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The Curator Ch. 01

By: neglected2much



Chapter 01: The Curator's New Position

Sue quickly questioned her career choice. Archaeology was a lot more Joe Accountant than Indiana Jones. After finishing her degree, she went straight to field assignments figuring that was where to find the action. When some of her finds appeared in archaeology journals credited to the dig leader she knew it would be a long hard road establishing a reputation of her own. The glass ceiling could even be found in remote locations, and a whole culture of entitlement and "putting your dues in" existed. No matter what her contribution, she was always told that she didn't see the big picture and needed more experience. There was little respect for new people, new ideas and women in general on field expeditions.

Practical matters were even worse. She found herself the only female in remote locations with lots of leering men, far from home, girlfriends and wives. She didn't consider herself good looking and took regular inventory of her faults in the mirror: could stand to lose a few pounds; was barely B cup; flat ass; narrow hips; bad nose and even worse vision. Contact lenses gave her problems, so she was forced to wear extra thick dorky glasses for her astigmatism and was very self conscious about them. On location in the field, she felt nothing but all the men's eyes roaming over her and tallying up her faults while still thinking, "I'd do her anyway." The boredom of remote sites brought out the worst in people. She was soon on a plane home.

Out of work and struggling without the requisite recommendations for the best jobs, she figured out how to work the system as a matter of survival nonetheless. Government grants could open doors, and finding a neglected area of study that could justify funding created jobs. The big machine would turn its wheels if you pushed the right buttons.

A large cache of artifacts was discovered almost 80 years ago. They were associated with a forgotten people called the Nuymeans (she never found the origin of the name). The artifacts ended up in several museums, but most of them went to the gigantic National Museum where they were promptly filed away and largely forgotten despite the efforts of one extraordinary woman.

Dr. Maggie Barnes studied them for most of her life and arranged the current collection, but little else was ever found. The area of rainforest where they came from was burnt and bulldozed less than a decade after the discovery without a second thought of the archaeological value. They grow sugar cane and marijuana there now. For the over 20 years since Dr. Barnes death, little funding or interest was devoted to Nuymean research in academia. To Sue, it was like someone decided Gobekli Tepe or Leptis Magna was a waste of time and stuck an oil well in the middle. 

Paperwork approved, a door opened for her. The National Museum was soon paying peanuts for an Assistant Junior Curator. It was a job regardless, and she got to keep her apartment. Hopefully she could turn it into a stepping stone to something better. She had a modest basement office with an old hand-me-down computer. Career choices aside, the Nuymeans seriously intrigued her, and she felt a bit of an obsessive compulsion to find out more about them. They had completely different notions of sex and culture. More importantly, they had strangely advanced technology for an ancient people in the rain forest. As near as she could tell they had complete mastery over the problems associated with uninhibited sexuality including over-developed morality, pregnancy and disease. Sexuality permeated everything Nuymean.

The craftsmanship of the artifacts was very out of place in the timeframe for which they were dated--well before the renaissance. In fact, some of their abilities with materials such as stone, metal and rubber were arguably ahead of modern technology. Several alien hunter groups were convinced the Nuymean were, or had contact with, extra-terrestrials. She easily could see how some of the conspiracies would not take much exaggeration.

Sue quickly found why academia avoided the Nuymeans for two decades. Much like any reputable scientist would not be caught dead on a Bigfoot expedition, association with Nuymeans was considered pure career suicide if not sexually deviant. She may have ruined her career chances and would probably be considered some kind of pervert by some of her conservative colleagues.

The other problem with the Nuymeans was the science itself. They largely left behind artifacts of metal and stone. These types of items did not provide a lot of information. To most archaeologists the worst thing to find was gold. It could not be dated and interested thieves in their work while yielding few facts.

All of the Nuymean metal artifacts in the museum's collection were made of a metal alloy Dr. Barnes christened 'lusterite.' It looks like gold but is nearly indestructible and never tarnishes. When first publicized, the military had even confiscated some of the artifacts trying to uncover how they were made. She had the complete classified report from 3 years of testing courtesy of Dr. Barnes skills in acquisition. Lusterite was immune to grinding, acid, denting and almost all forms of damage attempted. Even a diamond blade could not cut through it. Analysis showed it had an austenitic face-centered cubic crystalline structure like an aerospace superalloy, but it still had an unusually high atomic packing factor so was exceedingly dense. Lusterite could be melted at a lower temperature than should be possible, conducted electricity and was a lot heavier than it looked--even if it had been real gold. They believed the Nuymeans were able to use the low melting point to construct the items, but they were unsuccessful in creating their own and equally unable to admit the Nuymeans had a superior technology.

At first she was just relieved to have a job and happy to put the National Museum on her resume, but now Sue had second thoughts. Most of her work involved answering a stream of the same suggestive questions from wide-eyed patrons and conducting tours of the museum "Nuymean Room." The exhibit was somewhat popular, and the museum just wanted a pretense of science for their ticket buying tourists. She feared she would jump out a window the next time she had to show a drooling busload of high school age adolescent boys the case full of golden phalluses and dildos or see the giggling smirks of a foreign tourist while they took endless pictures of her holding up one of the items. The internet was probably full of cleverly captioned pictures of her smiling while holding a golden dick. The teasing and snide comments were even more annoying when it came to the golden bras and panties...no, the bra was not her size; yes, the panties were all thongs. The girls would seem embarrassed and intrigued at the same time while blushing and secretly juicing in their panties.

The artifacts were incredible works of art regardless. She totally appreciated the detail involved in making them. The phalluses came in all shapes and sizes complete with skin texture and veins. Each one was unique, yet they all had exactly the same base which could be mounted into other artifacts.

The bras and panties were made of a combination of solid metal pieces mixed with woven metal fabric. The fabric was made with nearly invisible links interwoven like microscopic chainmail. The woven metal was so minutely fine that it still looked like solid metal to the casual eye. Aside from the basic construction, each set of panties and bras were engraved with detailed artwork. Most were of large cats, tropical birds and other similar exotic creatures found in the rain forest. Lusterite construction aside, no one had the slightest idea how the Nuymeans formed the weave or did the engraving, and no modern technology could duplicate it. Alien hunters were fond of citing the metal artifacts as proof of extraterrestrial origins.

As if just to add to her stress, the museum director was pressuring Sue to produce some kind of publication. They had to justify her position and maintain scientific appearances. It was also a condition of the government funding: a formal publication of findings in a recognized journal. She was hired on probation and knew her job was in the balance. Other gullible young academics could be found if she were fired. Other people could use the door she had opened. She suspected that the popularity of the Nuymean room, with its corresponding ticket sales, was the only reason they hired her to begin with. It was unseemly to have a popular exhibit without an in-house expert.

She still had no idea what she was going to write about. There were some written Nuymean works, but the language was cracked by Dr. Barnes long ago and would not be a suitable "discovery." The publication needed to reveal something new and revealing. Almost all written Nuymean works were instructions and recipe-like lists of things to do and how to do them. The detail was complex and meticulous. In many cases, there were also detailed diagrams. Intriguingly, most of them were about sexual practices. There were works showing how to size a dildo to a woman, the best sequence to whip a woman for escalating arousal, hundreds of bondage guides, guides on how to overcome a gag reflex, a guide to piercings over 500 pages alone and many more. Strangely, though, none of the works were ever about men. Why? It has to be an important clue about their culture. Truth be told, the artifacts intrigued her as much as they did the high school kids, but she could never let anyone know; she had to show a sense of academic detachment.

Little known to the public, only a small number or representative, carefully selected, items were on display in the Nuymean Room of the museum. In the basement, she had several more large rooms overflowing with tightly packed movable shelving, large crates and sturdy racks. A private side room was devoted to Dr. Barnes research records and items she had set aside for specific research, while yet another room was filled with jars full of liquids and solutions that she had carefully labeled with painstaking detail. So far, Sue had not found any records describing why Dr. Barnes had been so focused on them.

With the museum dust and climate control, everything was in place as if Dr. Barnes just left yesterday. Sue felt a little odd looking through the items. They were more like Dr. Barnes personal effects than museum property. Of course she had already studied all of the typed and filed research which made up the official record, but there were hundreds of additional notes, articles and academic papers--few of which were ever published. In addition, there were still a dozen untouched chests, file cabinets and drawers containing more research from a lifetime of study. Having never been published and predating the internet, it was all essentially unknown to the scientific community. Seldom had any publication been allowed with such sexual content, and little could be discussed about the Nuymeans without sexual content. The whole Nuymean topic was effectively blacklisted--even with a properly objective academic detachment. All of the attention from alien hunters made the situation even worse.

The side room had a stout steel door and as far as Sue knew, she had the only key. It gave her a place to conduct her own private "research." Her favorite artifact was similar to a chair, perhaps even a throne, carved into a huge block of smooth dark stone. It arrived as part of a recent acquisition about a year ago. A smaller museum that she had never heard of fell on tough times and donated their whole Nuymean collection to the National Museum. In fact, several other smaller museums had quietly donated their collections over the decades like they were trying to stash their embarrassment away. Artifacts were quietly shipped and quietly moved to the basement for years with no curator to even open the packing slips. Two storage rooms and part of another were waiting to be cataloged.

Sue had the chair uncrated and moved to this room for closer study. It appeared to be one of the most interesting of the new objects. The seat back was tilted like a recliner and specially angled in relation to the phallus mount point. Any of the phallic artifacts could be placed in the standardized squared hole, and it would hold fast. Large solid chair arms, perfect to hang onto, were placed closely on each side. With the huge stone base, there was no danger the chair would tip over. If a woman mounted the chair, her feet would hang off the ground by a least a foot even if she was over 7 feet tall. The seat angle was cleverly arranged to push her towards the phallus using her body weight as pressure. Any movement would cause her to slip further downwards, impaled deeper. The sides were contoured to guide and hold her hips in position.

The seating surfaces themselves were highly polished and smooth as glass. She could only guess what the original significance of the chair might have been and had always wondered if they strapped women onto chairs such as these for some test or ritual. Once she mounted the chair, she found it difficult to raise herself back off the phallus and was never willing to go all the way and put her full weight on it. The angle of her body versus the position of the arms of the chair did not allow for much leverage.

She tried the chair the same day it was moved. How could she not? Little did she suspect she would soon crave to use it. Her vibrator alone could not equal the intense sensations or powerful climaxes of the chair. The locked side room became a sanctuary for her guilty pleasures.

At home, one of her neighbors had found a hidden camera in her apartment. Rumor was her creepy landlord was a voyeur. After that, Sue never could feel comfortable in her own apartment thinking he might be watching. He had a key so it would be easy enough for him to secretly wire her place as well. As soon as her lease was up, she was moving. Masturbating at home was pretty much off-limits to her mentally. Eventually her desires would be strong enough to outweigh the guilt and fear of getting caught, so self-pleasure was a regular ritual at work now.

Her routine was to place a stout wooden storage crate at the foot of the chair when using it so that she did not need to hang on the phallus with her full body weight. She wasn't about to drive it inside with that kind of force. The crate was just high enough for her to use tip toes for support. Sue was convinced this was close to how the women who used the chair felt, but it still seemed safe. She felt fully penetrated despite being able use her legs to move and climb off when done.

She had followed the Nuymean guide to dildo sizing to the letter and knew immediately which phalluses would be uncomfortably large or too small to have the desired effect. The tiny symbols on each were one of her recent discoveries. Three separate symbols indicated length, girth and a rating for texture. She had tried a dozen or so different ones with a selection of about 6 favorites she kept separately, "highly polished," in a cabinet near the chair. No one would question a few more Nuymean artifacts in storage.

One phallus in particular had become her favorite by far. Something just felt completely right about it. It was just large enough that she could never quite get used to it, but it was not painful. Tiny nubs created the perfect amount of friction and sensation of texture. The Nuymean sizing guide rated it as "challenging." She always got a shiver up her spine inserting it. Her only complaint was that the heavy lusterite was cold and took a long time to warm up. It weighed in at 9.1 pounds. Doing the math, the lusterite was denser than gold and less dense than platinum, fairly close to the density of tungsten.

Sue also kept a sizeable variable speed vibrator and a long extension cord locked in her desk drawer. With the added vibration, she felt like the chair was thrusting up to meet her, but she knew that was impossible. She thought that somehow the chair had just the right combination of angles and positioning that she could feel her own heartbeat against the pressure of the phallus and vibrator. It was easy for her mind to run wild with fantasies when she was about ready to have the big O.

She made a huge breakthrough by convincing the museum board of trustees to let her do research at night. In the end, they would rather have her handling the erotic artifacts, especially when working in the Nuymean Room public display, well out of the public eye and understood her need to get away from the daily crowds to concentrate on her work. They approved an intern she found at a local college to do the daily tours. It wasn't long until she took advantage of the privacy and spent more and more time in the side room. She would give Charlie the night guard a smile and a wave and then disappear into her own basement world. Charlie seemed like he was 80 plus years old, moved slowly and didn't seem to hear too well, so she wasn't concerned about him being a problem.

Many nights, Charlie and Sue were the only people in the museum. She kept a large bottle of lubricant with a pump dispenser in the drawer next to the vibrator. Exciting though they were, her nighttime adventures were starting to become too routine. She thought she might eventually get caught, but she still felt an unexplainable compulsion to continue. She always felt better after using the chair. It was deeply satisfying while it cleared her mind and reduced stress so that she could focus on her work the rest of the night. She had a comforted feeling like she had actually accomplished something beyond the pleasure alone.

She thought about trying some of the other artifacts for variety. The golden lusterite bras and panties were of little interest. She found that they all were for large breasted women so would definitely not fit her. They all had the same D or double DD sized cups, depending on how she did the measurement. In fact, that was another of her discoveries. All the bras, both straps and cups, were the same size. She was never able to find any kind of clasp to close one. They had a T-shaped back like an athletic bra. They could be dropped down over the shoulders and closed at the sides, but the strap ends had no kind of hook, catch or attachment. They had perfectly smooth matching flat ends. The panties used the same kind of closures, if you could call them that, on the sides above the hip bone.

Unknown to the public there were also high-heeled shoes. They looked so much like modern high heels that the alien hunters would have a field day if they knew of them. They would have been completely impractical in the rain forest, so had some other unknown purpose. Every pair also had the same design with ankle straps that ended with the same bare ends that did not connect. Again, they were all the same size, about modern women's 8 with 5" inch heels. She was an 8 and a half and could squeeze into them, but they were so uncomfortable that she could only stand them for a short while. The material was another thicker style of the fine mesh metal fabric while the pointed toes were smooth and rounded solid metal. The soles were solid lusterite and heavy with some cross hatching for traction.

The shoes gave her an idea. She remembered reading an article about a new technique which was all the rage with young academics called "participant archaeology." Advocates insisted that you could only discover the truth about some artifacts by using them. They would have mock battles with ancient weapons. They would re-create ancient garments and wear them while performing tasks thought to be realistic. They even used ancient torture devices to judge their effectiveness. They were constantly discovering new ways to re-enact the past in context.


The Curator Ch. 01



Sue would change her routine up a little tonight and dabble in her own form of participant archaeology--not that she wasn't already participating rather well with the chair already. She might be able to come up with a publication from it all with some careful self-censorship. She grabbed a pair of the shoes, the big bottle of lube and carefully selected a phallus that was a full size larger than her usual favorite. The closest translation of its Nuymean guide rating was "difficult." She'd be more realistic and leave the vibrator in the drawer. Today, she wanted the added challenge of working for her orgasm. The previous times she used the chair seemed to reduce her inhibitions a little. Now she seemed to be craving to be in it constantly. She was feeling uncharacteristically impulsive today, and it was time to be less cautious. The new phallus was one she had never tried. It had a rougher texture, and she knew it would be a bit of a wild ride. This should help break her somewhat humdrum routine. She would also learn if the back thrusting was imagined or real. She could edit out the more intimate details of her experiment from her scientific account.

A large collection of gags was also among the artifacts. Again, they were kept out of the public eye. They were also kept secret from the military examiners as most were ball gags with a special rubber-like material. The rubber was still perfectly black and pliable with no signs of age, teeth marks or other wear despite being in the rainforest for centuries most likely. No doubt there was some military application. She always marveled at how modern people were so arrogant about how much more they knew than the ancients. Here was another example of something that the Nuymeans could do centuries earlier that defied modern understanding.

She had never used the gags and wasn't particularly excited by the idea. The isolated basement and the room's steel door seemed to be plenty of sound insulation. Besides, she also wasn't one of those women who made a lot of uncontrollable noise when she had the big O, but in keeping with changing things up, she grabbed a gag anyways. It would be something completely different. Perhaps they gagged the women when they used the chair? Most had the same plain-ended straps that didn't close, but there were a few that had buckles and clasps. She picked one that had a full head harness with a series of clasps. They were sort of like the clasps on a toolbox or steamer trunk and could be flipped closed over a lockable loop hasp. There was a large black ball for inside the mouth that was held in place by a mouth cover of the lusterite metal fabric. Several clasps along the side could lever the cover down tight over the ball. Looking at the gag more closely and thinking about it was unexpectedly getting her juices flowing even more, and she started to wonder why she hadn't tried it before this.

Sue locked the door from the inside and put her keys on a small table near the door. Her inhibitions were screaming at her to stop while her heart raced with the excitement ahead, and the thrill of doing something few would approve of even if it could technically be considered science. Those inhibitions were fading with record speed.

Stripping off everything, she carefully laid her panties out so that they would dry some by the time she was done. As always, the room felt cold in the climate control and she could feel her nipples hardening quickly. She pushed the phallus into the mount and heard the expected click as it locked in position. Now the only way to release it would be to press the catch on the front face of the chair underneath the mounting point. The catch was quite firm and it usually took her both thumbs to release. Clearly the Nuymeans didn't want it coming loose unexpectedly.

Next, she bent over and put on the shoes. She couldn't close the plain-ended straps, but knew that just the tight fit would keep them on. How some women could walk in these all day was a mystery. She had always avoided heels and was already having trouble just keeping her balance on the smooth stone tile.

She coated the phallus with a good two pumps of lube. It was dripping down the front of the chair some, but she knew from experience that it would clean off easily. Even though she was thoroughly wet already, she hated the feel of anything dry inside her so much that she wasn't willing to take any chances.

Next came the gag, she took a good look at the clasps and put the straps over her head. She had a large full length mirror in her office, but it was heavy and she didn't want to move it to the side room. She could close the clasps by feel and decided to go the extra mile so grabbed a set of small padlocks normally used on record cabinets and dropped the keys on the small table. Eventually she got the large rubber ball in place and worked the covering down tight. As each clasp closed, the ball was forced tighter into her mouth pinning her tongue down completely. The lusterite front panel had no give whatsoever. This would have to be a quick session or her jaw would be aching for days.

Working quickly in order not to lose her nerve, she clipped one of the small file cabinet locks in each of the clasps and clicked them all closed. She had all the keys on her ring. Her whole head felt like it was lightly but firmly fastened into a vice. The straps weren't going anywhere. She tried to talk to find that her pinned tongue and plugged mouth didn't block all sound, but intelligent speech was not possible.  The ball was just too big. She wouldn't have guessed how much the density of the lusterite blocked sound.

Now was the moment of truth, turning off the suspended electric heater she placed over the chair--strange how no one questioned it among the other items in the basement. The conservation department didn't seem to notice it was missing. She climbed up on her wooden crate and turned around face-up to slowly lower her body into place. The warm stone felt almost therapeutic and would stay warm for a long time.

She leaned back to get the proper angle and felt the head of the phallus press against her nether lips. The lube, both from her body and the dispenser bottle, was doing its job and the lusterite was slipping in smoothly. At first the colder metal was a shock, but it finally started to warm a little as she took her time. Continuing to slowly lower herself, she realized that the Nuymean guide was right on target about how difficult this phallus would be. Perhaps she was overly optimistic.  After a slight twinge of pain from the stretching, she pushed back up with her legs suddenly in an almost involuntary jerk so that she could dismount and get a smaller one.

During the abrupt movement, her right heel caught in the crack between two boards of the wooden crate. She desperately wretched the shoe back and forth trying to free it while balancing over the metal cock. It wasn't working. The shoe wasn't slipping off either. Slipping down and being penetrated deeper, she pushed with a surge of strength to rise up and pull free. In a fraction of second, her world changed; the crate flipped over and rolled out from under her feet. With the sudden loss of support, her left hand slid off the supporting arm. Her weight came down slightly crooked, with full force, and rammed the phallus deep as it would go all at once, her groin crushed to a stop against the narrow mount. The size of the cock and the freezing cold metal took her breath away, a breath that would have been a massive reactionary scream were it not for the effectiveness of the gag.

She hung suspended and dangling there, stuffed with metal, for several moments in throbbing pain and shock, suddenly out of breath. Whenever she tried to move, every twist or push translated five fold into her impaled sex. As the pain started to subside slightly and the phallus finally started to warm up, she gingerly tried to get her arms back under her to push up off the chair, but could find no support. To her horror, the arms were no longer there. It seemed like they folded down into the chair somehow. She had nothing to use to push up off the phallus.

As she gave up looking for a way to lift up, she could feel the pulsing start. She was getting more and more aroused while the pain faded. She was trapped and helpless; her legs dangling uselessly. To her surprise, that feeling of really being stuck was arousing her with a wave-like rush through her body. Before long, she was more caught up in the pleasure, and the pain she did feel was just more fuel for the overall sensation running through her body. Soon, she was frantically thrusting, twisting and turning against the fixed phallus uncontrollably.

The gag made it difficult to breathe and kept her from being as active in her own pleasure as she would have liked. She regretted the locks tremendously, but there was nothing she could change now. She tried pulling the head harness loose, but it was too well designed, and she couldn't slip a strap loose anywhere. Each time she paused to catch her breath, she could clearly feel the metal cock continuing to thrust slowly and steadily on its own.

She couldn't understand how the chair functioned. Suddenly she was one of those scientists that underestimated ancient technology as well, and was getting fucked quite nicely for it. There was no doubt at all that it was animated and knew where to thrust. It was actually responding to her like it had come alive. Her theories seemed so clueless now as her whole body rose and fell slightly while the phallus and chair worked its rhythms.

As she paused her own counter-exertions to catch her breath, yet again, Sue also noticed that her feet were not aching in the shoes. Somehow they were much more comfortable. The same with the gag; her jaw no longer ached. In fact, it seemed like her tongue and mouth were numb somehow. The taste was noticeable and really wasn't like rubber at all, more herbal like some kind of medicine. She tried to say something, and now nothing happened at all. The gag was clearly doing something to her vocal cords. She was completely silenced.

Sue was starting to get worried, but was also hornier than she could ever remember. She tried to get control of herself, but her body had its own ideas. She was in a new world of pleasure and could, for a little while at least, forget about the real world. As she resumed thrusting back against the phallus, she started to notice the sculpted texture of its surface creating more and more friction. She could feel the warmth of total arousal spreading over her body like the phallus was a heating element. Her directed weight driving it up into her made it feel like the center of her whole body was wrapped around it.

She could feel the warm flush extend down over her belly and up across her chest. It steadily continued to expand making it feel as if her breasts were swelling. Her hard nipples felt like they were contracting on themselves and ached with tightness. She squeezed her breasts as if checking fruit for ripeness--more like apples in her case. Yes, definitely a bit swollen. The rush of sensation pushed her arousal level so high she thought she would cum, but somehow her body held back and wasn't ready. Instead, she could feel the arousal just continuing to grow. When she felt her cheeks flush, it was as if the thrusting and lust was taking over her whole body.

She felt like a sheath tightened over the cock of a giant. Even in her frenzied state of arousal, the phallus still stretched her out uncomfortably with its size, like it might split her right open. Keeping her breath paced, she worked her hips back and forth with a twisting and rolling motion; the best she could do within the tightness of the chair. When the orgasm hit, it was as if she was contracting her whole body in order to squeeze the metal cock within her. The gag completely suppressed what would otherwise have been her first uncontrollable scream during climax. When the first huge series of contractions released, she gasped for breath. Her whole body seemed to twitch endlessly as the phallus slowed and then stopped its own thrusting too. As the orgasm ebbed, she felt pain return with each further contraction reminding her how she was stretched to her limit. Finally the contractions ended, and the pain subsided to a dull ache, and she wondered if she had ripped any tissue.

Sue hung from the phallus already wondering if she had just imagined it moving. What she felt defied her understanding of what was possible. Even her memory wanted to reject it. Dripping in sweat despite the cold room, she slowly recovered and fought to calm her breathing. She couldn't help feeling like she was still held in a cocoon around the hips and that she could actually just hang there for a long time feeling content, but her reverie was interrupted by involuntary contractions in her vaginal walls accompanied by sharp aching tension.

The phallus was definitely too large and her body had had enough. She tried once again, more urgently than ever this time, to find something to push off of with her arms, but found nothing but smooth slippery stone. She was still hanging suspended and intimately impaled. Good thing the length of the phallus was short enough to prevent it from ramming her cervix. She was starting to feel panic setting in, and wanted to rip the gag off so that she could breathe normally, but the keys were on the other side of the room. Desperation was building in her like a rising tide. She felt her vagina tighten involuntarily around the phallus again, trying to reject the intruder. Faintly, she could feel the thrusting start again. She hung there helplessly as it started to get stronger and stronger.

She felt a new surge of panic urging escape, but it was useless. She didn't know how she would be able to handle any more since she was completely out of strength and breath after only seconds of struggling. The warmth and arousal were returning. It seemed to spread rapidly across her body this time as she felt something like an electrical tingling. She tried to just hang there in enjoyment, recovering, but it didn't work. The phallus was moving around, driving her to react in different directions.

The last threads of doubt that it was somehow controlled and directed were instantly erased from her mind. It was not even a simple machine, it was like an intelligent being that knew it was fucking her senseless and was determined to do so. She was too sensitive not to react to its administrations, but there was no escape. Soon she was trying to stay one step ahead of the phallus by attempting to keep it from her most sensitive spots.

It wasn't long before she was struggling for breath again as the core of her being was mercilessly lifted, turned and ravaged up and down from her womanhood. She could see the room moving up and down with the rhythm of the chair's thrusting. Clearly it was creating a specific rhythm to drive her wild. Oh how she loved the feeling!

Once again, the surge of contractions took hold. She clenched down on the ball in her mouth and the rod in her pussy with all her might as a wave of pain/pleasure swept through her. The room swam as she attempted to ride the magic cock surging underneath her like a galloping horse. She knew that it was beyond her ability, but had no choice but to continue. The gag suppressed all her efforts to scream for help.

The thrusting stopped abruptly as she felt a huge final contraction that tensed her whole body. Her toes rolled tight within the heels. Her back arched in a spasm that registered like a distant sound of thunder to her overloaded brain. She could feel the orgasmic surge run up and down from her feet to her head and back. A dizzy sensation swam through her brain and a slow enveloping blackness closed in on her vision as she collapsed and fainted on the phallus. 



The Curator Ch. 02



Chapter 02: Professional Commitment

Sue could feel soft heat and see a red glow though her eyelids. She could imagine the sound of waves as if waking up on the beach, completely at peace and satisfied. After a while the stark silence of the side room drew her from her bliss, she started to remember her situation and slowly opened her eyes. The radiant heat spread over her evenly from the suspended heater. Sue immediately wondered how long she had been laying there and her usual media inspired fears of sunburn and skin damage flashed through her thoughts, the thing probably emitted UV. She thought she turned it off, but was starting to doubt everything after her ordeal. Regardless, she was glad it was on now and the low setting felt just right. The rest of her body started to awake up as well. She gradually felt the total penetration and relentless stretch of the overly large phallus return to her awareness. The cradling of the chair was still reassuring somehow. The solid stone matched her shape like an embrace. She thought she could just lay there forever basking in the satisfaction and warmth, snuggling with circumstances.

As other parts of her body continued to report into her awareness, she remembered the gag, the helplessness of her position and the unavoidable contractions of her vaginal walls fighting the metallic invader. Her sense of self-preservation started to return, and she knew she needed to find a way out of her predicament. She doubted she could take another session like the last one should the chair start up again. She fought down a brief flash of panic and ignored the lingering doubt that she hold herself together much longer. Now that she wasn't getting her brains fucked out, she could think clearly and explore her options so slowly started to feel around for a way to escape. There had to be something she missed. She would have been tempted to scream for help, despite the embarrassment of being found in her condition, if it were possible, but the numbing effect of the gag had completely silenced her vocal chords. The gag definitely left a strongly medicinal, almost herbal, aftertaste throughout her mouth that reminded her of a cough remedy.

To her surprise, she found that the arms of the chair were back in an upright position somehow; she also could feel the crate under her feet again. She checked again out disbelief. Yes, the wood was there. How was it possible? The door was locked. She didn't care right now. In relief, she leaned back as she let one last flush of contentment roll over her only for it to be interrupted by another involuntary contraction between her legs. With a slow, difficult push up she cleared the phallus and slowly stood up on the crate, her arms trembling with exertion. The relief from the relentless stretch was intense, and her vaginal walls slowly returning to normal was semi-orgasmic all by itself, but she couldn't enjoy the feeling. She was suddenly fighting for breath and struggling to keep her balance. It was almost impossible to breathe around the gag ball and breathing through her nose was just not enough. After a couple minutes, though, she was able to steady herself in the high-heels and calm down. She didn't want to go through that again so resolved to take things slowly.

She stepped off the crate with extreme care. Without her glasses, the floor was a blur. She turned to look back at the chair as dozens of questions started to come to mind. Her scientific mind was reasserting itself, but it would have to wait. With a sense of professional detachment, she carefully walked over to the table which held her keys and methodically worked through them one at a time to unlock the gag.

Jaw aches promised to get worse even with the numbness caused by mysterious Nuymean rubber gag. At the same time, the cold air of the museum climate control was quickly draining the warmth from her naked body. The result created an immediate sense of urgency which promised future desperation. With fumbling fingers, she still could not find the last key to the all-important strap at the back of her head. She had to have tried every key at least twice. Then, with a calmness she would not have thought possible, she remembered the other keys back in her office. She must have missed one when putting together her key ring. 

Without options, she simply moved on to getting dressed and pulled her clingy polyester undershirt on, leaving her bra aside. Modesty, covering her nipples, and pushing what little she had into position wasn't a priority right now. Next was the sweater and warmth. She couldn't remember the last time her nipples were hard enough to poke up so obscenely.

She drifted back to thinking warmly about the chair and let her hands stray to her crotch absent-mindedly, accompanied by some familiar and well-practiced fondling. Apparently there was no damage, but there was definitely some soreness.

The expected worry about getting caught while gagged and the guilt of putting herself in such danger for sake of her own lust didn't seem so important right now. For a moment during the ordeal, a moment long enough for a lifetime, she felt like she might die on the chair hanging naked on her stuffed sex. A complete acceptance and submission to her potential fate burnt through her. Any feelings of self-doubt and direction were gone, insignificant compared to what could have happened.

A complete wave of blissful well-being washed over her leaving behind a lingering sense of satisfaction that was beyond description; but, nevertheless, penetrated her mind as much as any man could ever penetrate her sex. She couldn't help but feel that something more significant than sexual possession had happened to her. The constant noise of background stress in her life was simply gone. Her worries about appearance, finding dates, rationalizing her life to her family and friends, the mess in her apartment and even the troubles with her landlord seemed to fade to trivial silliness. Even thoughts that she was almost trapped on the chair seemed inconsequential. She knew that there was something else to this feeling beyond the physical experience so yet more questions went onto her mental list. It was more than a feeling of coming down from a high. Instead, it was more like a feeling of being cured of something. Her problems had somehow been fucked out of her.

She returned to reality when the realization that she was standing comfortably in the high heels struck. Clearly something had changed. They seemed to fit perfectly like she had been wearing them for years. How did the arms on the chair retract and return? Her scientific mind cried out in outrage at the lack of explanation. A crust of her own juices and dried lube, baked on by the heater, was an embarrassing reminder of her animal abandon on the chair. How so much had come out of her made her feel like a complete slut. Still, the unexplained nagged more than any thoughts of embarrassment. She started to look at the chair with the full mental focus of a scientist seeing a new revelation. Aside from the personal experience, she had a whole new set of discoveries to explore.

Priority and focus. She reached down to pull off the heels so that she could put on her jeans, balancing like a flamingo. Even with a good tug, the left one didn't budge. She reset her balance and tried again, but didn't even feel the slightest slip of the shoe on her foot. Getting worried, she urgently sat down on the folding chair beside the desk ignoring the cold vinyl against her naked skin. Lifting her right foot, she stared in disbelief. The ankle strap was on. The flat metal ends were completely gone and the woven metal looked like one continuous smooth strap of golden lusterite. She could not feel any catch or release. Her mind raced. How had they closed? How would she get them off?

Her sense of detachment was vanishing rapidly to be replaced by a frantic urge. She pulled fruitlessly at the shoe again and again. Of course, the other one was exactly the same way. She doubled her frustration trying to pull it free, regardless. She was completely overtaken by a feeling of shocked disbelief which slowly faded to a sinking despair. She fought once again to get her breathing under control. The frustration of effort at pulling somehow aroused her which made her even more frustrated. She clenched her fists then tried to scream in frustration with no affect whatsoever.

She pulled her panties up over the shoes with no problem, but her jeans simply could not fit. She gave up in aggravation and again attempted to scream fruitlessly. The shoes had her beat. The legs of her jeans could not clear the heels. She thought about cutting them off to make shorts, but there was nothing sharp enough in the side room. She would have been heartbroken to ruin her favorite jeans anyway, but now had no way to cover herself. She was even more upset when she noticed how horny the frustration had made her. It was humiliating. She felt like her body was betraying her. 

She wished that she hadn't indulged in her own little secret at the mall when she bought the panties. She had felt sexy and flirtatious at the time. The bold floral print of pinks and reds with kisses against the bright white silky fabric seemed to almost glow in the dark against her drab sweater--nothing quite like unnatural fluorescent lighting.

There was nothing to wipe herself off with. Anyone who saw her might see the crusty trails on her legs and follow the trail upwards to the source. The baked on lust would not be removed easily. She could feel her arousal growing with the risk of being discovered. The frustration of the shoes was still there like a nagging itch she couldn't scratch. The weight of the metal was also starting to become worrisome. The damn things were heavy! Her nipples were still hard enough to peek up again through the sweater in reminder of her lingering arousal and the aftermath of her experience. Her breath was getting heavy against the gag again. OK, calm down, relax.

The heels were a lot taller than she would normally wear--which was typically only during special occasions to begin with--and could already feel her arches straining. She would probably break her neck if she tried to run across the blurry floor. Once again she cursed her poor eyesight and wished she hadn't left her glasses in her office. She unlocked the door from the inside and cracked it enough to look down the hall. The brightly lit passage would leave nowhere to hide. The gag might draw more attention than her panties, but she had her doubts. She reminded herself to stay calm; it was the probably 4 o'clock in the morning after all.

Grabbing her jeans and bra, she folded them neatly out of habit then she started to walk, taking short steps, carefully down the hall towards her office. The cross-hatching on the bottom of the shoes was surprisingly grippy. She tried to keep the clicking from the heels to a minimum. The slightly metallic sound against the tile floor seemed to echo resoundingly as if to announce to anyone who might be around, "Look at the half naked slut who fucked herself so much that she's covered in her own sex juice."

She cursed under her breath when she found her office door locked. Finally fumbling for the right key, feeling like a whore coming home from a bad night, she gave one last look down the hall before ducking inside. She didn't think anyone saw her and locked the door behind her.

Sue pulled open the drawer with all of the spare keys and started to work, after sitting down to rest her aching feet. The relief when she finally felt the right key turn was almost as great as the relief from pulling the mouth cover off and prying out the rubber ball. She tried to work her jaw for a few minutes, but it refused to move and her tongue was completely numb. She tried to talk, but still couldn't make a sound. As feeling returned, the aches were sharp at first, but diminished to a dull sore feeling. She took half a dozen deep breaths and told herself that she wouldn't take breathing normally for granted again. The herbal numbing effect of the gag was completely unexpected, score one for participant archaeology.

Covering herself was next. She scanned the room thinking and looking for an idea. Thank all the Nuymean gods, she found her neglected gym bag. She slowly worked her black Lycra tights over the heels and up her legs, careful not to snag them. She bought them for spinning classes and thought they were a good mix of conservative coverage, function and "look at my ass, I'm advertising...but I'm not a slut." Now she was starting to have serious doubts about the slut part. Even though she was a bit chunky, she considered her legs and rear her best features. Her buns were as good as anyone else she saw at the gym even if she was battling muffin top. With the sweater pulled down onto her hips as far as it would stretch, the combination did look a little like something the thinner, fashionable women might wear. It would seem odd for her typical geek style and get looks, but it would pass for now.

She was about to head towards the side room to re-examine the chair when she caught sight of herself in the Victorian standing mirror she had borrowed from "not suitable for display" storage. She loved the lewd little cherubs carved into the dark wood frame. She might not be very attractive, but still liked to take stock before heading out. The high heels did seem to do a little something for her posture. She noticed a faint tan starting from the light and knew she was right about the UV. It didn't look half bad. She saw the flatness of her chest and immediately started to pull off her sweater and undershirt to put her bra back on. She hated the necessity, but loved the help it provided. Nothing like the Wonderbra! She would do what she could with what she had. The discomfort was secondary. Besides, it just felt unnatural for the twins to be hangin' loose.

As she started to settle her breasts into the bra cups, trying to find that compromise between presentation and comfort, she turned back to the mirror. How could she have not seen that before? In the mid-range of her chest between her neck and cleavage, centered exactly, was a black symbol. She grabbed her glasses for a closer look. It was clearly a Nuymean hieroglyph a little over two and a half inches long. It was crisp and clear like a well done tattoo. What the fuck? How is that possible? It was huge!

The mark was an intriguing combination of the Nuymean symbols for "trust" and "gods." The meaning could be either "trust in the gods" or "the trust of the gods." The Nuymean language was not precise in the meaning. Even the usage of the word "trust" was suspect and had implications of its own.

All the questions she had about the events in the room were now compounded by an order of magnitude. She felt the skin over the mark and could not detect anything abnormal except the mark itself. She rubbed at it and clearly it would not be easily removed and was in all likelihood permanent. There was not the slightest smudge. It was in the skin and not on the skin, without sign of a needle mark.

With the mark, she felt labeled somehow, but how and for what purpose? Instead of concern, the sense of peace and contentment she felt earlier seemed to have a hint of a name now. She was worth labeling like she was part of something. She knew now, without a doubt, that there was a purpose to her life. She knew the mark was something very significant. Despite a slight euphoria, Sue returned to the feeling of arousal and frustration--finally working the bra into position while balancing in the irremovable heels. Was the mark some sort of recognition? It seemed to be so, but for what?

As she kept thinking about the questions in her mind and what had happened, going over and over the details, she tried again to remove the heels as a logical action. The frustration and implications of them magnified her flush of arousal like it was lying in wait to be rekindled. She had to do something for relief. She should probably wait for the numbness in her face to fade anyways. At least she could get a weak grunting sound out now. She unlocked her special drawer--the one where she kept her well-used vibrator and little-used toy collection. She spent a lot more time at work than at home--nothing like the privacy of your own office.

Her mind kept replaying the helpless feeling of being stuck on the chair while forced to endure the relentless stimulation of the phallus. The helplessness contributed to the amazing orgasms more than she would have ever guessed before experiencing it. Score two for participant archaeology. The vibrator wand would be the opposite giving complete control over her own level stimulation. It simply didn't fill the nagging desire she was feeling. She wanted something like that helpless feeling again. She needed more...adventure.

She dug through the drawer and found the packaged silicone squid. Her friend Steph had given it to her for her birthday, mostly as a joke--or so she thought. She was always going on about how single women need to address their needs and how sexual desires were a natural part of being a woman. Sue hadn't taken her all that seriously. Now she was changing her tune. The box said it was a Streetwalker Squid Stimulator Deluxe with Partner Play. She read the description and realized it was a serious sex toy and not a gag gift. Steph had really meant it.

The squid had a remote control and long life lithium batteries. Small "tentacles" hung down from a tapered oblong head. On the outside edge were the largest tentacles. They had small suction cup-like nubs that looked like they could grip the vaginal walls. On the inside, several shorter fine tentacles hung down longer, maybe for decoration. In the middle, up under the tentacles was a mounting lug that matched a long insertion rod.

The quick reference picture on the back showed inserting the squid using the rod and then pulling out the release knob at the opposite end. Afterwards, a different tool shaped more like surgical tongs was used to grip the lug. It would grab the lug and then a rod could be slid upwards to re-engage the squid so that it could be pulled out. It seemed pretty elaborate, but had a gynecological instrument-like quality to it that left her believing it was well thought out. The box guaranteed that if used properly the squid would never slip out even if jogging or swimming. The remote had a complex variety of settings with some kind of microprocessor control.

She had a sudden whim to insert the squid while going back down to the side room to investigate what happened. It wasn't much more than a fancy bullet vibrator with an electronic control by the looks of it. She could leave the remote control in her office so wouldn't be able to stop the stimulation. The whole idea of being a bit out-of-control pushed her over the edge and instantly she started to rip open the plastic wrap on the outside of the box. She tossed aside the usual booklet of warnings, disclaimers and instructions in 16 languages. She always got a smirk out of the requisite for novelty use only markings--lawyers, bastards. Probably quite a few had one of these too.

She pulled down her gym tights and panties then squeezed the enclosed sample lube package over the soft silicone of the squid. She was already turned on and probably didn't need it, but thought better safe than sorry. The pink silicone had a fleshy texture that made it seem remotely life-like. The sample lube was really thick compared to normal and clung to the squid well. She spread her nether lips to keep as much lube as possible on the squid as she slid it into her entrance.

Sue steadily pushed the rod upwards until she found what seemed like a natural position deep inside, just short of her cervix. She knew this position would spread the vibration all through her sex and give her a slow building effect. She found it hard to come without stimulation on her clit, but she knew that a purely vaginal orgasm would be powerful and strong when it finally did hit. She inserted the sample lube packet next to the insertion rod and squeezed the last of the lube in behind the squid before releasing her labia to help hold it all in.




The Curator Ch. 02



She walked around and could feel the presence of the squid, but it was comfortable. Happy with the positioning, she pulled the release knob on the insertion rod and let out a gasp. The large tentacles on the outside of the squid expanded and pushed into her love tunnel. Now she felt invaded. It was still comfortable, but definitely knew she had something up her cunt. She wasn't sure if she liked the sensation.

She resisted the urge to use her fingers on her swollen clit, wanting to have the full effect of lack of control. She moved around and nothing slipped. The squid seemed to be firmly in place. She flushed when she thought about how she now contained something that could turn on and off by itself whenever it felt like it.

The remote had several initial settings; everything electronic had all kinds of options these days.



She didn't worry about the selections, just leaving most on default what seemed interesting. Stimulation mode, random. Stimulation min level, tease. Stimulation max level, extreme. Adherence, on. Duration, until disabled at remote. Interval, 30 to 90 minutes. Security mode, full. Partner play, active. She could still run back to her office if it got to be too much. All she could think about was getting that feeling of adventure back again. She hit the "I agree" followed by the "Submit" button, rearranged her clothes, then opened the door and headed into the hall, leaving the controller and the removal tongs in her desk drawer so that she would not be in control. As soon as she looked down the hall, she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Now, with her glasses, she could clearly see the lens of the forgotten security camera. Charlie the night guard could have seen her semi-naked walk down the hall. Worse, she realized that the cameras would be linked to recorders.

The usual day guard, Bill, would be merciless if he found out. They had a bit of a history after some dating that didn't go well. It had all happened fast. She didn't think she led him on, but he sure thought he was entitled to something and couldn't keep his hands off her. He just laughed in her face and told her that a nerd with her looks better take what she can get. She had pushed away and ran off trying not to cry. He was always trying to embarrass and tease her ever since. He seemed to have some kind of spiteful agenda and resentment for highly educated people on top of it. Pictures would likely be on the internet in no time if he got the recording.

She glanced back into her office and checked her desk clock before closing the door. The sinking feeling turned to panic when she saw that it was 6:30AM. Charlie's shift was until 7 o'clock. The museum opened at 8AM. She didn't have much time so went straight up the hall with the limitations of the heels once again reminding her of how far out of hand things had become. She stumbled every once in a while, but ignored it and kept pushing onwards. Between the added weight of the shoes and the shortened strides, her legs were getting a good workout. Damn, these heels are heavy! 

She usually took the stairs, but couldn't think about trying them right now. Instead, she walked the endless hallway to the freight elevator. Halfway down the hall, a warming sensation grew inside her. It felt chemical. The sample lube must be one of those "warming" lubes. She could remember various ads now about enhancing female sensitivity and improving sexual response with some products. Fuck. The last thing she needed was a fire burning inside her right now.

She pushed the button and waited. The elevator took forever. The sensation was really heating up now to a definite burning. She wanted to dance around or grab her crotch, but knew that once again there was a camera right above her. The elevators are carefully watched and bristling with cameras from different angles. She bit her lip some; it helped.

She found Charlie sitting at the desk reading a magazine. She walked over carefully trying not to draw attention to the difficult heels. She quickly wiped some sweat from her brow using her sleeve. He didn't even look up. "Hello Dr. Sue."

"Hi Charlie, anyone here tonight but us? I thought I heard some strange noises earlier."

Her voice was a bit soft and scratchy, still not fully recovered.

"Just us, I don't think you'll have any problems," he said matter of factly.

"Excuse me? I'm not sure what you mean."

Could he possibly be referring to what she thought?

He put down the magazine and moved towards the monitors on the desk. She was surprised to see it was a copy of Alien Watch. That was the rag which kept reporting all the speculations about Nuymeans and alien origins. Within moments, she saw herself on the monitor. He clicked on the mouse a few times and then she saw the front crotch of her panties on the screen at full zoom as she walked the basement hall. Her jaw dropped and so did the pit of her stomach.

Charlie spoke first, "I'm just glad you're starting to show some professional dedication. A failed experiment can be expected here and there. It's the persistence that matters the most in the end."

He zoomed back out and she could see herself fumbling with the office key. He continued, "It's an old system, but was state of the art at the time. The cameras are triggered by motion sensors. Any activity is recorded."

"Tapes?" she said meekly.

"Of course, everything is recorded and logged. The museum is full of priceless objects."

"Oh," she said with a defeated sigh.

"There is a flaw with the system though. If the motion sensors don't detect anything, then there is nothing to record."

Charlie rewound back to her walking down the hall and paused on her again, this time a close-up of her ass. He seemed to be experimenting with the angle, zoom and resolution.

The warmth in her cleft felt like it was spreading across her body along with the nervous tension that was starting to erupt. She felt a few fresh drops of sweat bead on her forehead. The thought that she was exposed was both terrifying and arousing at the same time even if the voyeur was some 80+ year old security guard. She had never felt anything like it before.

"I don't want to see you get into any kind of trouble, but I can't have this kind of thing in my museum. You need to be more careful. If you call me and let me know you need some privacy, I can make the appropriate arrangements. You were lucky this time, but I need to make sure you understand you did something wrong. It might not be so easy next time. I raised three daughters and know that it takes some kind of punishment to make sure the lesson is learned."

She was a little shocked at his fatherly tone, my museum. There was more than meets the eye here. She knew he was on the board of trustees and had worked here since before she was born. Maybe there was even more yet.

Charlie handed her a large manila envelope and looked her straight in the eyes. "Put your panties in here. There is a ladies' room around the corner. I want you to remember what it's like to be exposed."

Disbelief shook her deeply. Her thoughts raced. Was he a pervert? Was he just trying to humiliate her? Would he do something with the panties that she'd regret later?

Just then the revolving door started to spin and the museum director came through with his cell phone at his ear.

"Dr. Sue, thank God you're here. I've been trying to call you for an hour."

He had a really annoyed look with perhaps a touch of contempt.

"Your intern...Cindy...had a car accident and can't conduct the tours today. I have over 150 students on buses headed here now. I need for you to handle the Nuymean part of the tour. We've split them into five groups."

Shock hit like a sledge hammer. Losing her panties was one thing. Trouble with the Director was another. Even more to the point, the squid within her started to slowly vibrate. She held down a gasp and took a couple deep breaths as discretely as possible. Her voice was still a little off, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I'd be happy to step in, but I need some time to get ready."

"Nonsense, you look just fine. In fact, I'm glad you are starting to wear something more professional--even if a bit...modern...instead of just dungarees all the time."

She thought she might fall right over and it wasn't just the heels. Dungarees? Really? Just groovy was her first thought. Suddenly she realized that Charlie had the video on pause showing her standing outside her office in her underwear and fought down panic. The squid started to speed up like some kind of demonic curse was trying to make her nightmares come true. She would probably have nightmares of coming in public now.

The Director started to walk past without waiting for a response. "I need you upstairs in 15 minutes and don't forget you're still on probation. I'm not particularly impressed so far, you need to show more professional dedication." He looked at her and didn't seem to notice the video screen at the guard desk.

She was going to bring up how she was up all night already, but that was out of the question. "Don't worry, I should have some new evidence and should have a paper ready for publication soon."

He continued down the hall and talked back over his shoulder. "Glad to hear it, but I'll be blunt. You need to get that publication done or there is no justification to keep you on staff."

She wanted to feel completely enraged, but knew he was right. The heat and the squid was all she could dwell on at the moment anyways.

Charlie held out the envelope with a stern look. She snatched it out of his hand and gave him her best acid stare in return, but saw no reaction at all. She headed to the ladies' room. She didn't know how to stop the burning or remove the thick gel so she pressed onwards. It actually seemed to plug her up with its thickness, and she realized that was probably a good thing.

She dampened some paper towels and went to the back stall. By the time she cleaned off her legs and worked the tights down to get the panties off, she was running short on time. The squid was still going, but not getting any worse. It would drive her up and then back down. She realized it must be in "tease" mode. Still, it was driving her mad a bit and she didn't want to be walking a tour group around while panting.

She stuck a finger up inside trying to hook the lug with her fingernail. She had to get this thing out of her and fast. She couldn't quite reach far enough, but kept trying. As soon as she got close her finger brushed one of the thinner inner tentacles. Immediately an electric shock stabbed her sensitive regions. She yelped in pain and surprise. Maybe it was some kind of shorted connection? She tried again and the shock was even more intense. She wouldn't be doing that again. It was obviously something deliberate. The smaller tentacles must be some sort of sensors to guard from reaching the lug. She would need to get back to her office to check the instruction manual and use the tongs to pull the damned thing out. The shock dampened her arousal some. She refocused and quickly worked her black Lycra tights back up.

She felt almost naked with just the tights and no underwear as she walked back to Charlie at the main desk. It seemed like there was a breeze right between her legs now. She knew it was mostly her imagination, but it mattered little in how she really felt. He took the envelope, glanced inside and gave her a nod. He never looked up to see her angry glare. Bill the daytime watchman was here now and she didn't want to do anything that might be noticed. Charlie showed her another envelope which appeared to contain the tape. "I'll slip it under your office door."

"Thanks," she said reflectively. Then it occurred to her.

"Charlie, I have a quick question."

"What can I help you with?"

"Is there anyone else who has the key to the basement storage room in my section, 45B? It seems like someone else could have been in there and I wanted to make sure my experiments are not disturbed."

He went over to the desk and pulled out a file. Within a couple minutes, he paused with his finger on the paper.

"No record of any other keys."

She wasn't surprised, but knew she needed to check. Someone else with a key was the most logical explanation for the crate and heater.

Sue turned and headed down the hall to the Nuymean exhibit almost tripping before she remembered the heels. Just their weight forced a sway of her hips. Walking in the heels seemed to fuel the relentless teasing of the squid--at least it took her mind off her aching arches. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bill look up from the monitors then he looked back down and reached for the controller mouse. She knew exactly where he was zooming.

She didn't really care if Bill got some cheap thrills. She was too busy trying to concentrate. She was starting to get into the feeling and was swaying her hips even more purposefully when the vibrations simply stopped.

She wanted to reach into her tights to finish the deal, but knew that Bill could be watching her every move. After seeing the zoom feature, she knew that he could see every little detail. He would probably appreciate her lack of panty lines. The heat of the lube was strong, but she seemed to be getting used to it a little. It didn't seem to be getting any worse now.

She arrived to find the typical assortment of high school kids pouring into the exhibit. At that point, she went into autopilot and started to give the typical lecture and show. The whole thing was rather mechanical after that as she did the second, third and then fourth group mostly on autopilot. The fifth group and last group arrived as she was in full stride. The lack of practice was of no longer any consequence.

As she approached the glass case full of phalluses, she could feel a slow and steady vibration start up. The movement seemed to stir up the hot lube as well. Her body responded rapidly and informed her brain that it had been waiting for something to happen all along so was more than ready. She paused and leaned back on the case involuntarily. Suddenly she felt the disinterested students notice and shift every eye in the room to actually focus and pay attention to her.

In a moment of inspiration, she put her finger up to her nose like she had a really big sneeze coming. It worked almost immediately and the students went back about their various distractions. She milked it for few seconds while she regained her composure. She had 8 minutes left before they were done and she could send them to the next station.

The vibrations seemed to get stronger and faster than before. It must not be on tease mode this time. She was finding it difficult to stand still. It was obvious to her that she was walking quickly like she was hurrying the presentation, but the students didn't seem to notice. She had to force herself to slow down since she was starting to get out of breath a little.

At last she finished the rehearsed script and asked if there were any questions. She got the usual blank stares. Giving them a few minutes to look around on their own, she slipped off behind the high priestess mannequin, panting noticeably. The heat in her love tunnel was unbelievable. Her whole body seemed to be heating up. She could feel a cold sweat all over and felt a little light-headed like she ate one of those insanely strong peppers at the Chinese restaurant. One of the students came over and asked her if she was alright. She simply said that she thought she might be getting a cold. He seemed satisfied and a little concerned about getting too close so beat a hasty retreat.

Finally, they started to file out of the room with the typical chatter from seeing something to talk about later. They would be inventing a whole new set of sex toy jokes--new to them at least. With the last one through the doorway, Sue went behind the counter of phalluses and lay down on the floor out of sight of the cameras and patrons. Face down, she put her fist under her, over her clit, and started to grind her hips shamelessly against her fist on the floor. She realized that anyone who did look over the counter would see a lewd view of her Lycra covered ass thrusting up and down. With the headstart, she was already feeling the crescendo nearing its peak. The vibrations seemed to just keep growing in intensity while she had a huge body shaking orgasm.

When the orgasm faded, Sue was ready to get up and head back to her office, but the squid had different ideas. It kept going mercilessly. She wasn't sensitive after orgasm, but every slight move brought a tingle that was almost painful. She couldn't stand the idea of getting up. She lay behind the counter waiting to be released from the overstimulation.

Within a couple minutes, she was completely drenched in sweat and panting again. The squid was buzzing furiously, but fortunately was rather quiet. She felt her body giving in and begging her mind to go on the same ride. Once again she was grinding against her fist on the verge. She kept pushing harder and harder for more pressure. She needed more than just some friendly fingers. She wanted to feel it down inside where the squid vibrated. She had to work almost twice as long to push herself over the edge, but the final result was worth it. Her second orgasm was almost as strong and much longer than the first.

The vibrations continued relentlessly with no regards to her climax. It felt like the tentacles were wiggling around inside. The tingle was less this time. Instead, it was starting to get a little painful. She steeled her will and felt like she could get some composure. Now that her body had been spent so much the sensations were easier to ignore, her will power was stronger. Gritting her teeth in effort, she stood up carefully in the heels and straightened out her clothes. She put a little show of having checked something behind the counter for the cameras. She wiped her brow as best as she could and headed to the elevator.

Sue walked carefully. The high heels forced her hips to sway enough that the vibrations deep inside her seemed to move around. The end effect changed with each step from slightly painful back to thrilling. She walked slowly and steadily; her body seemed to be unable to react any other way. When she smiled at the museum patrons, they seemed to think something was odd, but didn't dwell on her long. She was just another odd person among the oddities they had already seen in the museum.

The final walk across the lobby to the elevator, passed Bill at his guard desk, was the hardest of all. With the tights and a wide lobby, she knew he would be watching every wiggle of her ass. She had never worn anything so revealing around him before. The old marble and glass art deco was drafty in the winter. The cooler air of the lobby was coupling with her arousal to harden her nipples instantly. The air flowing around the tights created a naked and exposed sensation. She knew it wasn't true, but her body did not. The hot lube continued its ever-present warming and was enough to push her across some kind of inner threshold. Her face start to flush in response.

She could see Bill trying to look discretely, wanting a direct view, but it wasn't working. He was in full blown stare mode without any pretense of politeness, while she just kept walking like nothing was wrong. Fortunately, one of the patrons started asking him questions. By the time they were done, Sue was about to get into the elevator. Once inside and with the door closed, she panted several times for multiple reasons. Her hands trembled as she inserted her access key for the basement level.

As soon as the elevator started to go down, the orgasm hit her suddenly. She gripped the railing with white knuckles. The door opened, but she didn't move at first. She snapped back to reality when it started to close. She quickly put her hand in the way to stop the door from closing again and continued. She didn't notice the vibration anymore. Perhaps it finally stopped?




The Curator Ch. 02



The hall to her office felt endless. The vibrator started to play her again part way down the hall. She was surprised by how soon. Maybe this was just a pause in the original routine? It would drive her up to the brink and then back off? She started to wonder just how sophisticated the microprocessor and programming of the squid might be. She walked near the wall to steady herself. She stopped when needed. Eventually she got her office door open. An envelope with the security tape was inside.

The relief that she was safe from video humiliation was distant as she stepped over the tape and closed the door. She almost tore her tights off. She pulled open her special drawer and found the remote control and the tong extractor. The vibrator was more torment than stimulation at this point. She grabbed the removal tongs and started fishing.

She felt for the lug and tried to match her position with the picture in the instructions. As soon as she touched a tentacle, she felt another even stronger electric shock rip through her. It seemed to go on and on. She writhed in pain uncontrollably, unsure whether to clench her legs or spread them out wide in a vain effort to reduce the pain. Blackness was closing in from the sides of her vision as she felt the first moments of passing out. Cold sweat was forming on her brow. It stopped just in time. She heard a beep from the remote.

On the display, the remote said, "Initial calibration complete", that was probably from earlier, followed by "3 security violations detected entering lockdown mode." What the fuck? What did that mean?

The vibrator kept going as she snatched the instructions. She found the section on security.

To accommodate specific domination games, adherence mode must be turned off at the remote to remove the stimulator. If security mode is also set, the access code must be entered on the remote to operate it. Security mode can be enabled to give the wearer a loss of control even if the remote is not retained by the dominant partner.

If adherence mode is on, guardian tentacles will detect any attempt to remove the stimulation squid. If 3 tampering violations have been detected, lockdown mode will be activated. In lockdown mode, increasing security shocks will prevent removal of the squid stimulator (see caution regarding electrical burns). The remote cannot override lockdown mode. Lockdown will reset in 4 hours. During lockdown, tease simulation mode will be disabled and the interval between stimulation sessions will be reduced to 10 minutes.

Sue dropped the instructions and fell back into the recliner with a gasp of frustration while she convulsed with the next of what promised to be many sweetly painful forced orgasms.



The Curator Ch. 03



Chapter 3: Counter Moves

At first, the 10 minute pause interval was like a form of torture--only a moment for Sue to catch her breath after getting worked over good by the "toy" deep within her. It was too short for relief from the otherwise continuous onslaught. The tiny processor in the squid was very clever. It knew exactly where her threshold was and could keep her on the edge or force her over. One thing she quickly learned is that it would not stop until she had an orgasm, like it or not.

While the squid was relentless, it was really the hot lube that was starting to get to her. Unlike the squid, there was no rest from it. She thought it would start to fade by now, but it was going on as strong as ever, maybe even more so. She checked the package hoping for some clue about how to relieve the burn. She-Devil Personal Lubricant. Ultra concentrated. Sensitivity Enhancing. Extra Long Lasting.. The warning labels were scary:

Use with caution, She-Devil is highly concentrated. Extra thick, no-drip formula will not leak. Do not drive a car or operate machinery within 24-hours of use. Do not exceed the recommended amount (about the size of a dime). Occasional use only, do not use more than once a week or excessive and permanent nerve sensitization may occur. Chemically balanced, oil-based formula penetrates membranes and tissue, but will not harm latex, silicone or most plastics. Do not get on hands. In the event of eye contact do not flush eyes with water. Seek medical attention immediately. Eye contact can result in permanent vision loss. Sensitive individuals may experience severe discomfort. Test using a small drop before use. Seek medical attention should discomfort persist for more than 4 hours. Moisture activated formula, do not swim, shower or expose treated area to liquid for 24 hours. Vaginal use only. With regular weekly use, the penetrating formula of She-Devil can increase sensitivity and the intensity of orgasms.

Sue knew first-hand that this was one time the product claims were real and not just bullshit marketing. The packet was supposed to contain 24 applications. She had used the whole thing without realizing--one time reading the instructions really was important. Now she was thinking about how she might be found in an hour, after a desperate 911 emergency call, squirming on the floor, grabbing her crotch, if the burn kept increasing. She thought about leaving for the emergency room right then. A vision of explaining her overdose of sex lube, feet up in the stirrups, to some Doctor with his head between her legs changed her mind. Yeah...right...not a good idea. She had made it this long, so she just had to make it the rest of the way. She gave up on the lube packaging. There were no clues about how to neutralize it. If anything, it scared her from trying to wash it out. Trying water would certainly have brought that 911 call. She grabbed a paper napkin and her hand sanitizer then cleaned her fingers vigorously.

The package didn't mention the most diabolical part. The heat was working like one of those post-workout sore muscle creams. Her aching muscles were being rejuvenated during the 10 minute breaks with an indirect therapeutic warmth. Regardless, each stimulation cycle of the squid was getting more and more intense. Thoughts raced through her mind. Was the squid programmed to do that? Was the She-Devil really sensitizing her? Was it just that she was getting more and more drained and her vaginal muscles were getting really worked over? Was she just imagining it? No matter what, she knew it was happening and didn't have the slightest idea how to stop it.

Sue started to use the 10 minute pauses to somewhat frantically review the squid manual with shaky hands. Somewhere it might have an emergency shutdown. At the very least, she needed to crack the passcode. The squid manual said the tentacles were also sensors linked to the microprocessor which could learn patterns and recognize reactions. It definitely knew when she had contractions during the big O and so far was precisely accurate. She wondered what other sensors it might have. The manual left a lot unexplained and was excessively brief. She did see a MSRP of $25,000 on the back of the box. Where did Steph get this thing, NASA? Knowing Steph, she got a special deal because it was recalled for safety issues. It didn't matter. When the insidious device was out of her, it was never going back in. She found the default passcode and would be ready with the removal tongs as soon as the 4 hour lockdown was over.

She found some display buttons on the remote and set it to display current status. Unbelievably the battery gauge was still showing 99% charged. It claimed to have quad density lithium-tri-ion pacemaker batteries. Whatever that was, it sounded high-tech enough to last longer than she could. Any hope that the batteries would give out, setting her free, were quickly forgotten. She felt a little more of that inner surrender feeling...or was it some kind of despair?

She found a section of the manual describing the different stimulation modes. They were all programmed with various intensities, durations and techniques. She scanned down the list and tried to remember as many as possible. Some had musical names like "Crescendo", "Harmony", "Allegro" and "Fugue." Others sounded like simple classification, "Vibration with alternating random intervals", "False pause" and "Long duration tease before sudden release." Some were more colorful and maybe a little scary like "Early Bird", "Well-Endowed" and "Fucky Monkey." "G-spot development" was the scariest of all until she found "Multi-Orgasmic Training." In that mode, the squid would not stop after one orgasm. It would keep going, trying for additional orgasms, until it sensed that the wearer's vaginal muscles were too weak to continue. She got a little weak in the knees thinking about it.

*###*
Most of the stimulation sessions where creative variations on basics that felt great. Sue was actually starting to look forward to them; a routine was establishing. Before long, she was going through old files and papers during the rest interval. Her sense of time was completely disrupted. The pauses seemed to go on forever while she waited for the squid to steal away any ability to concentrate on anything but her body...again.

Somewhere there had to be a reference to the mark on her chest in one of the documents. With disappointment, she eventually found only a few snippets of information. One of them, however, was intriguing: pencil written notes in Dr. Barnes' handwriting on an inventory card for a Nuymean Priestess Ritual Guide. The writing said, "On loan, annex display." She had no idea what annex that would be. She knew every item on display upstairs in the main exhibit as well as most of the organized items in the basement section and this was not one of them. She would need to ask Charlie about it.

The vibrations inside her were slowly mounting in what was beginning to seem like a familiar pattern. She leaned back in the recliner to enjoy the ride. She decided to stop fighting it, just accept and enjoy her circumstances. Somehow the surrender was liberating.

Sex was a difficult subject for Sue. She just couldn't feel comfortable and just let nature happen. Why was it so hard? Why the guilt? She knew it shouldn't bother her, but sex was just one of those things that overwhelmed her. Birth control, STDs, sluts, virgins, whores, nymphomaniacs, pre-marital, sin, adultery, laws, bi-sexuals, homosexuals, heterosexuals, flirting, celibacy, players, one-night stands, bondage, fetish, kama sutra, spanking, hand-cuffs...it just made her want to scream, but she couldn't help be fascinated by it all.

At first, by deliberate choice, she didn't want to get into a relationship in order to stay focused on her school and her career--her PhD wasn't exactly a walk in the park. Men were just more than she could handle at the same time. Now she couldn't seem to find a relationship because of her career. She didn't even know where to begin.

It seemed like all the key people in her field of study were male. The pattern of her behavior had been molded through that influence. After her years in school and her negative experiences in the field, denying the feminine side of herself in order to keep a low profile was soon way too easy. If all you do is work, you can keep yourself occupied. She had her electric boyfriend even if she still felt like a teenager hiding in her bedroom playing with herself. Somehow she had to find a way to break out of the painful cycle. Her insecurities and tally of faults flooded back. It isn't fair!

She didn't need to worry about sex right now; the toy inside her was in control and doing a good job. Just let it happen. Accept it. Her body had it's own primitive ideas--the restless doubts she had about her feminine side were being called out on the floor, demanding to be examined. She had to confront her sexual needs. Submitting control was one possibility she would have never have considered before. Instead of enduring an ordeal, she was now on an adventure of discovery. She could almost laugh at the thought that she of all people was wearing high heels and skin-tight Lycra vs. practical shoes and comfortable jeans.

The deep throbbing vibration was punctuated with short bursts of faster pulses. The pulses would drive her right up to the edge and then back off. She checked the status display on the remote and it said "Participation Mode." This was a new one. The squid was changing tactics on her. There was a small icon of a hand along the top of the display. The manual listed the icon as "manual stimulation required." She must masturbate in unison to be allowed to come. She realized she needed the extra clitoral stimulation to achieve orgasm in order to break the cycle otherwise the vibration alone would never be enough. It would just keep going on and on. The microprocessor would see to that. She would hate to be in public if "partition mode" was selected, but she didn't mind in her office with the door locked.

She switched on her vibrating wand and bit her lip. It felt amazing. Within a couple seconds, she snapped out of her reverie with a painful electric jolt from inside her intimate regions. It was so painful that it caught her breath and made her eyes tear. The remote beeped. The display said, "Unauthorized use of stimulation device. Lockdown timer reset." Sue groaned with an agony of frustration and clenched her fists pointlessly. She felt completely cheated; the instructions didn't say anything about restrictions. The timer on the remote was back to 4 hours. She had already made it an hour and a half for absolutely nothing.

The squid continued its ministrations like nothing happened. The helpless frustration from the squid extending her time helped fuel her arousal. She was required to push herself the rest of the way and she would need to do it the old fashioned way, with her fingers. She rubbed at her clit with a circular and steady motion. It was like a flashback to being a teenager. It was working quite well, but the squid was devious and kept backing down the vibrations as soon as she was near reaching a climax. Eventually, she was doing most of the work, breathing hard, and her unaccustomed arms were aching. The vibrations were very low when she started to spasm, then shot straight up to high and stayed there as her climax passed the point of no return. The orgasm was not especially strong but lasted a long time while she kept working her mound. More importantly, it was enough to get the squid to shut down for another 10 minutes.

Somehow she had to get back to figuring out what happened with the chair. She knew that her best chances of finding new evidence where now while the experience was fresh. She was feeling guilty and embarrassed about letting her libido take over and ending up in this predicament with the squid. She wasn't the kind of woman who would let sex urges rule her life, but she had given in and was now being forced to do just that. Her willpower kicked in with defiance. She would not become a sexual object.

Almost without thought, she headed down the hall towards the side room with the chair. She had 8 and a half minutes left to get there and could be safely inside with the door locked before the next session. A few people were in the hallway here and there, but they were about their business and so was she. She arrived and had a minute to relax before the squid started in again.

She was a bit distracted about what she would check first through the whole session. The stimulation continued, but she remembered almost nothing other than that she climaxed solidly in the end. Little did she know that the squid recorded all the data and increased a few parameters after monitoring the result of the less effective stimulation.

She first examined the arms looking for how they retracted. It didn't take long to see there were exceedingly thin slits for a sliding mechanism underneath each one--obvious now, but not obvious if you didn't know to look for something there. She would have never guessed that the arms were retractable beforehand. Effectively this thing was a trap for someone unsuspecting. The arms would drop and a helpless female, bold enough to ride the phallus, would be stuck. She knew the crate being returned was the key to her avoiding that fate...however it had happened. The arms released and could be returned, but how? She pushed and pulled on them various ways without affect.

The phallus was still in place. The arms must have retracted right after she slipped on the crate. Somehow her weight shift must have been involved otherwise they would have dropped one of the other times she used the chair. She just stared for a few minutes, taking in the details, letting her intuition have some soak time. She kept focusing on the phallus and this time it wasn't just her libido. It was one of the only moving parts. Sue instinctively grabbed the phallus and pulled down as hard as she could in the same direction she would have slipped.

The arms dropped instantly with a click and thump. That was it! The extra force released some kind of catch that released the arms. With her using the crate, she would have never pushed down on it that hard before. One mystery solved.

The arms were now flatly recessed into the surface of the chair. Pushing and pulling on the phallus had no further effect. There had to be some sort of release. The only other mechanism she knew of was the sliding catch on the front of the chair which released the phallus.

Just as she was going to check the catch, she felt an undeniable sensation starting up down there. She checked the remote. What would it be this time? It simply said, "Dance". She had no idea what that meant, but the vibrations were buzzing lightly at a fast speed. It was not a very pleasant sensation. She hated dancing, but tentatively tried swiveling her hips around a little. As soon as her hips tilted, she felt the vibrations quickly get stronger then subside just as quickly. The squid must have some sort of position sensor like a video game controller.

She tried shaking faster and found that the vibrator kept in sync with her motions. As soon as her right hip would rise, she was rewarded with more sensation--only for a fraction of a second. If she swayed or rolled back the other way, then the sensation ramped back up immediately. She tried holding still in rebellion and the light buzzing just kept humming away. It was an annoying and frustrating feeling with an itchy tickle quality like a bug crawling on her skin. Of course, it wouldn't stop. She would have to dance to get an orgasm and stop the squid.

She tried an assortment of movements, but the most effective was to roll her hips around various ways back and forth. She kept searching for a rhythm that would keep the squid going so that she could get off. She started humming to herself, trying to think of a catchy dance tune which matched the needed rhythms. She had put the hot lube out of her mind before, but it was reminding her it was still going strong now. The movement seemed to stir it back up again.

After nearly 20 minutes, she was a sweating mess and was getting tired, but it was working. She was dancing a complicated motion. It was easier to dance all-out, involving her arms and legs to offset her gyrations. She wouldn't be in a music video, but didn't care. She didn't need to step that much to get results so could find a comfortable stance for the high heels and soon they were a non-factor. Suddenly she realized that she was following an age-old pattern--a belly dance. Could the squid be that sophisticated?

Her brain instantly ran away with the idea. She let go of any inhibitions. No one could see her anyways. She felt like some wanton harem girl turned desperate whore through control and deprivation--constantly watched by eunuchs and not allowed to climax without her master's permission. She was dancing her heart out for the Sultan now, begging for his attentions. She stared into his eyes urging him on with all her charms. The fantasy was working. She was getting closer. Finally, it happened. The Sultan would be hers tonight. She convulsed outside with her dance while her insides convulsed around their silicone invader. After it was over, she nearly collapsed from the exertion, but her love muscles still clinched tight on the squid as if they didn't quite know how to stop. She gasped as a second wave of pleasure swept over her.

She caught her breath for a couple minutes, then realized she was on the clock again and wasting her precious rest time. She returned to examining the release catch for the phallus. Sure enough, it was in a different position and slid up higher than usual. She pushed down. It was hard to move. She tried again with both hands and it slid. The arms lifted smoothly like some weight was pulling them back up. Obviously there was some kind of sophisticated mechanism inside. When the arms returned to their upright position, there was another click. She tried pushing down on them again and they were locked back securely.

The shoes were next in her thoughts. Old frustrations returned and she fought down the urge to try to wrestle them off her feet. She knew it would be pointless and leave her even more frustrated. How did they lock closed, damn it...DAMN IT? She tried the same staring technique. She just stared at the area on the chair where her feet were. Something about that area had something to do with it. Soak time. The shoes didn't just lock on their own. The stone on the front of the chair seemed odd. She looked closer. How obvious now. The stone near where her feet would go was different. It was subtle, but it was not the same stone. She recognized it from the museum, but where? She must have seen something like it in the geology exhibit.

Sue was slowly getting exhausted. She normally would be sleeping by now. She had cleaned out her office snack stash earlier. Now she was starved and feeling a little light-headed. She knew she would get a terrible headache soon if she didn't eat. By the time lockdown mode ended, she would only have a couple hours before she was due back in to work again for her normal shift. She wouldn't be able to get home and back even if she dared drive with the hot lube.

She planned out an approach. She had enough time to get upstairs to the museum snack bar before they closed with 3 orgasms on the way. She would head down the hall and up the elevator then straight to the ladies' room off the main lobby and hide in a stall. Next, she would wait for the squid to finish and then head down to the snack counter restroom. After the squid finished again, she would get her food and rush back to the main ladies' room, one more orgasm and then back down to her office. The food might be cold, but she didn't care. She just had to decide whether a side trip to the geology wing was worth the attempt. It wasn't that far off the main hall.




The Curator Ch. 04



As soon as she was passed the custodian, she realized that she had been noticeably dripping with sweat. She reluctantly used the sleeve of her nice cashmere sweater to wipe her brow. She should look normal now; the black tights should hide the sweat and the sweater was too thick to easily soak through. Sue stood up straight, took a breath, and continued back towards the lobby.

She forgot to check her watch so couldn't time the 10 minutes. At least 2 minutes had to have gone by before she left the snack bar. Walking fast was difficult. After the long hours, she was getting sleepy and tired with her full belly. Her feet were wobbly in the lusterite heels as she worked her sore and tired muscles in a different dance of forward momentum, surprised at how quickly her legs and hips tightened up while sitting.

Passed the learning center, she started looking for the turn to the geology wing as she ignored the meteor cases along the main corridor. The timer had already turned off the lights so the meteors now just looked like hunks of black rock in shadow. Her heart sank; her intern, Cindy, and the museum artist/cosmetologist Maya were coming the opposite way.

She liked Maya. Maya had redone all of the mannequins in the Nuymean room with historically accurate make-up a month or so ago. She was very precise and matched the few historical depictions while filling in the rest with tasteful and elegant details. She even used authentic pigments and materials taken from inscriptions transcribed by Dr. Barnes. The Nuymeans were fantastically detailed in matters of beauty and obsessed with jungle plants, beauty treatments, make-up formulas and all manner of botanical aids. In fact, they were the only ancient people who could make a paper-like sheet, termed paperi-veli, for writing that did not rot and survived the jungle climate. An artist by trade, Maya also studied a little archaeology and a little anthropology. She was the real deal, an educated artist.

Cindy, however, was a different story. She took care of the daytime duties just fine, but she was exactly the kind of person Sue didn't like: a former popular cheerleader, stuck-up, fantastic looking and self-confident. She didn't care much about archaeology and was in fact a Psychology major. She took the internship in order to work on her Master's thesis, Societal Accommodation of Aberrant Sexual Behavior. Exactly the kind of condescending, judgmental attitude that Sue saw with every move Cindy made. Sue was desperate to find someone willing to take the low pay so hired her, but she didn't trust her and didn't give her access to any of the secured Nuymean artifacts in the basement. Besides, after she was done with her thesis, she would be out of here like a shot.

Cindy and Maya were talking away. Well, Cindy was talking away and Maya was mostly listening. Cindy didn't realize that even though Sue had bad eyesight there was nothing wrong with her hearing. She heard the snide comments as they approached. Voices carry really far in the old tile and stone hallways of the museum. Cindy sneered for a second and talked sideways towards Maya. "Looks like the four-eyed muffin is trying out new fashions."

Maya might have hesitated, maybe. "I think it's an improvement." It sounded mostly sincere to Sue.

Cindy countered instantly, "Better than before, I guess, but what's with those heels?"

"Little does she know," thought Sue as they closed distance in the hall. They quieted down and switched to small talk, assuming Sue was now in earshot. They met up. "Thanks for covering for me earlier," Cindy said with a touch of insincerity.

"I'm glad you're alright," Sue replied with a precisely matched touch of insincerity.

Before Sue knew it, Cindy was relating all the details of her fender bender like it was one of life's great tribulations. Talk also jumped back and forth to how her new boyfriend Hank worked at the autobody shop. Sue knew from the constant parade of boyfriends what would happen. Once her car was done and any discounted bills were paid, he'd get a couple more sympathy dates before he was yet another set of ignored voicemails. He might get laid if he plays his cards right and he would certainly remember it for the rest of his life. She wished him luck. As Cindy babbled on, Maya stood by politely, but Sue caught her occasional eye roll.

Suddenly Sue heard a beep from her bag. It wasn't her phone. It must be the remote. There was no way she could pull it out to check. It would raise too many questions instantly. The white plastic looked more medical than cell phone or tech gadget. She had no idea what it would be beeping about. Cindy paused in her story for a moment in reaction then kept going like nothing happened. Did she need to breathe? After about half a minute or so, the remote beeped again. Cindy looked like she might say something but still kept right on going about the other driver, the cute cop and the bitch female cop. At least the fact that Cindy got a ticket was a small vindication. Once again there was a beep, then Sue finally had a chance to explain how she had an experiment running and the timer was telling her she needed to get back down check it.

Cindy seemed to accept that excuse and Maya seemed to feel spared. They made some polite good-byes and left as the remote beeped again. Sue wondered what was going on. She was clearly past the 10 minute mark, but the squid was still as a rock. The lobby was still a ways off and she didn't want to attempt making it to her planned lobby restroom. Her choice about stopping in the geology wing was made for her. She checked that Maya and Cindy were not watching and then turned down the side hall just as the remote beeped yet again.

As soon as she was far enough away, she snuck a look at the display on the remote. It said, "Plug in headphones to continue." What? She checked the remote and there was no evident headphone jack. She tried to scroll back, but it was difficult while walking and she wanted to be far out of sight first. Walking faster, she was a little winded. Her sweater was too warm up on this floor. Rocks didn't need much climate control and the geology wing seemed like an oven in comparison to the basement. Damn the hot lube, it had a way of heating up just when she thought she was used to it enough to put it out of her mind. It fuelled the heat rising within her as she kept going.

The geology wing was so quiet it was starting to get a little creepy. She walked past the "Wing closed, please visit again" sign. She knew that it would be another hour or two before they actually started to close the gates and lock up. She remembered a restroom further down. It should be a safe place to hide. Suddenly, she felt a sharp electric jolt inside her from the squid and heard a beep from the remote. Where did that come from? How far would this thing push her? She hurriedly grabbed the remote out of her purse. The display was blinking: Insert headphones immediately. The lockdown time was still the same, but she didn't want to take any chances. Her iPod and earbuds were buried somewhere in her purse, thankfully.

She checked the remote again more carefully, but there was no place for a headphone jack. She felt a slight pulse "downstairs." She was afraid to touch herself and risk further time penalties, but there was clearly something going on. She felt around a little and found a cord hanging in her slit--apparently attached to one of the tentacles. Come on! She knew that they could fit half a dozen functions on a microchip the size of pin these days, but a headphone jack was hanging out of her pussy. Really? What else could she do? She could barely see the end of the wire, but it looked like some kind of special jack with silicone seals. She plugged the earbuds into her wired pussy.

The display changed saying "Fugue." She put in the ear buds. The cord just reached. She heard the faint sounds of Ravel's Bolero starting up. None of this was in the manual she had read--not that she had alternatives. Now that she wasn't walking, Sue scrolled back and found that the remote had prompted her for input followed by a countdown timer. It had used a default response at the end of the countdown if no response was given. Apparently, the designers took into account that the squid remote might not be under someone's control---especially the person "wearing" it. All the countdowns had expired and all the questions had already been answered for her.

The prompts said, "Program fugue requires activation of advanced options, Activate electrical option?" Yes. There was now a small lightning bolt icon along the top of the display. The next prompt said, "Activate false orgasm?" Yes. She had no idea what that meant, but figured it wouldn't be long before she found out. She didn't think she would like it. The next prompt said, "Activate swim massage?" Yes. That one sounded exciting. There was an icon that looked like someone swimming, imagine that. "Activate musical accompaniment?" Yes. Damn. At least music sounded harmless. That would explain the headphone jack.

The last prompt said, "Activate training mode?" Yes. She could guess what that might mean and it didn't sound good. There were two other new icons, one looking like the two bars of the pause symbol, universal to so many electronic devices. The other was something that looked like a book. This wasn't looking good. Each mode had activated and all the modes with icons were optional "advanced user" modes.

As Bolero played, she was starting to feel rising vibrations from the squid. She needed to find a secluded place quickly. She knew the piece was typically about 15 minutes long and the idea was starting to make her horny beyond belief. The "no hands" symbol was on the display. The vibrations where precisely orchestrated with the music.

There was a small offshoot from the main hall to the right. She remembered it was a dead end into a round room. She should be able to hide around the side. The room had hundreds of small catalogued rock samples showing a profile of mountain ranges including the Rockies, Appalachians, Urals, Andes and Himalayas.

Sue sat down on the floor, careful to make sure she was out of sight of the main hall. She spread her legs since it felt better that way. She sat on her hands to make sure she wasn't tempted to touch her now forbidden regions. It was time for her to relax and enjoy. The nervous tension of being caught was there, but she wasn't going to give it much attention. Nothing she could do to stop the squid or her body from responding regardless.

The squid was building. At first, it just used vibration. As the music continued it was rising steadily in volume. The squid slowly introduced other features. Before long, it was twisting tentacles here and there. More advanced vibration modes were kicking in after that. It would have short bursts of very fast speed or strong deep pulses. All the ministrations it used were perfected timed, which meant that the slow build up of the music and corresponding sensation was driving her absolutely nuts. She could predict the build-up rate based on her knowledge of the music and it was clearly way too slow for her liking. She was getting majorly teased. It was also relentless. If she was already feeling this way, and the song wasn't even 1/3 of the way done, what was it going to be like near the end? She didn't know if she could make it that long.

The squid started to enlarge and shrink its head. The burning from the lube felt like it was spreading through her whole body. She suddenly realized her own moisture was one of the triggers for the lube to heat up. She was tired and knew she should have made the association long ago.

Just as she felt a climax was approaching, the squid would back down again only to slowly surge back up to the level it had been. She slouched further down on the floor rocking back and forth in small rolling motions out of sheer natural response. She was completely absorbed in the music and the feeling at this point. Yes, that's the key. Concentrate on the music.

The squid started expanding and contracting its tentacles along with enlarging and shrinking its head. It was done in a fluid movement surging from top to bottom with various unpredictable speeds. This must be the swim massage. It was just short of painful in how far it expanded and pushed at the head only to stretch her further down at the tentacles with a sudden flick--while she was still feeling the relief of her tunnel relaxing from the head shrinking. The feeling was indescribable. It made her want to moan and scream. She was practically biting her tongue.

The swim massage was too much for her, she switched from sitting to lying down on her back and started writhing on the floor, desperate to use her hands. She crossed her arms under her to prevent any accidents. There was a crash of cymbals in the music which was punctuated by faint electric shock in her pussy. Instantly, she started to orgasm. Just as instantly the squid stopped all simulation. She had a very weak orgasm, more like an afterimage, that was completely unfulfilling. She clenched her teeth and suppressed a scream of frustration. She now knew what the false orgasm mode was all about. As soon as her meager contractions stopped, the squid started back up again. It was mercifully gradual, but ramped up to full blown swim massage in no time at all--but too late for the right moment.

Her body was responding in a way she had not experienced before. She did not feel drained or sensitive from the pitiful orgasm, but her level of arousal and responsiveness was reduced. It was harder for her to build back up to the same level. It was like she was being held back from approaching the brink. The squid didn't care. The music kept building. She was feeling more of a total sensation throughout her body now. All parts of her body from the neck down were tensing up on edge waiting for a release that held back somehow. She was feeling a building desperation now to come like her life depended on it.

The cymbals were crashing again and she was feeling them punctuated by sharper and sharper shocks that still didn't bring release. She was being tormented. The squid knew exactly how to keep her from reaching release. She wondered how many calculations a second it was doing to stay ahead of her. Just as she was thinking about giving up and accepting that she would only be teased from here on out, the squid ramped up the level of sensation. It didn't back off anymore.

The added intensity was enough. She was starting to build back up towards climax. In fact, she didn't think she could stop it now. This was going to be a huge orgasm...if she was allowed to experience it. Bolero would be coming to an end soon and she'd soon know if the squid would continue until she climaxed or if it would stop at the end of the song. Would she be able to come before the music was over? Would "false orgasm" mode ice her fires? Please, please, please..... She needed it so bad at this point...p-l-e-a-s-e. There was no other way for her to romanticize it to herself. Her body was acting like a machine that she had no control over. Most of the intellectual element was gone and this was all about the animal side she didn't know she had. The crescendo was complete and Ravel's orchestrations were madly blaring out their final peak.

The squid still waited with the patience of programmed electronics. Only when the precise moment and the matching data gave the right indication would it flip the right switch. Sue arched her back in a tense spasm. She let loose a guttural groan of pure uninhibited pleasure as she rode the crest of a gigantic wave. The squid head was fully inflated and stayed that way while the tentacles let out an electric shock exactly on the edge between pain and pleasure. Her vagina convulsed with a confused oscillation ranging from the tightness of trying to push out the overly large invader just beneath her cervix to the 60 hertz pulse of electricity in the center of her sex.

Sue suddenly realized that she was holding her breath while the squid was forcing her muscles to continue. She made an effort to breathe that resulted only in strained short gasps of air while she tried to hold back the tension in her body. The electricity was overriding her natural muscle control and was making her continue to orgasm well past anything she had ever experienced naturally. It was turning into torture. She wanted to stop desperately. She tried to relax, but all she could do was continue to arch her body, writhe around some, clench her muscles and try not to hold her breath. The electricity had more control than she did. She didn't own her body at this moment. She was starting to feel faint and could see the associated blackness closing in from the side of her vision when the squid finally released her and shut off the electricity.

The residual contractions were painful. Her muscles screamed in continued protest as she gasped to regain control of her breath. She didn't even notice that the music had ended. Her body didn't care. The remote displayed, "Training results: 5% rating. One minute extra rest granted." 



The Curator Ch. 05



Chapter 5: If the Shoe Fits

Sue recovered quicker than she might have expected. She didn't even notice the earbud wire was dangling loose and the headphone jack tentacle was gone. Unfortunately, she was sure it took at least 3 minutes for her to get it together. She continued further into the geology wing in a bit of a just fucked mental haze. With all the added modes, she was stressing about her predicament. The squid had ridiculous technology she would have never suspected was available. She didn't know how much longer she could stand it. She wanted to head straight for sanctuary in her basement office to wait out the lockdown mode, but instead fought down the panic. The fugue must have been one of the tougher programs. Surely most of the features were already activated. The museum would be closing soon and Bill would be gone before long. She was better off waiting before making the trip through the lobby.

Finding the main section of the geology wing didn't take long. It was bigger than she remembered. Thousands of rocks, minerals and crystals were displayed in rows of glass cases. Trying to isolate the rock used in the chair was going to be more difficult than she thought. She knew the fundamentals: sedimentary, igneous and metamorphic. The rock of the chair was clearly hard and strong, mostly likely igneous or metamorphic. The hot lube reminded her she wasn't here just to browse. She was on a mission with limited time. Dr. Graebel surprised her as she started looking at the labels.

"Hello Sue, you seem like you are looking for something in particular," he said in his soft, smooth, voice.

Dr. Graebel was an institution of his own at the museum. He was the only remaining adjunct scientist brought in during the last major expansion of the museum, way before Sue was even born. He flew jet fighters in Mig Alley during the Korean War. Whatever his past, Dr. Graebel always seemed like a kindly old man to her. She was worried what the squid might have in store for her in a few minutes, but knew that this was also an opportunity. Dr. Graebel was part-time now and seldom available. She was lucky to find him here. If anyone could help her, it would be him.

"Hello Dr. Graebel, it's been a while," Sue replied trying to seem casual and unhurried.

"Please, Martin, we're both colleagues and past formalities I should think."

Sue nodded and smiled. "I forgot just how many samples you have here."

"Don't worry, I know every one of them--as long as I have my glasses on." He laughed.

"I know what you mean, my prescription is measured in pounds instead of diopters."

Martin laughed with her. "I like to close up the wing myself. It's a little ritual I have to keep an old man happy. It helps to remind me why I'm here and that I'm part of something bigger than myself. That's the only reason to do something like this with one's life." He paused as if considering his own words. "You're welcome to look around. I don't need to lock up right away. Is there anything in particular you were looking for?"

Sue figured she might as well cut to the chase. She felt safe enough around Dr. Graebel. "I've found some new stone in the Nuymean artifacts. I think I've seen it before."

"Intriguing. Very Intriguing. Stone would have been laborious to obtain in their jungle homeland from what I understand. The location is along an ancient stable tectonic fault though--more than enough possibilities for something undiscovered. Most people don't realize how many unique forms of stone are actually out there. Some mineral forms come from only one place on the whole planet."

Sue felt that familiar feeling of scientific intrigue and curiosity that drove her to her chosen profession. "I don't have any specific samples other than found on the artifacts themselves."

"That's not a problem. I worked with Dr. Barnes years ago. In fact, we were pretty good friends; I'd like to think. We should start in the NSD room this way. I think I have an idea what stone you might have found."

Sue always found the "Not Suitable for Display" rooms and hidden collections more intriguing than the polished, lighted and labeled items put out for the public. Like most museums, 99% of the National Museum's collection was not on display. This was the real museum to her. "Let the field scientists bring the items to her" was her knew stance on career. She would make her discoveries on her own terms.

Martin hit the light switch and an array of benches, shelves and tools flickered into view. The room was dusty with a bit of earthy smell. "We don't use this room much, mostly just storage. Some of the items in here have been sitting for years. All the geological counterparts to the Nuymean holdings are here," said Martin. "There are a few small samples of stone and the like, but I think you will find the larger artifacts along the wall the most interesting...maybe a match with your findings."

Sue's brain was racing. It never occurred to her that Nuymean items would be elsewhere in the museum. There were some broken stone carvings that looked like they came from temple walls. Nothing was as nice as the ones down in the Nuymean storage area, but they were clearly Nuymean nonetheless. In their condition, she could see why most of the items weren't of archaeological interest, but rather were geologically interesting. One item, however, caught her attention as if it called out to her. She knew there was something special about it instantly.

Near the wall was a large stone artifact clearly made of the same stone as the chair. It had a large rounded base tapering up into what would best be described as a round ball. The top of the ball widened into a saddle-like area on top. It reminded her of the inflatable exercise balls at the gym. From one side of the ball a thicker projection stood out like a neck. Of course, the Nuymeans would not have seen a horse, but it still reminded her of one. In fact, it had some resemblance to one of the bouncy rubber hobby horses kids ride, at least in a remote sense.

The horse was covered in carvings, obviously Nuymean in origin, but looked worn and weathered. There were chips all over the place. In the "saddle" area, the stone was polished and smooth like the body contours of her favorite chair downstairs. Unfortunately, this one had been vandalized. A large reconstructed area was on top. She recognized the patching material. In modern equivalent, it would be an epoxy, but the Nuymeans made it from stone dust and some kind of plant resin. It was hard as concrete. She matched up the locations and realized the patching was located where a phallus mount point might have been. This was another stimulation device!

Martin gave her a moment to look around and watched her study the horse. "Dr. Barnes believed it to be one of the training devices vandalized in the Nuymean fall."

At first, Sue wasn't sure what he was talking about then it flooded back. It was one of the first things she read when she first got the job, but had almost forgotten about it since in the volumes of reading she had done. She had read Dr. Barnes theory of the Nuymean fall. Some unknown group attacked the Nuymean Priestesses, which were the basis for their culture. They didn't kill them for fear of the gods, but they destroyed many of their sacred artifacts; the very artifacts needed to train a young woman to become a priestess. With no new priestesses, the order would come to an end.

Nuymean culture dictated that once a girl reached the age of adulthood she could commit to the religion. Once such a commitment was made, it was sacred and could not be broken willingly. The candidate was trained rigorously to develop sexual performance and endurance. Her union with the gods upon becoming a priestess would require extraordinary endurance and stamina for her to be worthy. She would need to satisfy beings more than human. The artifacts were thought to be gifts from the gods and there was no substitute. Very few candidates succeeded and were accepted.

It all had seemed pretty out there when she read it and was not wasn't written as a factual account like Dr. Barnes other works. Sue had found it amongst her unshared personal works and didn't know how Dr. Graebel had known of the theory. She hadn't shared the theory as it seemed like a work in progress with a lot of speculation.

"I didn't know anyone else knew of that theory. I only found it in Dr. Barnes personal notes," she replied.

"I discussed it extensively with her. Some of these artifacts were part of the basis for her theory. She called it a theory, but the evidence is clearly there. If it wasn't a deliberate attack on the priestesses, then what else could it have been? The patina on the stone indicates the damaged areas are of an age corresponding to the Nuymean fall."

Sue knew there were a few pieces that didn't match up though. Some evidence that the priestesses were still actively creating new written works some 100 years later existed. She wasn't sure how serious to take some of it.

"I have to go finish closing up. We have quite a few valuable artifacts and a lot of security systems. I'll be back in 20 minutes or so. Feel free to look around. We can see if we can match up that stone when I get back," Martin offered as he headed out the door.

As soon as he left, Sue went straight over to the horse. It was definitely made of the same stone. The way it was made was similar as well. She couldn't help getting a little horny thinking about what it might have been like to "train" like a prospective priestess. She tried to visualize how a young acolyte might use it. Lost in the moment, Sue thought she would try a little more participant archaeology to understand the body orientation needed to use the horse. There was a small foothold on the side. What harm could it be? Martin would never know. She just needed to sit on it for a couple minutes. She didn't see any security cameras in the room. 

Sue stepped into the foothold easily and lifted her leg over the side. As she tried to sit down, the position was immediately difficult. The inclination of the seat was too slanted and she had to brace herself against the "neck." She couldn't find a workable angle for her feet. She kept shifting around then realized it was more like the seat for a jockey. She needed to tuck her legs up really tight into a squatting position. The contour in the stone clearly was a seat though. Her ass fit into it like it was a custom saddle.

After fumbling for a while, she found notches on each side high up near the rear of the saddle. With a lot of effort, she pulled her left foot up to a notch. Her pointed shoe fit easily. She suddenly realized what the shoes were all about. They were for training on devices like this. The phallus chair must have been made specifically for initiation. She wanted to understand the full effect and pulled her other foot into the second notch. Her feet sank in deeply up to the heel with a perfect fit. The natural point of her toes, forced by the shoes, created a perfect alignment for her lower leg. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it seemed like it could have been a natural riding position.

As Sue situated herself further into what seemed like the proper position. The seat still had an uncomfortable lean forward. She struggled to keep upright. She could see that a phallus would have been positioned directly under her, right where it should be--exactly where it should be. The repair was still consistent. The material was contoured, rather precisely, to press up against her intimately. Actually, the pressure was a bit stimulating after a minute or two. The smooth finish of the patch matched up with her anatomically. The smoothness was from wear!

Just then she heard a beep from her purse. Shit! What now? Her purse was on the floor beside the horse. She had set it down absentmindedly. She started to pull her feet out of the notches to get down, but they were held fast. She couldn't move them in the slightest. She was somehow locked in!

The remote beeped again and Sue outright panicked. What if it was going to enable yet another sinister mode? She had to get that remote, but how? She tried bending down to reach it but it was too far away. There was nothing close by to use as tool. She rushed through possible options as quickly as she could think of them with no luck. Suddenly she had an idea, she could hook the purse straps. She started pulling off her sweater and silky undershirt. She needed her bra. The hooks on the back should work. The fear of Martin returning to find her and what the squid had in store with the next prompt combined to generate a new level of frantic. Her heart was pounding.

She bent one of her bra strap hooks, wincing at the pain in her fingers, then snagged the purse strap on her second try. She laid her sweater, shirt and bra across her lap in front and set the purse on top while she braced against the neck: success. The remote said, "Press 1 to confirm seated riding position. Once confirmed, you must remain seated for entire program." It must be that the sensors in the squid detected her unusual position, but what did it have in store now?

She selected "1" in fear that it might try to force her to stand up or even punish her otherwise. The display changed to "Fox Hunt." The door behind her opened with a clunk. She jumped in surprise causing her balanced clothes and purse to slip from her lap. The contents of her purse spilled out with a clatter while her cell phone skittered across the floor. She stared in disbelief then looked right up into Martin's eyes as the squid started up with a deep throbbing vibration. Sue was mortified. 

Sue awkwardly tried to cover her naked breasts with her hands, but still needed one hand to keep from falling forward. She could only support herself upright for a few moments without bracing her arm on the neck. It was simply too difficult for her sedentary muscles. She palmed her left breast with her right hand and tried to use her forearm to cover her right one.

Martin barely paused as he came closer. The door closer pulled the heavy metal door shut with another clunk and then a click. Sue felt like a rabbit caught in headlights--fast moving headlights--right towards her. She scrambled to think if anything embarrassing was in her purse. She had dropped the remote who-knows-where and didn't see it. She could only imagine what the "Fox Hunt" program would do. It was a nightmare of embarrassment. "Dr. Graebel, I was only trying to..."

He cut her off with a short wave of his hand, as if it was nothing. "Dr. Barnes tried much the same thing only she did it completely in the nude...it was the '60s after all," he said with a shrug. "She was serious about re-creating the Nuymean training. Now they would call it 'participant archaeology,' to us it was just experimentation. Did your feet lock into the holds?"

Sue nodded meekly not finding any words.

"I'm glad you can get past your inhibitions. You'll find out a lot more if you are willing to try things yourself and use techniques as authentic as possible. It took Dr. Barnes a couple weeks to work up the nerve. You should find that your intimate parts are pressed firmly against the stone. If a phallus was mounted there you would be quite penetrated. Hard to imagine how many hours the young women spent secured to this apparatus hoping for a chance to reach enlightenment with the Nuymean gods."

Sue gasped as the squid head swelled inside her.

"That's it," encouraged Martin. "Let your imagination lead the way. Feel what they would have felt. I'll leave you there for a while so that you can...get the full experience. I have to go down to close the main gate to the wing and lock up. I'll be back in a while. The front door leads to a state-of-the-art security system and the back door is a steel fire door so you'll have privacy here."

Sue tried to say something, but nothing came out of her mouth. She wanted to ask him not to leave her alone, but at the same time being alone was exactly what she needed until the squid was done. She couldn't believe he was going to leave her here and was so....so, unimpressed.

Martin gathered up her clothes and the contents of her purse and put them on one of the worktables--far away out of reach. Her bra was still hooked to the purse. "You didn't need your cell phone. I was coming back. Just relax and let things happen."

He came over to her and stood very close. Her breath was getting faster, but it wasn't just nervousness of Martin's proximity, anyone that close when you're half naked and bound, even if just topless, creates a rush. Instead, it was the squid starting to create a slight bouncing sensation using the tentacles. It seemed to roll with a consistency not unlike a moving horse might have been. Her clit was feeling a little compressed from the inside pressure of the enlarged squid combined with the outside pressure of her kneeling position forced by the saddle right on her sex.

"There are also handholds on the neck of the horse that complete the position. If you are ready to try the full experience, just insert your hands here." He pointed. "You will find grips down in the openings."

As he left, she felt a sense of relief at being alone, but also a sense of fear. She wasn't going anywhere. She fought against the footholds and immediately knew it was pointless. She had no idea when Martin would return and could only assume he knew how to release her. All she wanted to do was sit on the horse to see how it worked. Now, she was half naked and trapped, fake stone pressing again her sex, horny and waiting for some stranger to help her. She was beginning to wonder if there was a Nuymean curse.

At the same time she was feeling pressure to have some professional pride. Her ego wanted to show him that she could do something like this. If the Nuymean women were locked into the handholds and she didn't duplicate the same circumstances, then she wasn't exactly going after the most accurate "data" in her re-creation. Martin's critical scientific mind would also think she chickened out. After all, Dr. Barnes had done the same thing.

Her mind raced, trying to decide, while the squid seemed to puff its head like the body of a breathing horse. The tentacles seemed to move in crude approximation of the legs and body of a horse moving. With the pressure of the stone underneath her, the tentacles seemed to have some kind of mechanical advantage and their stimulation was strengthened. The movement seemed to be designed to use pressure from the saddle underneath.

She rolled a little with the motion. Her tights were not all that different from horseback riding breeches. She started to indulge a mental fantasy that she was a naughty young heiress out for a ride. This was her Victorian salvation, an outlet for her sexual needs. She started rubbing and grinding her sex into the stone to the rhythm like it was a saddle on a mighty beast surging underneath her. The squid just kept pumping out the same rhythm. Her lustful desires were rapidly overcoming her inhibitions and made the decision for her. She was ready to run the steeplechase. If she put her hands into the holds, it would be like holding reins. The thought of being restrained that way caused an erotic thrill that spread right up from her crotch to her chest. She would ride the ride. The Victorian Miss would feel the lust of an otherwise repressed sexuality. She knew that the impulsiveness was not like her, but her inhibitions seemed to be working backwards lately. The more something seemed like a bad idea then the more she wanted to do it.

Sue put her left hand into the holds and heard a click. She felt something wide and metal snap tightly around her wrist. After a shallow breath, she followed by placing her right hand into the remaining hold with dutiful follow-through. She wasn't sure why, but didn't think she could have stopped if she had tried. She wanted to feel what it was like too strongly to resist. Sue was trapped. Only then did she remember she was bare-chested. Years of conditioning to hide herself came into play and she desperately fought to pull her hands free. She thought about it for a minute longer and then just shrugged at her own ridiculousness. Martin would be back to release her and he already saw everything there was to see--her marked bosom with its perky anxious nipples.




The Curator Ch. 06



Chapter 6: History Repeats Herself

Martin spoke first while Sue's face started to turn beet red. "Bravo! You managed to activate it!"

Charlie was equally excited. "Maggie Barnes was the only other woman to get it to engage--modern woman I should say."

Sue was completely conscious of being bare-chested and sweaty from her lustful exertions. She couldn't believe she lost control like that. What was I thinking? Sue just wanted off the horse and to get dressed. She couldn't remember being more embarrassed. "I think I've had enough for now though."

"You can't stop now," said Martin. "You need to continue the training rite."

"No really, I think I want down now," Sue said firmly. "Can you push the release catch please?"

"You don't understand. You've activated the horse. The catch will not work now until you have finished the whole rite."

This was turning into a nightmare. Sue had a sinking feeling about what that rite might involve. She tried pulling at her hands without them noticing. They didn't budge. She wanted to start pulling with all her might and fight to escape, but knew it would just be futile and embarrassing. Hundreds or more other women would have already tried. At least she could try to keep some dignity.

"You've completed one climax. Like with everything else, the Nuymeans followed their sacred number of 9. Now you need to have 8 more for the horse to tip back and the release catch to work. The Nuymeans understood how some trainees might be reluctant. The rite is considered sacred. They didn't want its sanctity disrupted by young women having a change of heart and running off in the middle. They also didn't want any trainees to cheat out on the full intensity of the training. Most of all, Nuymean training is about complete and full commitment."

Charlie picked up where Martin left off. "Maggie was stuck on the horse for well over a day the first time. It was a happy accident that she found the stone stimulating enough to climax 8 more times for release. We were about ready to take a chisel to the stone even if it is a priceless artifact."

Martin seemed to be reflecting. "But once she had the routine, she trained daily. She considered daily training essential if she was to be a priestess and have any hope of passing the third rite."

Sue realized that devices like this horse must have been used to build up the sexual endurance of the young trainees. Oddly, she was getting horny again just thinking about the women being trapped on a horse like this every day, day in and day out, with full devotion to their cause or perhaps because their parents committed them to it out of a sense of duty. Only a select few would make it.

"I'm not sure what you mean about completing the trials," she said.

Martin replied with a lecturing voice like he was addressing a classroom. "The last of the 3 rites involves a trial by the gods--an intimate, sexual, trial. The goal was to prove worthiness and devotion amongst many other things. The young candidates would train rigorously from the time they were of age until they attempted the final rite on the winter solstice, the sacred time of death and the passing of the old. Failures could be quite...unpleasant...if the gods felt insulted. Modern women seldom push themselves sexuo-physically to near the level of the Nuymeans. They were like Olympic athletes of sexual fitness. Dr. Barnes doubted whether any modern woman would ever be capable of passing the rites."

"How hard did she try?" asked Sue.

"Whole-heartedly," Martin continued, "you might understand if you complete the rite authentically. If nothing else you'll have some real experience to help guide your studies." He held up one of the Nuymean gags. "Remember, it's a sacred rite. No begging, screaming or vocalizations to disturb the solemnity. It should be like meditation. Instead of focusing on your breathing like so many other techniques, you focus on your...body. Don't worry, the headpiece is not permanent like the shoes. Remember, full commitment."

Sue looked in shock. It was a full head harness with the smooth flat metal connectors like the shoes. Surely he couldn't expect her to go along with it: not that she had much choice. She thought about resisting, but then questioned whether she was already involved in something sacred. What did she really believe? Did she care if she might upset some ancient gods? It didn't matter. She was participating and would do everything to its fullest. This was science and all the details needed to be right and all the proper steps taken. She really wasn't just doing this for the thrill of it. She really did want to learn something. The proper process would help give this all meaning to her in the end.

"Before I finish setting you up, I want to ask you if you felt anything strange earlier when you got on the horse," queried Martin.

"Aren't we supposed to quiet like in Church or something? What do you mean, something strange?"

"The Nuymeans just cared about the proper respect to the gods. We aren't doing anything they would have found objectionable from what I know of them." Martin continued, "What were you thinking around the time the horse activated?"

Sue thought for a moment, "I don't know, just a fantasy about riding a horse and grabbing the reins."

"You knew the holds would lock your wrists?"

"Yes," admitted Sue, "but I didn't care."

"OK," Martin said, "that's all I need to know." Charlie and Martin exchanged a look which made Sue wonder what they were talking about.

Martin came closer with the gag in hand. He held up the clasps. "The stone gives off a magnetic field that these clasps resonate with. Once closed, they will not release until you are a few feet away from the horse. The stone is full of metal ores and crystals. It's very unique. It's related to pyrrhotite and has the property to store an electrical charge from sunlight like a capacitor--in this case fluorescent light UV serves instead. It's been charging down here nearly every day for years. The electrical buildup causes the magnetic field. It also seems to power the mechanism deep in the stone."

"The other stone you found was probably lighter in color. It contains a high concentration of mineral crystals with piezoelectric qualities. Powered when in contact with the other stone, it can actually throw a powerful electric arc when struck. The dark stone like in the horse is Nuymenite and the lighter piezoelectric stone is Nuymenide. They've never been found anywhere else so have been named after the Nuymeans." He approached her and held up the gag without even asking. Sue didn't know what else she could say or do so did not protest, but she really had a bad feeling about the gag after her last experience with one. What did he mean about "unpleasant" results for failure?

Martin reached up and took off her glasses. "I'll put these over here with your purse." Her world was plunged into blur. He pressed the rubber ball of the gag to her lips then started pulling the straps tight. She could hear the little metal ends click together with a metallic snip. The straps ran from each side of the ball up along each side of her nose then over her head. A main strap ran through the ball and around the back of her head, pulling the ball tightly back into her mouth, passed her teeth. Another strap which ran under her chin pulled it down tight onto her tongue and made it impossible to push out. The harness was very tight and her mouth was stretched uncomfortably; the ball was just a little too big. Martin pulled at the straps and confirmed they were held firmly and going nowhere.

Charlie went over to an open drawer, presumably where Martin had obtained the gag. He pulled out a half empty glass jar and set it on a workbench. He then went over near the sink and got some vinyl safety gloves. After putting them on, with the practiced skill of a surgeon, he picked up the jar and came over to her. "At least you mostly fit the dress code, but fully naked would have been more accurate. The Nuymeans had these horses out in the public square for everyone so see. They wanted their priestesses to have no inhibitions left by the time training was done. Part of the process is to break the natural defensive inhibitions women build up from society. By the looks of it, you can progress from novice right away. Besides, there isn't much time." With that he dipped two fingers into the jar. It was filled with a clear, thick, goo of some sort. She didn't see what he had in mind, but it was making her really nervous. What did he mean about not much time?

Charlie casually reached out and started smearing the goo on her left nipple. She wanted to thrash around in protest and panic, but he had a way about him and she was resigned to the ritual. She felt like he might just spank her like an unruly child if she didn't hold still. Her tongue was already going numb in the gag. She recognized the herbal taste. She would have to ask them about it. They probably knew how it worked. She was a bit surprised just how much they knew in fact. Martin is a colleague and another scientist, but Charlie is a security guard. How did he fit in?

Sue was very conscious of her lewdly displayed ass spread on top of the horse while she was forced to lean forward like some kind of motorcycle magazine bikini model. A chunky one with small tits and a bad nose she reminded herself. The idea was made her feel slutty and reminded her that the squid was patiently ticking away the time with its little microprocessor.

Charlie rubbed the goo in thoroughly. Her nipple responded to the cold gel and hardened. As he repeated the process on her other breast, he told her, "Dr. Barnes considered this gel to be the most stimulating. It was her favorite. The Nuymeans were very underappreciated as practitioners of herbal medicine. I suspect the jars downstairs contain formulas which would be worth millions to a pharmaceutical company. Dr. Barnes managed to reconstruct many of their formulas with the help of the late Dr. Ferro. No one knew botanicals like Ferro. The ingredients would probably be very difficult to obtain now. It was challenging enough back then before so much of the rain forest was lost."

After each nipple and areola was treated thoroughly, Charlie went behind her. He reached around her waist from behind and pulled the waistband of her tights out. Half of her wanted to cry out in outrage while the other half wanted to moan with desire. Either way, she felt a flush of sexual response--it surprised her how strong it was. His other hand went around her hip on the opposite side. She could feel his chest press against her back. He worked his hand down towards her sex and started to smear more of the goo directly on her, working it into her slit and surrounding mons, with a knowing touch. She involuntarily struggled to protest at the rather rigorous application, but couldn't move enough for her protests to be effective in any way. Her folded legs were pointed towards the floor, uselessly, knees down. The wide metal bands around her wrists prevented any attempt at all to free her hands. They felt glued to the stone. She switched from struggling to pull them out to grabbing the grips inside the holds and squeezing tight.

"I'm glad you have shaved properly," he said. Sue was once again mortified. She shaved her pussy regularly, but it still seemed like a slutty thing to do. At first it was to hide any evidence of pubic hair she could have left on the phallus chair in the basement. It was too hard to make sure there was none. After a while, she got used to the feeling. Now it was just like shaving her legs or brushing her teeth and just a regular part of her hygiene. Besides, she couldn't stand the itchiness when the hair started to grown back.

As he stepped away, she could feel her nipples and areolas starting to itch painfully. "The formula contains stinging nettles amongst other things, but the unpleasant feelings will stop soon," Charlie said.

She fought to suck in a big gasp of air when the sensations started on her clit. The itchy sensation was outrageous. The forgotten hot lube seemed to plug into the neural circuit as well. It still burned with the same fire, but she had adjusted to it somewhat--or so she thought. Between her vagina's burn and the insane itching of her clit, she was near climax already. She wanted to claw at herself desperately and was pulling at the wrist restraints like the building was on fire. All she could do was to try to grind herself into the stone of the horse, but she couldn't seem to satisfy the itch. It was like insects were biting her and she couldn't brush them away.

Martin came over next with a saddle-like vinyl seat that had a large curved metal horn in the middle. There was an electrical cord hanging from it. "Maggie found this somewhere. She extracted it from some kind of 1960s sex seat. I think they call something similar a Sybian today. You can change the main stimulator in the middle. This seat is decades old, but made rather well---good solid American-made hardware. I think you will find that it helps you get the next 8 climaxes much more easily. We need to have you out of here before the morning shift comes in. Besides, you'd probably wear a hole in your tights rubbing against the stone if you kept going as you are now."

She definitely didn't want the seat. The squid would be going off soon enough and would make sure she had her full 8, but they didn't know that. She tried to fight it and not lift up. She kept shaking her head "no." They ignored her. Suddenly, she felt a really hard slap that shuddered through her whole body. It surprised the fuck out of her and hurt like hell. She bucked up in reflex the couple of inches that she could move and Martin quickly forced the seat under her, lifting her up even higher with a grab to her ass from behind. The protruding mechanism of the horn was pressing firmly on the front of her crotch, the concave shape cupping her mound. She looked over her shoulder but could only see a blur that looked like Charlie out of the corner of her eye. It looked like he was putting his heavy security guard belt back on.

"Sorry about that," he apologized. "You really need to get over your prissiness."

She could hear the familiar sound of tape behind unwound. Martin came back with duct tape and secured the saddle in place underneath her. With the extra height of the saddle, she was pressed firmly into it with effectively no space to lift up, pinned. The cupped metal horn intimately embracing her. The curve of it rose up the front of her slit to press against her swollen clit and the whole area all around it. Even if she tried to move away from it side-to-side, it was wide enough that it would remain touching her. The curved metal may as well have been belted on, her body weight pressing her down on it. She just didn't have the leg strength to pick herself up while in the tight bend.

"I pushed the release clasp already," consoled Martin. "When you have completed your training rite, it will turn back upright and release you automatically. Don't get so lost in the experience that you forget you are a participant observer. Pay attention and you might make a discovery. No one has done this in probably 20 years and before that probably over 1000 years."

Charlie picked up the switch on the power cord and turned the dial three clicks. Sue immediately felt her pussy erupt in vibration. It shook her whole body. The sensation was intense. If she hadn't just climaxed a few minutes ago, she would have then. She felt it vibrate clear up her belly.

Charlie seemed to have a detached tone to his voice. "It will follow a wave pattern. The vibrations will die down to almost nothing and then ramp up for about 10 minutes. If you don't climax on the up cycle of the wave, then you'll need to wait for the next upsurge."

Sue barely heard him. The itching and stinging was already starting to subside, but there was an aftereffect. Her nipples were staying proud and hard. In fact, they seemed to be swelled up obscenely. She actually longed to touch them, but could not. He clit was even worse. It felt like a hard nub pressed against the seat. Her labia were also swollen. She thought her entrance might actually be swollen and open in lust. She felt every little sensation multiplied. Even more peculiar, the warmth in her ass from the belt strike was starting to feel good to her.

She heard Martin say, "Are you sure she's ready?" It wasn't directed at her.

Charlie responded, "She'll have to be."

The next thing she felt was a rough string around her right nipple. She tried to look but it was all a blur of hands. A loop closed around it tightly. After the loop was tight, she felt it tug harshly downward and squeeze tighter. Something heavy was hanging from her nipple by a loop of rough twine. She shook her upper body slightly to assess what was going on. She could feel the weight swing. It hurt enough that she wouldn't be trying that again. She could feel the twine constricting blood flow in her already hard nipple. The sensation was painful and stimulating at the same time. If she could, she would have ripped the weight off her, but in her current predicament all she could do was endure it.

When the second weight was added, she felt like her whole upper body was being pulled downwards. She wanted to slouch forward. If she did so, the curved horn of the saddle would press into her sex more firmly. She could find no relief of pressure by changing her position.

Martin's voice seemed like a voice in a crowd as he said, "We'll leave you to it now. Your clothes, purse and glasses are right here on this workbench." Both Charlie and Martin gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room. What was that about? She wasn't sure what their stake in this was, but it seemed like they took it and her very personally. Martin started to say something to Charlie on his way out. "I think she might be the..." She heard the metal door clang and the room was silent except for the relentless machine beneath her. What was he going to say?

Slow and powerful vibrations continued. She tried everything to shift away from its relentlessness. She bit down hard on the gag in reflex to the overwhelming sensation. There was some kind of beeping coming from down near the floor. The remote was trying to tell her something, but all she could feel was the intense shake of the saddle. It was still ramping up. Charlie used 3 clicks on the control. How strong was that setting?

The squid seemed to be continuing as if nothing else was going on; but if it was vibrating, she didn't know it. The saddle was pulsating half her body and still getting faster. The squid swelled outward for whatever reason its tiny microprocessor determined. The swelling sensation within her was too much. The internal pressure and the vibration pushed her over the edge. The saddle was subsiding in vibration now, but her own internal contractions were trapped between the pressure of the squid and the pressure of sitting on the saddle. She arched her back in reaction and groaned out. The orgasm extended from her bound feet all the way up her legs, spine and neck. Even the slightest hint of leaning back reminded her that her nipples had a burden of their own. As her brain raced between sensations, all she could do was some uncontrollable writhing on the horse trying to relieve anything--anything at all--something to lessen the sensation.



The Curator Ch. 07



Chapter 7: A Horse of a Different Frequency

The time Sue spent on the horse folded into an endless cycle ranging between mindless sensation and being uncomfortably bound, waiting for the slightest change in sensation. Not quite a pain or pleasure situation, but it may as well have been given the effect it was having on her. She was at the mercy of the machines inside and outside her as they drove her up and down. One was just a relentless appliance motoring mindlessly along in its electrical duty. The other was a seemingly confused microprocessor constantly evaluating, adjusting data and trying again on its endless mission to find the perfect formula. The squid's reactions seemed to be affected by the vibrations of the saddle. She would hear a beep once in awhile from the remote somewhere near the floor, but could do nothing about it.

She tried to accept her situation like she did on the phallus chair, enjoyment versus useless resistance. Her body simply had these functions and responses. Nature wants her to enjoy sex so that she will do it again and again to get pregnant and reproduce. It's just that simple, a biological program for survival of the species: at least that's what she told herself.

Sue always believed in the supremacy of the rational mind. Her will should be stronger and she should be the master of her own thoughts despite her body. Whatever she thought wasn't doing her any good now. Her body was steered by the horse and her intellect was just along for the ride. There was no reining this horse back in. Resisting was like trying to fight hunger: your willpower could only last so long before you ate that pint of ice cream. She wasn't like Cindy. Overt sexuality was not part of her self-image or a quality she desired. She was a scientist and scholar, a woman of intellect and rationality. She did not resort to sex as a means to an end. She was the kind of person who could resist the hunger and starve herself to death if needed. The Nuymeans seemed to simply expect overt sexuality like it was an ordinary typical feminine quality. Why? Perhaps the answer was part of their test.

The nettle cream Charlie rubbed into her breasts and pussy was doing its job. Her swollen nipples were driving her crazy with itching and tingling sensations. The constriction of the twine loops further exaggerated the effect. She had learned to minimize her motion to avoid swinging the weights. Her nipples were slightly numb at this point from lack of circulation, but the numbness itself was also a stimulating sensation. Her breasts, as a whole, felt heavy and swollen. She had never thought of them as such an powerfully erogenous part of her body before. She was very conscious of how they were fully on display even though there was no one to see her, but mostly she craved touch. If only someone would rub her breasts, suck her nipples...it would be sooo nice.

Her legs were aching from the tucked position while her arms were getting sore from pushing to keep upright. She couldn't take this much longer and was nearing the point of exhausted collapse. The gag was a mercy in a way. Her jaw ached, but not having the option of speech did take away some of the potentially more embarrassing possibilities. The herbal anesthetic qualities of the rubber, if that's what it is, completely deadened her tongue and even affected her vocal chords as well. It was like a giant sore throat lozenge her tongue couldn't dissolve. She could make no sound at all other than breathing. She was sure she would have been screaming for help or begging for release long ago without the steadfast mouth plug. She suspected that Charlie and Martin knew that would happen and deliberately left her on her own. They were not there so they wouldn't be tempted to offer her any relief.

Sue had lost track of her climaxes. The flood of sensation was too distracting. The squid was in a 10 minute wait right now, but the saddle was ramping up again, like clockwork, to the next wave crest in the cycle. The vibrations created by the saddle were deep and throbbing. They put the vibrator wand she usually used to shame. She couldn't help squirming, yet again, with equal futility and equal resulting torment from the swinging weights. Even after so many repetitions, the urge was still impossible to fight. Her biological machine was relentless too, in its own way. In fact, she might be responding more strongly over time. It was hard to tell.

She wished the squid would engage. Without it operating, she didn't truly feel penetrated. When dormant, it just wasn't large enough to help her reach climax. Nevertheless, the persistent throbbing of the saddle was driving her up the ladder of arousal. She was already a little breathless. The warmth of the remaining hot lube still seemed to help restore her muscles between climaxes. The pressure of the cupped metal horn pressing firmly into her pubis was working the hood of her clit back and grinding her nub. The intensity was now too great for her to just quietly do nothing and she was starting to get a little frantic. She kept pulling at her wrists and straining to free her legs, pointlessly.

She knew the cycle of the saddle intimately now. It had a steady rise in intensity followed by a sharp fall only to start over again without the slightest variation. The first part of the cycle was very slow and the apex did not last long. She was nearing the end of a peak now and still a ways from climaxing. She missed reaching climax a couple times before under the same circumstances and it was maddening. It left her stuck highly aroused without enough sensation to go over the top. She was forced to endure a slow tease and cool down until the squid engaged or the next cycle of the saddle started. The sharp drop in vibration from the saddle was clearly intentional, and she hated the saddle designers for it.

She tried grinding her sex into the metal horn of the saddle for all she was worth before the peak ended, desperate to come. That did it. The orgasm started, but her world did not shake. The saddle was already subsiding before she was done. Sue wanted to scream in frustration, but still finished several light contractions. It was enough, technically. The horse slowly tilted back upright. She had her 9. Uneventfully, the metal bands retracted and her hands were free. Sue tentatively pulled a foot loose and it came free at last. Her legs were stiff and sore. She just sat on the horse, awkwardly hanging with no other support for her feet, waiting for her circulation to return to normal.

As she was recovering, the next cycle of the squid started with a slow vibe. The floor was just a blur without her glasses so she could only wonder what the remote said. It was down there somewhere. The head of the squid swelled and started pulsing like it was a beating heart. It felt amazing. Yet again, the squid had calculated some new technique to experiment with on her.. There was a separate sensation; perhaps one tentacle was feeling around.

Still, she had had enough so started to get off the horse. She found the foothold on the side of the horse she had used to get on. As soon as she lifted up and started to swing her other leg over the horse, a sharp electric shock from the squid ripped through her. It hurt like hell--like a bee sting to the cunt. She dropped back onto the horse to regain her bearings. She felt faint for a second like she was close to passing out. As soon as her ass was back in the saddle, the pain stopped.

She held there for a minute carefully assessing her predicament. Did she try to get off the horse again? Now she remembered the warnings on the remote before she dropped it, "Must remain in seated position until program completes." She was in ride mode still. Fuck, she was still trapped on the horse and would need to finish a climax while still seated.

There was no good position to sit on the damned thing without using the footholds. Without her feet locked in, they were just hanging and pressure on her crotch was heavy, almost painful, from the awkward position. She had already sat that way longer than she should. Leaning forwards towards the neck allowed her to keep her balance and not fall backwards but ground her vulva into the saddle plate. She knew better than to put her feet back in the holds. She would just need to wait it out. She tried to pull at the gag, but it was hopeless. She couldn't even get her fingers underneath the straps well enough to get a good grip. She would need to get away from the horse for it to release.

She turned her attention to the weights on her nipples, desperate to relieve herself of anything she could. The twine was just a blur, way too close for her uncorrected vision. The knots were too small and tight for her to loosen them by feel, especially with only one hand. She tried pulling at a loop, but they were tied with some kind of slip knot and the pulling just caused more pain. She tried working at them for a while, but her fingernails were just tearing up her nipple so she stopped. She was still shocked that Charlie and Martin had put them on her. They didn't seem to be playing domination games with her. They would probably have stayed or done a lot more to her if that were the case. They were trying to follow a plan with her. It was like they were coaches getting her ready for the big game. They didn't ogle her or grope her. She might even have called them respectful.

Neither of them had commented on the Nuymean glyph on her chest, but it was so obvious that she knew they saw it. They probably knew more about what it meant than she did. The training had a serious tone. They were preparing her for something. It was no use trying to figure it out now. She had to get the guide book from the annex and would need to talk with them.

Sue lifted the weight hanging from her left nipple with one hand. It felt like one of the brass weights used on a balance, probably one from right here in the geology workroom. She wasn't sure how many ounces it was but it was damn heavy enough! If it were any heavier she wouldn't be able to stand it. Immediately her lightened nipple reacted with pain from a slight return of circulation. She slowly lowered the weight and winced at returning constriction. She was trapped in a different sense now. She knew that no matter what she did, removing the weights would be painful.

The whole time she was trying to relieve her nipples, the squid was teasing her ruthlessly. The vibrations were just barely there. Enough that she knew she was still required to remain seated, but not enough to do anything effectively stimulating. It kept her strained muscles tensed and uncomfortable. She could practically hear the minutes ticking by at a snail's pace. Finally, the saddle started to vibrate slowly but deeply like it always did, right on schedule.

The squid started to throb with deeper vibrations too, but still continued to pulse its head, just at a different pace. It was almost like it was expecting assistance from the vibrations of the saddle. No...it was trying to synchronize with them! The squid was adjusting to match the frequency of vibration from the saddle. When it finally did, the sensation almost made her come immediately. It shook her whole body from her groin, pressed firmly on the saddle, up her spine, to the back of her neck. It didn't last more than a few seconds though. The squid moved its oscillations slightly off cycle from the saddle. The effect was brutal. The orgasm switch was flipped back to off immediately. It seemed to setup a third oscillation from the squid to the saddle horn and back. The frequency was too high. It just felt like her whole sex was quivering but unable to do anything else. Her electronic lover had tuned into the fingernails-on-the-chalkboard version of an oscillation. It forced her muscles to tense almost to a point of cramping without any eroticism.

The saddle continued slowly ramping up with faster and stronger vibrations, but in the meantime Sue felt trapped into her current level of responsiveness without the ability to change it. It was like orgasm constipation. She needed it so badly, but couldn't get it to happen. Even grinding into the horn didn't help her move up the ladder. It reminded her of white noise where one frequency is matched in an opposite wavelength to existing sounds in order cancel them out. The squid had found a way to hold back her satisfaction. Compared to the saddle's big motor, the squid was tiny, yet it was holding its own, locked in some kind of duel over the ownership of her pussy. She desperately wanted it to end so that she could, hopefully, somehow, finally, GET OFF THE FUCKING HORSE!

The quivering increased to the point where the sensation was starting to feel more like a relentless tickle. Sue wasn't laughing. She didn't want to experience this feeling ever again; it was that unpleasant. As the saddle continued its mindless ramp up, the squid sudden shifted its frequency to match closer to the same. It moved closer and closer to a unified rhythm. Her whole body shuddered immediately in reaction. The squid had timed the vibration to perfectly match the frequency of her own contractions while still accounting for the vibrations of the saddle. Her whole body vibrated like a guitar string with all resonances in unison.

She pitched and rolled back and forth on the horse then gripped it with her legs trying not to fall off. It made no difference to what she was feeling. Her body was under her control. Suddenly she felt the pressure of that single roaming tentacle. It stopped the seeming random searching and pushed straight to her G-spot. It massaged her magic button with a surgeon's precision. She shook to a spasm that ran from her toes to the top of her brow. The shudder ran up and down her body over and over again. For the first time, she felt her own juices squirting out of her vagina. Her nether lips were plunged in heat as the depleted hot lube was ejected in a final eruptive burnout. Sue leaned back in an arch of ecstasy, conscious of nothing but the pleasure throbbing through her. By the time she realized she was slipping, gravity had already won. Her flailing hands found nothing to grab. She fell backwards off the horse with a complete lack of grace but no lack of velocity. Sue lay stunned in pain and pleasure on the tile floor helplessly coming while the tentacle kept tickling her in that most right of places.



The Curator Ch. 08



Chapter 8: Chinese Puzzling

Sue lay on the cold tile for a few minutes recovering. Her rump was sore from the fall, and she had smacked her elbow on the floor, hard. Otherwise, she was alright. Suddenly she remembered that she was on the clock again. The squid was relentless. Getting to her feet was a real challenge. Wobbling on the heels, while trying to get her sore body to cooperate, took more effort than anyone else could ever understand. The weights tied to her nipples were sheer misery slapping around loose. She couldn't spare a hand to stabilize them.

Once she was back on her feet, Sue squinted to find the lab bench among the various astigmatic blurs. A few stumbles found it after almost knocking over a laptop computer sitting near the edge. She paused and tried to steady the weights. It didn't help much. The steady downward tug was merciless. She knew from experience that lifting them was not a good idea either. Her fingers carefully tested for her glasses. Once she had them back, she immediately felt like a new person; she felt back in control.

She allowed herself time for one deep breath then returned to action. Her mental clock was thinking she might have 4 or 5 minutes left at most. Now she could see the slipknots well enough to work them loose. The blood returning to her tortured buds was even more horrible than she might have guessed. All she could do was grit her teeth and wait it out while the clock ticked off another couple minutes. The bad thing was she still had to do the other nipple.

As soon as she stopped seeing stars, Sue started getting dressed by wiggling her bra into position. She quickly realized her stoutly erect nipples would have none of being compressed into the push-up cups. In addition to being really tender from the tortuous stretching and constriction, the nettle cream was still affecting them. Abandoning her bra, she pulled on her silky nylon undershirt and continued to dress. The thin soft fabric alone against her sensitive buds sent shivers through her. They still poked through her sweater, but there was little else she could do. As the saying goes, her "high beams" were stuck on. Sue couldn't afford the time to worry about it.

Sue knew she couldn't have much time left before the squid calculated its next devious choice. It seemed like it should have started up already. She began looking for the remote. It couldn't have fallen far. She found it behind the horse soon enough. The display made no sense at first. It didn't have the typical countdown she expected. She scrolled back through the entries. They didn't go very far. About 45 minutes ago, there was a message which said "Upgrade completed, restarting." There was no mention of lockdown mode ending, but there was no countdown either. She scrolled back looking for anything of note. Most of the other messages seemed routine enough until she saw "Subject profile complete." What the hell did that mean?

The icons were all still on the display, but it looked like she would be able to enter the passcode and remove the squid with the special tongs. It was on the original programmed settings she selected before the whole lockdown mode difficulty and would still run programs on a regular interval. The last one was "Harley Heaven." Maybe it would have been if it had really been a motorcycle vibrating underneath instead of the vibrating saddle.

She could see an icon showing signal strength. That was new. The remote had connected to the museum's free wi-fi. It must have automatically downloaded software updates. That would explain the differences in the manual. It probably had already been upgraded before. She didn't care. She would be free of the damned thing soon. Between the fall, the horse and the belly dancing, she was way too sore or she would have been dancing a happy dance: no more 10 minute rests or lockdown!

Feeling like she now had all the time in the world before the squid initiated another session, Sue carefully packed up the saddle and put it back in the drawer Martin and Charlie took it from. She looked around to make sure nothing gave away what happened. She wasn't sure what to do with her bra. Her purse was pretty much full. She found a big envelope in the lab supplies to put it in and just carried it. She was about ready to leave when Charlie came through the door looking a little out of breath.

"We expected you would be done by now so I came see if everything was alright," he said while puffing a little. He looked around in the room and then closed the laptop and started wrapping up the power cord. "Martin will want this back. It looks like everything is OK for the morning crew."

Sue immediately realized that they had been watching her with the webcam on the laptop to see if she was alright, presumably. Charlie must have seen the fall and rushed up to check on her. She pretended not to notice. They must not understand how much more tech savvy her generation was than they were. They thought they were so clever.

"Bill is walking over to get Chinese at the place down the block. The snow is pretty bad. We're all going to be here overnight by the looks of it. They've declared a state of emergency. Why don't you come down and join us? We got you chicken with garlic sauce. Maya said you like that. How'd it go? I hope we weren't too rough on you."

Sue was impressed Maya remembered her favorite Chinese selection. "It was a little rough, but I could handle it. I can't say I'd want to do it again though." She started to walk with Charlie back to the lobby. "I need to know a little more about a few things," she blurted out abruptly like it was someone else started talking.

"Understandable," was all that Charlie said.

"What do you and Martin know about the glyph on my chest?" She didn't know any better way to say it than straight out.

Charlie was rather matter of fact like he was expecting her to ask. "The glyph shows that you passed the first of the three great Nuymean rites, but you already know that."

"Yes, but I wanted to know more about it. I've found very little information." Sue continued, "I don't even know how to begin the second rite. The only clue I've found is about a book by Dr. Barnes being in the annex."

"I wish I could help you more. I don't know if there is more to the glyph than that, but I do know Dr. Barnes had one just like it." By the way Charlie reacted Sue didn't think he knew about the book, but he continued. "There is a large Nuymean display in the annex. It was rebuilt stone-by-stone there where the floor was strong enough. The whole exhibit in the annex is outdated from the women's lib era of the '60s into '70s. It was a political showpiece meant to show ways in which women were exploited and treated deplorably through history."

Charlie paused a moment to check down a side passage before continuing. This section of the museum was new to her and the hallways were a bit confusing. The passages were all behind the displays and marked for employee use only.

He continued, "The science was questionable even then and the times have changed, but it sold tickets which was the intention. 'There's no such thing as bad publicity.'"

He looked her way as if checking to see if she was paying attention. "The whole annex building has safety code issues and accessibility problems so it's just been sitting there mothballed. Few people remember it these days. It's completely surrounded by other buildings which don't have windows in that direction. It's such a tragedy to hide the beautiful stonework. With the asbestos, lead paint and shear bulk of masonry, the trustees decided to build around it rather than incur the costs involved in tearing it down or renovating it. The Director can give you official access, but we can work something out in the meantime."

Charlie paused for a minute looking down another passage while his security guard habits took the forefront. "Maggie Barnes passed the first and second rites, but we never knew how she did it or faced the trials. She left on sabbatical for over a year and came back changed. I know she visited other museums with Nuymean artifacts and traveled in South America. She somehow attempted the third and final trial but failed. You need to be prepared much more than she was if you want to pass it. She trained extensively, and it wasn't enough. I can't tell you much more than that. She never told us the details. Martin and I are willing to help you, but ultimately you need to push yourself sexually to a level you might not be willing go."

Sue was surprised that Charlie was so forthcoming, but he hadn't said anything truly revealing. "Charlie, did you move the wooden crate back?" She wondered about her own level of willingness as well, but for now, science first.

Sue watched him closely while he answered. "What wooden crate?" was all he said.

She believed him so didn't even ask about the heater or the glyph, but now the mystery only deepened. She thought she had finally figured it out. Now she was clueless. "Dr. Barnes was your wife wasn't she?"

Charlie gave her a look like he was surprised. "I thought that our relationship was long forgotten. She never took my name, and it's been many years since her passing. We were madly in love but grew a little distant as she became more obsessed with the Nuymeans. I miss her tremendously, but the work always came first."

Sue continued with her new found boldness. "I have my doubts about this priestess thing. From the facts, it's a bunch of unproven unscientific nonsense, but I feel like there is so much more going on here. I can't explain how but my experiences have had some kind of deeper connection to something I don't understand. Now I need to know more. I need to continue with the trials. Anything you and Martin can help me with will be appreciated."

Charlie was very firm when he replied. "Sue, you have no choice but to continue now. I don't know much about this process. Men are rather excluded in anything related to the Nuymean priestesshood. However, I know that the gods have accepted your offer to submit to them and have marked you. They are looking for full commitment. You are honored more than you know and should not insult that acceptance. I hope you understand the severity of what you have started. As far as your personal feelings, I fear they may not really matter in the end."

For the first time Sue felt scared and in over her head. A chill ran up her spine. She remembered seeing some depictions of those supposedly cursed by the Nuymean gods and it was abhorrent. Images of people without arms, blinded, disfigured or otherwise mutilated are hard to ignore. When it came to gods and sacrifices the Nuymeans had some loose similarities to the neighboring Maya and Aztec peoples. Most likely it was all exaggerated. The drawings were often from accounts not by the Nuymean people themselves, much like many of the accounts about the Aztec and Maya were from Westerners. Nevertheless, it was not the kind of chance she wanted to take. What had she gotten herself into? She never intended to become some kind of priestess for some almost forgotten ancient culture.

She had stumbled into something much greater than she understood and was in a situation where she would need to trust faith and instinct: two ideas completely opposite to the scientific and evidence-based ethic she had committed her life to following. How had it become so...intense? How had superstition become an important consideration. Was it all in her head? She couldn't shake the driven feeling. Even though Sue couldn't uncover the truths involved yet, she did know, somehow. Her fundamental belief in science, that everything eventually had a logical explanation, was only part of the puzzle. It didn't matter if she should pursue this course to the end. The experience would somehow be its own end. That was her new belief and an approach that could, at least temporarily, be enough for her.

"So I'm on my own with the second rite?" Sue asked.

"Martin and I are both willing to help but we don't know how the second rite is done. It must have to do with the ritual circle in the annex though, especially if Maggie placed a book there. She was very protective of books so I find it a bit odd that she would do that. She was rather obsessive in obtaining, moving and reassembling the Nuymean circle there. She didn't want it going to the annex, but the available space, politics and funding swung that way at the time."

They approached the lobby. She wished she had more time and still had questions. It all happened so fast. She didn't even notice that her walking pace was almost normal, despite the new footwear. Sue didn't want the others to overhear anything so changed the subject to the weather. Snow was a fact of life here, but there weren't very many storms as bad as this one. She could smell the Chinese food and hear Bill talking with Martin, Maya and Cindy. Maya always seemed to be here. The museum had an endless list of projects to keep her busy. She thought it was odd that Cindy was still here until she remembered her car issues. With the snow, she must have had problems getting home. Sue straightened up and tried to hide her soreness. She tucked the envelope with her bra under her arm as naturally as possible.

Sue quietly joined the group while ignoring Bill. He was openly staring at her chest obviously spotting her erect nipples through the sweater. His eyes started downwards while she suddenly realized her nether lips and clit were also very swollen from the cream. She probably had something like a lewd camel toe through the tights, but wasn't about to look and possibly draw attention to it. She could feel her face start to turn red. She was about ready to run out of the room.

Maya provided a suitable distraction. She was much larger with firm round breasts; the kind that looked heavy and full of milk all the time. The cold seemed to have affected her nipples as well. It was only natural. Maya passed her the paperboard containers with her food, leaning across Bill. Sue sat down quickly at the folding table. The containers were still hot to the touch and for a while the food took over while Sue lost herself in the small-talk.

Bill had trudged the two blocks through the snow. At least he was helpful, she though a bit spitefully. Yum, wonton soup...everyone was impressed with her chopstick prowess on the chicken, but she didn't think it was any big deal and hadn't thought much about it before. Her fortune cookie said, "Your beauty will be unmatched when you achieve peace with your soul." What the hell? Even the fortune cookie seemed to have no solid explanation, but it sounded like something profound was going on.

Bill kept talking about Alien Watch. There were new pictures of Nuymean objects and they were from the museum--her museum. Apparently the Director didn't know about them and no one was about to tell him. Perhaps it would blow over. She looked at the magazine, and some of the pictures were of artifacts not on public display. She recognized the area. It was one of the basement hallways.

They didn't reveal much except that a lot of supposedly Nuymean artifacts were collected there in boxes. The big question the article discussed was why the museum was increasing its Nuymean collection. Sue was even mentioned. They said she had been influenced by aliens during a remote desert expedition. She had been on a desert expedition so they had some of the facts right.

A whole round of discussion and new speculations about alien origins was documented along with a new round of conspiracy theories. Sue knew that it meant trouble. Lots of people had access to that hallway so they would probably never know who took the pictures. It was sure they had a spy amongst them. What were they up to and why did they care?





The Curator Ch. 09



Chapter 9: Back On the Clock

After the symphony ended, Sue collapsed in exhaustion. She wasn't sure how long she slept, but knew that she had one of the best wet dreams she could ever remember. A substantial damp spot darkened the seat of her desk chair. She checked the remote and all it said was "Nocturnal Delight." She felt like she had been visited by some sort of angel with a rather large...blessing. While wrapped in his feathery wings, she surged with pleasure beneath him. Obviously her tired mind was running away while the squid took advantage.

She snapped out of it rapidly. The moment was at hand. She singled-mindedly grabbed the removal tongs and punched the password into the remote. Sue navigated the menu assuredly. "Adherence mode disabled." Soon that was followed by "Security mode disabled" and then "Proceed with Removal."

Using the removal tongs was like doing self-surgery. Since she couldn't see anything, all she could do was to carefully feel her way up inside her pink walls, trying not to hurt herself any more than necessary, until she found the squid. It was a good 20 minutes of poking, probing and manipulating to find and grasp the removal lug. She was sweating and worked up, but followed the diagram and pushed the removal rod up through the guides on the tongs. The rod engaged the squid and it deactivated immediately. The head shrank and the grippers released from her sensitive tissues. She actually had an immediate, albeit short, orgasm from the sudden shift within her.

With an uneventful plop, she pulled the squid out of her and placed it on a leftover napkin. She stared at it with a sense of marvel at how such a small thing had effectively owned her body like it had. In a way, she kind of missed it already and wasn't sure she liked the sudden emptiness. She had never felt so alive sexually. She had reached a height of experience that would be hard to ever equal.

Sue didn't think throwing the squid away was a good idea, but it was certainly the first thing on her mind. Instead, she dug out a sweat towel from her gym bag then wrapped it up and put it in her purse. She would clean it up when she was at the ladies' room. She would also do her best to clean herself up as well. At least she had some deodorant and some perfume in the bag too. If only she could go home, take a shower and change her clothes--if she could find something that would fit over the heels--but she wasn't all that anxious to brave the snow yet.

Before leaving, Sue packed everything else back into her special drawer. Thinking about the Nuymean chair and going to the annex, the possible location of another such device, she threw a bottle of lube into her purse as well, just in case. She was still feeling rather slutty and a little horny despite all that had happened. With the squid ordeal over, her body being her own again, she was going to take advantage of any opportunities. What the hell. She also included her favorite Nuymean phallus. It weighed around 9 pounds and her purse was pretty heavy now. She would have taken the vibrator too if it could have all fit.





The Curator Ch. 10



Chapter 10: "Cins" 

Sue watched the annex floor from within the confines of the sex maiden. She strained her eyes and ears for any sign of a potential rescuer. The ticking of the clockwork might not be very noticeable from across the room, but would still be noticeable should anyone come near. Sometimes the chains would even rattle. Surely they would wonder what was making the sound and investigate? Even if someone did come looking for her, they would only see the thick lenses of her glasses shine back, and perhaps her desperate eyes peeking out, from behind the metal mask. She was in real trouble.

Sue couldn't make a sound loud enough to escape the iron of the maiden with the gag's penis jammed to the back of her throat. The soft rubber plug at its base had packed tighter over time as it conformed to the shape of her mouth. Eventually every gap around her mouth had been filled and sealed tight. At least she was not drooling on herself anymore.

She was starting to discover more about the cleverness of the maiden's design. The constricting corset panels, along with the squeezing and suction of her breasts, made breathing difficult. The gag made using her mouth to breathe impossible. She had to breathe slowly and steadily through her nose while fighting the constriction around her body. The strain was slowly sapping her strength and her will to struggle. She could never struggle now like she did when she was first imprisoned. Now all she could do was to quietly endure her torment. She was truly being tortured.

After a while, Sue realized that even though her unintelligible cries only rang out uselessly inside the thick metal of the maiden's head, she could still hear outside with no problem. Apparently, the head of the sex maiden had ear holes like a football helmet. At first she guessed the fabricators of the maiden wanted the prisoner to be able to hear them. After over an hour in the maiden, though, she realized the ear holes had a second purpose. The soft unstoppable ticking was a constant torment of its own. Each tick was reinforced with the soft transmission of the clockwork mechanism's vibration up the metal rods to the phallus. She couldn't help but focus on the ticking like it was hammering into her whole body, hammering in her mind.

Time was distorted by her circumstances so Sue had no true idea how long she had been trapped in the iron and rubber embrace, but she knew her endurance would not last even a whole day. Eventually she would reach her limits and could only guess what might happen then. The damned thing had slowly forced her to three orgasms--only three--in what had seemed like hours. The combination of continuous stimulation along with the lack of enough stimulation for a tension releasing orgasm had become and astoundingly effective torture. 

Her breasts felt like they had been milked like a dairy cow from the steady pumping of the rubber cups rhythmically suctioning them. She was completely out of ideas of how she might even try to escape at this point. She had explored every place she could feel, pushed and pulled against every bond and strained with all the force she could manage. Panicked thrashing would just have her panting desperately for breath and use up some of her precious remaining energy. Now her only option was to wait for her body to give out or for someone to come looking for her. All the while, she cursed herself for how stupid she had been getting into the maiden in the first place. She knew that her inhibitions were in question. Her judgement was impaired. What had happened to her?

*****

Sue was starting to feel the next climax beginning, but was resigned to how long it would still take to happen when she heard a sound from the other end of the room. She strained to listen...nothing. She waited and started to think she had imagined hearing anything. Voices! It was faint, but two people were definitely talking. Eventually she saw Cindy and Bill emerge from the main entrance. Of all people, shit. When she finally saw them, Cindy had a bottle of something, looked like a vodka bottle. Seems like her intern was a bit more of a party animal than she would have guessed.

Bill looked around.

"Sue must have left the lights on. You see her anywhere?"

Cindy yelled out, "Sue, Dr. Sue, Suueee. Sooee. Here Sooee." Cindy was clearly drunk and amused with herself. Bill was just gawking at her chest and ass thinking she wouldn't notice.

Sue didn't appreciate the hog call. Cindy was even more of a bitch than she thought.

Cindy handed Bill the bottle and he took a polite drink, then set it down away from Cindy.

"So this is the annex. I'm not sure why you wanted to see it so bad. It's just a bunch of outdated displays."

Cindy already was looking at one. It was a bondage table of some sort made of white steel that looked very medical in nature. Sue remembered seeing it up close and it had straps, various mount points for attaching things and could incline to various angles. The table was in near vertical position currently. Cindy stood in front of it with her feet apart and her arms stretched up like she was strapped to the table. She had a short skirt on, despite the season and snow outside, and it rose up high enough that her skimpy white panties peaked out a little. The white blouse she was wearing was stretched rather tightly by her large breasts.

"I don't know. I think it's all rather interesting, don't you."

Sue couldn't believe what she was seeing. Cindy didn't seem like the type to get drunk and flaunt herself in front of a man even if she did come on a bit strong normally. She had her figured as more of the control freak type. Her outfit was clearly selected for one thing: to get her fucked. She must have specially brought it and changed as part of her plans.

The phallus drew Sue's attention back to her own predicament. Damn, the thrusting to continued work on her body even while she was distracted. It was hard to concentrate on what Bill and Cindy were doing or saying. Suddenly she saw Cindy rush at Bill and throw her arms around his shoulders. He grabs her back and they start making out big time. It was like something from a movie, He was groping her all over and she was starting to take her clothes off.

Cindy suddenly pushed him away and took a couple steps back as she pulled off her bra and let it fall.

"I have a really good deal for you."

Sue lost track of what they were saying when the phallus insisted that it should be the focus of her attention for a few seconds.

"I don't know. If the wrong pictures get out not only could I lose my job, but it could ruin the museum as well," replied Bill. Sue could tell he was definitely having a hard time holding back though.

"The magazine won't be satisfied as easily this time. I need pictures of something good. Tell you what. You can have me 3 times, not just today. When else are you going to get a chance like this?" She turned to her side and modeled a little. "It'll be something you'll never forget. I'll see to it."

Bill paused for only a moment.

"I think I might be able to find some kind of arrangement for you."

He leaned in closer and slowly pushed her back towards the white table while kissing and feeling her up. Sue noticed that he was palming her breasts the most. Old feelings of inadequacy pained her like a knife in the gut. Cindy seemed to be kissing back and to be just as interested in him. Sue couldn't tell if it was an acting job, the alcohol or if Cindy was a complete slut. Bill started pulling her left wrist up and fastened it securely to the table with one of the straps.

"I had no idea you might be kinky. What is this thing anyways? We might be able to work it into the deal."

Cindy seemed a little nervous all of the sudden. Bill didn't pay a lot of attention and grabbed her other wrist firmly then secured it into the other strap. Cindy didn't resist.

Cindy blabbered a bit as she said, "I just thought fucking you on this table would be a little more fun, don't you think? I don't know. I've never been tied up before. I don't know if I like it. Are the straps really necessary? I thought we could skip them or at least leave them a little loose."

Cindy seemed to be testing the bonds on her wrists and was finding she couldn't pull free. Bill pulled her panties down and then gave them a smell with a full deep inhalation. He paused as if enjoying it immensely, like a fine wine. After he put them into his pocket, Cindy strained to look.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"My collection, I'm sure you won't miss them."

Cindy started to open her mouth to protest. At least it seemed like that from Sue's position. It was hard to tell. Bill took advantage of the moment and started strapping her ankles and pulling her legs apart to complete a spread eagle position.

Cindy resumed her endless stream of talking.

"Wait. Wait. Aren't you listening? I'm not sure if I want to do this. Was it really necessary to steal my panties? This isn't fun anymore. This table is cold as ice. What is it for anyways? How long are you going to leave me like this? Ouch, do you have to make it so tight? How's the view down there? I'm sure you're really enjoying this."

Bill ignored her and kept working the straps. Sue did think he was enjoying himself. She just wished that Bill used a gag, a big one. He pulled a heavy leather strap up through slots in the table and over Cindy's hips. Cindy grunted when he cinched the buckle down very tightly.

"How am I supposed to fuck if I can't move? C'mon. It won't be any fun if I just have to lay here still. We don't have to have a deal. Just fuck me and let me loose. It'll be our secret."

Cindy was starting to struggle to free herself in earnest. At least the exertion shut her up some.

Next came more heavy straps just under and over Cindy's breasts. Bill gave them a little playful fondling in the process raising some indignant comments from Cindy. She didn't seem to appreciate the additional restraint. She kept talking but her previous playfulness was starting to sound a little insincere. Bill worked his way lower and strapped her thighs apart. Cindy did shut up for a while when he fondled her more sensitive areas. She wasn't entirely outraged after all. Typical. Most things with Cindy seemed to be an act of feigned sincerity so why not insincerity?

Soon the last straps went over Cindy's upper arms and just above her knees. She could move her head, but that was about it. Bill paused to inspect his handiwork and then tickled Cindy for a good 5 to 10 minutes in various places to make sure she couldn't move. Sue thought Cindy might have pissed herself, but couldn't tell for sure.

"I think you're right. I am enjoying this. You're desperate enough to do anything for those pictures. I'm kind of surprised that a beautiful woman like you is so hard up that she would fuck anything that moves to get ahead. I don't have any idea how you could have got so far in school on your own; you must have fucked a lot of professors."

Cindy's mouth hung open like she had been slapped. She seemed to be struggling for something to say. Sue was enjoying every minute. Maybe she had the wrong idea about Bill.

"I shouldn't have been fooled so easily. How did you get downstairs for those pictures before? I know that no one else let you down there. Where's the camera?"

Cindy launched into a complete tirade about what a bastard Bill was and how none of this was part of the deal and then how she wasn't going to tell him anything. She wasn't entirely coherent between her anger, straining to get free and drunkenness.

Bill wasn't all that surprised. He casually left her on the table to walk over to one of the other cases in the annex. Cindy couldn't turn her head far enough to see where he went.

"Bill, please. Don't leave me here. I didn't mean it. C'mon, I'm so horny. Come back over, please. Really, I am. These straps are so tight, please don't leave me. Where are you going?"

Sue was thinking some of the same thoughts herself, watching from across the room, as the fun seemed to be over and her own heat was slowly building back up. Her position had sunk a little bit from her struggling. With each upstroke, the plate at the base of the rubber cock brushed against her clit making it the focus of her attention. It was just enough of a touch to send her nerves tingling, but it was only a brief moment during each thrust. If she could only force herself down a little lower still, she would be able to climax in no time.

Soon Bill returned with a head-size ball of leather straps. He moved up behind the white metal bondage table without Cindy seeing him. In one smooth motion, he slid straps down over her head on each side of her nose. At first Sue heard a scream from Cindy, then muffled cries as Bill pushed some kind of gag into her mouth. She could see him pulling the remaining straps now. He had gagged Cindy with a full head hardness that left some kind of black tube sticking out of her mouth. It must have been part of some fetish display.

Sue realized what it was when Bill started to pump a rubber bulb on the end of the black tube. He was inflating a rubber gag in Cindy's mouth. Finally, she was quiet. He turned something at the base of the tube and then pulled it away leaving Cindy's mouth stoppered.

A whole range of feelings and sensations hit Sue like a tidal wave. First, she was shocked that Bill would be so extreme with Cindy. Second, she was majorly turned on by the idea of Cindy's predicament. She wondered if Cindy had ever experienced bondage before. Sue was surprised at how her own body reacted to bondage and would have actually loved to try what it would feel like to be on the table herself and certainly would not have felt that way a month ago. She ignored the implications of what her reactions to bondage might mean for now and needed time to think. Mostly, she wanted to see what Bill would do next. She didn't have long to wait.

Bill finished checking the straps of Cindy's new headgear.

"I have to tell you a story. You see, this device is rather historic. Most people have heard about evil Nazi doctors, concentration camps and the like. What they don't necessarily know about is the full extent of human experimentation they performed. This device was part of one such set of experiments. The unidentified 'doctor' was attempting to prove that some women were genetically superior to others sexually. No one knows all the details, but it is known that he would place them on this device and then force them to come over and over while recording the results. I wonder if he thought sexual responsiveness was a superior or inferior trait."

Bill tipped the platform back 90 degrees to make it flat. Cindy seemed to thrash a little more while she was moving, but it was hard to tell with her so tightly strapped. He then picked up a rather heavy device that looked sort of like a motor and put it between her legs. He definitely struggled with the weight. It was slightly larger than a basketball. He then turned some hand bolts, mounting it to the table. As near as Sue could tell, a large metal section of the device was pressing directly against Cindy's womanhood, most likely with a lot of weight.

"Don't worry," he said, "it all sounds so evil, but it was the 1940s. This thing is basically just a big heavy vibrator."

With that, he plugged in some kind of adapter looking thing and then threw a switch on the motor. It was smooth, but Sue could hear the buzzing clear across the room. It sounded like it was vibrating the whole table.

"I'll be back in a while. Enjoy yourself. I know you said you were really horny. Just close your eyes and think about straight A's." Bill laughed at his own joke. "I think I know where I might find that camera. If not, I'll be back to ask you in a bit."

Bill looked around a couple more times to make sure everything was alright and then left. He left the lights on! That's a good thing she thought. He was planning to come back soon, right?

Sue was still reeling from what she had seen, but also from the sensations coming from her own body. She couldn't help imagine what it would be like to be Cindy right now. That gigantic metal vibrator must weigh 50 pounds or more. It was probably rattling her teeth. Cindy's head hadn't stopped moving and bobbing ever since it was turned on. She seemed to be struggling under the straps, but it was hard to tell. The buzzing and rattling would rise and fall at intervals from the old motor.

In the meantime, Sue dealt with her own predicament. The plate was continuing to brush her clit with each thrust. She started to squeeze her vaginal muscles with each thrust trying to create more friction and sensation. It was working. Slowly, she could feel the build. She would love to have that big metal orgasm motor on her pussy for just a couple minutes. She thought she could see Cindy's whole body tense, and Sue knew why, but it was had to tell for sure with her glasses steaming up. Finally, her own body was tensing up. Any moment now...



The Curator Ch. 11



Chapter 11: An Upshift of Reasoning

Cindy never felt anything like this before. She fought the heavy straps desperately with no effect whatsoever. Despite being a regular at the gym, her arms were sore and she was completely out of breath in no time at all. The inflated gag made breathing through her mouth almost impossible.

Her emotions ran between complete frustration, extreme anger and mad excitation. The helplessness of being strapped down naked and spread open combined with the gag made her feel degraded and humiliated. For some reason, it also made her horny as hell.

She knew she was a sex object to most men. Few saw past the blonde hair, tight abs and big boobs. Normally she used it to her advantage, but this was different, so primal, so raw, so brutish. Bill had just done what he wanted to her with total disregard. No one had ever treated her like that before. She never even realized that he was really the one in control until he strapped her down. She was the one played this time. All along she thought she was leading him on to get what she had wanted.

Cindy felt like a captured wild animal; now the giant motor pressing down on her sex was taming her. There was no other way to think about it, no other way to experience it--no other way but to feel it. At least that was the way of looking at it which was the most thrilling to her.

The vibrations ran right up her abs and down each leg. It was the most intense sensation she ever felt. The anger and stubborn resistance she felt initially was fading fast to be replaced by desperation. It wasn't about her ego anymore. Soon it wasn't about pleasure anymore either. It was only about endurance. Enough was enough; she had had it a long time ago. She would do anything to be freed. It was too intense, too much to resist. She was broken.

The deep throbbing vibrations from the truly insidious Nazi vibrator continued to force orgasm after orgasm out of her. It was now a torture she wouldn't have believed possible. The feeling reminded her of needing to pee so desperately that you couldn't think about anything else, but in this case all she could do was think about the endless spasms of her sex and how to relieve them.





The Curator Ch. 12



Chapter 12: Trust in the Gods

Cindy and Bill had gone a long time ago. She might have fainted once or twice since then, feeling weak as a plague victim. They had shut off the lights and left her in the dark with no true awareness of time. Strangely, she was completely devoid of fear. The old building didn't even have a working red exit light. So, when the lights suddenly started to warm up it was like a supernova had exploded in the room. Strangely, she did not have any hopeful feelings of rescue. The sense of detachment she was experiencing was still all consuming. She was just an observer of her own situation and would reserve her emotional response for now. She was not free yet.

Charlie and Martin entered the annex and walked straight over. They seemed rather matter-of-fact like they weren't surprised at all in finding her trapped in the iron sex maiden. They didn't seem to know just how difficult her fight was behind that iron mask. She had no doubts that she was lucky to be alive.

With what seemed like familiarity, they pulled the levers and the thrusting stopped. After a lot of clattering, the two halves of the maiden started to open. Martin quickly grabbed her falling glasses.

The relief was incredible as the gag pulled away from her face. Finally, she could swallow normally after a bit of coughing. Though her arms were still numb from the awkward restriction, at last she could take a deep, normal breath. Her breasts erupted with pain as they popped free of the rubber suction sleeves they had been trapped inside; circulation was returning, the infernal ticking finally stopped. It was euphoric. Her clit was aching severely with the prolonged lack of release. She reached down to give herself a few rubs as unselfconsciously as if she were scratching an itch. Instantly she was consumed with a full, unrestricted, amazing, orgasm. It took every last bit of strength she had left.

She started to fall forward in collapse, but Charlie and Martin grabbed her and helped her out from between the two halves of the maiden's bell shape. She wasn't completely with it as they half-walked, half-carried her towards the left and front of the annex. It only occurred to her after a few steps that she was completely naked. At this point, she decided it was the least of her worries. The cold air of the annex was a bigger concern, but she was OK for now. She didn't know where they were taking her and they seemed to have a plan. Hopefully it would include fetching her clothes and purse. More importantly, she needed something to drink and a warm place to sleep. Her legs were very wobbly from the extended kneeling in the maiden. The walking was a strain and she started to feel faint again. Charlie and Martin were ready and kept her from falling as she collapsed again.

*****

Consciousness returning, Sue realized her freedom had been short-lived. She awoke restrained in a different apparatus. Her neck and wrists were trapped in wooden stocks, technically a pillory. The fit was tight. She pulled at her wrists and clearly they were not going to come loose even if she was willing to lose some skin. Her body was bent at the waist and held parallel to the floor. With her neck trapped in the wooden frame, she felt like some kind of farm animal waiting in the barn to be milked or bred.

She tried to look up, but she could not lift her head up very far. Her best view was of the floor. Turning her head sideways wasn't much better, though she could see a few recognizable objects in her blurry vision. Martin still had her glasses. Nevertheless, she knew exactly where she was now. She had seen plenty of this device from her time in the sex maiden. She was now positioned to the left from her former prison, a ways closer to the door.

As suspected, when she tried to move her hips, she felt a wooden beam crosswise under her body, in the crook between her hips and the top of her thighs. It prevented her from bending at the knees and forced her hips up. Also expected, her ankles were locked far apart in their own wooden stocks near the floor. She became completely conscious of the lewd way she was presented. Nothing left to the imagination. From the rear, her fully engorged labia and perhaps her firmly budded clitoris were fully on display. To add to the embarrassment, she was completely conscious of the glistening wetness which would be visible. The shaved-bald fleshy roundness of her vulva was clearly exposed between her legs saying "take me."

Was that what Martin and Charlie had in mind? One of them could be right behind her now ready to thrust into her. The whole thing didn't seem in character for them. What are they up to? Why had they restrained her?

Her body was still happy to be out of the maiden. The stretched position felt achingly good. In the next moment, the pleasures were forgotten. The distraction of her thirst, hunger and exhaustion quickly took the forefront of her attention, even over the cold air. Her body wanted to collapse on a soft bed to get some sleep.

The natural and largely irresistible reaction to free oneself kicked in. She struggled every which way, testing each bond. At first she was scientific and methodical--each wrist, each ankle, push, pull, twist. Anger and frustration started to build. The slightly rough wood promised pain and skin damage if she forced the issue. She took some deep breaths and forced herself to calm down, trying to relax as much as possible so as not to go into a frenzied strugglefest.

From her right, she heard footsteps. A feeling of panic shot through her and she almost launched into that strugglefest after all, but then she heard Martin's voice.

"I guess I won't need these smelling salts. You weren't out long. Don't worry, this will be done quickly then you can get something to eat and drink then some sleep."

"What the hell is this all about? I thought I could trust you!" Sue said just short of yelling. She did not expect that reaction to come from herself. It just popped out before she even knew that the madwoman within her had awoke too. "I could have died in that thing and you both act like you just got back from the movies."

"I know how it appears. It's unfortunate. Sorry."

Martin paused. Sue waited, slowly calming a little.

"Let me just ask you one question. Why did you lock yourself in that apparatus?"

The question snapped Sue out of it for a minute. She didn't want to answer while somehow knowing she wasn't going anywhere until she did. Thinking about it, she realized how bad it might look. They might think she had a death wish or something.

"I became obsessed. It was all I could think about. I got unbelievably horny and it seemed like one of the only things that would satisfy me. It was like I couldn't help myself. I didn't plan to lock myself in. It was an accident. I really don't know what got into me. It was so unprofessional."

"You didn't think about the danger for a minute?"

Martin was undeterred. He just wanted to know the answer, no judgement, no implications. He continued in the same even-toned voice, "If Bill and Cindy hadn't happened along, you probably would have died." 

"I knew it was possible, but that added to the thrill," Sue admitted, still not sure why she did. It was like someone had shot her full of truth serum. "For some reason, I never really felt like anything dangerous could happen."

She heard another set of footsteps approach from straight ahead.

"Charlie, you were right. Her normal inhibitions are affected. She is a danger to herself, same as what happened with Maggie."

Charlie didn't reply immediately.

"I was afraid of that. A positive sign nonetheless, she is clearly under Nuymean influence. Does she show the other symptom?"

"Let's find out." Martin asked, "Sue, are you a virgin?...been with a man?"

The question shocked Sue--way too private of a question. She was embarrassed to be a virgin at her age, but she had taken many years of college very seriously, probably too seriously. Boyfriends had not been part of the plan.She had never had the real thing inside her. She knew she should be outraged, but it also seemed to be a perfectly natural question for some reason. The answer seemed to be burning on her tongue. Saying it suddenly seemed the only way to quench its heat.

"Yes," she squeaked. She could not see Charlie or Martin to gauge their reaction.

Martin simply asked another question, "Does being restrained arouse you?"

Again, Sue felt that initial shock. Another inappropriate question that should have incited her to anger, but didn't. She answered without even thinking, "Yes, it made me lustful more than anything else I've ever experienced." She couldn't believe she told them that.

Charlie continued, "I think we need to follow through with our plan."

"Absolutely," Martin confirmed. "She seems more advanced than Maggie was at this point. Maggie didn't reach this level until after she had been training for a few months."

Charlie said, "I'll find one if you want to get her purse and clothes. You better stay with her. You have that measuring tape?"

Martin measured around her waist.

"29 and half inches."

Sue wanted to ask what he was doing when Martin interjected first. Either way, she knew they were going to put her into something, but what?

"Unfortunately, this is all necessary. I hope you understand. Don't worry, it won't take long. I'll get your stuff, be back in a couple minutes. Charlie isn't far either."

Sue was more than a little disturbed by her own behavior. Why had she answered them like that? They were right that something was up with her. She didn't have full control. Somehow she was being influenced. Looking at it now, the very idea of putting herself between the two halves of the sex maiden seemed like a really dumb move, but she had not been afraid at the time. Somehow nothing actually scared her right now. Clearly, her sense of detachment wasn't coming just from her own state of mind. She still couldn't convince herself that any of this was all that important in the long run. She simply trusted that it would work in the end.

Her scientific mind was having a hard time finding a rational explanation for her own behavior. She didn't believe for a second that she was being brainwashed or going crazy. She knew she wasn't the slut Bill thought she was. In fact, Bill didn't seem to be acting right either.

She couldn't see how she was under the influence of any substances. The explanation had to be in common with the other unsolved occurrences she had experienced. This was no different a problem than how the wooden crate and been placed back under her feet or how she got the glyph tattoo--something extra was going on outside the evidence available. She needed to find more clues to have a chance of figuring it out. The best way to get more information was to keep going, to continue with the Nuymean rituals and training.

A few minutes later, Martin returned. He was out-of-sight to her right somewhere.

"I has wondering why your purse was so heavy. Nothing like 3 or 4 kilograms of lusterite."

He must be talking about the Nuymean phallus. She didn't know how to respond. He didn't seem to care if she responded anyway. She felt more violated by him going through her purse than being naked and exposed. Between the interposed boards of the stocks and her inability to turn her neck, she could only guess what he was doing.

"This other device is interesting...and used recently. It looks very high tech with the remote control and all. The shape reminds me of an octopus or squid. I bet this explains a lot of your odd behavior lately."

Sue held her breath. Martin could easily reinsert the squid. She was on the verge of panic, but didn't want to give him any ideas.

"Would you like me to reinsert this stimulator?" Martin asked, immediately playing to her fears, while also completely naive to what he was really asking. "Perhaps this is why your training has been so successful."

Despite the horrific dread, Sue almost answered "yes" immediately. The idea was still very tempting to her suddenly raging libido, but she didn't think she could handle being subjected to the evil little thing again. Through shear force of will, finally, she was able to force out the words, "No, absolutely not, please don't."

"I want you to tell me all about this squid device or I will insert it back into you and figure it out for myself," he said in a commanding tone.

On some kind of autopilot, she was telling him about Steph, the instruction manual, the lock down mode--everything--before she could stop. Why? She had no idea. Still, it was compulsive. She could not stop. When she did it was almost like physical pain. For some reason the secret wasn't important enough to resist the imagined consequences. It seemed really important that he know. When she was done, it was a great sense of relief, like finally confessing a crime.

Martin paused as if considering.

"This squid device must really be something for you to still be worried about it. The traditional techniques should be sufficient without chancing something like this. I'm not sure the Nuymeans had this type of technology in mind anyways."

Martin paused and walked around her like he was checking her condition, or, perhaps her restraints.

"You could have died in that sex maiden, but look now at how you are already dripping with lust and ready for more. Your body is definitely responding to the training...and rapidly. I suppose that's good."

She didn't want to tell Martin that she had masturbated at least once a day since her early teens. Her responses were not all that different than they had been for years--from nothing to "ready to fuck a hairbrush" in 5 minutes flat.

She heard the unmistakable sound of the pump on her bottle of lube. As she opened her mouth to ask, she got her answer from the other direction. The cold lusterite head of the phallus was pressing between her swollen nether lips. With firm and deliberate pressure, it was soon penetrating her slowly and completely. She could not move away from it in the slightest. Despite the cold metal, it still felt amazing and comfortable after the rubber phallus of the sex maiden; she let out an involuntary gasp.

"It fits rather well. Probably didn't need the lube," observed Martin. "You of all people might appreciate your circumstances more with a little history lesson. These are the stocks of Rochfort the Bastardmaker, circa late 1300s perhaps early 1400s. They have been on loan from a forgotten castle museum in France since the annex display was created. Seems like they don't want them back at this point--a part of their past they would rather the tourists didn't see. Rochfort used his nobility to assert the right of driot du seigneur perhaps more than any other man in history. Modern historians like to deny how much the practice actually went on. Evidence such as these stocks has been quietly hidden away to create a "lack of evidence." Hard to tell how many young brides lost their virginity on their wedding night restrained in this device, at least a hundred, probably more."

Martin was doing something to the supports of the stocks. She felt her head and wrist restraints being lowered. Her ass was still held in position by the wooden crossbar so the end effect was to push her ass up in the air as she was bent lower. With the new angle, the Nuymean phallus slipped deeper into her vagina from its own weight.

"Aside from bastardizing the first born males to ruin their land claims, Rochfort also liked to actually get the young women pregnant. The lower-angled position created a downhill slope to help his seed to find its mark, at least that was the intent. After he deflowered a young woman, he would leave her in these stocks overnight while gravity did its work. He usually visited them several more times during the night for added measure."

Sue was outraged at how these women were treated--an appalling new level of degradation she was unfamiliar with. She was now getting her own first-hand taste. Her own legs spread open in re-enactment. Her own untested passage exposed and threatened, easily available, wet and aroused, calling to Charlie or Martin should they choose. The most infuriating part of all was not what she expected: her level of sexual frustration was increasing and she could do nothing to bring herself off. A young woman of the past would have been helpless, exposed and displayed, waiting to be penetrated for the first time by some petty feudal lord instead of her newlywed husband. The effect was making her so horny that all her other bodily aches and problems were largely forgotten.

The heavier-than-lead lusterite phallus--9.1 pounds of it--was the focus of her thoughts, a unique torment as her sex was forced to hold it inside. She could feel her muscles tensing against the weight and the slightly challenging size. Women weren't built to bear such weight in their pussies she thought, not at this angle. Her body was starting to remember just how exhausted and tortured it was. She tried rocking back and forth to work the phallus, but the pleasant friction needed was not happening. She needed some in and out motion but could not move in that direction.

*****

Sue heard Charlie's heavy work shoes echoing closer before he spoke.

"I'm having a hard time finding something that should be a good fit. With a collection that size, I thought it would be easier. Can this crossbar slide forward?"

Sue couldn't take it any longer and asked, "What are you going to do?" No response.

Martin did something underneath and Sue felt the bar slide forward under her stomach in short order. The new position was not an improvement. With her neck trapped in the stocks, she could not slide forward or backward. She could bend her legs and lower her waist some now, but the added range of motion made little real difference. Worse was the pressure of the crossbar directly into her stomach. She would not want to be forced hard into the bar from this position.

"We've decided to put you in a chastity belt," Charlie said.

He paused letting his words register. Sue's thoughts ran off in different directions immediately. She didn't know how she felt about it herself so didn't know how to react. She didn't want her sex locked up--or did she? Before she could think about what to say to them, she felt cold metal circle her waist. Despite some pulling and straining, the circle did not close tightly enough.

"If your sex is inaccessible, then you should be able to resist doing something foolish. We don't need a repeat of something as dangerous as the sex maiden. Also, your virginity must remain intact. In your current state, you just might do something regretful."

Sue could see some kind of logic in it, but that didn't make it right. What did they think was going on with her that they decided she needed to be locked up? She knew how she felt now about the chastity belt now. No!

"Is this really necessary? What do you mean about protecting my virginity?" she asked tentatively.

Charlie continued to pull and push different metal belts at her waist. He was trying various pieces of hardware one right after another. When he pressed one cold metal device against her shaved mound, she suddenly felt the severity of what they were going. If she was horny before, she was completely red hot now.

"Maggie thought that the reason she failed the final trial was that she was not a virgin. Maybe, maybe not, but we can't take that chance. You clearly have no inhibitions left."

Charlie didn't seem to be having any luck with the fit.

"I don't think this is going to work Marty. There are bigger belts, but they are a lot bigger. I'm think anything with a larger waist band might just slide down her hips. She's a bit too...full figured."




The Curator Ch. 13



Chapter 13: An Element of Faith

Given Bill's actions, Sue wasn't sure of his intentions or motivations, but she knew one thing for sure: she had misunderstood him. This puzzle she had unboxed had more pieces than she originally thought.

Bill moved the crossbar back under her hips locking it into position. The tighter restriction and higher, more available, presentation of her ass just fuelled her lust more. All she could think now was that he was serious. What would he do next? Why was he nice now and so nasty earlier? She held her breath as he walked behind her. Her ability to speak as lost as a misplaced set of car keys.

As she felt his fingers beside her clit, she exhaled in relief. He was doing what she asked. Even more importantly, he wasn't going to leave her desires waiting. She needed this, relief, simple enjoyable pleasure, no machines, no electronics. His hand was magic, the ministrations a kind of art. He was perceptive of her every response and anticipated her slightest reaction like he had sexual ESP. Where had he learned this? Legs spread in the stocks, she felt transparent as well as lewdly exposed before him. Desperate for climax, any pretense of remaining dignity was cast aside. Let him think what he would. Until this was over, she had no reservations; she was a total slut if that's what he cared to think. She would be her own judge, not him. With acceptance, she allowed herself to enjoy the adventure in which she found herself. After all, life was not just about science, it was also about her. 

Within the confines of the stocks, her non-verbal directions were indeed slight. Regardless, he didn't miss a clue while neither of them said a word. She could hear him breathing hard in his efforts. Was that a tongue? lips? She was so wet and lubed that she wasn't entirely sure. Clearly she felt hot breath on her vulva...had to be. If only she could see what was going on back there. No, stop...put the analysis aside, just feel. Accept. Lost in the sensation, the exhaustion of her body was banished to the back of her mind. She felt, due lack of a better word, worshipped. Regardless, Bill held her back from the floodgates. She was not allowed to come despite how desperately she needed to.

If Sue had not been locked up tight in the stocks, she would have been the one to take Bill. She would have torn his clothes off and clamped her pussy over his manhood. Virginity? Who the fuck needs it? The Nuymeans were the most sexual culture in the history of the world. Would they care about virginity? Hell no! Maybe the other way around, their gods might think less of a virgin.

Wow, what a thought, that was the first time she had ever thought about being the aggressor in a sexual situation. Her mind was clearly being affected. Maybe just because she had never been pushed to these extremes before. Perhaps she was delirious and physically in much worse shape than she thought. She was quite aware of primitive rituals, rites of passage, the vision quest and how extremes of the body could create extremes of the mind; archaeology is a specific branch of anthropology after all. The torture of pleasure she was currently enduring added an intensity that was definitely an extreme of the body in addition to her exhaustion, hunger, thirst and soreness from the sex maiden. 

The heavier than lead weight of the phallus inside her was a relentless excitement of its own. Her vaginal muscles were constantly tensing due its size and weight. Bill now turned his attention to it as well. Never giving her enough stimulation to climax, he would lift the phallus from underneath, manipulating it indirectly through her flesh by pressing against her smooth-shaved pussy. He never touched the metal directly. His warm, firm hand providing temporary relief from the heavy metal only for him to let the phallus drop slowly to give relentless gravity its turn.

Bill found just the right motion to work the phallus, pressing on her mound while at the same time massaging her clit. The weight moving and shifting on the inside, while her love bud was teased on the outside, caused a buildup of sensation all through her sex.

Suddenly she found a voice. Perhaps not her own voice, but a voice.

"Bill, please. Can you please take me? Will you just get on with it and fuck me?"

Sue had closed her eyes, but immediately opened them. She felt additional hands. Her nipples were being gently rolled between strong fingers. Alternately, her breasts were palmed and massaged. She sensation was getting to her. From the horizontal position, her swelling breasts felt heavy and full. Each touch seemed to connect directly to her pussy, fueling her lust.

She saw more feet and legs beneath the stocks. Charlie and Martin had returned and were standing on each side of her. She closed her eyes again as she felt the first contractions of a body shattering orgasm begin. She would have climaxed long ago if her body had not been so used and depleted.

"Yeowww!!"

Sue screamed in shock and pain. Someone had spanked her bare ass with an open hand at just the precise moment. The pain had stopped her climax in its tracks, but embarrassment was first on her mind. What would they think now after hearing her ask Bill to fuck her? Before she could formulate any words, a new climax was already building.

She heard Martin whispering, "Bill, Bill?"

She heard Bill whisper back almost immediately. Apparently they think she can't hear them. "I'm OK, what the fuck happened? I just came over here and couldn't control myself." 

"Arrr!!"

A second slap stopped her again. This time from the other side on the other ass cheek, right where she was sore from falling off the horse. She hadn't thought it possible, but now she was even more turned on than before. Her whole body felt like it was on fire with pent up sexual energy, like it was made of plastic explosive waiting for the phallus inside her to trigger detonation.

Charlie spoke first. His tone of voice was a bit stern. "Go ahead."

She felt someone squeeze and twist her left nipple. As soon as her mouth opened to cry out, she could feel the rubber ball of a gag being shoved in her mouth deftly and firmly. They only took a moment to fasten the strap around her head pulling the ball in even deeper. She was really starting to loathe gags, but somehow being gagged made her feel even more aroused. She was starting to like being helpless, at least some. The directly primitive feeling of it was something she never really appreciated before.

Her ass throbbed in pain; her breasts ached with desire; her clit pulsed with pleasure; her heart was beating out of her chest; her spine tingled with lust from head to toe; her brain prayed that they did not stop. Most of all, through the whirlwind of sensation, she felt energy radiating from the golden metal rod inside her. It was like an antenna focusing and drawing energy--powerful, sexual, energy--into the core of her body.

"She needs another smack. She's getting close again," warned Charlie

"AAAAhhhhhh!" Sue was really getting tired of this. The denial was worse than the pain, but that last smack was the hardest yet. She jolt shuddered through her whole body.

"Oh I get it, the effect is broken when she's in pain like that," observed Bill.

What effect? What the are they talking about? Sue's mind raced--another puzzle. Still, the pain was doing something to her. It was clearing her mind a little. Something extra was happening that she didn't understand. What had happened to Bill? Did she do it somehow?

It didn't matter. She decided to stay with the course of action, to continue to trust that it would work out, that her life was already being orchestrated. Now she needed an element of faith that going along with what was happening was part of that plan, that the facts would reveal themselves. That just letting things happen would solve the puzzles of the Nuymeans. Yes, that was it, an element of faith! Trust in the Gods or Trust of the Gods. That was the idea the glyph on her chest was trying to convey. It was also an instruction. They were telling her to enjoy! Nothing wrong can happen if you trust and are trusted! Maybe that was the problem with Maggie. Maybe Maggie didn't let herself enjoy what was happening. 

"Fuck!! Oowwww!" at least that's what she tried to say through the gag. Another orgasm interrupted. Trust didn't protect her ass from pain. She tried thrashing in the stocks, but someone had taken their hand away for a moment again, no sensation on her clit. She could feel the phallus moving back and forth, but as she rocked, it felt like it was sinking deeper towards her cervix so she stopped. The last time she hit her cervix with a dildo it hurt like hell. All she could do was to wait in frustration and anger. 

Oh! Bill's hand was back working it's magic. It had to be Bill. No, not quite the same as before. Much more fumbling. The same basic technique, but none of the artistry. How could that be? Still she was getting close to climax, again.

It was Charlie who spoke next, "We didn't see this with Maggie until near the end. We need to make sure that no one is ever alone with her." 

"Are females influenced as well?" Bill asked

After a pause, Martin replied first, "I don't think so."

"Good, I have an idea then."

"The phallus inside her must act as an intensifier somehow," interrupted Martin.

Charlie agreed, "I think we still need to keep it inside her as much as possible to amplify her development. The young Nuymean girls had years to get into shape. Our good doctor has a lot of making up to do."

She heard the swish coming this time. "Unnnnnh!" Fuck did that hurt. Damn. They must be using that guard belt again. Something about it though, it turned her on a little bit more. Her body was definitely changing. How could pain like that possibly arouse her even more?

Her brain was on spin cycle: mind-blowing sensation, abrupt pain, recovery, repeat. Each time, the intensity was higher. The pain was not cutting through the mounting lust completely anymore. Sitting down is not going to be pleasant for a good while.

"Mmmmhhh!" Already, shit. How they could tell right when to hit her was a mystery, but they were doing it each and every fucking time. Why couldn't they just let her freakin' come?

The tension traveled from her neck down her spine. She fought to straighten against the wood beam forcing her ass into the air. If only she could relieve the knot her body felt like it was tied in. Her legs tensing from strain were the final torment, she ached to close them. Her nipples and clit ached so much she felt every heartbeat as an intimate throb. She didn't know it was possible to be so aroused and so unable to do anything about it.

There was no slap this time. Charlie and Martin stepped back. Oh yes, nine times had passed. The symbolic count had not been lost on her. Bill let the weight of the phallus drop suddenly and a bit too forcefully for her liking. That detonator was triggered, despite the pain, and the explosion rocked every part of her body. The spasms shook every muscle. Her legs twitched uncontrollably with the involuntary exertion.

She gave out a guttural moan. A moan of profound depth originating from so far down within her that it felt like her soul escaping. The climax was half pleasure, half pain, all ecstasy. While her body reacted, she had a moment of pure clarity. A flash of pure and proper rightness. The Nuymeans were right. Sex and the Sacred should never be separated.





The Curator Ch. 14



Chapter 14: Property

Sue woke comfortably on a twin bed, tucked in under warm blankets like a child--at least it seemed that tender at first. Slowly awareness started to creep back in her mind. She remembered being in the stocks last. Oh, yes, her ass was sore, but that was just the first hint of the sensations her body was starting to report. Drawing her attention the most was the constriction all over her midsection. She was wearing something leather; she remembered them mentioning a corset now. The fog of waking up was clearing from her mind. Damn it's tight. No--more than that--it's really fucking tight. How did she sleep in this thing? She felt around, but there was no obvious way to undo it.

She started to swing her legs to get out of bed. Her ass was definitely sore. The covers put up a bit of a fight as she untucked the sheets. They must have been afraid she would fall out of bed. The movement caused a new set of sensations and she froze. Something tight and hard was over her crotch and it was pulled deep into her ass crack. Oh...fuck! There was something round and wide right over her anus splitting her crack wider, not comfortable at all! She started to reach down to touch it when she felt the lusterite phallus shift a little. Shit! That too? Oh! She had to admit it was quite an arousing wake-up call.

Her first touch reaching for her vulva was surprising. She found a huge mass of metal there. Some kind of plate completely covered most of her pussy. Second, a fist-sized lump of metal that felt like a round padlock was attached right over her clit. All of this was overwhelming enough, but what was most maddening was that it all was making her really horny. The very idea of being locked up while penetrated was suddenly seriously thrilling to her. How could this level of discomfort possibly be such a huge turn on?

Sitting up was a struggle. The feeling of the metal around her crotch as she sat up wasn't something she was going to forget anytime soon. She felt the metal between her ass cheeks sink in even deeper. She tried to calm herself as she tossed aside the remaining covers and stood up slowly. What could they have been thinking? Did they really think she would keep wearing this getup? Despite the corset and metal over her sex, her bare breasts and fully exposed legs still gave her a feeling of nakedness.

As she stood up, she couldn't help but notice that her feet were not sore at all even after being trapped in the high heels overnight. It was unnatural and suspicious. She could not understand how her body could adapt so quickly like that, but she must be getting use to them--not like she had a choice now anyways.

The smell of the corset hit her suddenly. Part well-tanned leather, part dive bar, part marijuana, and part sweaty gym towel was the best way to describe it, even faint traces of slutty perfume and cigarette smoke. The people who put together the fetish display that Charlie and Martin "borrowed" the corset from definitely used authentic sources. Where did they get this thing, some backstreet whorehouse or perhaps the Hell's Angels' thrift shop? She would have to find out how it was stored. The technique had obviously preserved it well. The tightness was a little better once she was standing but her breathing was definitely restricted. No way could she go around wearing this thing all the time. She needed to talk to them. She still couldn't feel any hooks, zippers or laces to undo it even after feeling around methodically.

She noticed some blurry objects on the nearby table. Thank God! Her glasses and a half-cold bottle of water. Someone had done a good job straightening the frame of her glasses. What a relief to be able to see again! Oh, there was a note too, and the book! Maggie's book. Coming to the annex to find it seemed like a week ago. She was thinking of her now as another woman who was on the same quest and not the esteemed Dr. Barnes she originally envisioned. Somehow she was human now.

Sue cracked open the water and started drinking it down. She was hungry too, but one thing at a time. She didn't recognize the handwriting. It looked male for some reason. The note said that Cindy went to get her some clothes and that she should see Maya--wrong in so many ways starting with "Why Cindy?" Not her first choice as someone to pick her clothes. Why was she left alone? Regardless, she was trapped here for now it seemed. Why they would want her to see Maya was odd. Maya did more than just take care of the displays and the cosmetics of the mannequins, but how was she involved in this? She did not like how rapidly knowledge of her "private studies" was getting out. Way too many people knew far too much for her peace of mind.

She wasn't about to go out into the museum looking for Maya without clothes, especially since she would be on camera the second she left the annex. An old phone was still on the wall near the counter, but it had no dial tone. Hopefully someone would show up soon. Otherwise, she'd be raiding the fetish display looking for something to wear amongst the leather, spandex and rubber.

The metal over her pussy was hard to get a good look at without a mirror. She couldn't lean forward much with her most of her midriff all cinched up tight. It was some kind of old steel; she could feel rivets. The big round padlock over her clit hung down low. Not as low as a guy's balls, but that's what it seemed like to her--like someone had bolted a big steel ballsack on her. The big round industrial lock would be more at home on the trailer of a semi-truck than on a chastity belt.

She was in a small suite with all the essentials including a kitchenette, shower, bathroom, bed, table and a few minimal pieces of furniture. Everything had a 1970s college dorm quality and was mostly designed for function above all else. The room looked recently and hastily cleaned. She could see the swirls from the cleaning rag everywhere. The bedding was fairly fresh. She had soap, towels and what appeared to be a new mini-fridge. They were obviously intending for her to stay here. What would the museum director think of that? She was suspicious of their intentions. Trust in the gods. She put it out of her mind for now.

The bathroom door was partially open. A reflection suggested a full-length mirror on its back. She took a couple steps towards it--of course she had to look at herself--and was immediately reacquainted with the phallus inside her. Locked inside her. For a moment, the sensation of penetration took over. The girth of the metal cock filled her while her vaginal muscles reflexively fought to stabilize the weight of the lusterite. Lustful stimulation was an immediate result. She now knew it was a simple matter of discomfort: she must free herself of the belt. Inaccessibility to her pleasure zone was not an option.

Pulling the door open further, Sue caught her first complete look at her 'accessories' in the mirror. She immediately noticed how different she looked with her waist forced to a roughly hour-glass shape. She felt sexy and saw herself in a new, perhaps, hypersexual way. The hour-glass shape must be hardwired into women as well as men. She couldn't remember ever thinking of herself as a fetish object before except as a fantasy. Now she was thrilled with the idea, but she knew the package wasn't complete: big nose, dorky glasses, flat ass, under-size breasts...yes, back to reality.

Regardless, her reasoning begged the question whether it truly mattered. If a man was fucking you, his weight pressing down on you, cock in cunt, did he care about an inch or two on your waist any longer? How big your nose is? Biological selection based on appearance was only part of the equation was it not? How did a great fuck affect evolution? If a woman had a reputation for being loose, would she be selected more? Of course she would. If she was a great fuck, was she more likely to produce offspring? Of course. Sue decided she would start to refuse society's definition of sexuality and would start to define her own like the Nuymeans.

History showed that perceptions of beauty and sexual tastes were mental and cultural, not just biological. A moment looking at renaissance marbles and older definitions of beauty was proof that those definitions can change. What did she think about herself now? She really didn't know anymore, but she was as willing to pass on her genetic code as any slut could ever be--behind the steel over her pussy. She had to find a way to free herself.

She examined the corset first. The leather was heavy and stiff but felt super soft to the touch. The combination of luxurious sensuality and shape-forming restriction was artistic to her. She appreciated it. Still, it was oppressive. She knew the constant compression would be torture sooner or later. Turning to examine the back, she felt a sudden flush of emotion: anger leading the way, closely followed by frustration and then a contrasting feeling of total lust. The laces were not visible. A locked flap covered them. A flexible rod was threaded through the flap sort of like a hinge pin. The small padlock was some kind of high security affair. The keyhole was obviously not typical and it was modern. She couldn't get a really good look since she already was twisting her body to its limits to see that much. The waistband of the chastity belt was also closed over the corset. Even if she could unlock the corset flap, she wasn't likely to get it open without first removing the belt. The corset wasn't coming off anytime soon.

She turned her attention to the belt. The forged and hammered metal was clearly ancient and well-crafted with an age appropriate patina, rather than rust. She knew it was much more than that just something turned out by a village blacksmith, instead a masterpiece of its time. The metal appeared to be Ulfberht steel; the same steel that was used to make some of the best viking swords. She had seen a paper on the subject a year or two ago. Researchers were still arguing over the formula. The belt would date to 800 to 1200 AD without a doubt. In the center of the waistband, she could see one of the variations of the +vlfberh+t mark as born on those swords. This belt appeared to be a special project from an armorer or sword-maker of legendary prowess, quite likely.

The heavy metal waistband was over 2 inches wide and ridiculously thick, about a half inch. She could not see how the waist belt was held closed. Apparently the vertical crotch cover also acted as a clasp of some kind. It ran from the front of the belt down over her sex and up between her ass checks to the back. She would need to see the belt disassembled to understand how the parts connected completely.

The vertical band was very wide in front. She felt like a hubcap was riveted over her sex; the slight dome in the middle prevented her clit from touching anything. She tried getting a finger under the edge. She could get underneath a little, but there was was no way she could reach her clit or gain relief from the weight of the metal dick inside her. All she managed to do was to hurt her fingers. Her crotch was crushed tightly as the band narrowed then extended up between her ass checks. Feeling around, she noticed a urination hole and remembered the defecation hole--neither of which she was looking forward to using. The metal flared around her anus unpleasantly. She wished the band was a little more narrow as it went between her legs. She could feel the edge of the plate on the insides of her legs a bit when she walked.

She pulled at the industrial padlock in frustration. She would liked to have seen the original version. Not all of the ancient padlocks were large affairs. By the time the Vikings were making them, most were smaller than the monstrosity she was wearing. Still, they must have located the hasp for the lock where they did so that it could hidden under a skirt. She pulled at the lock again...out of ideas. She had doubts about whether bolt cutters could even get her out of the belt.

In the end, she was just frustrated and horny from the efforts to free herself. Looking more closely, she saw Nordic runes on the faceplate. She wasn't an expert in runes, but it seemed to be something like "Property of Kjar"--great, just great, a chastity belt with a Viking seal of approval.

She stared at the mirror with a sense of disbelief at the woman looking back. The prim and proper academian that composed her self-identity most of her life, what she thought was her true self, was slipping away. The woman in the mirror was both her and not her: a sexual display and a woman locked up, forever marked on the chest. How did it all happen so fast? She still needed that former self, the former self which would record the results and write the publications, the self needed to be the objective observer, the self which would keep her safe and in control. She must not be lost in this process.

Could the scientist observer still be objective as the subject of their own experiment? Perhaps that was a pitfall of participant archaeology. Too late either way, the experiment was well underway. Ahead of her was a path that was undeniable, and equally unavoidable. She was starting to believe this accidental destiny to become a Nuymean priestess was perhaps her one great moment in life. Like Achilles, she must choose to pay the price of glory or accept obscurity. She would chose glory. All doubt was gone. The person in the mirror, horny and locked up, was her; not a new her, but a discovered self that had been there all along, a sexual being previously denied. A self that was learning to enjoy and cherish sex and not try to hide and deny it because of some culturally programmed guilt and sense of identity.

A week ago, she would have chosen the quiet and safe path. Now everything was different. Her experiences on the chair, in the sex maiden and in the bastard-maker stocks were truly life changing--it was the acceptance. The acceptance that comes from going to such extremes, even facing death in the process, reminded of life's priorities. Yes, acceptance was the missing piece of her mental puzzle. Reality was not what she wanted it to be. Reality is a perception of current events. She was a part of a much more interconnected world than she previously would have acknowledged. She had gone beyond participant archeology. Now her own life was the experiment. At least she wasn't in this alone anymore, even if far too many people knew what she was up to...and seen her naked.

She turned from the mirror thinking about what she would do next while waiting. She had seen other suites like this one in older parts of the museum, usually reused for some other purpose. Back in the day, a Curator could stay right in the museum, immersed in their work. This one seems to have been left intact or perhaps remodelled decades ago. A couple of large windows looked down on the main floor containing the "Herstory" exhibit. Daylight poured through the frosted glass windows high on the opposite wall. She had lost all sense of time lately, but knew she must have slept a long time. She easily located the sex maiden and the bastard maker stocks. They looked like nothing had even happened despite the profound moments she had there. No one was in sight and the lights had been turned back off. She looked all around and did not see her purse or her clothes anywhere from the window.

She could use something to eat and some washing up while she waited. Checking around, she quickly found breakfast had been left for her. The coffee maker was a good place to start. Exactly 3 packets of Splenda, or what she called "fake sugar," and 2 small fat-free single-serving creamer cups were left for her. She found a small package of cereal for the main course. In the fridge was a small cup of cut strawberries, a half-pint of skim milk and a low-fat vanilla yogurt. None of it was what she wanted, but it was all stuff she could stand to eat since she had to. She was hungry enough to eat anything at this point. Some bacon and eggs as part of an otherwise hearty breakfast was more of what she had in mind. The food selection looked carefully planned. Someone was putting her on a diet.

She took her time nursing her food. The coffee was disappointing, but still fit the bill. She started looking at Maggie's book, being careful to keep it clear of stray breakfast damage. A few of the Nuymean glyphs were a bit of a guess. She really needed to get a computer down here. Most of it made sense though.

The next step for her, and the next glyph she would be marked with by the looks of it, was an elaborate ritual of rebirth--the glyph could also mean transformation perhaps. She would need quite an assortment of the liquids and herbal solutions which Maggie had prepared. Now it made sense why Maggie had been so meticulous with them. A lot of the ritual was left unexplained. The book said little more than how to arrange the items on a large stone circle down matching the one here in the annex. She was then to lock herself in the holds and wait to see what happened more or less. No clue about what that would be was to be found anywhere in the book. Still, she trusted the process. Shit. She had to get moving. The whole thing needed to be done on the winter solstice. The first day of winter was only four days away!

Breakfast was a lot more filling than she thought until she realized that the corset was having an effect on the size of her stomach and her bowels. The coffee was having an affect on her bladder too. She tried waiting, but soon had no choice. She was going to find out just how it felt to relieve herself in a chastity belt. The thought that she was probably the first woman to do so in this belt in over 800 years didn't make this experiment in participant archaeology any more attractive. She was going to kill those guys when she caught up with them. This was not funny.



The Curator Ch. 15



Chapter 15: The Mother of...

Sue was in her own world, immersed in Maggie's book. She practically had the thing memorized at this point, but she was trying to read between the lines. If Dr. Barnes had left any hidden clues, Sue couldn't find them. She had no idea what would happen to her during the second rite and what the final trial would be. The obscurity must be by design. She simply needed to wait and see what would happen--not an approach she was happy with at all.

In her mind, she was committed to the process; she would meet the challenge of becoming a Nuymean priestess. Her decision was already made despite not knowing the price she would pay--there was always a price, wasn't there? The general lack of information was a concern, but she was past the point of no return. She felt a sense of finality that made her stomach do flip flops. Her trust was simply expected. Part of the test? Yes, she would face it. Would she measure up? She might fail to meet the expectations of those around her, but she vowed that she would not fail herself. Priestess or failed science experiment? The outcome would tell her: real or imagined, delusion or phenomenon, potential greatness or obscurity.

Several sections of the text had ritualistic language in them along with notes on pronunciation. In all of Dr. Barnes' writings, this was the first mention of how Nuymeanic was actually spoken. How did Maggie know what it sounded like? Regardless, Sue repeated each section over and over, sounding out the words. She knew that she would need to speak them for the ritual, but for what kind of audience?

The Viking chastity belt was a serious distraction. The lock kept clunking around on the chair. She had to lift it up when she sat down to get it out of the way. It made her feel like some ill-mannered ranch hand adjusting his balls after a long ride.

Her naked breasts and mostly naked body gave her a constant feeling of exposure which reminded her of her predicament just as much as the relentless squeeze of the corset. In the end, the effect made her just plain horny. Something about the confinement and lack of access to her own body was making her crazy. A few months ago, masturbation was just a basic needs thing like washing her hair. Now sex was an obsession. She would get on her knees and beg to be released from the belt if that's what it would take. She never wanted to come so badly in all her life, never thinking of sex as an urgent need before. 

Somehow she focused on the book through it all. It was the fear. Phrases like, "I now give my body up to the service of the gods," and "May the gods find me worthy to possess," tended to catch one's attention. She practiced saying them over and over hoping her Nuymeanic was correct. Most certainly, getting such a ritual wrong would be a really bad idea.

She must be ready for the solstice and the second rite despite the short time frame. If this was her life's moment, she was going to grab it with both hands. Waiting another year was not an option she even wanted to think about. She was already formulating a plan. Not only did she want to approach the ritual properly as its subject, she also needed to attend properly to the science involved. She would start by examining the Nuymean ritual circle on the other side of the annex. Chances were slim to none that anyone would see her semi-naked.

As soon as she could get some clothes, Sue would go upstairs to the storage room holding all of the prepared liquids, gels and herbal solutions. She would prepare samples to send off for analysis, especially the main preparations used in the ritual. The more she knew about them the better. The book didn't say what they did, but she knew that they would be mostly likely applied to her body. They weren't lamp oil and incense.

Next, she would look through the other records for more information, now that she had a little better idea what to look for. There had to be more to go on. For example, an ally would conduct the ritual. What or who was the ally? Where did they come from? Some kind of avatar? The book raised more questions than it answered. It was mostly a set of illustrations, hieroglyphs and detailed instructions with no reason or purpose explained.

A knock at the door startled Sue. Finally! She got up carefully to answer the door. The heavy lusterite phallus shifted inside her. She couldn't help but to pry at the ancient steel of the belt once again compulsively--she still had one or two unbroken fingernails. Her goal was only a few millimeters behind the ancient steel, but it may as well have been a mile. Once again she pounded the plate in frustration barely managing to rattle the industrial lock hanging at her crotch. None of the sensation reached the right areas. She stood up straight, trying to look nonchalant, but inside all she felt was indignation.

When she opened the institutional steel door, Sue found Maya waiting anxiously, a little out of breath, wearing her typical tight jeans and long-sleeved top. As usual, her make-up was impeccable. The colder air from the annex poured into the warm suite. Suddenly she was extremely conscious of her naked breasts as her nipples immediately reacted to the draft. She wanted to cover herself, but realized it would betray the embarrassment and insecurity she really felt. She motioned Maya inside so that she could close the door. It definitely felt awkward being mostly naked around someone fully dressed.

Maya was bursting to speak. "I got here as soon as I could. Bill didn't give me much warning before taking off. I guess you all had quite a night last night."

Sue had the impression that Maya was fishing for more details about what happened, maybe they didn't tell her everything. "I don't remember some of it very well, but I can't wait to catch up with those guys for locking me up and leaving me here like this. Please tell me you have the key to this stuff?"

"I'm sorry sweetie, but they had good reason. Don't worry, it'll be over with before you know it, and I'll help you as much as I can."

Not the answer Sue was looking for. "What is that supposed to mean? I can take care of myself. Good reason? This is ridiculous," she fumed.

"So you don't know? I guess you couldn't. You never heard what happened with my Mom."

Whoa! How did she miss that? Sue's head was spinning, but she didn't want to act like she didn't know. She couldn't be talking about anyone else. Maya was the daughter of Dr. Maggie Barnes? Sue could see Charlie's features in her face now. Did everyone else know? Things like this reminded her just how much of a geek she really could be, serious density. She had to start paying attention to last names. Sue didn't want to let on that she didn't know the relationship and tried to keep her best poker face. 

"What happened?" 

Maya took a deep breath. "After a lot of training, women start to go through a process my Mom called alignment. They start to channel an effect, like an aura, when they are in contact with a lusterite phallus. I know its not scientific, but it happens with observable results. The aura can influence the mind. Men's sexual desires can be completely consumed by the power of it. The guys doubted they could resist for long if any of them was alone with you. With women, the aura is more of an individual thing affecting only the woman in contact. My Mom said it physically affected a woman's brain."

Affected the brain? More than a bit scary. Sue remembered the strange events with Bill last night. Maybe that's what happened. None of this was mentioned in the writings. Eureka! Like a flash, Sue had a realization. The lack of men in the Nuymean works and artifacts: this had to be why.

Sue immediately had serious doubts about a possible scientific basis for this aura, but Maya and the guys obviously believed in it and so did the Nuymeans. Perhaps it could be some kind of psychosomatic phenomenon like certain voodoo believers experience, imagined but real to the subject. Regardless, it was a question that needed an answer; she clearly experienced something first-hand the other day. At least, she thought she did.

Where to start? Were they all trying to set her up? She had to allow for that possibility even though she had no reason whatsoever to believe this was all an elaborate hoax. If it were, then how they pulled it off raised even more questions than it answered. What was the motivation anyways? Unlikely.

Could there be a delusion here? Possibly. They all could believe in Nuymean mythology so much that their judgement could not be trusted. Sue certainly wasn't sure if she could trust her own judgement after the ordeal in the sex maiden. She was in and out of consciousness during those events and now Maya was talking about brain alteration. Once again, Sue needed to be both objective observer and participant--not an easy task. If it were a collective delusion, she shared at least some of it.

How could contact with the metal of the phallus change anything? The phalluses are solid metal after all...or are they? She made a mental note to perform a density analysis. Perhaps there could be a device inside. Any internal device would need to be very small given the obvious weight of the phalluses. They had no hint of hollowness. The only other similar phenomena she could think of was the supposed effects of wearing copper bracelets, crystals, and things like that--scant evidence of any truth to be found. There are documented reactive metals though, like nickel with jewelry allergies, rarely cobalt, chromium. It seemed doubtful that lusterite was reactive at all, though, given its density.

Sue realized that Maya had paused waiting for her. "So, how does this all of that relate to your Mother?"

"My Dad got too close to the aura. They didn't even know each other beforehand. Don't you see? The belt is for your own good. My Mom almost died trying to complete the rites and then ultimately failed because she was pregnant. Pregnant with me! You might not know it, but you need all the help you can get." Sue had never seen Maya so emotional.

"So that's why they sent you to see me, because you're immune to the aura and have the wrong equipment to knock me up?"

"Despite their concerns about the aura's effect, that's not the main reason I'm here. There is more that you need to know. Mainly I'm here because everyone thought I was the best one to hold your key."

"Look, for one thing, I have a birth control implant. I don't need anyone locking me up to keep me from getting pregnant."

Maya seemed a bit surprised at that. "Really? You have a boyfriend?"

Sue was a bit annoyed at Maya's reaction, but she understood, maybe. "No, nothing like that. When I was in the field, you couldn't always get pills or anything like that. Things could get out of hand. I was almost gang raped once even. I had to hide in a ditch to get away. My faculty advisor suggested I protect myself clear back when I was finishing up my PhD. I've just never stopped. I stopped getting a period and don't want it back."

Maya seemed a little hesitant. "I'm not sure if that really changes things. You've already been a danger to yourself with the sex maiden for one thing."

"Don't worry, I've learned that lesson."

"Like I started to say, it's not just about men and pregnancy. This alignment thing I mentioned is no joke."

Sue was starting to get a bad feeling about this. She actually thought of tackling Maya right then to take the key from her physically, but she didn't even know if Maya had it with her for sure. She also wasn't sure if the element of surprise would be enough to overpower her. Maya was more athletic and a few inches taller than her.

"Nuymean acolytes would go through alignment as part of their training before they even reached the first rite. The lusterite phalluses act like some kind of hyper-sexual amplifier and tap into some kind of mental power. The aura results indirectly. I'm surprised you didn't read about it in your research."

"I only saw a couple indirect references to something like that. Maybe the Nuymeans regarded it as common knowledge so didn't record anything extra. I'm also surprised your Mom didn't write about it. I need to know what else she told you that isn't documented."

"She learned a lot from the actual dig site and her attempts to complete the rites. I didn't realize that so little of it was written down, but I guess it makes sense. You have to remember she was paranoid and didn't understand a lot of it either--and she did fail to become a priestess in the end. Government agents were checking in on her regularly because of the military interest in lusterite. There was even a Cold War program regarding psychics and remote viewing that was interested. She thought they might confiscate everything someday. This book you've found here; I didn't know it existed existed. She never wrote down some of her important findings. She didn't want the power of a Nuymean priestess to fall into the wrong hands."

The way she said it struck Sue as a bit funny. "It sounds like something from a bad movie or a superhero comic."

Maya smiled a little, evidently out of politeness, then remained serious. "She always told me she saw something which changed her life at the old Nuymean dig site before it was destroyed. By the way, it was deliberately destroyed for secrecy. It's a carefully guarded secret that my Mother was part of that."

"I've always been suspicious of the story. More than a few times I thought about trying to go back to the location to find it. What did she see?"

"She didn't really talk about it, but there was a mural in some kind of hidden sanctum. Something she saw on that mural did it. She never even told my Dad what she saw. He denies it at least, but I believe him."

Sue needed time to pick apart this information. "I need to perform some experiments to try to isolate some of these effects for proper scientific analysis and to learn what's going on." 

"That's all nice sweetie, but your alignment is well underway. It's probably too late to stop it if you used the chair as much as I suspect you did. Normally the whole thing only takes a few weeks. It's going to be a lot more difficult than you might guess."

Sue almost flipped out completely, but took a deep breath. "I can't wear this damned belt for a few weeks! No way! It's already driving me nuts and chaffing some places better left alone!"

Maya was firm. "It'll get worse before it gets better I'm afraid. You're probably horny as hell already. Let's find out. Sue, how horny are you? How uncomfortable is the chastity belt really?"

Sue couldn't believe Maya was asking that so point blank. Her answer just came out again like it did the other day when Bill questioned her. Her doubts about the effects of the aura were completely erased. "I don't know if I've ever been this horny before. The belt really is uncomfortable, but I want it off more because I'm frustrated and want to masturbate very badly."

"There, that wasn't so hard was it? Are you starting to believe that the aura is real?"

Strangely, Sue didn't feel like answering that one so didn't. "I don't know."

"See, the effect is a bit varied. My Mom said that alignment affects the frontal cortex of the brain, where inhibitions regulate behavior. Without those inhibitions, you can't help but answer certain questions. You also might do stupid things like lock yourself in a sex maiden. You have to be protected from yourself."

Perhaps Maya was right. Was this the reason she couldn't get her mind off sex? How could she make a scientific determination? "It has to be a phallus? Why don't I just wear a necklace or something?"

"My Mother tried that it just delayed alignment from occurring. Nothing works but a phallus."

"I still don't know what to think about any of this." Sue's doubts had doubts, but she also felt like there really was something going on here. There had to be a way to make sense of it. Why just a phallus?

"Still, you do see how alignment is affecting your mind?"

Sue certainly understood that something made her answer those questions, but she didn't feel forced. The answers just poured out of her. "I didn't notice anything at all until you started asking me questions."

"It has a lot to do with how the question is asked and the inhibitions involved. Only certain inhibitions related to sex and safety seem to be impacted. Others seem to be unaffected, like control of anger or the desire to eat. You could probably study just the aura alone for years, but we just need to get you through it--one hour at a time if that's what it takes. It's not going to be easy. That's what the surprise is all about."

Sue's anxiety level kept climbing. One hour at a time. What the fuck? The big lock on her crotch said it all. Her wishes were under lock and key. Sue was starting to feel trapped. They were probably right about the dangers. Taking a deep breath, she asked Maya, "OK, let's work this out. Why do I have to be locked up? There has to be a better way."

"Don't worry sweetie, you have help. Dr. Martin and my Dad think that if we keep you exposed to the lusterite as much as possible that the alignment will be done quickly. We can take the belt off then."

"I guess that's why they locked a phallus inside me. Nice and considerate of them. Make me get it over with. I can't even begin to say how pissed off I am right now."

"It's only natural, but you still have to get through it. We know you can do it even if you don't. My Mom said alignment was the best thing that ever happened to her, after it was over with. I feel the same way. Trust me, this is the best way to do it, fast and hard." 

Sue started to move towards the small table. She needed to sit down. She needed to think. Sue hesitated, then lifted her crotch lock and sat down carefully on one of the wooden chairs. She could feel that she was still amazingly aroused despite the mental distractions. One quick touch of her clitoris would send her over the edge if steel didn't block her way. She was embarrassed that her nipples were still completely erect. Maya pretended not to notice, at least--assuming she noticed in the first place. Maya sat across from her and appeared to be thinking about what she would say.

Trust again. This time trust of her friends. Gods would trump friendship in most ideologies. Her friends could be agents of the greater plan could they not? Still, it's hard to feel your friends have your best interests in mind when they lock up your cunt. Gods, though, they don't give a fuck about your desires usually. She'd go with that for now. She was facing more of whatever predestination they had for her, if there is one. She would keep playing the game to find out. Fuck their tests.

Maya broke the silence first. "The training. Do you really know what it's all about?"

Sue had to admit she wasn't quite sure. "I originally thought it was all about sexual endurance, but now I know it's much more than that." 

"Endurance is an important part of it, but you're absolutely right that it's more than that. In the end, there is some kind of bonding that takes place between the priestess and the gods. The lusterite phalluses and sexual abandon are the channel of connection along with an aid to the consummation of the union. My Mom thought of sex as the vehicle between priestess and god."

"More hidden information that I've never seen in any of the written works. I didn't realize it was also so intimately personal. Damn this thing is uncomfortable." Sue tried to adjust the waistband of the chastity belt and twisted some, trying to find a little relief from the corset.

"Bill is driving off to an expert chastity belt maker about 9 hours from here to get you a custom modern belt that should be a lot more comfortable. Normally you have to order them and wait a while, but the builder is doing us a favor for a little extra cash."




The Curator Ch. 16



Chapter 16: Invention

The industrial robot in front of Sue's spread legs was...formidable. Her eyes were glued on the intimidating black rubber cock in front of her. Maya took her glasses so any closer and it would be a hopeless blur instead of a rough outline. A pincer claw held the cock upright at a suggestive angle. The thick girth, black nubs and clitoral stimulator showed it meant business. Yes, intimidating was definitely one word for it, exciting was another. She had never had anything like that up inside her that's for sure. She didn't see any lights on the control panel. Is the robot on? She relaxed for the moment. The cock was more a threat than an eminent attack, then, but she was not convinced.

Positioning sensors, cameras, probes, and a red sighting laser were mounted around the end of the arm behind the three metal fingers of the pincer. The laser was sighted low. She couldn't see it, but she suspected its red dot was aimed right at a rather delicate and sensitive target. At the back of her brain, alarm bells went off. This was too much. Her inhibitions may be compromised, but she knew this was beyond her limitations. She suddenly didn't like this game. Maya's face had a scary mad scientist look to it that caused Sue to get a chill of fear despite the warm boiler room air.

The Eager Beaver 250F was mounted and braced on a wide steel floor plate. She couldn't tell if the plate was bolted to the floor, but it probably was. Hydraulic hoses and cables ran from the robot arm into several different industrial looking devices, motors, pumps and computers. This thing was definitely welding car frames at one time, a half dozen faded decals on the tired paint of the supporting machinery were from automotive companies.

An area around her and the machine was marked off on the floor with black and yellow striped tape. Now she understood why Maya had strapped her to the rack so carefully and so tightly. That thing was built to work with steel, not flesh and bone. Any contact could seriously injure her or perhaps even kill her. She was bound and positioned for some precision robotic attention, but she was also strapped down for her own protection. She wished she could just laugh it off as a cruel joke, but she knew otherwise.

Maya was sitting on a tall chair outside of the marked area, behind the control panel. She turned a key at the upper left corner with one hand and pushed a recessed button that had a protective metal guard with the other. A loud array of sounds started up immediately, but soon died down to leave behind only the sound of some cooling fans and faintly humming motors.

Maya's excitement was evident. "Not surprising that we had to wire it up in here near the main electric panel is it? You'll be amazed at how precise this thing is. It looks big and clunky, but it can easily pick a flea off a dog. Are you ready to see how well it can fuck?"

Sue panicked and her eyes shot straight to the cock in front of her. When she looked back towards Maya, she could see her grinning ear to ear. Bitch. It was just her way of reminding Sue that she was gagged and helpless.

"You can thank Marty for this one. It was a pet project of the late robotics expert George Englevol. His family donated quite a few prototypes and one-of-a-kind models. As usual, most of them went into storage and Not for Display. A few of them were a bit naughty, in a genius, mad scientist, sexual deviant, kind of way. You'd hardly know it though by looking at the machines themselves. I'm sure his family didn't know what they were donating. Dr. Martin managed to get this one transferred to his department classified as 'Rock sample processor, non-functional.' The man knows his bureaucracy."

Maya hit a button that started blinking immediately. Several others followed in sequence on the control panel. The arm retracted and spun, 180 degrees away from Sue, in one smooth, very fast, motion. It moved towards a low metal bin with high protective sides, and gently placed the rubber cock inside, out of sight. Sue desperately wanted to know what else might be hidden inside. The arm then spun back around facing her with the pincer claw up. An orange light lit near a sign with the some blurry words over a gray air tank. Between her bad eyes and the faded paint, Sue could only make out that the first letter was an "S." Maybe for "Safety" or "Stopped?" 

Maya cautiously crossed the black and yellow tape to a small machine that looked a bit like a small vacuum cleaner. She untangled a cable and unhooked some kind of short metal tube about the diameter of a vacuum cleaner nozzle.

"This thing is only a few years old, but the technology still can't figure out nipples on its own."

Maya pressed the end of the tube against Sue's chest, low in the "V" of her cleavage, below her Nuymean tattoo. She pressed a clear button on top of the device. The button blinked red and Sue felt something warm on her skin along with a weak suction. Maya let go and the tube stayed in place. What the hell? She started to pointlessly struggle again. This could not be good. In less than a minute, her breath was wheezing through her nose from the exertions.

"Calm down Sweetie, just a little calibration. These markers are like those yellow and black circles on crash dummies. You know what I mean? A plus in the middle with black and yellow checkered quarters? The robot uses them to find its bearings."

Somehow it wasn't very reassuring to Sue that she was being intimately mapped. If the first circle was low in her cleavage, where would the other ones go?

"Stickers can fall off, so they use some kind of sweat-proof thermal ink instead. It just takes a few seconds to bake on."

Maya noticed Sue's alarmed reaction and smiled. Not surprising that she didn't like the idea of baked on marks. Maya decided that she was going to wait a few days before telling Sue that they can easily be removed with acetone. She can enjoy her little souvenirs for a while. Besides, the most important one will be under the chastity belt anyways.

After the light stopped blinking, Maya removed the tube. Sue could see a round yellow and black blur, but that was it. The angle was too steep a slant even without her visual limitations. Maya checked the marker and seemed satisfied. "That isn't coming off anytime soon." What the hell?

Maya seemed to be in full blown professional mode now. The artist and cosmetologist in her coming out, but she changed tactics. Next, she knelt slowly, cautious of her knees on the hard floor, in front of Sue's open legs, to place the end of the warm tube directly above her slit. The bottom edge was as close as she could get it to the apex of Sue's opening. Sue would like to have denied that the warm ink baking onto her skin was erotic, but in truth it felt very intriguing. 

Maya kept at it. Each bicep got a marker on the front, facing out. Each thigh came next, a bit high on the inside, but Maya was careful to position them precisely; her steady hands serving her well. 

After double checking the markers, Maya picked up two pairs of safety glasses with red lenses. "I would have just put your blindfold back on, but I know that you want to see everything for the sake of science. Watch carefully so you don't miss anything."

Sue never thought of Maya as an obnoxious tease before, but she was starting to think that way now. Maya put one pair of glasses on Sue then put on her own pair.

"Don't look into the laser."

Maya picked up what looked like a TV remote short a few buttons, then reached for the robot arm. She grabbed a handle near the head of the robot and started moving it towards Sue. The whole arm seemed to respond and track under power. Maya guided the red dot straight to the marker in the middle of Sue's cleavage and kept going until a small rod projecting from near the laser lens touched the middle precisely. A soft beep from the console echoed between the concrete block walls of the boiler room. Next, she did each of Sue's nipples, then the arm and thigh markers as well as the base of her throat and each of her major joints. The whole time, Sue felt an increasing dread, but was still more anxious to get on with it than anything else, excitement overcoming fear.

"This is my favorite part."

Maya set aside her safety glasses then knelt in front of Sue's open legs again.

"There are probably other ways of doing this, but I like this way most."

Sue was repulsed a little when she first felt Maya's tongue teasing her outer labia. She really had never figured Maya as gay before. Maybe she was bisexual? Either way, Sue had never had any interest in sex with other women. The thought of being taken by a cock inside is what made her start juicing in her panties. Wait, no, Maya wasn't bi. That's why she could not be a Nuymean priestess. How simple. The Nuymean gods are all heterosexual fuckers. It's probably nothing more complicated than that.

She thought over what she had seen and read. The Nuymean people embraced all forms of sexuality. This was a simple matter of parts compatibility, especially if her suspicions that having sex is part of the final trial. One thing Sue realized for sure is that you better enjoy a cock filling your cunt if you want to be a Nuymean priestess. Truly, enjoyment should be part of enlightenment. A priestess would have to enjoy what she was doing, eventually. Sue was learning that. Again, the acceptance. Being part of things, but more. Embracing them, enjoying them and being aware of it all: those are the key factors. She needed to teach herself to enjoy.

In fact, she decided to take her own advice. Sue closed her eyes and let Maya do her thing. Yes, this was no different. She should have realized before. Another test. This robot could be a test of her resolve as well. Shit, how religion can mess with the mind. Was this really all part of some larger plan? Now she was really a mess. There is no science here. No proof. Did she believe it or did she not? Fuck it. She was going to get a grip. Open-minded? Yes, but she needed evidence. Until then, it really doesn't matter. That's the point. Why is this happening to her? Because it is. Stop analyzing, get fucked. That's the only plan I need right now.

Oh! Maya penetrated her a little with the tip of her tongue and was licking her juices. Sue was starting to enjoy the feeling. Maya obviously knew was she was doing. Oh so good. Sue would have been writhing and thrusting if she could. What an evil bitch. Any time Sue started to get close to coming, Maya backed off to a slow tease again. She was deliberately tormenting Sue. Her nether lips were so engorged now that they were parting on their own. Her clit was firm. Close, very close, just a little bit more!

"There, that ought to do it."

Maya stopped and went back to scanning. Sue tried desperately to scream, "NO!" It came out of her nose more like a snort. You tongue ravish me and then leave me hanging! Cruel. Mean. Bitch!

"Sorry sweetie, just needed a nice, easy-to-find target for the laser. See what you've been missing? Your cute little clit is ready for the crosshairs now. Besides, you aren't the only one aching for a tongue on her pussy right now and suffering is better shared."

She took several rather intimate readings and directed the laser right to Sue's swollen bud. "There, locked on target."

Maya put the laser away and walked back toward the other equipment. She came back with a small probe with a flat plastic end piece. Sue recognized it as a hospital ultrasound probe. Sure enough, as soon as she got the probe cord straightened out, Maya squirted some gel on Sue's mound. Shit that's cold. There was no screen to watch, instead, Maya just ran the probe slowly up and down over Sue's mound.

"This tells the computer everything it needs to know about what's inside. It needs to know how far it can jamb that big rubber cock up inside without tearing anything."

Maya had that sinister mad scientist look again. Sue got even more nervous, not realizing that being more nervous was possible. After a little while longer running the probe up and down, there was another beep from the control, a pause, then a double beep.

"There you go sweetie. All measured, calibrated and recorded." 

The whole time Sue was in torment. Her arousal was refusing to fade. She knew Maya saw it. How could she not? As Maya wiped the ultrasound gel off, Sue's arousal was back to full force just from the paper towel. Just a little more pressure on the towel was all she needed. Please?

"Nothing like alignment. My Mother would have said you are in full flowering right now. I can tell by how your body responds. Earlier than we thought. Glad I have you strapped down right now when it happened. It's really an incredible feeling isn't it?"

Maya sharply flicked her middle finger directly onto Sue's engorged clit. Sue's whole body spasmed within her bonds, reacting to the pure evil pain of it. It took her breath away. Overcome by a feeling of shock and faintness that made her head swim, she didn't even snort a suppressed scream from behind the gag. Maya did it two more times, each feeling more horrible than the last. Sue thought she was going to black out from the last one, struggling to breathe around the gag, gasping in what seemed like a fight for her life.

Maya just stood back and waited. No grin. She knew just what she had done.

No sooner did Sue's breath start to return than she could feel her clit throbbing again with arousal. Her body was transforming the pain into lust--intense, fierce, lust. She almost orgasmed from it. Sue couldn't believe her body was responding the way it was.

"Definitely flowering. Sorry sweetie, but I had to test you to know for sure. The way your little nub reacts says it all, bouncy like rubber. You're in the final stretch now, it should all be over within days. Flowering is the peak and alignment ends shortly after it's over. You'll be a horny little bunny in heat until then, ready to fuck anything. Orgasm will only bring some temporary relief. Strapped down like you are, I could leave you here for hours and you'd still be just as horny when I got back. You won't be able to come without stimulation. Poor little fuck bunny."

Maya was pushing other buttons on the console now. The robot arm was starting to move in a routine, apparently a warm-up and test cycle, moving, pausing, moving again. No, Sue was definitely not liking this game.

Maya came over closer to Sue while the robot worked. "After a while, you will do anything to come. Trust me. In fact, you are probably already desperate, aren't you? Should I let you?"

Sue shook her head "yes" somewhat frantically.

"If your arms were free, you would soon find out that masturbating with your fingers is useless. With just fingers, you can't bring yourself off enough for the aching lust to cool for more than a few minutes. I fucked myself with a dildo for hours until I couldn't even hold the plastic any longer. That was when my Mom found me--a crying, hopelessly horny, come-soaked mess. I didn't know what was happening to me. I didn't know how to control it. I was just a crazy naked lust zombie."

The console beeped. Maya checked the lights and hit a couple other buttons.

"I'm here for you. I almost forgot how hard this can be. None of us would let anything like that happen to you. Alignment is much harder after puberty. Just listen to what I tell you and I'll get you through it. We know what to do now. The cause and the cure are the same."

A loud motor sound kicked in as an air compressor pumped up one of the tanks. Soon, it wheezed and stopped.

"Not long now, little bunny. I'll have this machine fucking your brains out shortly and you'll feel better. We'll get some of those excess hormones burnt off. Before long you'll be wishing you could stop orgasming. I'm just glad we caught you when we did."

Maya reached under the console and came closer with a sports bottle. She recognized it from the vending machines upstairs. She squirted a little liquid around the gag. Sue had to admit, it did feel good, but citrus mystery flavor? Ugh. She didn't get much of a drink either.

"Must keep your hydration up there little sexlete. No cramping."

Maya returned the bottle then pulled out another bottle with a pump dispenser. Sue recognized it as well. Her bottle of sex lube, not much left of it. It was almost full before.

Maya pumped some of the lube onto her fingers and smeared it on Sue, right where it mattered. She was very careful and delicate. Again, a tease. She could easily have helped Sue reach climax. Why won't she let me come? Maya dispensed another pump and ran her fingers inside Sue's gaping slit.

Something in Sue snapped. She wanted it so bad. The teasing was impossible to tolerate. Arrggh! I would fuck anything right now. I'm such a slut. My cunt is wide open just asking for it. My body has never been like this. How is this happening? What are they doing to me? I can't even think clearly. Fuck me, please, by all that is sacred fuck me. Oh, those fingers!

For the second time Maya stopped. Fucking bitch! That evil grin. No, no, no. Bitch, bitch, bitch! Sue tried to thrash, but got no satisfaction from the effort at all. 

"Should we start with that big black rubber cock? Maybe working up to that latter would be better. Maybe we should start out slow and small instead."

Sue felt a surge of lust and a surge of fear at the idea. She didn't care. Something. Anything. Stimulation. Bring it on, whatever it was, she would fuck it.

Maya was busy dialing something up on the console.

"The machine doesn't know if you orgasm or not. It just keeps going regardless. I could watch and count, but I'd probably get it wrong. So, to appease the gods, for the sacred number 9, I think we should go by time. I've set it for 9 hours."

What! No! Sue shook her head "no" frantically. How could she take 9 hours just being strapped like this? Her jaw alone was killing her.

Maya hit the button and the Eager Beaver surged to life. The arm swung rapidly to the bin and dipped inside. She heard a couple noises from inside as her heart thudded. 9 hours, I can't take 9 hours. 

The arm swung around with amazing speed. Startled, Sue actually blinked and turned her head, afraid it might hit her. She briefly saw the laser on her chest. With two quick moves, the arm was starting to press a clear plastic dome over her left breast. The base had some kind of goo on it. Not what she had in mind at all. Where is that cock?

"Don't worry my little bunny, I've set the big bad machine to a slow careful speed. I programmed the first few selections, then set it to go into a random selection mode."

She heard a motor start from behind the arm. Instantly, she felt pressure under the dome. Suction. No, wait, shit, strong suction! Ow! Just about the time the full sensation registered, the robot disengaged a short black hose and its pincer claw from the dome. It stayed on her breast like it was glued there. Her whole breast extended into the vacuum under the plastic, stretched by the suction. It was painful, but tolerable, maybe. She sure didn't like it either way. Her hard nipple throbbed inside. If she could reach the dome, she would tear it off in a second.

"I figured I'd introduce you to some of the possible attachments first. I didn't give you the grand tour of the capabilities and options, but I think you'll figure it out."

The arm was back again with another cup for the right breast before had time to catch her breath. It whirred away to the bin again, with a short puff of discharged air, leaving her with two aching plastic-covered breasts. With the second dome, the feeling somehow seemed four times worse. Why did Maya feel the need to torture her breasts? Surely that's what this was. How could this feel good in any way?




The Curator Ch. 16



The arm swung back again. Another cup? It was shaped differently, smaller and more oblong. The laser was pointed lower down this time. NO...

The suction on her vulva was a feeling Sue would never forget. It seemed to pull her lips back in on themselves while drawing her clit out harder than ever. She couldn't see the dome at all, but it felt like her love bud was probably turning purple like her breasts had. The robot arm was just sitting there in front of her. All she did was ache with lust. Still unable to come and just enduring the pain.

Maya was carelessly sitting behind the console texting on her phone. She looked up and saw the machine stopped. The evil smirk was back. She hit a button on the console. The red digits of the countdown clock stopped and started blinking 8:51.

Maya came to Sue and crossed the yellow and black tape. She ignored the robot and reached up to check the clear plastic domes, pulling and wiggling each one.

"My, my, they sure are on there good. My little bunnies' titties are starting to turn purple. I'm a little more interested in her other bunny parts though. Oh yes, on there good as well."

What the hell is with her? Is she sadistic? Sue was frantic at this point with anger, frustration and the needs of her body. 

Maya steps back. With that evil grin again, she starts to undress, shoes first, then top. She turns around and wiggles out of her tight jeans like she's trying to put on a show for Sue. She's wearing a tiny thong. Never had the nerve for one of those. Off it comes too. Maya undoes her bra, but holds it to her chest. She turns to face Sue, but what Sue notices is not her striptease but her tattoo. She has the same one as Sue does. At least it looks like it's the same. She can't be sure without her glasses. However, she also has another lower down, above her bare sex. Sue can't make it out well enough to know what it says for sure. She gets a solid look for only a second. One of the runes is for servant. Definitely. Not the good one either. The Nuymean language can have different levels of attribution on certain words. They imply status and formality. This was the low status form of "servant." Yes, it had to be. This rune effectively meant "slave."

Maya's breasts were magnificent, like a fertility goddess. Sue couldn't help but stare. She always wondered just what they might look like. One need not be a lesbian to wonder about such things, do they? They hardly sag or bounce. They had a "full of milk" quality to their shape, for lack of a better way to describe it, but not the shape pregnant women can get. Sue always thought her bra was the reason for her shape, evidently not.

Maya noticed Sue's stare and just stood there with a smile and a predatory look in her eyes. Suddenly Sue was very uncomfortable. Maya chuckled a little and turned. She exaggerated the wiggle of her hips as she sat back on the tall chair at the console. She reached under the console top and pulled out a vibrator. Hey, that's MY vibrator!

Again, her office had been invaded. Maya must have seen the anger in Sue's eyes.

"Don't worry little bunny. I used my Mom's old key. Your little sanctuary and its drawer of goodies is safe. You see, that used to be her office."

Somehow Maya having the only other key wasn't very reassuring. The confirmation that her private space was invaded hurt. How could Maya be doing all of this to me?

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing your little fuck buddy here. I don't think you'll be needing it anymore."

Maya plugged it into an outlet on the side of the console and turned it on. She kept staring at Sue's body the whole time she masturbated. Well, not her whole body. Sue never felt so objectified and humiliated before, but her body was still in sexual overdrive. She needed to come herself and not just watch Maya. Her breasts were aching even more now. Her pussy felt like it had been tied in a knot. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Maya reached over and pushed a button on the console. The countdown resumed. Maya then pushed another button and the robot arm started to move. Sue still couldn't believe how fast it was. With some kind of twisting pull, it popped the dome off her left breast. The sudden release of pressure caused a rush of pain that she was not expecting. Before she could even catch her breath, the arm was emerging from the storage bin again. The laser flash zipped from the middle of her chest to her freed left nipple: her painfully swollen, exposed, left nipple. The pincers grabbed it and pulled gently. It didn't feel very gentle, in another second, as it stretched her tissue further. She felt something extra. From between the pincers, something of chrome metal emerged. As it was released, it clamped down on her nipple painfully. She felt a brief tug as something disengaged from under the pincer, then the arm was off to her other breast.

Sue stared in disbelief at the nipple clamp. Oh fuck it hurt! How had the arm released that? She answered her own question when she realized that the arm would be able to do all sorts of things like clips, clamps, hoses and the like when it worked on cars. In fact, the clamp wasn't all that different looking from a clip that might go on the trim of a car.

Maya turned up the vibrator and was leaning back, clearly enjoying herself. Sue could see Maya watching the arm intently as it popped Sue's right breast free and proceeded with clamping it the same way. As the other clamp went on, Sue noticed the flush on Maya's skin. She must be getting close. The arm zipped to the bin again and came back with a little silver bell which it delicately hung from the nipple clamp. Two seconds later, the other clamp had a bell as well. Sue could barely move, but she could hear the damn bells tinkling.

The robot arm swung straight down after releasing the bell. Sue heard a hissing and felt a pop over her cleft. The returning blood flow was a mix of pain and pleasure as a warmth spread, but she was still without climax and still just ached painfully from the lack of sexual release.

Maya looked over at the countdown clock while working the vibrator on herself. She was clearly ready to climax on her own soon. Sue could never remember being so jealous of anyone.

The robot arm came up out of the bin with the black rubber cock. Finally! Sue's breath was increasing involuntarily at the sight. The robot brought the cock over to a small shoebox-sized metal compartment that was bolted on the outside of the front-most machine. A small plastic tank on top and clear plastic hoses made it look a little like something from an aquarium. The robot thrust the cock inside of the device and started spinning the pincers. Pulling it out slowly and carefully, Sue could see it was now covered with lubricant. The spinning seemed to prevent drips. The arm moved very slowly, presumably to keep the lubricant from being shaken off. Maybe it was just another tease?

Maya was watching the whole thing, her breath getting faster. Sue's reactions were so precious; she seemed so scared. She watched the cock like it was a circling shark. Still, she was doing OK. Charlie and Martin said to test her, make sure she's tough in every bit of her intimate geography. So far so good. No hysteria. No hyperventilating, at least not much. No passing out. Best of all, no crying. She was proud of her semi-crazy act to keep Sue off balance. A friend wouldn't be so mean and Sue would have felt too safe. She needed to put that academic mind of hers completely off balance. The resulting reaction was so delicious. My little fuck bunny.

Working the vibrator harder, she had a front-row seat as the big knobby cock inched towards Sue. The laser took its reading. The arm lined the cock up. Now was the fun part, a little tease for Sue. The arm just held there. She knew it would be below Sue's range of vision. The cock spinning slowly just below her pussy. Maya could see the anticipation. Sue had no way to know if it would penetrate her any second, in an hour, in a minute or was just another tease. 

Maya watched the countdown. She could see the sweat on Sue now. Oh, what a horny little bunny alright. 3..2..1... The robot pushed the cock home using the precise force vector, stopping with the clitoral stimulator perfectly and firmly on target. The activation of the vibration feature was also timed to the millisecond, right as the cock settled into place it started buzzing like a swarm of bees from hell's garden. Damn, it was loud. Maya smiled in satisfaction as she heard Sue gasping out her long awaited orgasm. Oh my sweet little bunny, she's crying tears of happiness. The spasms went on and on, so did her own. Maya couldn't remember coming so hard in months.



The Curator Ch. 17



Chapter 17: Togetherness

Maya was bored and killing time while Sue watched with contempt from the rack. For Sue, the whole boiler room had become a cyclical time bubble of constant fucking. She had no concept of whether she had been racked and "serviced" by the Busy Beaver robot for an hour or 5 hours since she could not see the countdown clock anymore; Maya had turned it sideways to face the console where she sat catching up on e-mail, texting and even playing video games on her tablet computer and smartphone to pass the time.

Sue could only wonder what her own inbox was like and had no idea what happened to her purse and phone. Were they preventing her from getting to such devices for some reason? Actually, she didn't really care and was glad to be free of technology for now. With everything that had happened in the last several days, being helpless and controlled was a relief at the moment. She needed some time to think and get her head together.

If not for the nipple clamps and the damn bells dangling from them, Sue might even have been able to enjoy her predicament. Instead, every jingle reminded her of inability to remove the painful clips. It was probably her imagination, but it seemed as if they were getting tighter and heavier over time.

Maya was taking pictures on her phone again. "You're expression is priceless. Poor little rabbit, I know the nipple clips are really unpleasant. They're damn hard to get off too. The clips used to hold trim on a car apparently. Dr. Englevol's notes on the machine say they're safe for a while yet but that the machine doesn't have a removal feature for them. We found out the hard way with Cindy. I guess it only assembled and didn't disassemble, but don't worry I have a brand new set of wire cutters for later, only used once. When he gets back, Bill can squeeze them hard enough to cut the clips off."

Maya didn't seem to notice that Sue wasn't really paying attention to her. Sue was light-headed and had a queasy stomach. An unusual energy was coursing through her body making her insides warm--like she had just drunk an extra large coffee on a cold day. It was also hard for her to concentrate. Her mind was racing, and she was completely wired. All of it seemed fueled by hormones and lust. Sue wasn't worried, though, since she knew what it was. The intensity of sensation and consuming lust could be nothing else; the effects of flowering and alignment were increasing. 

The pain in her nipples grew more distant as her attention returned to following every little movement of the black rubber cock as it slowly and methodically probed in and out. After a while, the pattern changed again, and she was drawn to the texture of the small rubber knobs twiddling her labia as the cock was slowly thrusting in and out. The effect caused her to be keenly aware of every millimeter of the shaft and the mechanical exploration to which she was subjected.

The robot seemed to move the little clit stimulator in and out independently of the cock next to it. She couldn't really see down there to figure it out. She just knew that sometimes the cock would be deep inside yet she would still not feel the stimulator. Most of the time, the stimulator made just a whisper of contact--no doubt a planned and calibrated amount of contact. The vibration of the cock was dialed back as well as if to be more of a tease. Even though the robot was running slow and steady, her sexual frustration level was building with no end in sight. Also, no doubt, a carefully considered effect.

The squid had taught her plenty about frustration. The robot's attempts to tease her seemed almost tame by comparison. She knew how the game was played. She was intended to dwell and obsess over when (or if) she might eventually be allowed to come again so that a pattern of build up, need, desire, and delayed gratification would fuel a crescendo of excitement before she was driven to an earth-shattering orgasm. Been there, done that. Her body definitely was subject to the technique. Oh, it worked alright. She was looking forward to that programmed orgasm like a crack-whore waiting for her next fix. Mentally, however, she was strangely devoid of emotional involvement. The drama was too contrived to be convincing after what she had already been through. The robot would get around to fucking her in earnest eventually...hopefully it would be soon.

With no end in sight, Sue was in conservation mode. Accepting her helplessness begrudgingly, she stopped her pointless struggling against the straps awhile ago in order to save breath and energy. Struggling to catch her breath with her mouth plugged by the Nuymean gag was its own form of torture, especially with the relentless squeeze of the corset adding more resistance. She knew all too well the physical toll that the constant fight for breath would eventually exact on her after her experience in the sex maiden. She had to remain calm and breathe through her nose. Still, she couldn't help clinching, relaxing and shifting in response to the internal probing. 

The probing seemed awkward. The Eager Beaver robot might be a high precision machine, but it was not sensitive to her responses and knew nothing except bits and bytes. Her responses were just anticipated input parameters to the programming done by the good Dr. Englevol. The methodical bastard made sure that among the variety of motions, random sequences and variable timing every millimeter of her vagina was probed and prodded. Nevertheless, Sue began to recognize the patterns even though the information was of little use. She had no means of reacting on her own, immobilized on the rack, but she had cracked the code. Sue waited for one particular move; the only previous pattern in the set which stimulated her to orgasm.

She had that special pattern memorized. The robot cock would start to circle, counter clockwise, a little wider each time. As it circled, the thrusting would move in and out bringing the clit stimulator closer and closer. Soon she would feel it brushing a little harder each time. After 6 circles and 18 thrusts, she would start to feel a stronger touch. By the 18th circle, her clit would be aching for release. The magic would start as the rubbing on the outside paired with the probing on the inside. The cock vibrations would speed up and the thousands of nerve endings bundled in that special little bud of flesh would consume her being. By the 42nd circle, it would start to hurt a bit as she finished orgasming her brains out. The 46th circle was somewhat painful with little pleasure. She didn't get much post-orgasmic sensitivity, but the machine simply kept going either way. She would ride out the overload then could feel more comfortable. After the 52nd circle, the robot would switch to a new program in the random sequence. The problem was that there had to be at least 40 different techniques programmed into the thing. Of all of them, this pattern was the only one which really did it for her. The only sequence of programming that hit the right buttons of her biological machine.

The latest tease was interrupted as the robot unexpectedly pulled the cock out. It coated the rubber thoroughly using the lubing compartment and then slowly spun the knobby rubber rod back towards her without spilling a drop. After a quick scan of the targeting laser, the cock was thrust abruptly back inside, clit stimulator in alignment. Another glob of excess lube was squeezed off the cock as her pussy lips enveloped it, adding to the puddle on the floor beneath her. The whole process took under 4 seconds.

As soon as she was intimately repacked, the robot switched to the next program. Fuck! She hated this pattern. The cock started pounding in and out like a piston, fast and hard, probably twice to three times a second. Her belly was shaking from the vibrations and her nipple bells were playing a jolly chorus. If not for the gag, her teeth would be rattling. Back behind the robot arm, the cooling fans were kicking up, and the air compressor came on. All she could do was hold her breath and wait for it to end, a cruel and rough kind of fucking that really set off more alarms than fireworks for her. This program seemed to be an attempt to intimidate her, and she didn't have any use for such drama anymore.

Finally. The cock stopped, and she exhaled through her nose with a bit of a snort. She practically wheezed as she tried to get her breath back. The robot, however, was already starting the next program, a slow steady pumping. She could really feel the penetration in and out, deep and forceful, knob-by-knob. Each thrust had a brief hold before changing direction. Her body was trying to push her hips back against the thrusting without her conscious direction. Strapped tight, that wasn't happening, but her body kept trying anyway. She realized she should stop the compulsive attempt at movement to save energy, but she didn't want to. The struggles were turning out to feel good.

Sue was starting to enjoy the way being bound increased the intensity of sensation, helpless to escape the cock inside her, but liberated from choice and action. From a rational point of view, the futile struggling should just be a negative feeling of frustration and pointlessness. From a physical point of view, aroused as she was, the struggling ignited Sue's dysfunctional lust like jet fuel. She had gone full circle from curious to kinky without even trying. How had it happened so fast? Do you learn to have a fetish or are you born with it? Regardless, she was starting to love bondage. She tested the straps, and they felt...comforting.

Sue had not climaxed during the last dozen or so different programs, but the current program was definitely getting to her. Her body was more than ready and letting her know. Again a beep and the cock was quickly gone, back to the lubing compartment, leaving her pussy dripping and abandoned. Could this thing be any more annoying? She waited as the arm returned to hover below her slit. Is it a malfunction? After at least 5 minutes, she was still waiting. Go ahead, tease me some more, think I care? I'll still be here waiting when you get around to it you fucking pile of scrap. Right there! Empty hole! Go ahead, fuck me you piece of shit. Better turn up the horsepower, I'm not fucking impressed!

Sue was shocked at her own anger. The pressure of seething frustrations was too great to hold back any longer; the cork had finally popped. It wasn't just the endless teasing from the robot. Everything felt like it was coming down around her, from the Director hounding her about publications to the freakin' snow outside trapping her at the museum. Charlie, Bill, Martin...all of them. They were treating her like a child, and she was sick of it.

Her shattered composure was only a bellwether for the transformation overtaking her. Her rage disappeared as fast as it came, but it had ignited a hidden passion. She could feel her blood at a low boil while every hormone she had surged from her glands. Alignment had won. She couldn't fight its energy. Instead, she embraced the liberated passion like a long lost friend. She would not argue with the other part of herself any longer. She was a depraved slut, spread open, getting fucked and loving it, even longing for it. OK. Fine. A label. A role. Cunt. Whore. Slut. Bring it on. All of it was a dimension of her--not an identity. She was also Dr. Susan Kensington the scientist, scholar and so much more. Why could they not co-exist, each part of who she was? No conflict was necessary. Society could shove its narrow-eyed judgments of culture and religion up its ass. Fuck it all. She denied that artificial morality of sex, those constraints of supposedly normal behavior: the chains of others trying to control and manipulate her.

She knew how wrong she had been; the battle of viewpoint was not just observer and participant. Dignity must balance with depravity; mind and body; sensual and intellectual. Who she was; what she did; what she knew, and even what she had accomplished in life suddenly seemed trivial compared to what she could discover and what she could learn; what she could experience, and what she could become. It was about passion and being in the moment. Now the moment at hand was erect and waiting just in front of her pussy. That's what the Nuymeans were trying to teach. How had she never realized just what her life had been so devoid of feeling?

The robot was still waiting to shove another lesson in overcoming inhibitions and acceptance up her cunt, but she now knew that lack of inhibitions was not the goal of Nuymean training. It was the first step in the process. Inhibitions block the passion of the deeper self so need to be removed. It was as simple as that. She needed to find that passion in all aspects of her life and learn to follow her heart without fear, let her body have crazy make-up sex with her mind. Mutual forgiveness for past wrongs would be balanced with mutual acceptance. Right here, right now, she felt a moment of that perfect balance. In that moment of peace and calm, those last obstacles of inhibition and social conditioning exploded like a stick of dynamite, fucked out of her. Their pointlessness was now completely apparent. She was ready to define herself now, not be defined. She reclaimed the part of her sanity that had been slipping away. No...more than that. She had an epiphany. She was aligned and knew it. Maya was right, it probably was the greatest thing that ever happened to her.

Aaahh, holy fuck! With a smooth precision thrust, the robot rammed the cock up inside to the full and calculated depth. One second her pussy was empty, the next second filled, penetrated and stretched. A small shockwave rippled through her flesh from the abrupt and forceful insertion. The corset helped to channel it upwards to set the nipple bells ringing again. In response, she felt a hint of an orgasmic contraction, but the stimulation was over too quick to set off the big O.

The Eager Beaver followed its schedule and started a new program. One circle, the circle? Oh yes, the pattern. Her eyes widened. By the 5th circle, she was ready, desperately ready. Her emotions shifted instantly to hope. Maybe, for once, please...yes, keep going...please...this feels so good. Oh, yes...

Suddenly the console beeped, and the cock stopped. Sue looked over towards Maya to see her just sitting there playing a game on her smartphone. She looked up, just as surprised by the beeps as Sue. A couple lights on the console shifted, and the robot pulled the cock out. What the hell? Did it break? Instead of going to the lube compartment, it went all the way back to the bin.

Sue almost lost it completely. God I ache. Now of all times? She might have let loose a maniacal laugh if she could. Drama. Fuck it. She knew it was just a mindless machine, and she also knew it would be worth the wait. The game was almost boring now--despite it's utter effectiveness. She was actually enjoying it on some level, but for how long?

The arm reappeared with a golden phallus in its grippers, a Nuymean phallus! Maya and the others must have loaded it in the bin. This wasn't denial torture, just an equipment change. She couldn't tell which phallus it was without her glasses, but it didn't matter. Less than 3 seconds later, the Eager Beaver had it lubed and targeted.

Aaahh, holy fuck! With a smooth precision thrust, the robot rammed the cock up inside to the full and calculated depth. The lusterite was warm as if heated in the bin. It was one of the larger versions. The Nuymean guide would have rated it at the upper end of challenging. She closed her eyes, following the motions. The robot was resuming the same program. Delight. Each circle and move was calculated, within established tolerances, programmed by a completely obsessive engineer who decided that this machine was somehow the ultimate way to fuck a woman senseless. She couldn't help but wonder about his motivations. No...his passions. Yes, she was experiencing the results of the kind of passion she did not have--even if his passions were more than a bit odd. 

Gradually, the motion started to change while the amplitude of the thrusting increased. The robot had never done that before. Sue noticed Maya was fiddling at the console almost as if in a trance. With each thrust, it pulled a little further out, just a bit, but it was hard to discern. The speed shifted as well, out slow, in fast, out gently, in hard. Oh, yes, oh... Soon it was pulling all the way out except for the very last millimeters of the tip. Each thrust opened her up anew followed by deep penetration up to just short of her cervix. She had never felt anything like it. It wasn't entirely pleasant, but it did feel like she was getting thoroughly and completely fucked like she had never been fucked before, roughly and utterly.

Maya was watching her the whole time with a blank stare. What happened to her playfulness? Something is wrong with her. She kept adjusting the controls as she watched Sue's responses. Sue no longer recognized the program. Whatever Maya was doing had kicked the Busy Beaver into overdrive. The fans and motors running louder and faster as the arm picked up pace. Yes, hell, fuck, yes! Each thrust was met with an intimate contraction. Her muscles squeezed compulsively in reflex from the invasion, fighting to protect themselves.

As the phallus was moving up and down, she suddenly felt something odd. No, maybe not. The machine continued with some slow and steady thrusting. There it is again. She could swear the phallus moved on its own. How? Suddenly Sue's awareness detached and shifted from participant/victim to observer/scientist again. Could the phallus be obtaining power from the machine somehow? Magnetic field? Loose wire? Does it need to be powered? Maybe it was still charged up from before? Apparently, Nuymean stone, Nuymenite or Nuymenide, was not the entire picture.

Now Maya seemed to be cranking every knob on the console up to max. Sue was grateful for Maya's careful setup earlier. If she moved even a bit while the robot arm was operating at this speed, it would certainly injure her. The Busy Beaver was thrusting in and out like a jackhammer, but it was not unpleasant like the other program. Suddenly, the robot was expert in its ministrations. The movements were smooth and fluid. Even if inhumanly fast, each thrust was like that of a skilled lover. Like Bill was when I was in the stocks. How?

Sue was taken to the edge of climax but didn't want to come just yet. She just wanted to stay in this state of bliss for a few more minutes first, but she could not. Her endurance was no longer up to the challenge. Her breathing was out of control, and she was starting to hyperventilate. The vigorous fucking was irresistible. No woman would be able to lie still and take it. She struggled and reacted. Nose breathing alone was simply not enough anymore, and she could feel herself starting to get faint.

Maya was there in an instant undoing the straps on the gag. She ran right past the yellow safety line into range of the robot arm without a second thought. Sue would have screamed for her to stop if not for the gag. Fortunately, the robot was too busy fucking Sue to swing the arm anywhere else. When the ball came out, Sue immediately started to feel some relief. Within a minute, she was back in control and only out of breath from her own exertions. The robot never slowed down during the whole process and Sue's nerve endings were quick to remind her.

The thrusting started to move higher and more forward almost as if trying to lift her from inside her vagina. Abruptly, it hit a certain spot and the sensation was off the charts. Her G-spot! To her surprise, she actually had one. Sue had never been able to find it and had questioned the truth of the concept. Apparently, she hadn't been forceful enough. The orgasm was strong and forceful, so forceful, in fact, that her tired muscles ached deliciously as they spasmed for what seemed like forever.




The Curator Ch. 18



Sue shook her head reflectively trying to clear the images from her mind. During the last throes of her most recent climax, as the circuits popped and the lights went out, she experienced a brief episode of being elsewhere, as if she was driving a car, looking out through the windshield on a dark, snowy night. When the car started to slide towards a snowbank, everything suddenly went blank as the windshield was buried in snow.

The images were vivid, but vision wasn't the only sense affected. Faintly, she heard and felt the impact of the crash. The air was cold with the odor of spilled coffee and pine tree air freshener. If it was some kind of dream, it was exceptionally realistic, yet it was over so quickly that she still wondered whether she had imagined the whole thing. Sue wasn't playing that game, though. Her Nuymean journey, thus far, had taught her one lesson she would never forget: nothing can be ignored, no matter how unrelated or insignificant it might seem. She would not allow herself to be careless with minute detail.

Despite such convictions, Sue didn't have the presence of mind to consider the vision-if it could be called that. When the robot failed, the final upward thrust of its arm rammed her hard in the crotch. At first, she thought she was going into shock from the pain. Never having been hit there so hard, she would not have guessed how much it hurt. She felt faint, then her body got cold and clammy, but, after a few agonizing minutes, the shock transformed into a queasy, sickening feeling in her belly, and she realized she was going to live after all.

Fortunately, the pincers on the end of the robot arm gripped the phallus from the side so their width had helped diffuse the impact. More importantly, they had prevented the phallus from spearing her up the vagina. Even though the damage inflicted was not significant compared to the potential impalement that could have occurred, the pain was still horrible; the arm was stuck in an upthrust position which rammed the oversized Nuymean phallus painfully deep, against her cervix. Strapped to the rack as she was, she could do nothing to relieve the pressure. An attempt to scream for help proved useless. Her voice was still well numbed from the effects of the Nuymean gag. All she could do was wait for Maya, wherever she was, to do something.

The boiler room came back into view as her eyes adjusted to the dark. Light from a small emergency exit sign combined with that of a red warning light on the electrical panel prevented total darkness. The air was smokey, yet no flames were evident, so whatever had burnt seemed unlikely to erupt into a larger fire. Regardless, the smell was awful, like burnt plastic, rubber and motor oil.

With all of the machines off, the tinkling of the little bells dangling from the metal clips pinching her nipples seemed to echo through the room like a clarion call, "Jingle, jingle! Helpless, nearly-naked woman over here! Jingle, jingle! Watch her squirm! Jingle, jingle! Strapped tight and spread wide for your pleasure!" Strange how something so simple could be so humiliating. Thankfully, the bells had no audience.

Eventually, Maya appeared at her side as if out of nowhere, coughing from the smoke, but made no attempt to free her. Instead, she pressed the foot pedal at the base of the rack to lever it up onto the wheels. The difference in height was just enough that Sue felt relief from her impalement yet was still well penetrated. Leaving her in place, Maya returned to the console, then after a short time investigating, went to the electrical panel. Is she trying to lower the arm? A few circuit breaker clicks later and the lights came back on while a couple lights on the Eager Beaver robot's console started to blink red. Some parts of the robot were definitely damaged; a trail of smoke was still rising from one of the metal cabinets as well as from a motor.

Sue was beginning to think that Maya had no intention of releasing her. Instead, she appeared to be trying to restart the robot. With Maya completely silent, her face showing the same distant, zombie-like expression, Sue could not deny the conclusion that Maya was being controlled or at least influenced somehow. No other explanation seemed possible-at least none that Sue was willing to accept. Not for the first time, but in a way more chilling than before, Sue was afraid of what was going on around her. She was also starting to believe more and more that recent events were being orchestrated.

With the pressure relieved, Sue was feeling much better, except that now she was having a hard time not fixating on the pain of the nipple clips. Before, she had almost forgotten about them. After all, the pain they caused was minor compared to the robot's previous outputs, both pleasurable and painful. Now, however, it was hard to put the clips out of her mind-which did seem to be the intention of them to begin with. Fucking jingling.

Maybe she could get through to Maya. She tested her voice and could make a few sounds, but still could not speak meaningfully. Her attempts, however, immediately triggered a panicked look from Maya who hurriedly grabbed the Nuymean gag. Sue frantically shook her head to signal "no fucking way" and to resist Maya's efforts to put it back on when, unexpectedly, Maya harshly tugged a bell. The nasty little clip twisted on her swollen nipple but held firm. As Sue reflexively cried out in pain, Maya shoved the gag ball into place and quickly did up the buckles, leaving Sue to chomp at the gag like an angry racehorse resenting its bridle. She was not only mad at Maya, and frustrated by the gag, but she was also mad at her disobedient body with its mindless reactions: uninvited lust was rising from deep down within her.

Maya had no luck with the robot so picked up an extension cord from the console rack and went behind Sue. Soon, she circled around in sight again with Sue's vibrator in hand. Seriously? That was the last thing Sue wanted right now. She was more than ready to be done, despite her body's growing urges. She could have been seriously injured, maybe even killed. She was tired and in pain, but her renewed head shakes and attempts at hand signals went ignored. Maya simply held up six blurry fingers, then touched the vibrator lightly above Sue's overworked clit-at least the indirect stimulation was gentle, if still cruel.

Realization dawned on Sue-six! She hadn't been counting, but despite everything, Maya was dutifully completing the training session in Nuymean custom. Maya had only removed the gag earlier because she was having trouble breathing, a safety measure, not an act of kindness. Sue now knew she would not be released until she had her full nine orgasms. She would have to cum her way to freedom.

Even under the circumstances, Sue marveled at how Maya moved so gracefully in her super tight jeans as she lifted a leg to straddle the robot arm then sat on it facing Sue. The heavy steel arm barely moved in reaction until Maya proceeded to rock up and down on it using her full body weight, see-saw fashion, boobs bouncing. Each time she pressed down against the strong tension, the arm moved a tiny bit then abruptly snapped back up in compensation-with a corresponding thrust of the phallus inside Sue. The hardest upthrusts brought a ring of the bells. The whole thing felt like a game, and her life did seem like a circus lately. "Step right up! Test your strength! Swing the hammer, hit the bell and win a prize!" Or maybe I could be in the knife throwing act. I'm already strapped helpless and scantily clad to distract the audience. The little bells would jingle when each shining blade just misses and thunks heavily in the target. The last one, right between the legs...

Sue refocused to find Maya's cold eyes staring back with the steady, blank focus of a camera lens. She tried not to think about it. The real Maya had to be in there somewhere. Despite the bruises and the lingering effects of the robot ramming her, Sue's body was succumbing to Maya's improvised technique. The hyper-sexual responsiveness affecting her had not lessened in the slightest, even if her enthusiasm had. Her clit had been spared from damage, and it was impatient for its needs to be met, as was the rest of her body. Contrary to the disconnected zombie look, Maya had an uncanny ability to read Sue's body instantly. She noticed even the most subtle reaction as she got more aggressive with the vibrator. 

Sue tried to evade the over-stimulation but was restricted to mere millimeters of movement by the tight strapping and rigid corset. Regardless, each of those millimeters mattered as her pussy played cat and mouse with the vibrator. Maya was toying with her, circling the area of her clit with the vibrator head like a cat circles its injured prey before closing in for the final kill. Maya had turned up the speed, so anything close to touching her clit directly was painful in intensity. Sue was waiting for the inevitable when something changed, and Maya backed off without warning.

It took her a moment to realize that the robot arm was moving slightly without Maya's help. Glancing at the control panel, one solitary green light was now on even though there was no accompanying machine sounds. The lusterite inside her was stirring as well. It felt...rubbery. I know I'm not imagining it. I can't be imagining it.

Maya tossed the vibrator aside and began to focus on her own pleasure. She spread her legs wider as she leaned forward slightly so that her pussy was riding in contact with the end of the robot arm. Even through her jeans, the movement of the arm must have been doing the job as her see-sawing turned into a self-centered grind. Her breathing was faster, and her zombie expression had softened. Abruptly, Maya grabbed Sue at the hips as if to tackle her, but the grab was just for stability. The main assault was directed at Sue's left nipple.

Maya's mouth came to life. There was no gentleness in her now as she bit, sucked and licked hungrily around the clipped nip and tiny bell. She even took the whole bell into her mouth a few times. The sensations of pain and pleasure coursed through Sue's body like a wildfire burning its way steadily downwards towards her highly volatile pussy, now aching to combust.

Sore, Sue wished Maya would switch to the other nipple. A second later she did. Sue thought about what it might be like for Maya to bite a little harder, and she did-only to release a second later when Sue decided that it hurt too much. The scientist within Sue noticed the pattern, woke up, and went to work gathering evidence. She experimented by giving several other mental directions in order to eliminate the possibility of coincidence. She thought about Maya kissing her cleavage on the yellow and black laser targeting marker, then licking and blowing on her nipples...flicking a bell with her tongue...teasing the other nipple with her index finger...kissing the black and yellow marker over her slit...kissing--yes, why stop there? Then, a minute or so later, the big one, she thought about Maya stopping to release her...no response. Apparently, there was a limit. Nevertheless, Maya's responses had been telepathic. Bound and completely unable to speak, there was no way for Sue to communicate by any other means.

Logically, the results of her experiments were undeniable, though scientifically, they were unprovable. Thinking of the implications, Sue once again felt a chill run up her spine. Could the mind really be capable of telepathy? Is that really what happened? Current scientific knowledge had no proven precedent, but most ancient people believed in such possibilities; nevertheless, she wasn't ready to believe some occult or supernatural capacity had been tapped. In ancient times, they would have attributed it to the work of the gods, but Sue just couldn't believe in miracles-despite the lack of empirical evidence. There had to be something she was missing. If she could just concentrate, she might be able to piece everything together, but its hard to do scientific analysis when you are close to the point of no return on your seventh climax in so many hours.

Her clit was receiving little direct stimulation even though the phallus within her was throbbing forcefully. It felt like a man was pumping her full of cum-at least how she imagined it might feel. The throbbing, accentuated by the regular thrusts of the robot arm, seemed to radiate through her body. The throbbing continued to grow and grow as her climax originated from deeper within, a full vaginal orgasm. As her pussy exploded with pleasure, her body twitched uncontrollably against her bonds, as if trying to dissipate the energy. However, the confining tightness of the straps and corset reflected any outwardly directed energy back towards her vagina like ripples of water bouncing off the sides of a swimming pool. The ripples rolled back and forth increasing in amplitude and growing in strength. Sue would have cried out in ecstasy and strain, if able. Instead, the nipple bells rang out the proclamation and announced her climax. Thirty-six jingles later, just as she thought she could take no more, the spasms started to ebb, ever so slowly, until the bells fell silent again.

Sue's head spun, and she felt faint as the last spasms faded. A dreamlike quality pervaded everything. Suddenly, she was kissing someone-a man based on the facial stubble and smell of cheap aftershave. She could feel his rough, calloused hand slide up under her skirt to grab the left cheek of her ass. He squeezed and fondled it possessively while his other arm held her close at the hips, drawing her in so that her breasts pressed against his chest. His movements to lift her skirt higher caused her to struggle for balance in her high heels, but he kept her from falling with the strength of his embrace. Sue heard something that sounded like words, then she pushed him away with her hands. He reluctantly released her as if to see what she was going to do next. When Sue looked into the man's face, she wanted to vomit. It was her skeevy, voyeuristic landlord.

What the hell? The vision faded, and she found herself back in the boiler room shaking her head, trying to clear the images, while Maya, oblivious to what happened, was still going to town with her tongue. The vision seemed so real for a minute there. Her ass even felt freshly groped. Stunned, she searched for an explanation. The telepathic link with Maya could be small potatoes. There could be something much more significant going on with her mind. Regardless, the whole thing was disturbing. So much so, that she wanted to pretend it never happened for the moment; it was just too much to think about. Thankfully, the clarity was fading quickly, like a dream after awakening-as if it never happened-which it didn't. Did it? 

Maya had been playing with her the whole time. She started to toy with one of the nipple bells, flicking it to make it jingle then tugging at it, while she teased the other clipped nipple with her tongue and teeth. The pain was harsh enough that Sue caught her breath. At the same time, the constant movement of the phallus was starting to hurt. Her vagina was starting to get dry, and her muscles were sore from straining against the thick penetration.

Looking miffed, Maya stopped her sexual exertions and got up from the robot arm. Even in the dim light, Sue could see that the crotch of Maya's jeans was soaked through, and her legs were wobbly as she went to the small shelf beside the robot console. She seemed to have been close to orgasm herself yet still had the same cold-eyed robot look. What is she really feeling? She dutifully returned with Sue's big bottle of lube, and firmly spread Sue's labia with her fingers (ow, ow, ow), inserted the squeeze pump spout as far as it would go (more ow, ow, ow), then administered several strategically placed squirts up alongside the phallus (shit! cold, cold, cold). Sue had no doubt at all about Maya's ability to read her mind now, but, evidently, that mind reading did not include Sue's desire to stop.

Sue couldn't help feeling like she had been serviced like a machine. Maya, her zombie mechanic, left her feeling much better "under the hood" after the seven orgasm re-lube using the pump bottle grease gun. Here I am racked up at the service station, dip stick inserted. High beams on. Motor running. Working parts repacked with grease. Haaahhaa! Sue knew she was getting silly, perhaps delirious, but it helped her cope. Before working at the museum, she could barely imagine three orgasms in the same day. That felt like years ago. Nine orgasms was still like running a marathon in terms of physical endurance, but such levels of sex did not seem completely absurd and terrifying to her like they once did. Was the responsiveness of her body a new level of conditioning or a temporary holdover from the alignment business? Both possibilities were cause for concern.

She was hungry, thirsty and very tired as Maya herded her towards the finishline of her sex marathon, but the thirst was the worst. Maybe that should be the next experiment? She concentrated on how much she wanted a drink. After a couple minutes, Maya stopped her attempts at personal satisfaction a second time, and went back to the console for the sports drink. Despite the zombie poker face, Sue thought Maya seemed angry as she worked the straw around the gag. Amateur. Try some real pleasure and denial sometime. Sue couldn't help but to be amused. Though now warm, the sports drink was still incredibly refreshing. She kept thinking, "all of it, all of it." Maya did indeed keep going until Sue drank the rest of the bottle. It could have been coincidence though. Experiment inconclusive.

As Maya renewed her attempts at dual gratification, Sue's mind kept working. If Maya's tattoos indicated she was marked as a slave, then who was she a slave to? Her first thought was that she would be a slave to the Nuymean gods. That would be the expected context with most ancient cultures. The Nuymeans were definitely unconventional, though, so it could mean something else. Maya had responded to her wishes, but not all of them. Wouldn't a slave obey regardless? Maybe her interpretation of the glyph was off. She needed a closer look.

Sue wasn't sure how Maya's own sexual satisfaction had slipped into the training rite, especially if she was controlled by something...or someone. Perhaps I'm supposed to enjoy Maya's behavior? Or...maybe it's a test? Maya adjusted her position briefly. Oh, oh, oh, do that again. Maya obeyed. She shimmied back up the robot arm close to Sue, tightened her legs around the metal supporting her, somehow keeping her balance, and wedged the vibrator between them both-right on target. As Maya ground against the vibrator for them both, Sue grew more and more frustrated that she was not able respond in kind. To make matters worse, Maya never seemed to stay where it felt best for more than few seconds. She must be doing it deliberately.

Sue tried to telepathically instruct Maya to the precise place she wanted the vibrator, but it wasn't really working. There was too much of a delay, and it was too hard to formulate the directions. Her attempts just seemed to confuse Maya. If only she could speak and tell her to...oh! It was one of those eureka moments. Now she knew the real reason for silence. It wasn't about ritual, sanctity and reverence. It was about power and control-more than just the typical implications of domination and submission with gags. Much more. Perhaps the actual power to command someone was being suppressed. Who knows what commands I could give Maya if I could speak?