“Wait till you feel them on your clit,” she whispered. “I guarantee it. You’ll cum in thirty seconds.” She sat up, peeled off her T-shirt, while I unclipped my bra, stripped my dress off; I was about to remove my panties, too, but she stopped me. “Allow me.”
Leaning forward, she began tracing her nips up and down the thin fabric, teasing my slit with their firmness. Occasionally, she would draw the sodden cloth to one side and actually make direct contact. For the most part, though, she was content simply to watch me squirm – and, when she did finally press one against my now-screaming clit… I still don’t know exactly what she was doing, but she was right. I came.
She drew down my knickers now, removed hers as well.
“Right, where’s your dildo?”
Oh fuck. “You know, I never got one.” “Oh you are just full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?” She sounded more aggrieved than she looked, and I could taste her disappointment in the air between us.
“It’s alright,” I whispered. “We don’t need one.” I rolled her legs off the bed, slipped down between her knees and began suckling her clit, relying upon her juices and my saliva to ease my finger into her puckered asshole.
It slipped in easier than I anticipated; first one, then a second; then, remarkably, a third. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to push as deep as the dildo, but I could certainly do a lot more than it would, flexing my knuckles, twitching my finger tips, sending any number of delicious sensations coursing through her impaled form. Now she was cumming too; I waited till she was right on the cusp, then withdrew my fingers and slapped her ass hard.
She screamed, so I slapped her again, timing my blows to the pulsing of the phenomenal squirt that blasted out of her pussy. It splashed burning hot against my tits; I rose and pushed my cleavage into her face, let her lap up her own juices as a delicious prelude to tasting mine; and then I was riding her mouth towards my own ecstasy before collapsing face-down on the bed alongside her.
She was still gasping, breaths coming hard and sharp in between her giggles. “Okay, that’s the last time I try and take charge with you,” she murmured. “For someone who doesn’t know diddly about this place, you’re certainly management material.”
I rolled over to face her. “That’s the thing, though. I don’t want to be management material. I don’t even want to be here.”
She sat up. “You what?” “Really. I mean, I know what they’re trying to do… I think… and I suppose some people are quite happy with the way things are. But I don’t want to live my life like this, just hopping from one orgasm to another.”
“But that’s all you do outside, because that’s all anyone does. Except there’s all the other shit in between, like work and family and bills and responsibility…” she made a face. “Who needs that crap? You’ve got a talent, girl, and that’s why you’re here. If you were a painter or a musician or a sculptor, and someone said ‘come and live with me for free,’ and all you have to do in return is paint or sculpt or play, you’d jump at the chance, right? Well, this is the same thing.”
“What about all the people you left behind, though?” I asked. “Don’t you miss them? Don’t you worry about how they feel?”
“Look, I know it sounds callous and I might be the biggest bitch in the world, but you can’t spend your whole life worrying about how other people are feeling.
“What about what you are feeling? Wanting? Believe me, I tried it the other way, and when I first came here… well, not here, but to the other community I was in… I cried myself to sleep every night, just worrying about my mom and dad. But then I thought, hang on….somewhere down the road, you have to sit up and think about what you want. And what I want…” she rolled me onto my back and began kissing towards my pussy, “…is this.”
I thought about stopping her, but – like she said, some time you have to sit up, or in my case, lie back and think about what you want.
We made love six times before my door finally opened and Penny stepped in with a breakfast tray. For a moment, I thought I saw a look of disappointment cross her face when she saw me in bed with someone else; then, when she turned, I saw the tell-tale tip of a long red stripe across her back, as though her night had been spent in
somewhat less voluptuous caresses than mine.
I promised myself I’d make it up to her later; in the meantime… I turned back to Suzy, but she was already off the bed and halfdressed.
“Gotta go. They’ll be around to check on us all in a while, and I’d rather be with my Master than yours.” She leaned forward and kissed me; over-balanced as she tried to cram one of her sneakers onto the wrong foot. “Think about what we talked about,” were her parting words. And then a line of the old song, “Don’t worry, be happy.”
I smiled and watched her leave. The worst thing about all that I’d learned in the night was, I really could see the attraction of this life – assuming that it was a life, and not, as the Magician had hinted, so many years of sexual servitude until you were thrown out to die in the cold. Used up and useless.
To be totally free to indulge yourself in nothing but pleasure, never to have to pay another gas bill, or tip another unctuous hairdresser… according to Suzy, the community had its own stylist, and all I had to do was tell my slave to make me an appointment. I wish someone had told me that before.
There again, there were a lot of things that nobody had told me, things that could have made this entire experience a lot more bearable, if only I’d known about them. But that, I suppose, was one of the lessons that they taught here. You get nothing in this life unless you ask for it. The stylist was only the first thing on the list of things that I would be asking Penny to arrange for me.
I wanted books to read. “You know there’s a huge library down the hall, don’t you?” Suzy had told me when I complained of
boredom. “Just tell your slave to take you there.”
I wanted movies to watch; there was a miniature cinema on the far side of the Main Hall. “Most of what they show is porno, of course, but what do you expect with clientele like this?” I wanted to exercise. Of course there was a gym, and a swimming pool, too.
Fresh air? A courtyard. Conversation and company? Why didn’t I ever show my face in the Main Hall of an evening?
“What the hell do you do with yourself all the time? Don’t tell me you just sit here and stare at the walls twenty-four hours a day?”
I nodded; she punched me hard on the arm. “Wow, no wonder you keep going on about your old life. You haven’t even noticed your new one.”
Only once did her cheerfulness slip away, only once did she actually lower her voice and make me swear never to have this conversation again, with her or anyone else. I asked her if anybody had ever left this place and returned to their old life outside.
“There was one guy. Somehow… I’m not certain, but I heard that he persuaded one of the staff to fall in love with him and then smuggle him out with the laundry. You did know about the laundry service, didn’t you? Or are you hoarding a mountain of stinky undies somewhere?”
I nodded. I was never going to admit that I’d only just discovered that I even had clothes. Although I expected Penny would tell her at some point, and they’d have a damned good laugh over that.
“Anyway… this wasn’t here, this was at the other place. He was smuggled out and somehow he made his way home to New York. The problem was he didn’t have an old life to go back to. He’d been reported dead in some disaster or other, something where they never found the bodies….”
A lot of New Yorkers just vanished and that was the end of it. “His wife had moved away, his old
apartment had been leased, and when he went to visit his parents, his old man thought he was a prowler and shot him dead. The cops came, scooped up the body, and the old man got some sort of civic award for killing a dangerous felon.”
“Didn’t they realize who he was?”
“Who, the cops or the guy’s family? The family didn’t ha
ve a clue. The cops? Well, what do you think?”
I think they knew exactly who they were dealing with. And, if the old man hadn’t shot him as he crossed the lawn out front, someone else would have got him before he even rang the doorbell.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Suzy was right. If you just went with the flow, life really wasn’t so bad. The door to my apartment remained locked while I was in there, but all I needed to do was knock on it and, within a few seconds, an unseen attendant would glide past, unlock it, and then vanish again. No matter how many times I came and went, I never saw a soul in the corridor. And I came and went a lot.
Five times a week I worked out in the gym. I played volleyball with a group of other girls, and I allowed myself to be roped into a remarkably lewd Strip Chess tournament; every time one of your pieces was taken, your opponent would name a part of his body that rhymed with it, and you would have to lick it. After my experience with Sindy, I never let my Castles out of my sight.
I even set myself the task of reading every book authored by Anonymous that I could find in the gargantuan library – not because most of them were erotica, but because it struck me as highly amusing to sit in on the occasional meetings in the reading room and wait for someone to ask me to name my favorite author. Well, it shut up the Amis vs. Rushdie crowd.
I gave the movie theater a miss after I discovered that most of what they showed had been filmed in the community itself, and that the audience (the place was always packed) would cheer wildly every time one of their friends or neighbors appeared on screen. The idea of having to relive any of Miss America’s triumphs was a little more than I could bear.
Live shows in the Main Hall were another matter entirely. The sheer variety on display in there was mind-boggling and for every display that I studiously ignored out of disgust there were others that held me rapt for hours.
I thought back to the mirror on the
wardrobe in that long ago Madrid bedroom, how fascinating it was to watch myself as Pedro pounded away at my pussy. When two men invited me to join them stage center one evening, during a lull in the scheduled action, two girls so locked in a lingering sixty-nine that they didn’t even hear the catcalls around them, my only demand was a looking glass.
The attendants did better than that. I was still undressing, and they had set up a series of mirrors that ensured, whatever position I found myself in, one reflection or another would show me precisely what was
happening.
My partners looked like brothers. Louis was tall, mousy-haired and tanned; Philippe was a little shorter, with a faint olive hue. But they shared the same eyes and aquiline nose; and, it transpired, the same dick. The only difference was, while Louis’ kinked to the left a little, Philippe’s was angled to the right. Their English was not great, but we quickly made ourselves understood. With Louis lying on his back, I straddled him and began to ride, while his brother crouched behind me and, with less preparation than I ever expected, slipped himself smoothly and all but painlessly between my parted butt cheeks. And, thanks to the angles of the mirrors, I saw everything.
It was awesome. No, at first it was just bizarre, two
Mediterranean shafts angling inside me, one downward, one up. It looked as though they were going to collide, and there was
certainly a great deal of contact as they pounded in and out, with just a half inch or so of perineum to keep them from jousting to the death – or from slamming together inside the same hole, which is the other thing that it looked like.
The sensations were equally bizarre. Of course I was no longer a stranger to having my ass fucked; and I suspected, though I wasn’t sure, that I’d already submitted to this same act once before, after I’d been let out of the latex. But this time was different, and not just because I could see what was happening.
I was in control as well. When Philippe slowed his pace a little, it was my hand that reached back and slapped his ass back to action, and when Louis groaned the approach of his orgasm, it was my pussy muscles that clenched around his cock, that calming deep squeeze that works almost every time. They would cum when I let them cum. And, just to make it interesting, that’s when I disengaged myself from both of them, so that they shot thick and furious across each other’s spurting cock.
Admittedly, I didn’t expect them to then flip into their own sixty-nine and begin licking their own juices from one another’s balls, but hey, they apparently did everything else together. Why not clean up together as well?
I returned to my seat, thrilled by what had just transpired; breathless from the
succession of mini-orgasms that had shaken both my passageways; and, for a moment there, I sensed myself surveying the room, to see if there was anyone there who might give me the big one that my nerves were still jangling for.
Then I stopped. Just a matter of feet away, where the black diamonds on the carpet gave way to the deep purple border, was the spot where I had stood, proud and naked, defiantly denouncing all that this community stood for. Before an astonished Magdalene, and a stunned to silence crowd, I had announced, or tried to announce, though the words weren’t quite there, “I am not like you. You cannot make me like you.” Grasping hold of all the emotions that still rattled through my body, those words sounded now like a hollow, empty tantrum. I was exactly like her.
With that realization, there burned again the need to escape. Or, at least, to think about escape. According to Suzy, the only people who came and went from here were the outsiders who kept the community stocked with food, with essentials, with students, whatever. “A lot of the coming and going is handled by the cops,” she told me. “But basically, it could be anybody in uniform. You’d be amazed how many people here were grabbed by Immigration Authority… deportation is a great way of disappearing someone. Security forces, the military…”
“Hotel bellhops,” I murmured. “Wouldn’t surprise me. I was talking to one kid who was picked up by a ticket inspector on a train. Frog-marched off at the next station, into a limo and away.”
“Does anybody actually know where we are, where this place is?” “I’m sure someone does,” she shrugged. “I know it’s some place warm. All year round, you never see rain, scarcely even see clouds.”
“I think it’s Spain,” I mused. “They grabbed me in Madrid.” “That’s probably got nothing to do with it. Everyone here was grabbed from
somewhere; your slave came here from London. I know someone who was snatched from the Australian outback. One day he was hiking to Ayers Rock, fell into
conversation with a bunch of park rangers, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up here. Forget Spain, we could be
anywhere on earth. Anywhere that’s warm, anyway.”
I was stumped. Since gaining my liberty, I must have walked for miles through the corridors here and never spotted anything that even looked like an exit. I found the hospital wing, and was amazed to see how modern it looked, even if the nurses’ uniforms did look like they’d been specially starched for a mid-70s blue movie. I found a mortuary and a little undertaker’s office – there were two doors, one, frosted-glasspaneled and befittingly mahogany, was labeled STRICTLY MOURNERS ONLY; the other, white and scuffed, like a
serviceman’s entrance, was marked OTHER VISITORS.
“Well,” Suzy shrugged when I mentioned it. “Just because someone’s dead, it doesn’t mean they can’t carry on having a sex life, does it?”
There was even a post office and, though you could only send mail to other students’ rooms, the staffers were just officious as their counterparts back home. I thought I’d surprise Penny with something I’d written, and asked if they could deliver it. “Not without a complete address, I’m afraid,” the old woman behind the counter told me. “Room number, block number… and the recipient’s surname would help as well.” I didn’t know any of them. I’d just have to give her the story myself.
My writing had taken on a life of its own. The day after I told Penny to get me a
new journal, the Magician called in and handed me my laptop. One glance told me that the modem had been removed, together with any indication that the Internet ever existed. But the latest version of Word was installed, together with a bundle of other new programs.
“You really don’t need to keep writing, you know,” he told me. “That was simply an exercise, to help us get to know you.”
“I understand, sir,” I replied. “It’s just that, I rather enjoy doing it.” He nodded. “Good. And we enjoy reading. You won’t mind if we access your hard drive on occasion, to keep ourselves up with your adventures?” He phrased it as a question, but there was a threat concealed in there as well. No secret diaries, no coded notes, I could do nothing that I was not prepared to share with the entire community.
I shook my head. “I would be honored, Sir.” “Perhaps we should take the completed journal to the print shop. It would make a fine addition to our library,” he continued.
Again, “I would be honored, Sir.” “Thank you.” He picked it up and leafed through the first few pages. “I am so pleased that you’ve settled in here. I know it can be difficult when one first arrives in a new place, a new environment. But once people understand that we really don’t want to hurt them; that we do have their best interests at heart…” he paused and looked thoughtful. “You do understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied and, for all my stillvibrant dreams of somehow escaping, I was surprised to discover that I wasn’t lying. In their own way, within the codes of their own world, they really did want to make people happy. It was just a shame…
The Magician’s eyebrows arched. “You wish to add something?” I shook my head. “No, Sir.” “I think you meant to say, ‘yes, Sir’,” he replied. “Or am I mistaken in my summation of your progress?”
“I was just thinking; I do understand what your intentions are. I just wish that it wasn’t at the expense of so many other things.”
He sat down, his hands folded comfortably on his lap. “How so?” “Friends, family, the outside world….” I saw him prepare to speak, and rushed on to cut him off. “I know what you’re going to say, that the people here are my friends and family now, and that there’s nothing that the outside world can offer that our community cannot. But that’s only true to a point. I love to travel; I can’t do that here. I love to meet new people… I do meet new people here, but it only ever seems to be with one aim in mind, and sometimes it would be nice to talk to someone, without knowing you’ll probably be tying them to the bedpost in half an hour.”
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