3 comments/ 991 views/ 2 favorites The Story of Jasmine By: IAmControl As she lay there, naked, stomach down, her hands and feet tied to the corners of the table, her thoughts kept returning to her lifelong inability to orgasm being due to some sneaky pre-birth pills and a bit of surgery when she popped out. Her father's having her career set up for her to jump straight into like a warm tower out the dryer, and her mother's disapproval of her wanting to pursue acting. It had all been planned, all of it. Her whole life meant only what information she had learned while she was in Syria, tracking and eventually fucking that handsome young man and planting bugs on men's coat tails. But if that information was all she was worth, she would be damned if she was going to just let it out that easily. 'Come on, torture me how you will. I've been trained as a top of the world spy all my life as you well know. I can resist you forever.' She thought. 'What have you got for me? Cold water drips? Mind control? Hypnosis? Physical pain?' In her mind she imagined herself yawning at them. 'Yes, boring. Move along please, you have nothing that interests me.' In her mind her once commanders, now captors, shuffled gloomily away and were replaced by- -By Sehan, the young prince in line she had been tasked with tracking in Syria. His handsome features and olive brown skin shone and he smiled at her, happy to see her again. The door clanged open and a woman walked in holding a tray. Sehan disappeared and the smile on her face did too, as she realized her torture was about to begin. 'Hello Jasmine. How are we? Comfortable enough, I trust?' 'Don't give me the small talk shit, Leila, I know you're just fucking with my head and as you well know, that doesn't work on me.' Not like it does on you, she added as an afterthought, since I'm not the one with a small computer in my skull controlling and using and deceiving me. 'If the task was small talk, I assure you, I'd be doing much more of it, Seven-Two-Six.' She had used her code number. Jasmine hated it; it made her feel unequal, inhuman, like an object and not a person. Leila must have known that. Just as she was thinking this, Leila came round to the front and bent over so she could look into Jasmine's eyes. Jasmine, half due to her still drowsy state from the drugs and half because she was strapped face down on the metal table, could barely see her - but when Leila bent lower to shine a light into her eyes, she could see Leila's own were blank and dilated. She's being controlled right now, Jasmine thought sadly. She probably doesn't even know what she's doing. Or that she's doing it to her only friend. What she could get a good view of, however, was Leila's cleavage, a very exposed gap between two large and round breasts. Her corset top couldn't have been tighter, and those boobs had to be almost bursting out the top, Jasmine thought. But again, Leila would have been "suggested" to put it on by the wireless chip in her head, and wearing it today would have made as much sense as taking an umbrella on a rainy day. Leila finished examining Jasmine's eyes and ears and moved back round to her side. Jasmine lost view of her and the last thing she saw was a tight, wiggly ass as she left. Jasmine ignored her mind telling her how sexy Leila had become in the six years Jasmine had been overseas and looked around instead. There was nothing of interest around but stark metal walls, but she could just make out high above her, a long window with people milling behind it. White lab-coat people. Shit, she thought. I'm deep somewhere. Must be underground or I'd be getting a signal on my implant, but not a tingle. This one's going to be hard to escape. 'Thinking of escape, Jasmine? Don't. You can't leave here until we have your data.' Leila said blandly. For a chilling second, Jasmine wondered if they'd already implanted a chip into her own head too. But she was sure they hadn't. Her overactive damage sense was calm as anything. But it was a little tingly around her butt, which, she figured, had to be where Leila and her instruments were. Jasmine had been given several gifts in her early childhood to help her spy work. These included a tiny electrical pill in her left wrist that allowed her to detect Wi-Fi and radio signals by tingling, an enhanced sixth sense and physical sense, meaning she could detect and pinpoint damage to herself, sense where someone was or how close something was by the tingling of her skin. She had also been given an auto-shutdown; or more accurately, control over her sleep ability. Apparently though they'd managed to nullify her sleeping ability or she'd have been out like a light by now. Right then a tingle in her groin drew her attention to the physical world once more, and almost instantly, a cool, soft hand, slick with some sort of oil, contacted her skin. It touched her crotch lightly, neither actually on her vagina or her butt crack but right in between. It felt around a little, like it was taking in the view down there. Then it slid smoothly up a little and went between her butt cheeks. As the oily fingers ran over her tender butthole and smeared the oil, which was making her skin tingle and jump in a way she hadn't felt before, she lifted her head and strained to see. She saw Leila, her hands dripping with a golden sparkly oil, lovingly lathering it on her butt - one hand periodically sliding fresh oil between her cheeks, the other rolling it onto her round ass. 'So what's the torture method? Not planning on a deadly backrub, are we? Or perhaps an acidic oil bath? What new form of suitably violent and disgusting torture can we think of, hmm?' She looked up, up at the window, up at the microphone dangling above her head. She was sure they were the real torturers, the real ringmasters, and that Leila was only a puppet. Just as Jasmine had been. 'Nothing painful at all, actually. But the one thing you have no defense against.' Leila said matter-of-factly. 'And what, pray tell, is that?' Jasmine said, sarcastically, as Leila's smooth soft hands spread the golden oil over her inner thighs and legs. A drop of it running down her crotch met her vagina and seemed to instantly disperse inside, spreading itself into her like water into a dry sponge. For a second, Jasmine was taken aback by its sheer physical power, the way it excited every nerve in her lady hole. Apparently so was Leila, for the moment it entered Jasmine, her eyes dilated some more and her head tweaked slightly. She could feel what it felt, and it felt good to be in there. But Jasmine did not see this, as the door opened again and another girl walked in. Jasmine craned to see her, and saw that she too wore a tight sexy corset, but that hers was purple instead of Leila's red. Jasmine knew her, and knew why the color choice was so ironic; this was Violet, the girl they had used specifically to seduce Sir Veni la Romba while their special armed task force secured his room, broke in and assassinated him mid-fuck. She never remembered it. She had also been implanted with a chip, but hers was the generation after Leila's. It was clear to Jasmine that Violet was not open for bargaining. Her slutty walk, blank eyes and total porn star makeup and hair do said that much. But Leila... Well, she might just have a chance. As Violet entered, Leila spoke again. 'You have never experienced it in your life, so you have never been given the chance to defend yourself against it. It was useful to us to make you a better agent. But today we shall use it against you.' Jasmine said nothing, and Violet's now oily hands joined Leila's on her body. 'Orgasm is one of the most powerful things a human being can experience, Jasmine. And you are about to experience your very first one.' Violet finished for Leila, whispering it in Jasmine's ear, her oily hands rubbing the tingly warm oil into Jasmine's back. The table under her legs split and widened, so that her ankles were pulled apart and her crotch was exposed fully. Her entire lower body was warm and tingly, it felt incredible, like being in the perfect temperature bath with nice bath bubbles all around. Everywhere the oil went, she went warm and fuzzy. It was intoxicating to Jasmine, but she snapped herself out of it over and over again. She began to form a sentence in her mind, a sentence saying how she was biologically incapable of orgasm, that these very people had done that to her, and that girls didn't even turn her on. But the warm oil was clouding her head and she wanted badly to sink into the warm tingling. And Violet's hands were at her neck now, and Leila's were on the small of her back, and Jasmine really didn't feel like arguing with the pleasure their hands brought in case they stopped. She let out a small contented gasp, biting her lip slightly and letting her eyes shut, taking it in. And then Leila's finger slipped into Jasmine's tender, tingling vagina. The sensation of that alone sent shivers rattling all through her body and she smiled in delight, her body overdosing on the brilliant sensations her senses were sending her. Her vagina clamped around the finger and she squeezed her butt involuntarily. It tingled at once, all over its circumference, and she giggled at it in joy. All arguments and rejections left her mind and she settled down into the golden sparkly oil that sucked her consciousness evermore downwards, downwards into the wonderful warm golden oblivion her body was already in. She never even registered being untied and flipped over onto her back, her body limp. All she felt was the wonderful golden ooze covering her tummy and tits now, and sunk deeper into its blissful oblivion. Her face and hair were covered too, and her entire body, from head to toe, became one beautiful warm quilt. Her world only got better when Jasmine's legs parted further still, and fingers tenderly peeled her vagina open and two slick digits wormed inside. It intensified when they began to saw gently in and out, and doubled again when another slipped into her butthole. Her breasts had the full attention of Violet's loving hands and her crotch was Leila's sole concern in life. Jasmine's shiny slick body squirmed in delight at the utter pleasure flowing unstoppably from her groin and the smile of sheer joy on her face stayed. Jasmine never even knew her mouth had been working the whole time, ever since a soft, silky voice had told her to. Working, speaking six years' worth of unhindered, personalised, detailed memories into the microphone dangling only a few feet above. It went on and on without a single pause, only the occasional sigh of utter pleasure. The girls continued tenderly pleasuring Jasmine, never once even thinking an unwanted thought. Their lives were the part of Jasmine's body they had been tasked to, and their own pussies dripped as their mind was fed a reward wirelessly. To them, they were living out their personal fantasies in their heads, their vaginas full and their beds soaked. And so they rubbed on. When Jasmine had finally finished her recount, the two girls simultaneously stripped, their breasts springing from their tops and their panties peeling wetly from their crotches. They then slapped a good helping of the golden oil onto their own pussies, rubbing it well in. Then, they turned back to Jasmine, still obliviously grinning away on the table, her hips raising and lowering slightly as her groin still felt the fingers inside it. Leila's hand slid back into her vagina and Violet's back to Jasmine's bust, and they rubbed, hard, bringing Jasmine closer, closer, right to the very edge of an orgasm... And, with a loud moan, her back arching and her entire body tensing as tightly as it possibly could, she came. The orgasm blasted through her like dynamite in a mine, squirting creamy cum from her hole and clenching the muscles in her groin tight around Leila's fingers. Leila and Violet, for their part, were one with her orgasm, the responsive oil linking their bodies and their minds. As Jasmine had her first and most powerful orgasm, an orgasm set to make any porn star ashamed, so did they. The three of them splattered juicy wetness under their crotches, and when they were done, they collapsed to the floor, grinning like Jasmine. Jasmine, for her part, was asleep, knocked out by more sensory input than her body was capable of. She dreamt she had her first orgasm, two hot naked women pleasuring her on her bed in her rich apartment, covering her in smooth oil and sliding their fingers into her. Her dream was a vivid one, and it lasted long after she had been carried back to her room come cell, a towel had been draped over her, and the room had been cleaned, bugged and locked securely. She dreamt on, the grin never once leaving her face. Jasmine's inability to orgasm was not due to her being a virgin; she had lost her virginity at the age of 18, to a boy she had seduced in class. The memory was a fond one to her; she had spent the day sending him hot signals across the class, fingering her pencil like it was his cock, sliding her panties off through her skirt and pressing the rubber tipped end into herself while he watched from across the room. The boys beside him saw too, but she didn't care. She wanted one of them, and whichever one manned up first would do. The loud and rude one to the left, clearly confident enough; her main focus, the shy but cute guy in the middle - he had a perfect view up her skirt - or the sleazy greasy one to the right. No, Jasmine wouldn't prefer any of them. They all looked like they had sizable packages. It had been Sam, the boy directly across, who'd made the move. He came up to her after class, and, scratching his head uncomfortably, he had asked her what she'd been doing back there, and whether it had been for him or not. Her response had been to pull him in and kiss him, hard, passionately, hotly, gripping his hard meat as she did. He was startled but caught on surprisingly quickly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her chest in to his. Half an hour later her head was back, eyes closed, mouth open in ecstasy as she rode him standing, one leg raised and held behind him, arms clawing at his back. He had a good, solid length and width about him, and it filled her fully. She kept going, hard, pumping herself over him. She felt him cum, it spurred her on, and he kept going as long as he could. Eventually, Jasmine slowed down, until she tenderly stepped down and slid her vagina off his meat. He was red and sore, but he'd had the best fuck he'd have for years. They kissed some more, but he left soon after, thanking her many times. Jasmine, however, just sat back on the chair, confused, not caring about her discarded skirt on the floor or her shirt hanging loosely over her breasts. She felt somehow unfulfilled, unhappy, unfinished, her vagina still tingling and the sensation of his meat in her still lingering. There was little first time pain, and no orgasm. She had watched porn, she knew what orgasms were, and she knew enough to know that he'd had one and she hadn't. Jasmine tried five more times that year, with four different boys. Sam got two helpings. Every time she tried something different, and every time her arousal would climb higher and higher and tenser and closer, and then it'd ride back down. No climax. Not for her. Not one. All the boys had theirs, shooting into her, but she never came herself. Eventually she put it down to not being satisfied enough with them. She tried toys, but still nothing. It puzzled her and confused her and was a constant rain on her parade all throughout school. It left her unsatisfied and cranky, and ruined sex for her. But she put it aside the day the Service came to take her to training camp for the National Undercover Intelligence Agency. Jasmine had never even thought about birth control, either. It never occurred to her until she read about it online, and by then it had been a year since her first fuck. Every boy had cum into her, but never had she taken a pill. This puzzled her, but she was less concerned with it than with her lack of orgasmic finality. This too, however, went on the back burner the day the Service took her away. From the age of seventeen, Jasmine went through three long years of intensive full frontal training, and she transformed from a coming of age teen to an adult who thought like an adult and acted like one. She was trained to suppress desires, to read people like a book, to control things like breathing and heart rate, to fight and sweet talk and hack and ruse. She learned how technology worked and how to exploit it without assistance. She learned how to plant bugs and use sleeper darts and how to fire a gun and other languages. She also learned how her implants worked, once they were installed. She awakened her sleeping ability and her sensitive sixth sense, which had been dormant in her for years, and she had a metal slug the size of a grain of rice inserted in her left arm. She began to evolve, to learn to use and hence thrive off the world around her. And she adopted her codename: Seven-two-six. She would live under this name for the next six years. And then, on her twenty-second birthday, she was informed she had completed her course and was going on active duty, effective immediately. She had no possessions to pack, and so was escorted quickly and quietly directly to the airport, where she flew for many long hours to somewhere unknown. She never said goodbye to her parents; being in boarding school, she hadn't seen them since she was fifteen, and she had little desire to. She disappointed them then, and she preferred not to give them any further reason to now. Jasmine awoke to soft light filtering through the barred window, and realized groggily that it was night. The moon was full and shone onto the floor beside her bed. She took a moment, ad turned over. As she did so, her body's sense of touch sprang to life. She had a towel over her naked body, which she lifted gingerly. She ran her hands down her body, which felt faintly slick, as though it had been covered in oil. For the briefest of moments, she imagined herself covered in a slick, golden liquid, with naked women with big full bosoms smearing it over her body... She shook the thought away, remnants of a dream unwanted. Sitting up dizzily she tried to collect her thoughts, but they scurried away as soon as she reached for them. Holding her head. She stood and stumbled to the sink, filling a glass and drinking deeply. She was dehydrated and tired; her body had been working hard at something it wasn't used to. She drank again and then moved slowly to the cupboard to dress. She pulled on a shirt and pants groggily, a headache coming on. She then went and rested at the window, breathing in the cool air and soft moonlight. It helped, and she began to regain some strength. She popped some headache pills and sat at the desk holding her head in her hands for a while, thinking. When her head cleared sufficiently, she began to rub her temples gently and thought. She surfed through her memories, methodically locating and identifying her last memory and working forwards from there. Images came to mind, imagined snapshots of herself strapped to a table, naked; a high up window and a microphone; hot girls slathering her in golden oil. But it was blurry and there wasn't enough to work with. Jasmine sighed and kept trying. A table, she was tied to, face down... A girl, not thinking for herself, a friend... Violet? No, she came in later. Purple corset, bigger tits. Next gen chip. Later experiment. One before. Samantha? No, she was in America. Yellow mission. No yellow corset. Red... Yes, red. Leila, that's it. Leila. Telling her... Telling her what? Torture methods. Torturing what? Information. Her memories of Syria. Her memories of Sehan. Torturing, but no pain. No damage. Something good. Too good to control. Physical distraction... Oil, some sort of mentally linked oil. Reactions. Connecting with senses. Leila and Violet being in tune with it. It soaking hungrily into her vagina. Into her whole body. The golden warm sensations of it soaking beautifully into her skin all over as Leila's soft fingers penetrated her lady hole and Violet massaged her body, arousing and intensifying and climaxing and orgasm and information flowing and- The Story of Jasmine The memory was rushing back now and it had become too much too fast. Telekinetic oil? Sensually conformative substance probably. Leila and Violet? Their minds wiped and controlled, the chosen torture methods of her true captives. No doubt also being experimented on at the same time, that would explain the mentally linked oil. Orgasm? She was biologically incapable of it, but the agency had taken it from her, and so there was no reason why it couldn't give it back. She would have to test this later. And as for that nagging feeling of people talking... It had to have been her talking. Leila and Violet couldn't have been overloaded with too much data for the chip to convert to brainwaves, and Jasmine was out of it anyway. But Jasmine could have been talking. Her subconscious would have been wide open the whole time, practically from the moment her butt crack became coated in that thick, slick, warm, beautiful oil... Jasmine took another deep breath. She'd have to concentrate solidly on building a resistance to that oil, or she'd be excessively vulnerable to it. Ok, So, the oil shut her down and they got to her subconscious. That and the fact that she was in her room meant she could safely assume she told them everything she knew, if Leila had been right when she'd said they wouldn't let her leave until I had told them everything. Damn, Jasmine thought. That means I'm no longer worth a hair clip to anyone. Jasmine felt her heart sink and her breathing quickened. She was panicking and her training wasn't working - probably because it was them who had trained her. She tried to remain calm but her heartbeat was rising and her skin prickled. I have to get out of here, she thought. She stood as calmly as she could, knowing full well that the room would be bugged. She went first to the cupboard and grabbed a hoodie and shoes, pulling the hoodie as far down as she could. She tried the door, but it was locked. Seeing no other way, she went to the window and inspected the bars. To her surprise she noticed that three of the four were rusted right through, and the fourth only needed a good well aimed kick. She stood back and readied. If they didn't know already, they would definitely know after this, but she had to get out. Jasmine jumped slightly and shot her leg outwards, and it connected squarely with the only still solid bar. The rusty grating snapped and swung up and right, the top three breaking too. Jasmine peered out and saw her route immediately. She climbed out the opening and side walked past the dangling bars, over to the second balcony. She was three stories up, in some sort of hotel like building, and her window had faced onto the beach below. That meant nearby roads but lots of unseen hiding places before it. She remembered that she had been underground before, and realised that this place must have been stories and stories high in both directions. Jasmine vowed to return and free her only friends in her life, the girls in her training camp, but for now she had to save herself. She jumped lightly onto the balcony below, which lead to a lavish room. These were the top price rooms, with exclusive views and en suites and minibars. She examined the door and found a simple lock. Opening it, she crept in. There was a large double bed here lit with candles, and an assortment of chocolates, alcohol and a few sex toys lay on the bed, waiting. Jasmine screwed her nose up at the sight - hot, but she didn't drink or had much chocolate. She did pause, however, and select one long metallic dildo with four buttons on its base. She pocketed it, for her own use later. Then she crept on. The living room was empty, but the miniskirts, bras and more restraints and toys strewn around the floor signaled some sexual activity. For a tiny moment Jasmine was jealous, and wanted to stay and join in. But she stepped over the toys and to the door. Just as she reached it, the bathroom door opened and a middle aged man came in, naked. He was humming to himself and was apparently expecting - or already entertaining - lady friends. The shower was still on, and female tones filtered out. Jasmine opened the door and slipped out before she was seen. The man heard the door shut and called out, 'Oi, whossat? Vanessa? Oi, Vanessa, tha' you? Ah, you fuckin' bitch, you skanked out. Slut! Too jealous to fuck a man shes sharin' with another whore.' He shook his head. 'Fucking slut. Oi, Tiff, stop flapping about and put that fucking body to work, slut! You weren't born so you could be clean! Get in here and start sucking, you fucking skank!' He plopped himself on the bed, spreading his legs expectantly and examining one of the toys. Jasmine, for her part, screwed up here face in disgust at his objectification of women, and had half a mind to go and knock him one. She would have, too, but her skin tingled and she sensed she had to move. Running lightly down the corridor, she popped into the elevator and the doors slid closed. 'Let her go.' 'But sir, with respect, we could use her to great ends in the coming experiment-' 'I said leave her, John. We have enough girls. There are always more coming in, always more willing families. She has done her part. Let her go.' 'We weren't able to stop her remembering, now we're not stopping her escaping. What if she comes back?' 'She won't. She can orgasm now. She'll find her way in normality.' 'With respect-' 'You say that a lot.' 'With respect, Sir, being able to stay warm on long and lonely nights isn't exactly a revolution. Sure, she's never done it before, but how long do you really think that'll keep her occupied?' 'She lost ten years of her life to our needs, John. She'll make them up. And then she'll just keep going.' 'So we just let her walk out? No chase?' 'Oh, we chase alright. Enough to keep her away for good, but not too much for her to cope with. Double sentry patrols at every door and elevator except one, link every man and woman's tracker so they follow a predesigned map. Give her a way out but let her find it. Then leave her the fuck alone. We have the Chip to concentrate on.' Jasmine sprinted lightly past two uniformed men walking down a corridor and came to the end of this level's main hallway. The lift was still several floors away so she hid in a nearby doorway. As she waited, Jasmine could make out the soft sound of muffled moaning filtering through the door, a rhythmic pounding 'Oohh, uhh.' There was nothing else it could be. Jasmine, fed up with her life already and appalled at how much fornication was going on around her, turned and swung the door open. A man and women were framed on the bed inside. They both shot to look at her straight away, and she saw the age difference and the clear similarities in their faces. She just stared dumbly for another second before slamming the door shut again. The man inside turned back to his daughter, they both shrugged, and she began her bouncing up and down again, earning more and more points with daddy with every thrust. Jasmine felt sick. Her senses were going off the rails and as though everything she'd been through in her last few hours of consciousness wasn't enough, she was being chased by the Agency's guards - no doubt to drag her back to the basement where she'd be kept naked in a cell and only dragged out to be experimented on, where waking up and not knowing your own gender or name would be normal, where no thought would be your own, and where you ate that shitty nutrient sloppy crap. Jasmine shuddered, and thankfully the elevator pinged. She ran in without looking around and pressed the door shut button over and over. When the doors had finally closed she bent over and let fly in the corner, dry retching. Her body had had too much, and she was overloaded. When she was done, she stood shakily, leaning on the rails. She still felt sick but she had control - for now. It was then that she noticed for the first time the other girl in the lift, a tall blonde dressed in a tight yellow corset and yellow suspenders. Everything she wore was yellow, Jasmine realized, matching her hair. For a moment Jasmine thought it was Samantha, the blonde slave sent to America. But it was just another prostitute getting her nightly pay. 'I know, darl, I know. I was like that when I first started out too, every cock I took down my throat made me wanna puke. But don't worry, hun, ya get used to it. Sooner ya put your concerns aside, sooner ya accept it, and then it becomes way more fun!' She giggled a little and adjusted her tits, roughly shoving one further down the top. Jasmine just looked at her half in disgust and half sickly. The elevator pinged again and she strutted out, looking for her room. Jasmine stayed in and rode the lift to the bottom floor. She felt worse; the entire goddamn building was one big fuck house at night. And I bet none of them knew what was going on below the ground, the kind of tests and experiments they performed sexually on their innocent girls while these rich bastards fucked prostitutes and drank alcohol, Jasmine thought. She put the thought aside as the elevator stopped and the doors began to open. She ran out- -straight into two grey uniformed sentries waiting to go upwards. They reacted fast, grabbing her, roughly man-handling her into the lift. They were strong and grabbed anything they could get a purchase on as she struggled to free herself. One even picked her up by her crotch, grabbing her groin fully and lifting her whole body off the floor. They dragged her in and dumped her on the floor, and the doors closed again. 'I told you to link them all a fucking predestined map plan!' 'They hadn't reached their starting point so they weren't functioning on the orders we programmed yet.' 'Which way did they go?' 'Into the lift, sir-' 'I mean which fucking direction, asshat, up or down? Were they taking her to their initiation location or down to the loading block?' 'Up. They just left the lift on floor six. Their initiation point is room 206.' 'Then order them to throw her in a room and lock it. Make sure she has a fucking exit route.' 'Sir, wouldn't it be easier if we just took her back-' 'I DON'T PAY YOU TO THINK, JONATHAN, I PAY YOU TO DISTRIBUTE MY FUCKING ORDERS!' 'Sir, yes sir.' 'Now you fucking send the command before I have YOU taken down to the loading block, stripped, implanted, and used to clean the White Room with your fucking tongue.' S-sir, yes sir.' 'Good. Now, lock her in the nearest room she can escape from and let her go. Then get down to surveillance and make sure the camera watchers aren't having a fucking orgy down there. And while you're there, send up Leila, please.' 'Yes sir. Right away, sir.' 'Oh, and John?' 'Sir?' 'Don't you ever blatantly argue with me again, or I will implant you. Got it?' 'Yes... Yes, sir.' 'Good. Let me know when Leila is on her way. And make sure she wears that extra tight corset with the holes in it.' Jasmine was shoved roughly into a dark room and the door locked behind her. Rubbing the arm she fell on, she stood and looked around. The guards had been excessively rough with her, and several spots on her body had to be bruised. But she still had the only thing she'd had all day - the long metal dildo - in her pocket. She wanted to use that later. The room was dark and quiet. It smelled clean and unused, which Jasmine was thankful for. Not every room was being used as a fuck house, then. She walked to the balcony and snapped the thin wood around the lock easily. There was a route across the next three balconies to a drain pipe that could help her. If she could get to ground level, she could get away. As Jasmine climbed, she passed three more rooms, two of them lit. It was a cool night and they all had the balcony doors open to let in the air. One contained a young, handsome man of probably about her age, reading a book. Another had a straight backed smartly dressed woman working at a laptop. She had to be a receptionist at some fancy place; the clothes were impeccably ironed and top quality, and the laptop was probably new. As Jasmine watched her type, the door opened and a man came in. She stood and greeted him, closing the laptop as she did. Jasmine caught a few words before it shut: "August fought the restraints but they had been well tightened and neither she nor her friend could escape their bonds. She was cold and scared and the machinery was doing odd things to her body..." A story of some kind, Jasmine thought. Sounds good so far. Keep it up. She moved on as the two began to undress, kissing and touching. She'd seen enough of that for today. The next room was dark but she could make out a girl sleeping gently on the bed. She was naked save for a towel, and a faint light from some patch on her arm blinked softly. The girl's legs were tied together. Jasmine didn't want to guess at why she was these, but her mind had already remembered her own room, and how she had awoken much the same way, naked with a towel. Jasmine did not have any technology on her arm or tied legs, though, and for that she was silently grateful. She got to the pipe and shimmied down without issue. She hopped lightly to the grass, spotted a fence and climbed it. The top was barbed but she only cut herself twice. She didn't care; all she wanted was to get the fuck away from this place. She half ran, half fell down the embankment on the other side and found herself on the beach. Aside from a few sole walkers far to the left, there was no one on the beach. She went right, sprinting lightly over the sand. On an impulse, she removed her shoes and walked barefoot, the feeling of the sand on her feet comforting her. She had passed the fence line of the hotel already and could see the lights of the city far ahead. She would enjoy the walk alone, but for the moment she needed a rest. She sat down between two bushes, pulled her legs up to her chest, and sobbed softly. When she was done, she just sat there, not thinking or concentrating on anything, just bathing in the moonlight. When she was done, she stood with a groan, and began the long but peaceful walk to the city, where she would find somewhere to stay. She never noticed the long, slender tube of shiny metal lying in the sand behind her, where she had been sitting. It had slipped out of her pocket unnoticed, and it now rest quite peacefully in the sand. 'What? Not even one room?' Jasmine asked, perturbed, frustrated that she'd walked for hours and tried twenty different hotels, and not one had offered her even the back cabin to sleep in. Finally, one had snottily suggested that "the Locked Inn on the edge of town might be able to accommodate a woman such as herself," which only meant it was shitty enough to give her a room without paying. Now she was here, and she needed more than anything a place safe enough to close her eyes. But this arrogant teenage kid wouldn't let her in. 'I'm sorry miss, but I can't just give you a room. You have to pay first. New company rules,' he said, pointing at the printed sign that read, "PAY FIRST. NEW CUMPANY RULES." Jasmine held back the urge to remark on the misspelling of "company" and tried again. 'Can't you even let me sleep out the back? What about the stables? If it was good enough for Jesus, I'm sure it'd suite me fine.' She said sarcastically. 'I just need some rest. I'll leave first thing and I won't even make a mess.' The boy tried to hide a giggle at that, and Jasmine rolled her eyes at his immaturity. She could see his bulging pants beneath the counter, and felt disgusted that she had had to come to this runt for a favor. But she was fatigued, and she had to sleep. Suddenly, she had an idea. 'Wait, there is one thing I could give you. I was planning on keeping it myself, but hey, maybe you can use it on your girlfriend. Or use it to get a girlfriend,' she added absently, searching her jacket pockets. She tried her pants but they were empty. Looking at him in confusion, she looked around the floor. 'I swear it was right here in my pocket...' She mumbled. 'Where did it go?' She looked under the seats, no longer thinking about the boy or the view of her ass he had. She'd lost it, she'd fucking lost the only thing she had besides her clothes. It wasn't much to a scrawny testosterone pumped teenage kid, but it might have been enough to get her a room. She swore rudely, cursing her carelessness. When she turned back, the boy was on her side of the counter. 'Look, um... Dad's out with his new girlfriend tonight, and he'll probably get back drunk... I, um, could probably get you into the room right at the end... It's small and dark, and we normally use it for storage, but it has a bed and I guess you can-' she cut him off, too grateful to care. 'Thanks. I'll take it.' He handed her the key, and showed her the way. He let her in and then shut the door behind her, and she heard the satisfying sound of it locking behind him. Then, without bothering to check it, she flopped herself down on the bed and was asleep. Jasmine woke to the door creaking softly. It was still dark, so it couldn't have been that long since she'd gotten in. The door shut and locked again, and she closed her eyes again. Probably that horny kid checking on me. But Jasmine was awake now and she had to pee, so with a sigh, she sat up. As she came upright she immediately saw the dark figure by the door, and had worked out who it was before he made a move. 'I'm guessing my stay wasn't totally free, then? You snuck in to see if you could get some, right? Don't lie, I saw how you looked at me last night. But, I do have to pay for the room, I suppose, don't I?' She said, reading his mind. 'Well come on. Come out of the shadows.' He stepped forward shyly, not sure what to do now that he'd been outsmarted. Jasmine beckoned him closer and he came up to her. Without a word, she undid his pants and dropped them. His undies followed, and she grasped the pole that sprang out. 'I prefer a shaven background,' she said matter-of-factly, 'but I can work with this.' Without stopping to think she wrapped her lips around it and sucked. He moaned and grasped her hair, and she bobbed back and forth on his meat. It was surprisingly good and she found herself getting quite wet from it. He came quickly and she took it calmly, swallowing it and not even gagging once. When he was done, she slid off him and pulled his pants back up for him, even tying the cord for him. With a pat on his now satisfied bulge, she said, 'here's how this works. Each night you let me stay here, you go one more step. If you give me what I ask for, I'll fuck you. Tell your dad I'm paying, and once I have a job I'll make up what I owe you until I can find my own place. Shave and I'll do it again tomorrow.' He nodded rapidly and she shooed him out. With a sigh Jasmine relieved herself in the shit hole bathroom, fingering out some tension from her lady parts before returning to bed. She was asleep again in minutes. She dreamt fleeting dreams of erotic oils, hot women, hotels full of sex and boys seeing her as one big sex object. She woke sweating but at least she was refreshed. She spent the first half of the next day by herself, doing her hair roughly and washing herself clean. At least this place has hot water, a shower and a toilet, Jasmine thought wryly. She cleaned up and was actually satisfied with herself, so she left in the afternoon and asked around the local shops if they had jobs. None offered her one, but many of the men she asked turned her down as a prostitute or offered her money for her services. But Jasmine was not looking to sell her body as an object; she loved sex but that was too much for her. She did not want to have to resort to sex to pay her way, as was already happening back at her hotel. The Story of Jasmine It was late when she tried the last place on her list, a fish and chip shop. She was hungry and the smell made her mouth water. A plump older woman asked what she wanted, but Jasmine tiredly informed her that she had no money and that she had been all over town trying to get a job. The woman behind the counter asked her jokingly how many of them had turned her down and how many had asked if her body was the job. Her face fell when Jasmine told her. 'This part of town be a shit hole if ever there was one,' she said, scrubbing up her pans, 'what's your name, honey?' 'Jasmine.' 'Jasmine. Wonderful name. Twenty-five an hour for a six hour shift, and I'll double whatever you make on overtime. Take a sear over there and I'll bring you something to eat.' Jasmine was taken aback at the twin offers, and began to protest about the free meal, but she was cut off. 'I wasn't offering, Lass, you're hired. Sounds to me like you've no other choice, and there are much worse jobs around here.' She looked knowingly at Jasmine, and they both knew what "worse" options meant. 'Now sit. This one's on me. You can start tomorrow. I'll work you hard but I'll pay you what you're worth.' And she smiled. Jasmine returned the smile and sat down, offering a silent thank you to whatever powers had granted her this fortune. She ate, thanked her again and made her way out. It was dark by now and the hotel was two blocks away, so she pulled up her collar and ran. The father was asleep at the desk when she got back, so she snuck past and locked her door. She was tired but actually quite happy that she'd managed to find herself a job, and her tummy was as full as it had been for a long time. She went straight to bed and slept fitfully until she heard her door creak. She knew who this would be, and she prepared herself mentally. When she sat up, she was naked, and without any forewords she pointed between her legs, spread them wide and said, 'Suck.' He knelt down awkwardly and kissed her lips a few times, but he was timid and unsure, so the put her hands on his head and pushed him in. He struggled in surprise but picked up quickly, and in five minutes he had a tonging rhythm going. Jasmine got herself worked up enough on his face and then pulled him out roughly by his hair. He stood and she shuffled forwards, flicked his pants down and took a moment to take in the sight. She actually laughed at the sight of his now too bare groin. At least he was eager to please her, she thought, although he could tone that down a bit. He'd cut himself twice, and she was genuinely thankful he hadn't tried to shave the jewels themselves. She giggled again as she began her work, and soon he shot his load into her mouth. She took her time swallowing, making a show of tasting it, licking it all around her teeth. 'Mm, not bad. Do you jerk yourself?' 'What?' 'Wank. Do you masturbate?' 'Uhm, well, yes, I do...' 'Good. Do more. One in the morning and another at lunch. Your girl will want time to savor you before you're done. Now go.' He scurried out and she finished herself by hand on the loo, moaning out as she came around her fingers. That was good, she thought. Really good. If there's one thing I'm grateful to the Agency for, it's for giving me back my orgasm. She sucked her fingers clean, grinning at her day. She was happy. She had a job, someone to experiment with her new found sex on, and she could orgasm. What more did a girl need? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Three weeks later, Jasmine had paid off her debt to the hotel and was having regular nightly fuck sessions with the boy. She had also saved several hundred dollars, which she kept under her mattress. Her work was hard but she did it happily and was well into her routines. Get up, wash, explore. Work till six, store cash, eat, relax, fuck, sleep. Repeat. It had become second nature to her. She was actually happy; she could afford food for herself, and cosmetics. She kept a box in the bathroom with washing and grooming items, perfumes, a little make up and some tins of food. She kept a notepad and pen, a cheap phone and a few books on the table she had made out of storage books and even had bought a new sheet for the bed. She was living in luxury, or at least in much better conditions than she had slept in for many years. She was happy and no longer woke up tired and depressed. And every night she had a cock to experiment on. And he was learning; he now knew about her sensitive skin and her dominant personality, and he practiced on extending his endurance. He even got a metal ring put around his shaft, tight enough to be irremovable but not cutting off circulation. Apparently, he told her when she first saw it, it helped with size and width, and made him squirt; it applied enough pressure to close the tubes just a little, forcing it out. This has been proved at least slightly true when he blew onto her face when she jerked him off, instead of his usual dribbling onto her tits. They went all the way now and she actually liked the sensation of his metal addition in her. And so it was one Sunday, her day off, that she went out in her new clothes with her new handbag and clean, shiny hair, that she went to the local sex shop. She opened the tinted out door and was greeted with a huge display of "the world's first tri-tipped pleasure device!" Curious, she picked up a box and read the back, where the diagram showed quite shamelessly how the front two "bulbs" slid into her front and stimulated her clit, and the third entered her behind. She giggled slightly as she read that it featured a "springy, molding design that allows you to simply turn it on and let your own holes guide it in", followed by yet another diagram, this time of the butt-end, turned on, stimulating it and applying pressure into it, and then it "opening with arousal", and the bulb popping in. She giggled again at the way it boasted full vibration control, and the attachable handle that allowed for "manual sliding." She was in the middle of one such giggle when the man who had come not silently at all up to her cleared his throat and offered his assistance. 'Ahem... Excuse me, Miss, can I help you with that at all?' Jasmine looked up sharply, almost dropping the toy. She fumbled for it and for words, trying to recover her composure. She managed to catch the box and stood, looking at him. It was then that she saw his tall, clean cut figure, his closely cropped hair and his muscular build. He was handsome, in fact, he was damn hot. Jasmine tried not to cum on the spot. 'Uh, um, no, I was, uh, I mean, I was coming to, I mean going to, well trying to...' She stopped herself from having a break down, and he laughed. She looked at him, and he laughed again. Jasmine sensed it was friendly, and smiled a little. 'I'm sorry, it's just that you looked so serious reading that box, and then you tried so hard to hold onto that. It was funny, and kinda cute. I'm Jack, by the way.' He offered his hand. 'Did you want to buy that? I could probably get you a discount, since I'm pretty sure even a reinforced product for the feistiest of ladies such as that would have taken a beating at that mad scramble.' She laughed a little, and shook. 'Well, I wasn't going to buy anything...' 'Here, let me show you around. We have a big range here, you know.' She smiled at his deliberate innuendo. 'Well, alright, so long as you promise me to keep using crap jokes like that.' He laughed and agreed, and he took her to the ladies' section. Jasmine's normally untrustworthy attitude had been forgotten in his infectiously chirpy attitude. 'And that is corner has all our anal range.' He said with a flourish. Jasmine felt her own rear tingle as she looked at all the many different things she could put there, and some she saw she even liked. With an apology about needing to attend to the counter, he left her to browse, and Jasmine shyly picked one long implement off the shelf. She had a modest basket full now, and she added a few more to it. She was shy even though no one was watching her - it was her attitude. All her life she'd been trained to be untrustworthy, and not to trust anyone. But there was something about this guy she warmed to. Besides, going through the checkout would be an ordeal. Even though he'd seen her get most of the items, she was still shy to show him all her kinky thoughts laid out so blatantly like that. But he was unfazed by the items, happily putting them into an unmarked bag for her. 'That comes to a total of $129.50, and the discounted items are on the receipt.' 'How many did you get cheap?' She asked, not expecting him to do her favors. 'I got about $60 off for you. After all, we do want you to cum back, you know.' He said with a wink. Jasmine giggled and took her bag and change. 'I think I might just be back sometime.' 'Come right on back anytime you like, Miss. I'll be waiting for you.' He said with a smile. 'Call me Jasmine, please,' she said, 'if you want to see me again, that is.' He smiled. 'How about dinner, Jasmine? La ćherè, at seven?' She thought about it, making a play of musing it over while she took in the offer with schoolgirl excitement inside. 'You're on.' 'Great! I'll see you then. Don't be late, or I'll have to punish you!' He warned, and she giggled. 'You might be doing that anyway.' And she left, a curious feeling deep inside her chest and a little wet patch on her panties. After suitably hiding her new toys behind some boxes in her room, she got herself ready, putting on what small amount of makeup she liked. She did her hair and put on a clean set of clothes. To any normal person, Jasmine would come across as a tomboy, at least as far as her total lack of feminine concern for her appearance. She put on clean clothes when the ones she had on were dirty and she did her hair if she was not happy with it currently. Otherwise, she was not fussed. She took things as they came, mostly a habit from her spy career and partially due to her personality. So she did herself up a little and then relaxed, reading her new book, Fifty Shades of Grey. She was just up to Grey's first true moment showing himself, and while the story was kind of hot, it bored her a little. She only found herself getting excited in the sexual bits. But she was determined to finish it before she bought a new one, and Grey was pretty hot. Before she knew it, it was 5:30 and she had dozed off in the middle of Grey's tie-up session, a little patch down below still damp. She woke with a jerk and her skin tingled already. She checked her watch, swore, and checked herself in the mirror. She fixed her messy hair grabbed her bag and ran out. Then she ran back in when she realized she had no shoes on. She took a moment to make sure she had all the appropriate clothing on, and a part of her hoped it wouldn't be on the whole night she was with Jack. Then she left, locking the door behind her. It was 5:58 when she arrived, and she was panting. She had run the last block after deciding being on time was more important than being composed. Now she was regretting that choice; she could swear there were sweat marks on her shirt, and it was a fresh shirt, too. It was then, as she walked into the posh restaurant, that she felt very self-conscious. Every other woman in the room had long, sparkling dresses on, strapless bras, high heels longer than their dates' dicks, and immaculate hair. Here was she, a pair of black pants, the shoes she didn't wear to work, a striped top and hair loose around her shoulders. She must have stood out like a sore thumb. A waiter with hair made from plastic, or at least covered in it, asked with the tiniest hint of a very fake accent whether she had a reservation. For a moment she looked at him, and then her head kicked back in and she called upon experience from her time in Syria. 'Ah, yes, I'm expecting to meet a... Friend, here. His name's Jack?' She said politely. 'Indeed, Madame. Jack who?' 'Uh... Jack...' 'Yes, Madame?' Jasmine didn't know his second name, and she wasn't sure there was a dignified way of getting out of this situation. "Sorry, don't know his second name yet, only met today in a sex toy shop" wasn't a fitting response in this place. Luckily for her, Jack was waiting by the steps, and saw her. 'Hey! Jasmine! Over here! The table's this way!' He called, coming to meet her. It reassured her that he also seemed as standing-out as she did and was completely unconcerned. He smiled graciously at the waiter and took Jasmine's hand. Jasmine smiled to herself at his getup; he wore a collared shirt and light brown pants with, she couldn't really believe it, thongs on. His hair had been slicked but was much more real than the Waiter's overdone wisps. She felt safe knowing he wore what he felt like too, and not what fitted in. He sat her in her chair and then slid in across from her, a little to the right. 'If you're wondering why I'm not doing the gentlemanly thing and sitting directly across from you, Madame, take a look to your left.' He said, and she did so. Her mouth opened as she saw the view of the city below. 'Not many people know about this place. Down there are hundreds of much more posh places that all the politicians and celebrities and criminals go to, but none of them have views like this. Everyone just thinks it's another shit hole, because it's right next to our humble suburb, but it actually resides on the edge of Forest Grove, a much more up-beat place. I often come here,' he said, gazing outwards as he spoke, 'and just sit here in the corner by myself, watching life go on below.' He turned from his revelry. 'But anyway, how are you? You look absolutely wonderful, by the way.' Jasmine blushed, and mumbled, 'oh I am not. I look terrible.' 'I'll tell you who looks terrible. All the other men and women in here, those that spend all fucking day primping themselves up to look good no one but themselves. Me? I don't give a crap what others think about me. Well, everyone except you. And hey, to me, you look wonderful.' Jasmine blushed again, and to her embarrassment, felt her pussy tingle ever so slightly. She should have relieved herself before she left. 'I hope you don't mind, but I ordered something already. I would have waited for you but it takes an hour in here to arrive, and I wanted to finish up here as quickly as possible.' Jasmine looked up at that, and he just looked back, meeting her gaze. After a pause, he said, 'Look... Jasmine... When I saw you today, something inside me sparked. The way you stood there, just being you, not trying to please anyone or mask anything, was so very cute... And then the way you held your cool even though I shamelessly showed you all the, uh, naughty things I sell every day, I felt myself, well... I felt proud of you.' Jasmine, who had been looking shyly at the table, looked up, and he reached forward and held her hand. 'Jasmine, look, I know we only met today, and this has to be one of the fastest relationships in history, but, well, I think I might love you.' Jasmine said nothing for a long moment, trying to process it all. Her skin tingled electrically and her pussy dampened a little more. She wanted him already. And her head spun back to that day when her heart skipped when she saw him. The feeling in her chest as she left. And his confident yet shy attitude here, now, as he said something about how cliche "love at first sight" was. Jasmine met his gaze, put her hand on his, and said the only thing she could think to say as he looked longingly bad at her like a puppy. 'Fuck me, Jack.' The rest of the night went by in a blur. Jack had smiled with the words "I will, but first let's eat!" and then they had eaten, sharing one big plate instead of two. They went unnoticed in the corner, and an hour later they left in a taxi Jack paid for. Jack's arm tentatively went round her shoulders and she put her hand on it to let it know she liked it there. They shared their first kiss in the back of that taxi, and the driver gave them the trip free after he noticed that Jasmine's fly was open. They kissed more, all the way to the doorstep, by which time it was getting hot and Jack's hands were already well acquainted with her butt. He opened the door and they collapsed on the couch, her shirt falling off somewhere between the door and the couch. His came off too, and she straddled him, unbuttoning his pants. She pulled them off him and he tore hers right down the middle. She stood and let them fall, discarded, pulling the panties off with them. He smiled at the wet patch on them already and she knelt down and tore his pants off. She didn't hold back. She grasped him and kissed, big, wet kiss that took half his tip in her mouth already. His head went back and the wet sucking kiss widened into a hole and it slid in. She went deep, gagging on him, but she didn't stop until her nose met his navel. He moaned and she went back up, gently scraping her teeth on his length. He liked that and she kept on, going faster and faster, tonguing his tip. When he told her to stop, between panting breaths, she stopped, her mouth slick with pre-cum. He stood and directed her to sit, legs up, on the couch, and then he penetrated her with her legs held high. She fondled her breasts to his pounding and found herself building a powerful orgasm. Her mind was fuzzy and warm, and her body felt as though it was coated in something thick and oozy. There were hands that weren't his and weren't hers on her, massaging her tenderly. Woman's hands. But the one solid thing was the thick bone pounding her, and she centered in on that, and it filled her mind and she tensed tight around him and they came together, her vagina filling and overflowing. By the time he slowed down and eventually withdrew himself, he was red and throbbing and she was tender and dripping. But her whole body was warm and tingly, and faintly she made room for him to lay with her. They stayed like that for a while, as he gently fingered her lady holes idly. They rested, no words needed, and slowly Jasmine's body returned to normal. His fingers gently circling her twin holes had her still riled up though, and eventually, when she felt ready again, she gently whispered to him. 'Did you ever read Fifty Shades of Grey?' Meanwhile, back in the hotel, Lucas, Jasmine's fuck buddy, was late. His father, deeming him to have under worked today, had made him stay later than midnight to clean up. He was shitty, and he slammed the plates down angrily. Mistress would not be happy with him for being late, he thought. She had begun making him call her mistress a few days ago and he soon found himself taking to her dominant role. He began to look up to her and thought of her less as Jasmine and more as Mistress, less as a customer and more as a master. He served her however he could, and he was failing her by being late. When he finally got off, he went straight up to her room, not bothering to change. He unlocked it eagerly, already apologizing to the naked beauty for being late and asking for a suitable punishment- -there was no one there. The bed was unused. He froze, a little shocked. Where was Mistress? He searched around for a clue, checking her notepad and box of toiletries. Apart from some tampons, nothing in there interested him. He checked under the bed, ignoring her stash as he'd been told to do. He checked the boxes she used as storage, and it was here he found a hidden bag. Opening it, he gasped as his eyes feasted on the treats Mistress clearly had bought for his use (Lucas may have been in the process of being conditioned by Jasmine, but he still had the arrogance of a teenager.) He spread them out on the bed, admiring the various long tubes, plugs, pads, cups, clothes, clips, cuffs, restraints, gags, ties and books inside. He flicked through the books, which were mostly about BDSM and mind control. He tested the dildos and was surprised at their strength. He wondered at the knobbly plugs, and the pads with wires and battery packs. He was just examining a tube of extra-strong numbing and burning oil and wondering how it would feel for his cock to be both numb and on fire, when the door flew open and an angry man stood framed in the doorway, a bottle in one hand and a key in the other. The Story of Jasmine Jasmine's vagina sparked again as he nibbled and sucked at her pussy. She was tied upright to the bedhead and her eyes were blindfolded. She was gagged and her body was crisscrossed with a latticework of leather straps and clips that dug in and aroused her. It was a play on the Fifty Shades scene, and Jack was milking her for every drop she could produce from her crotch. The leather had the added bonus of a heated wire that kept her body aroused, and his tongue did the rest. She was pulsing and pumping but it refused to give her the satisfaction of orgasm. Finally she gave in and begged him. 'Oh fuck, I give in, make me cum already!' She screamed out, and with a smile he flicked a switch and slid the ribbed dildo into her. She was so pent up that it was all she needed to cum, and she thrashed as the bed was soaked beneath her crotch. 'That's twenty three minutes and forty seconds. You beat my teasing record by eleven minutes!' He said. After the couch, they had moved to the bedroom where she took him up the ass with a numbing/ice condom, and it had made her cum without touching her breasts or snatch. Then they played the teasing game, seeing how long each could hold themselves off. Despite Jack's downtime on the reload, she beat him by almost twelve minutes. 'Well, I'm fucked. How about a cuddle in bed?' He offered, chucking the toys in his drawer. Jasmine, previously expecting to go home, agreed with only a look from Jack. 'Don't think you're going home after that, Missy!' He had said, and so they had tucked down together and flicked off the light. She only had one dream that night, a rarity for her, but it was the usual. She was tied to a bench and hot women who weren't really there smothered thick golden oil all over her body and she began to lose her mind and sink into a golden oblivion and she was telling her whole life as fast as she could before her head was swallowed into a sea of golden liquid. The other girls were gone, sunk already, contented smiles on their faces. Jasmine just sped to finish spilling her life out to a microphone dangling above her before it seeped over her face and took her forever too, erasing her mind and turning her into a mindless sex slave- Jasmine had shot awake then, sweating hard, and Jack who had been listening gently held her. He said nothing and she appreciated that he knew she needed comfort physically but space mentally. He just shushed quietly in her ear, holding her close until she dosed off again. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Jasmine woke to a beautiful morning, the sun shining in through the window. She stretched gloriously, her bosom popping out from the quilt. Beside her, Jack awoke too, and gave her left tit a morning peck before jumping up. No morning after regrets for him this time. He was sure. He knew she was the one. Apparently, so did she, he thought, looking fondly at her back, and at her glorious silhouette framed in the sunshine. He was glad he had her. After sharing a rich breakfast with him, Jasmine had to get back to her hotel room before work. She apologized profusely but he didn't take a bar of it. He even offered for her to stay here with him. She was tempted too, but she turned him down with the promise of thinking about it. She grabbed her things and left, catching a cab home. When she arrived, Jasmine entered the front desk area expecting to see Lucas lounging around or his father asleep in the chair. But they were both there, and the father was in the process of shouting some sort of abusive profanity at his son. Apparently she had walked in at the wrong time, but she didn't know half of it yet. The father froze mid-swear-word and turned to look at her. An angry grin came onto his face as he saw who it was. 'You! You, you little skank! You fucking whore! You dirty little fucking shit! How dare you bring your dirty skanky whore toys into my establishment!' He yelled at her, his voice already layered with at least a few bottles of something strong. 'You get your whore ass up to that room and pack up your shit and then you GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT!' He shouted, spitting in his rage. Jasmine just took a step back, slightly terrified and very confused. At his furious pointing she went up to her room where Lucas opened the door for her with a shameful face. He didn't look at her, so she wondered if this had been his fault. Just then she came around the corner and saw her bed. Her heart fell as the final puzzle piece fell into place. Her bags had all been upended on the floor, all her belongings rifled through, but it was the things on the bed that were the cause of his rage. Her adult toys, the ones she had bought yesterday, were strewn about the bed. Some had fallen off, and one or two had clearly been the subject of his rage, lying broken on the floor. She went to them, upset not just at his infernal rage but that her belongings, everything she had worked for, all her private things, had been carelessly thrown about. Her notepad was torn and pages were missing, her clothes lie in wrinkled piles. She knelt where her small travel bag she stored her clothes in lay, upturned, and she held the one feminine thing she had ever liked in the world in her hands. It was a dress; a golden short dress, not skimpy and not too formal, with little cute yellow threading criss-crossing the collars and cuffs. It was torn down the side, unwearable now. Her heart sank as low as possible at this. She was being kicked out; her possessions, the victims of a drunken power crazy rage, lay dirty and broken, everything she had ever bought with her own hard earned money, and worst of all, she had nowhere to go. She grabbed the dress close, scrambling to pick up everything she could. His gestures were frantic now and he was spitting something unintelligible. Finally, as he screamed get out for the twentieth time, she stood and half-ran, half crawled past him. He almost made to hit her, but some pathetic spark of empathy triggered in his alcohol-ruined brain and he held his arm. She scrambled out, crying. She caught a glimpse of Lucas's face, down turned, ashamed and upset. Then she was down the hall. 'Fucking dirty whores. Skanks! Sluts! I never fucking liked those sex crazy bitches!' He mumbled under his breath. 'Fucking hate them. Never ever want to see one in my prized hotel again! Never!' He slammed the door to his room, leaving his son to tend to the counter as he usually did most nights. He would drink more and sleep the night away on the chair, or more likely, the floor, while Lucas sat at the counter and dealt with the mundane life of the stool, the radio and the empty reception room. 'I'm... I'm sorry, Mistress.' Was all he said. And he slumped down behind the counter, and closed his eyes. Jasmine ran out onto the street, which was dampening with droplets of water. A storm front had come over, and it was about to poor. She stood under a bus stop and unwrapped the pathetic bundle she had left. Her sun dress, torn, dirty, creased and now wet. A small make up bag she kept handy for emergencies. The frilly cuffs, a ribbed dildo and a bottle of oil. That was it. No money, no suitcase, no clothes save the dress and what she had on. She sat down, dejected, her entire new life's work reduced to less than the Salvos would take. She sat there for a while, just wondering what she would do now. She had nothing. nowhere to go. That was the worst place for a long while; and without any of the money she had earned, she couldn't even buy a tent. She looked almost longingly back down to the hotel front; the dingy light filtering out the dirty window. He would be sitting there, as he usually did, his father asleep, drunk. She was almost temped to go back and talk to him, but then she remembered the look on his face. He had been the reason she was here now. He must have searched her room and found her new stash of sex toys. The little shit had thought they were for him and was admiring my choices when his drunk of a father had found him. She felt a tiny tinge of anger at this, at his betrayal, at his blatant stupidity even though she was not only paying him more than full rent but also with sexual favors. As she looked back at the doorway, she saw it open slightly. The boy, carefully, as though in the wrong, came out with a bag of trash. Little shit,' Jasmine began in her head. But then he stopped, just around the corner, away from the window. He had some sort of case in his hand, which he set in the shadows with care. Then he made a fuss of putting the bag in the rubbish and going back in. What the...? Jasmine wondered. She got up, leaving the dress and toys there, and investigated. With a shock, she realized it was her travel bag, the small suitcase she kept packed with clothes. She opened it, unsure, and found an arrangement of her clothes, perfumes and cosmetics, her notepad and pens and books, and even a few of the unbroken toys stuffed inside. Jasmine looked around, before picking it up and running back to her shelter. He gave them back to me... she thought. He really didn't mean for it to happen. She managed a tiny smile then, happy that at least she had something. But she still had nowhere to go. Or did she...? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - As soon as the door opened she began blurting out the story she had so carefully concocted on the way there. 'I am so so sorry to come calling back like this but well you see I got kicked out because he found my toys that I bought from you and then his dad came in and he was drunk and he made me leave and I barely even have anything and I-' 'Hey hey hey hey, slow down, slow down. You got kicked out?' 'Yes, um, his dad was drunk as usual and he found his son looking at my collection and he went off his nut.' 'Here, come in, you're soaked. Tell me about it over a hot one.' She went in after him without a complaint, happy enough to accept him. When you had nowhere to go, you took what you could. She had learned that in Syria, and it had saved her tits on a few occasions. 'Is that all you have?' Jack asked. 'Yes. The rest was smashed and torn and he threw me out straight away. His son got this for me, otherwise I'd really have nothing.' And Jasmine told him the story. She told him everything, him being the last person she truly trusted. When she was done, he held her lightly. She was content; content simply to lie back and let him help her, which was an oddity in itself for her. 'Oh, FUCK!' She said suddenly. 'Work!' She jumped up, scaring him and spilling her drink. 'I'm late! I'm way way late!' 'Hey, wait a minute, its ok. It's alright. Where do you work?' he said, grabbing her and forcefully stopping her in her panic. 'Uh, the fish and chip shop down my street.' 'Stay here a minute. Let me sort it.' He went into the other room. Jasmine, fretting that she might lose the job too, sat tensely. When he returned she jumped at him. 'What? What? Did you call them?' 'Yes. She said its fine, you don't need to come in today. It's a slow day and you need to find your feet again first. You can come back in a few days.' Jasmine heaved a sigh of relief. 'I should have called myself... I've been so... Dependent, today...' She said absently. 'Hey, every once in a while, you gotta learn to lean on someone else.' He smiled kindly. 'And since you're moving in with me, I don't see anyone better.' 'I... I'm moving in?' 'Well, I don't see where else you can go.' He smiled. 'Besides, I kinda want you here.' Jasmine just grinned and hugged him. 'Oh, thank you, Jack. Thank you.' 'Don't mention it, Jasmine.' It took Jasmine some time to settle in, but settle in she did. Jack's first sight love proved to be true, and Jasmine began to develop her own affection for him. Jack learned slowly about Jasmine's history and came to appreciate fully her unusual attitude, while Jasmine began to trust him more and rely more on his help. Her routine developed into a guide, and then just into habits, as she allowed him more and more into her personal life. She allowed him into her physical life, too, with common sex. Sometimes, it was merely a good, hard fucking. Other times, like their first, it was a kinky adventure. Always it was guaranteed to be fun, and always it relieved her of her stress. But something began to worry Jasmine as her new found ability to orgasm became more normal and accepted. Every time, just as she came, she would have this overwhelming wave of, well, something come over her. She couldn't place it, but it felt like a very soft and tingly nausea. It would wash over her body and mind, dulling out everything, blurring her thoughts and making her skin prickle and tingle. Even though now days it only lasted a few seconds at the peak of her climax, she still felt it too abnormal to ignore. And her dreams. They weren't every night anymore, but more often than not she'd wake with a start, panting, sweating, her skin still prickling and her body still numb. She still felt it, very physically, as though the dream's vividness was so real it manifested itself in her body. Her muscles would be weak and sensitive and her skin would tingle at the touch, and her sixth senses would be as dull as a bat. And her mind. it would be cloudy for several minuted after; seemingly incapable of piecing together a coherent idea. But it would fade and she would sleep again, and no dreams would come until the next night. Her mind has sectioned it off and relieves itself in her dreams.' 'Her subconscious has formed an almost unbreakable bond with the substance.' 'It was only the first strain. We have since toned down its power. Our latest subjects prove to be much more resilient to long term side effects-' 'I know that. The question is, in light of our current... Issues... Do we use this valuable opportunity to once more harness her abilities, or do we leave her and progress with the first test ready prototype of the chip?' 'If you want my recommendation, sir-' 'Yes, that's why I asked you. But make it simple. Answers, not dribble.' 'The chip is promising. She is just another girl with a vagina and a weakness. With the chip, we could have any girl or boy in the world.' 'My my, you have changed your tune. Was that due to your implantation or do you just drool at the very idea of having total dominant control over any pair of boobies this worthless world has to offer?' 'I dare say, both, sir.' 'I'd agree. Either way, i'm glad you've learned your place. Fucking that test subject was a big disadvantage to us.' 'I know, sir.' 'How are you getting used to your new member?' 'The, uh, new features take some getting used to.' 'You mean the metal shell, the electric pistons, or the nerve link it has with your brain?' 'Uh...' 'Of course. When you've worn it in, we might need to test it.' 'Yes, sir.' 'In the mean time, I suggest you practice your responses. Never know when someone might need a servant.' '...' 'You're right. The chip is a promising way forwards. We have twenty two young females to prove that. I think it's time you paid a visit to Russia. Collect our little asset and bring him here. He is to begin work on the neuro circuitry immediately.' 'Yes, sir.' 'Oh, and send an agent to Jasmine's new establishment. Sometime when her little boyfriend isn't around. Put him out for a hew hours if you need to. Make sure her mind stays frazzled. I may still want her yet.' 'Yes sir.' Jasmine was cleaning up after breakfast when the door knock came. She dried off and answered, starting with an apology for her dirty clothes. As soon as she had the catch undone, the door was pushed open and two men in suits came in. The leader held his hand to her face, palm facing her, fingers outstretched, like he was meaning to grab her face. Some invisible force washed over her and her consciousness slipped away. Her remote sleeper, deactivated that day in the basement of the hotel, charged just enough by the force to release its signal. Jasmine dropped back onto the couch. The other man, holding a briefcase, set it down on the table and opened it. It was a laptop, and it was monitoring the local area via radar. Jasmine's assailant wasted no time. He swiftly undressed her, injected something into her neck, and took a long metal tube from his pocket. He slid it into her lady hole, repeatedly whispering as he did so: 'Hush, Jasmine. Hush. Relax. Just slip into the golden bath. The oil coating your whole body, making you tingle all over. Hush. Relax.' He switched it on and it buzzed, an electrical current exciting the nerves in her vagina. Her inner thigh muscles twitched and her pelvic muscles contracted around the sex bullet. Her hips raised and lowered, and a smile of content covered her face. To any outside viewer, the moment would have been surreal; two men, dressed more like hitmen than casual callers, one on a very new tech laptop and the other crouched between the legs of a very pleasured naked lady. Periodically he flicked a setting up, and she responded instantly, hips jerking up and down and moans escaping her lips. 'Nerve tracker implanting now.' The vaginal intruder stated bluntly, pressing the switch. Inside, while the sleek metal released a stronger current, a tiny needle extended swiftly from its tip and injected a microscopic device into the soft tissue there. Jasmine's face registered a tiny frown, but the device's pleasure quickly covered it. He flicked the setting to max, and her back arched, hips going crazy, screaming out as she clenched hard around the shocking bullet. She spurted hard, cum shooting out the small gap under the electrical dildo. He left the device in her until she relaxed, then switched it off, slid it out and stashed it under the couch's pillow. Then, he stood, signalling to the other. They left, closing the door behind them. Jasmine just lay there, naked, smiling, the occasional muscle twitching between her legs. ***** So far, this is the end of the story. I'm interested in writing more but haven't found the drive behind story line yet. If you'd like to hear more, please let me know! ;)