.

The guy fucking her ass was pounding her so hard that she was being lifted almost totally off the cock in her pussy, collapsing back on it with each backstroke. She used her hands to squeeze the balls of the guy lodged in her throat. The assault on her body lifted her over the edge for the fourth time, as another orgasm wracked her body. The shudders sent two of the guys into their own climaxes, filling her pussy with its second load and covering her face with a new coating of cum.




All Things to All People



The guy in her ass, continued to pound into her brutally. He was on the verge of cumming when a voice called out, full of anger, "What the hell are you assholes doing! Get away from my girl you degenerates!" Rod was back, having intercepted a message about a hot slut at the frat house giving everyone whatever they wanted. 

Most of the guys backed away, seeing furious rage in his eyes, not wanting to cross the university boxing champ. Steve, back in line for a second go, complained, "Get a grip Rob. We're not raping her. She came onto us."

Rob grabbed him by his shirt and rammed him into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster. "You freak! This is not her. Someone's slipped her something. Some dead mother fucker slipped my girlfriend a sexual mickey and you lowlifes took advantage of her. Get out! Get out of my sight!"

The room cleared like a tornado hit it. It seemed that everyone suddenly remembered some vital homework assignment that had to be done. When the first wave of anger hit the room, that wanton part of Cynthia withered and shank away, allowing the rational part to surface. Overwhelmed by the memories of what she had done, she collapsed to the floor in tears. When Rob reached out to comfort her, she pulled away, unable to face the boyfriend she had betrayed so badly.

"Cynthia. Please, it's not your fault. Someone did something to you. Let me help. We can get through this."

Between sobs, Cynthia, shaking her head, said, "But... you don't understand... they're right. I asked for all of this. I knew it was wrong, but I still came on to them, even begged them to fuck me. How can you even look at me after what I've done?"

"Because I know the real Cynthia. The real Cynthia would never do this. Someone has done something to you, slipped you some kind of drug that has destroyed your ability to say no. We'll figure it out and get through it. I just wish I had seen it last night. I feel like I took advantage of you."

"Don't. That's the one part of the last 24 hours I don't regret. It may not be the time I intended, but I've wanted you for months. I just needed to come to terms with my doubts."

"We need to get you out of here before whatever is in you starts working on you again."

He helped her get dressed, wrapped her in a blanket and led her to his car. Neither felt that showering at the frat house was a good idea. Too many horny guys. Rod was especially worried about the blood he thought he saw around her ass. The cock that was in her butt was massive. He had a hard time believing that it had fit in. The blood told him that perhaps it hadn't. He stayed at her apartment long enough to ensure that she got cleaned up okay, then he left, kissing her lightly on the cheek. Until they found out what had happened and fixed it, any sex with her would feel like rape.

From the time Rob had suggested that she had been drugged, a suspicion had been forming in her mind. The lab accident. Her sudden need to be fucked when around men. The hormone that provoked heat in rats out of season. Had she actually been contaminated? If the hormone was somehow locked inside her, she might be chemically forced to be a slut, for the lack of a better word. She certainly felt like one. What was confusing, assuming her theory was correct, was why she wanted such different types of sex with each guy. What was she missing?

Realizing she needed answers fast, she called Dave in biology. "Dave, This is Cynthia."

"Hi Cynthia. The tests aren't done yet."

"Uh... is there any way to speed them up? I'm feeling a little unwell... and I want to be absolutely sure it's not the accident."

"My God Cynthia! Have you been to the clinic?"

"No. I don't want to go there until I know for sure about the accident. If it is potassium chlorinate, they won't be able to do anything anyway. If it's just a cold, going to the clinic would be a waste."

"Okay, I see. I'll get a rush on it . Gwen is doing the necropsy now. She said to thank you for the mystery. I'll let her know that it might be more important that a simple test."

"Thanks. Oh, I sent a sample to mass spec as well. Could you see that it gets rushed as well? It's the precipitate on the filtration system. We might want to have a comparison."

"I'll see to it. You stay at home and I'll call you with the results as soon as they're in."

As she hung up the phone, she realized that she was exhausted. "No wonder," she thought, "I've just had two hours of hard core sex and cum four times. I certainly don't want to go out. All I need is to run into some guy and lose control again." She laid out on the couch, napping and waiting for Dave to tell her that her fears were unfounded.

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

As she dozed, more brain cells died and more cells were energized. By the time she would awaken, half the cells in that portion of her frontal lobe would be dead. The part of her that they controlled would permanently weakened and on its way to dying completely. Her medulla was energizing and organizing more. The senses that this part controlled would reach an almost supernatural strength by the time she woke up, but for only one purpose. She would not be conscious of the insights she would gain, but those insights would shape and mold her in ways no one could anticipate.

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

The phone woke her up. She vaguely recalled some sort of dream, but cold not place it. On the third ring, she answered. "Hello."

"Cynthia, this is Dave. You need to get to the hospital as soon as possible."

"Dave. Slow down. What did you find?" She saw on the clock that is was 10 PM When Dave rushes, he really rushes.

"Your rat. It died of exhaustion. As near as Gwen can tell, it masturbated itself against the cage until it died. A strange chemical compound was in its blood and brain. The compound contained potassium chlorinate! I found the same compound in your blood. What's more, the rat's brain had signs of damage. Part of its brain had withered and died, part of its frontal lobe. But part of its medulla was still electrically charged, hours after it was dead. This chemical is in your blood and may be affecting your brain. We need to get a CT scan on you and we don't have one of those in the department."

"Dave, I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Good God, Cynthia, why the hell not?"

"It's hard to explain. But suffice it to say, my going out in public is a bad idea."

"What's going on? You need help and we can't give it if we don't know what the problem is."

Dave was the best platonic friend she had. If she could not trust him, there was no one she cold trust. "I... I think I'm losing the ability to say no to sex. Every man I've been near since last night has sent my thought whirling into sexual fantasies. I ravished rob last night. This afternoon, I came on to his entire frat, because I wanted to, even when I didn't want to. I couldn't seem to work up the will power to say no."

"Oh My God. So you think if you go out, to the hospital, for example, you'll be overwhelmed and lose control again."

"Yes. It seems that it only happens with men and only when I'm near them."

"Do the guys seem to lose control."

"Dave, guys always lose control when a sexy woman throws herself at them. But I don't think it was abnormal. Dave has wanted to go all the way for some time. Frat guys are sex freaks, for the most part."

"So, I would have a choice if you came onto me?"

"I suppose so. What are you planning?"

"Let's just call it a commando raid on the vet school. They have a CT scanner. It will do. I know a girl there who owes me a favor and can operate it. I'll pick you up in three hours."

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea."

"It's not, but it's the best idea we've got. I'm not letting you say no. You either come to get the scan, or you can suffer with an unwilling man nearby for hours on end."

"Dave, only a true friend could make such a threat. I'll be ready."

Hanging up, Cynthia was frightened. She was changing and it might not be possible to undo the damage. If she stayed the way she was or got worse, how would she live, wanting sex with every man she encountered even briefly, wanting it so bad that she threw herself at them, giving them their every desire. "Please God, don't let this be permanent." She prayed out loud.

To be continued...