Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Adjusters #17 - Consolations Keywords: MF, mc Posted: June 7, 2011 Edited: June 7, 2011 The Adjusters #17 Consolations Daniel had not said anything for the last ten minutes. Radhu was almost surprised to see his friend still there when he looked away from his computer terminal. "By the way, I have a few items of note that may be considered somewhat negative," said the lanky Indian. "First, last week, based on your judicious hint my facial recognition software fed by a regional network of surveillance cameras alerted me to a match on Jennifer at the local airport. A contact of mine has now confirmed Biff's and Jennifer's presence on a connecting flight from Boston to Saint Thomas in the Virgin Islands last Sunday. One-way tickets." Daniel nodded, sipping some Indian liquor he had found in his friend's cupboards. A week earlier Jackson, through their common friend Cindy, had passed along the information that Biff was skipping town with Jenn in tow. "Well, at least that part of the story checks out." He did not ask Radhu about his contact -- the tall Indian's web of associations was often frightening to contemplate. "Also, the acquaintance to whom I loaned Serena's charm bracelet for analysis has reported his findings." "Let me guess. Nothing." "Indeed. He said, and I quote, 'just your typical cheapo gimmicky bracelet.' Not even manufactured with genuine silver, but only a patina over some unremarkable alloy. A small enterprise in Portland, Maine, distributes them. Would you like me to scrutinize this connection further?" "I doubt it'd lead anywhere. So it's not the bracelets, then. Great." Daniel sighed. "It's all gone to shit, Rad. All of it." He leaned back into the sofa. Maybe it was him. Maybe that was it, the key to it all. Maybe he was the fuck up. "I'm not cognizant of such an hyperbolic assessment having any bearing on reality." "Let's see -- you're locked up in this apartment with apparently no intent of ever getting sunlight on your skin again, Serena is spending her time doing Lord knows what and has been so completely unreliable that I barely recognize her anymore, and oh, let's not forget, my girlfriend, and recent fiancee, has taken off for the Caribbean with a thick-skulled neanderthal, breaking up with me for no discernible reason, and a lot of that crap seems to revolve around that stupid frat, and no one seems to be willing to even look into it." He was getting angry, and was aware enough to realize he was being unfair to Radhu. The problem was that he felt helpless, a feeling with which he had little experience. Confronting the fraternity president, hiring a private investigator to find Jenn when she first disappeared, talking to the police chief the previous week, all those efforts had yielded nothing. What made matters worse was the letter he had received at the beginning of the week, a letter that had been slipped by hand in his mailbox. It was a handwritten letter, from Jenn -- he recognized the handwriting, that unique way she had of looping her Ls -- a dear-john letter if he had ever seen one, in which she admitted that she had gotten cold feet about the wedding, that it had all gone too fast, that it had been suffocating, and that she needed her space -- space to breathe, to blossom, to find herself. And that she had found Biff who could help her through all of that, because he was understanding and kind and was willing to let her proceed at her own pace. And not to go and look for her because it was over and she hoped he would have a nice life. A big load of bullshit, Daniel knew, but he had stared at that letter until he was shrouded by the night's darkness. He had later learned that most of Jenn's friends had heard from her as well, either by email or through the phone, and were told that she was okay but that she was taking a break after her break up with Daniel, and that she needed some time to think and was therefore taking a leave of absence, and not to worry about her and that she would get in touch with them when she returned. A friend of Daniel at the registrar's office was kind enough to confirm that indeed Jennifer Hansen had filed a petition for a leave of absence from the University for the remainder of the semester, and that it had been granted. In other words, as far as her friends were concerned, as far as the University was concerned, as far as the police was concerned, everything was on the level. Jenn had left, and no one was worried. Daniel believed none of it. But from now on, people would dismiss anything he said as sour grapes, automatically assuming he was upset that Jenn had left him. He was stuck. He had to reluctantly appreciate how elegant the gambit was. Could Biff really have thought that strategically? He might have underestimated his adversary. Daniel was certain that they -- whomever they were -- must have somehow coerced Jenn into writing those letters and emails and making those phone calls. To be honest, after having coerced her into leaving for the South with Biff, having her send those messages sounded like a small thing. Daniel had wondered whether Jenn had been able to smuggle out a message to him or anyone else about what was going on, but there had been nothing he could discern in the letter he had received. He had asked Radhu to look at the letter and see whether he could discover some secret code in it, but Radhu had just shaken his head and said that while he could look it over, there was barely a negligible chance of discovering anything unless he had an _a priori_ idea of which secret code was used. Another dead end. All of which left him depressed. But at least he had calmed down. The hysteria that had plagued him ever since Jenn first disappeared three weeks earlier had been replaced by a quiet determination to get to the bottom of the mystery. He needed to think of something else. "So how's the life of an online student treating you then?" Since Radhu had developed his crippling inability to go outside, he had agreed to become a guinea pig for the University new online programs, in his case in mathematical physics. "I find it intensely liberating, if I want to be unabashedly honest, which I want to be. And superbly convenient. I can do it all from here, my center of operation, my control nexus." He pointed to the two monitors, his gesture sweeping to the webcams and the microphones and the speakers and several devices of which Daniel could not discern the use. "I can communicate with teaching assistants and instructors when needed, and my thesis advisor has proved willing to interact via webcam. I venture I am additionally fortunate that my interests chiefly lie in the most theoretical fields of physics, and that I am not an experimentalist. Although," he mused, staring at a wall, "I would not be surprised that a mechanism for conducting the panoply of experiments required for a thorough experimental physics course could be devised. In fact..." his voice trailed, as he pondered the problem. Daniel, finishing his drink and reaching for the bottle, considered his friend. He was still Radhu, still himself, despite this self-imposed hermitage within the confines of his apartment. He seemed even more himself than ever, as if shedding the mantle of social interactions had distilled him to his essence. Odd how the world works, sometimes, he reflected. He was staring at all the computing equipment on his friend's desk, while Radhu was still thinking about remote experimentation setups, when a thought that had been running in the back of his mind for the last few days jumped to the fore. "Rad, I might have a couple of favors to ask from you." "Whatever you require, my friend." "I need to understand what is going on. You keep telling me to keep my mind open to the possibility that perhaps everything is just as it appears, but I don't buy it. I am still convinced that somehow, the frat is involved. I'm not sure how, not sure why, but they're involved." "And you still conjecture that their presumed shenanigans involves some kind of mind control? Following our discussion three weeks ago, I investigated connections between the fraternity and companies known or suspected to dabble in mind-altering technology, and nothing has yet emerged." "Fine, so the connection is not that clear. But my gut's screaming at me, and I want to know why. Unfortunately, we can't move directly." "Confrontation has not delivered the requisite information, that is true." "Right, going after the frat seems difficult, and the police has no reason to investigate because someone managed to get Jenn to tell everyone that she left town of her own volition." "Unless, it goes without saying, that desire was authentic on her part." "You know I don't believe that, and deep inside, you don't either. But that's irrelevant. The point is, we can't go at it directly. We need information." "Might this have anything to do with your befriending of this Jackson fellow?" "Partly. I'm hoping I can get him to talk about what's going on at the frat. He does seem like a nice guy, and he genuinely seems to feel bad about Biff stealing Jenn away." "Do you trust him?" "No. But I don't need to trust him." Radhu nodded. "But we need more than Jackson. We need lots more. And there is a link that we haven't explored yet, a link between the fraternity, Marjorie, and possibly the events at NADA last semester --" "Snowman," completed Radhu. "Snowman indeed. He knows something. We need to find him." "How do you intend to achieve this feat?" "No idea. But a first step might be your facial recognition stuff." "That may prove spectacularly challenging." "Why? It found Jenn at the airport, no?" "Indeed, but I had access to several photographs of Jennifer to construct a matching pattern. Similarly with Biff, although the pattern was much less detailed because the only photographs I had available were gleaned from the Internet. We unfortunately have no pictorial representation of Snowman that I am aware of." "Could we fake it?" "We could give the software general patterns and a broad description, but the result will be abysmally slow, and substantially inaccurate." "Damn. Okay, well, still, it's better than nothing. Anything will help. I'll try to see if I can find a picture of him somewhere." Daniel paused. "Second favor. From here you can access every computer on campus, right?" "As long as they are reachable, yes, however tautologous that statement may appear to be." "Including computers located in private houses?" "If they are connected to the Internet, I cannot contemplate why those would be any different. And since most everyone is indeed connected to the Internet, that is not really a question. Why are you inquiring?" "Could you get into the computers at Delta Iota Kappa and, I don't know, snoop around some?" "Well, laying to the side the ethical implications of the question and treating it as an hypothetical scenario, I would imagine it highly depends on the kind of firewall they have installed, and the extent to which their computers are interconnected. And, it goes without saying, the competence of their system administrators. But all things being equal, I do not see why it should be impossible." "Radhu, my friend Radhu. I am about to ask you to hack into Delta Iota Kappa and see if you can find anything, anything at all, about what they're doing, anything about those bracelets, what happened to Jenn, anything. Whether or not they are behind what happened at NADA last year, anything." Radhu was looking in his direction but not actually looking at him, clearly lost in thought. Was he thinking back to that party at NADA? Just then, Daniel's phone rang. A quick look revealed the caller. Cindy. "Hello?" "Hi Dan. Cindy here. Bad time?" "No, it's okay, just hanging out with Radhu. What's up?" "I just wanted to know if you were still up to meet for your final project tomorrow? I have a free period at three." "Sure. That'd be great. Three. Meet at the Student Center?" "Perfect. Also..." and Daniel heard her hesitation at the other end of the phone. "I... Look, I was wondering if you'd be up for going out to dinner Friday night. Not for a date -- I mean, we wouldn't be alone or anything. Jackson and Kyra, a nice little friendly outing. You know, to entertain ourselves a bit? Maybe catch a movie or something. I think Showgirls 2 is out now." "Showgirls 2? Huh..." "Kidding! About the movie, I mean. But I think dinner might be fun. What do you say?" "Sure, Cin. Sounds great." "Great! We're thinking of heading to the Grill down on College. If you're okay with it, we can settle the details tomorrow when we chat." "Looking forward to it." "Same here, Dan, Same here! See you tomorrow. Bye!" Daniel disconnected the call. Radhu was looking at him. "Go ahead," Daniel said, "ask your question." "I am wondering what your position was with respect to her." Radhu nodded towards Daniel's cell phone. "Do you trust her? By your own admission, she has associations to the fraternity, she was likely carnally acquainted with Biff, she has a friendship with Jackson, she was harboring a charms bracelets, she was present at the NADA party last semester, and she pounced on you like a starving leopard when Jennifer disappeared. A less suspicious mind than mine, if it were to play with the rules you yourself have established, and I am not acquiescing that they are correct, might think that you were being set up." "Yeah, I considered it. I'm still considering it. Do I trust her? Not really. Frankly, I don't know who I can trust anymore. Well, except you, really. But like Jackson, I can play along without trusting her. And you know, it's weird, but my gut tells me that she's okay. I don't have anything concrete to base it on. But she's always been straight with me. My gut's not like your scientific data, of course, but it's all I have to go on." "You seem to navigate existence adequately with your instinct, Daniel. I cannot deny that." "Why, Rad, is that actually a compliment right there?" Radhu did not respond to this question. "As an answer to your previous question, yes, I will hack into Delta Iota Kappa and snoop around, as the kids are wont to exclaim these days. I will let you know what I discover." "Thanks Rad. You don't know how much I appreciate this. Please be careful, okay?" "Only insofar as you are careful yourself, my friend." * * * The following Friday late afternoon, Daniel was standing in the middle of his bedroom. He was nervous, he realized, and that was unexpected. This was just a friendly outing, a way to keep himself distracted, nothing more. Trying to maintain a semblance of normal life. But there was no denying it, he was nervous. This was his first date in a long time. Except that it was not a date. He was still Jenn's fiance, would be until he could get her in front of him again and get the truth out of her. He was not even on board for some rebound sex, as Serena liked to call it. So why was he nervous? He pondered for a second what to wear. He pulled out a jacket from the closet and tried it -- casual, but still elegant. I'm being ridiculous, he thought. He shook his head, then frowned when he felt something heavy against his side. There was something in the jacket's pocket. He pulled out something that looked like an Olympic bronze medal attached to a leather string. It took two seconds before he recognized it. Memories from that night coming flooding back -- the party thrown by the New American Deal Association last semester, the party that he and Radhu had crashed in their search for Marjorie, the party where Radhu had been grabbed, beaten, tied to a chair, and threatened with genital mutilation of a most horrible kind. And at that party, they had those medallions, like the one he was now holding. One of the games that the NADA folks had organized. There had been one medallions for each cocktail waitress that had been going around offering drinks to guests. All beautiful, all wearing the Delta Iota Kappa silver charms bracelet, remembered Daniel. Another of those coincidences that Serena so casually dismissed. The game was twisted in its simplicity. Wearing one of those medallions would allow you to order the girl associated with the medallion around, and she would do what you asked, without complaining. The game had degenerated fairly quickly into a veritable orgy. Daniel had wondered at the time how much the girls had been paid to be willing to participate in such a demeaning game. It must have been a generous amount, because if his recollections were correct, all the girls had seemed to play along without difficulty, if not with enthusiasm. He looked at the medallion again, thinking about the relationship between the medallion, the events at the party, the bracelets -- again, every cocktail waitress had such a bracelet at the NADA party -- and Marjorie, and Jenn. Perhaps he needed to go and visit Marjorie, get her version of the events. Serena had said that she was resting at some sanatorium, somewhere. However he drew it, the picture always smelled like something straight out of science fiction, with fumes of brainwashing and mind control. Which his ongoing research with Cindy showed was perhaps more achievable than he had ever thought possible. He turned the medallion over, reading Cindy's name engraved on the back. He remembered how, at the party, where she was serving as cocktail waitress, she had put that medallion around his neck herself, and offer him her body. The look in her eyes had been serious, determined, lusty. He was getting hard just remembering it. The image of Cindy spreading her pretty legs and holding them up by the knees, a look of wanton desire on her face, flashed in his mind. He took a deep breath. That was not the Cindy he knew. She never acted that way. Except that one time, when he had had this medallion around his neck. Of course, he had taken it off, but before he could do anything else the whole thing with Radhu came up and he must have stashed the medallion in his pocket without thinking, and there it had remained until now. He stared at the medallion a while longer, trying still to make sense of it all, before dropping it on the dresser, where it lay over a heap of leather right next to Jenn's engagement ring. * * * A few hours later, Daniel was approaching the Grill, an otherwise unassuming restaurant on College Avenue right where the Darnell Ghetto merged into the city of North Alexandria proper. It was a warm cloudless night, lots of people were mulling about, and everyone was cheerful, smiling, and friendly. The atypical February weather was having a tonic effect, fighting the blues that would otherwise typically shroud over all of New England. "Dan!" The voice snapped him out of his reverie. He had arrived. And there was Cindy. She had a broad smile on her face, and she stepped up and hugged him tight, pressing her little body against his and he hugged her back. Her hair, bunched in a ponytail, smelled of almonds. She looked good, and he told her so. She smiled and did a little twirl. She was wearing a simple blue dress with large white polka dots, held up by a pair of spaghetti straps that left her shoulders bare but which she kept covered by a white scarf. The dress, unsurprisingly, barely reached the middle of her thighs, and a pair of impressively tall white spike heeled shoes added what looked like four inches to her diminutive height. Cindy noticed his eyes trading down to her feet and giggled. "Yeah, I don't wear these often, but I guess I felt tonight was special. And they go so well with the dress, don't you think?" And with that, she posed, legs apart, a hand on her hip, a glint that could only be described as mischievous in her eye. "You look amazing, Cin." She practically blushed. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." Daniel looked around. "They're inside already," said Cindy. "Should we, then?" he said, offering his arm. Cindy laughed again, but took his arm and together they walked into the restaurant, under the amused eyes of people around them. There was a not entirely unexpected large crowd inside, it being Friday night and the restaurant being a fairly popular spot. It tried to tread the fine line between a pub-style joint and a moderate-class dress-up dining affair. Opinions were divided on whether it actually achieved that goal, but everyone agreed it had the best brochettes in town. Nodding to the waiter at the welcoming desk, Cindy guided Daniel to a booth in the corner. Jackson and Kyra were already there. Jackson had Kyra's hand in his, and was whispering something in her ear. "You know, if we're bothering you we can just leave you two alone," said Cindy, approaching the booth. Kyra jerked back from Jackson, blushing fiercely, and she stammered while Jackson grinned and shook his head. Cindy laughed in response, and sat down, with Daniel following suit. "Hi Jackson. How are you?" "I'm great, actually. Good to see you again, Daniel. How... how are you holding up?" Daniel shrugged. "You know how it is -- some days are good, some days are bad. Kyra, right?" Kyra nodded. And then, right there, in a flash which in retrospect was probably prompted by the medallion he had found earlier in his jacket, he remembered why Kyra looked so familiar. Of course. She was Kyra, the cute redhead who had been a cocktail waitress at the NADA party, and whom he had spied in one of the upstairs rooms, getting taken by two partygoers and seemingly delighting in the rough treatment. How could he have not recognized her before? And could that image be reconciled with the friendly and seemingly shy girl currently in front of him? She looked beautiful, with delicate features and high cheekbones, an easy smile, and piercing green eyes, all emphasized by her short red hair. Her shirt was off one shoulder, exposing a lightly freckled skin. "Hi Daniel. Good to meet you. Actually," she hesitated, "have we met before?" "Well, we ran into each other a couple of weeks back at the cafe on campus." "No, before that. You look... I dunno... familiar?" Well yes, Kyra, as a matter of fact, we met at a party once where you came on to me, thought Daniel, who instead simply said, "maybe at a party somewhere, but then again, I have a very common face." Kyra eyed him suspiciously, while Cindy elbowed him. "That's so not true." Jackson turned to Kyra. "Daniel here has been going through a rough patch lately. His fiancee left him." He turned to Daniel. "Sorry, man, but I believe in clearing the air." Daniel shrugged again. "It's okay. It would have come out anyways." He looked at Kyra. "Yes, she left about three week ago. With another man. Haven't seen her since." "Oh my god! I'm so sorry. That must have hurt." She extended her hand, put it on his. Her hands were slight, like the rest of her. "Did you know the guy?" "Yeah, sorta." "It was Biff," Jackson added, making a face. "Biff? You mean Biff from --" Jackson nodded. "Yew?!" Kyra made a face of her own. "That guy gives me the creeps! That way he has of undressing you with his eyes..." She shivered. Cindy took Daniel's hand under the table and squeezed it. Daniel appreciated the support, but was still trying to figure out the game, if game there was. Kyra looked genuinely disgusted, and Jackson looked bothered by Kyra's statement, almost angry. Despite the rocky start, dinner was a pleasant affair. Jackson and Kyra were an entertaining couple, and they seemed to be very much into each other. Jackson certainly had eyes only for her, and many a private smile were exchanged during the hour. Daniel learned that Kyra was studying biology, but that her real passion was painting. She had no love for contemporary art, but was drawn to neoclassicism. Which she thought was hilarious -- "Not only do I love doing something that has zero prospects for the future," she said, "but I like doing it in a style that has been out of fashion for hundreds of years!" Hence the biology degree. She was not sure what she would do with it afterwards, though, but she was happy to cross that bridge when she got there. In the mean time, she had found herself a small job doing illustrations for a biology textbook written by one of her professors. Jackson, Daniel remembered, was interested in sports physiology, and his path was somewhat clearer, at least in his own mind: he wanted to work for an NFL football franchise. When Cindy pointed out to him that the chances were astronomically small of that working out, Jackson replied that one of his uncles was manager of something or other for the Miami Dolphins, and that gave him an in. While waiting for dessert, the girls left the table to go and freshen themselves up, and they laughed as they headed out to the restrooms, Cindy with her short dress bouncing on her high heels, Kyra with a pair of painted-on leather pants and boots. Several pairs of eyes followed them surreptitiously on their way, including Daniel's and Jackson's. "Hope you don't mind me spilling about your girl and stuff, man. I felt it was best." Daniel waved a hand. "It's all right. Probably good that it's out anyways. So... still no word on Biff?" "Cindy passed the message along, right? That Biff was leaving town?" Daniel nodded. "Well, he's gone, and no one's heard anything from him. I'm not sure where he went, but word is, Jenn's gone with him." Daniel nodded again. "Weird thing is," continued Jackson, "Bernie's disappeared too. And that's unexpected. I mean, the guy's a fixture. Doesn't have much of a family, so he tends to stick around the frat even when the brothers leave for holiday and stuff. But he's been gone for weeks now." "Could he have gone with Biff? Were they close?" "No one was close to Biff. And Bernie's kind of the intellectual of the lot, and Biff always made fun of him and pushed him around. So I don't really see Bernie having gone with Biff anywhere." Daniel had nothing to retort, and desserts arrived before he could follow up on that thread of conversation. "So things seem to be going well with Kyra," said Daniel. Jackson's eyes lit up like someone had flipped a switch. "She's amazing! We've been hanging out for weeks now, and it's still like I'm seeing her for the first time, you know? She's beautiful and sweet. And you should see her paintings -- she's got talent pouring out of her ears! And not just for painting either. In bed, she's --" He stopped, realized what he was saying, then looked sheepishly at Daniel, who had to laugh at the younger man's face. "It's okay, Jackson. I can deal -- people are going to keep on falling in love and having sex and generally be happy however miserable I feel about my own fucked up love life. Enjoy it while it lasts." "Look, I don't know what your plans are, but you know that Cindy's pretty sweet on you, and she may not be such a bad person to rebound with. I'm just saying, she'd understand. In fact, she probably expects it." Daniel shrugged. "I'm just not ready. She's sweet, and she's fun, but I can't think past just hanging out, you know what I mean? No relationship, nothing complicated. I'm damaged goods, right now." Jackson rolled his eyes. "Who's saying anything about a relationship? I'm saying how about you bring her home and, you know, do her? No strings attached, and I'm pretty sure she'd go for it. Especially if you played the sick puppy that needs TLC routine. I mean, you can't tell me that you're not attracted to her. Just her legs, man -- wouldn't you want to feel those legs wrapped around you?" "I'm just not like that." "Maybe you should start." Shrugging, Daniel spied Cindy and Kyra returning from the restrooms. On the way they were stopped by a tall woman with raven hair wearing a long leather coat. They talked for a few minutes, and then the woman went on her way, navigating to the restaurant's exit. The girls returned to the table. "Oh goodie! Desserts are here!" Cindy dropped next to Daniel and attacked her banana split, while Kyra looked on, amused. "I don't know how you manage not to gain twenty pounds when you go out, Cin." "High metabolism," she replied. She turned to Daniel. "Want some?" she offered him her spoon, dripping with ice cream and warm chocolate. "No thanks, I'm full." "Pfft... amateur." And she slid the spoon in her mouth, and pulled it out slowly, her eyes on Daniel's, and the movement had such a suggestive quality to it that he felt a flicker of arousal, instantly followed by a flicker of guilt. "By the way," asked Daniel, turning to look at the exit. "Who was that?" "Who?" "The woman you talked to two seconds ago?" Cindy shrugged. "Just some woman that was asking for directions to the city center. Why?" "No reason, really. Just thought I'd seen her around." "She had wonderful eyes," added Kyra, leaning her head against Jackson's shoulder, "light grey, barely a touch of color, but tonally rich nonetheless. I could never paint that." "Don't sell yourself short, babe," replied Jackson. "Now, guys, I don't know what you've got planned for after dinner, but there's this party that a friend is throwing a few blocks down, and it might be the perfect way to cap the evening." "Not a Delta Iota Kappa party, is it?" asked Cindy, an eye on Daniel. "No way. A friend of mine from sports physio. Bit of a geek, but throws decent bashes. Wanna come?" Cindy looked at Daniel. "What do you say?" Daniel shrugged. "I dunno..." "Come on, man," prodded Jackson. "Betcha anything it'll be a fun evening." * * * The party was held on one floor of a large house in the Ghetto. It was already full of students by the time Jackson, Kyra, Daniel, and Cindy showed up. Most were mingling, talking and laughing in the various rooms of the apartment suite. Some were sitting in couches, kissing, while others were cheering at the large screen television. The overall lighting was kept low, with only a few cloth-darkened lamps providing ambience. Jackson and Kyra soon disappeared, while Daniel and Cindy hung about in the living room. Daniel noticed the show playing on the television. "Well I'll be... Kittens' Den," said Daniel, his voice catching for a second. Kittens' Den was the show that he, along with Radhu, Jenn, and Serena, had almost religiously followed the previous year, getting together every week to catch the broadcast. It had been a convenient excuse to wind down and relax and keep in touch, really. Daniel looked at the screen in wonder. The second season had started, clearly. And seeing the familiar characters only served to bring into focus just how out of whack his current life was. How did it go so wrong, he wondered? What happened? He could feel Cindy's eyes on him. "Huh, what's Kittens' Den?" she asked. Daniel smiled a sad smile before looking at her, and summarized what was was a fairly convoluted storyline about an organization taking in runaways and prisoners, generally female, but not exclusively, and using mind-control technology to overwrite their personalities with artificial ones for various purposes. For instance, the organization underwrote a high-class escort service, where a customer could order a girl for the evening, the day, or the week, to his or her complete specification. Cindy rolled her eyes. "Sounds like a really mind-expanding show. I'm starting to understand a bit more why you're fascinated by the mind-control stuff," she said, clearly referring to his senior project. Daniel shrugged, feeling vaguely embarrassed. "It's better than it sounds." "No shit it's better than it sounds!" They turned to see a young man coming towards them with two large bottles of beer. He was unremarkable aside from an abundant beard and hair that made his head look too big for his short frame. He extended the bottles towards them. Daniel and Cindy each grabbed one. "And this new season is looking particularly interesting," continued the young man, pulling another beer bottle out of nowhere and starting to take a long pull. "I mean, they got some high-profile chicks to bare it all in pretty demeaning roles as slave kittens, and they introduced these two investigators for the Den in charge of recovering runaway kittens and researchers that try to leave the company with their tech. Very X-files, and the woman's a total fox, you can imagine, with legs up to there," and his eyes trailed down to Cindy's legs when he said that, almost unwittingly, "huh... but they're also both ruthless efficient killing machines, and they prove rather imaginative when interrogating suspects to obtain information. I'm Aaron, by the way, your host for the evening, and let me tell you, you look smashing tonight baby." Cindy smiled, acknowledging the compliment. "I'm Daniel." "Aaron. Good to meet you. Well, enjoy yourself, and you," he addressed Cindy, "I certainly hope I will run into you later." His eyes lingered down her body. Daniel and Cindy made the round, but besides Jackson and Kyra, who were busy discussing with another couple in the corner, they did not know anyone else, until Cindy recognized one of her classmates and they started discussing an upcoming course project. Daniel left Cindy to her discussion, circled the party one more time, and finally ended up in a one-seater in the living room watching the running episode of Kittens' Den. He lost track of time, and when Cindy reappeared thirty minutes later, he looked at her as if coming out of a daze. "Mind if I sit down?" "Sure, go ahead." "Thanks." He was expecting her to sit down on the chair beside his, or at worst on the floor, but she slipped between his legs and sat down on his lap, one hand wrapped around his neck. She was holding another bottle. "Just make yourself comfortable," he said, his face deadpan. "I will," she replies, moving around to find the best position on his thigh. She was warm and tight against his body, and her dress had risen up high exposing her legs in their full delicious glory. She crossed them in front of him, and leaning back against his shoulder, turned to finish watching the show. Around them, people were still talking and drinking and in various places you could see in the glow of the television screen that they were kissing and making out. "Cin, you're drunk." She giggled. "Maybe. So?" He had nothing to respond to that. They watched the show, them and a small group of people that had coalesced around the screen, until it finished and someone flipped the channel and they landed in the middle of a somewhat raunchy romantic comedy about two people who meet by chance and spend the rest of the movie looking for each other while dealing with lovers, ex-lovers, and of course family. Not the sort of movie that stretched one's mind in any way, but the quips were witty enough, the cast seemed to be having enough fun, and everyone was pretty enough to make for an entertaining mindless time. Cindy was still leaning against him, and he could feel her heat from where he was. He stole a glance at her thighs, exposed as they were by her having crossed her legs. Daniel thought about what Jackson had told him earlier, about sleeping with her. He could not see himself there, not yet. Images of Jenn kept intruding into his mind every time he did, and it hurt. "So Kittens' Den. Explain to me something -- why didn't the researcher that escaped -- why didn't he just, I don't know, rewire everyone's brain so that none of them could reveal where he was hiding." "Well, the stuff that they use to mess with minds only works on women, apparently." "That's stupid. Why?" "What do mean, why? That's just the gimmick of the show. Something about the brain chemistries between male and female being different, susceptible to different stuff. They've never really explained it." "That doesn't make any sense." "Hold on -- you're telling me that of all the things about that show that you've seen tonight, all the stuff about a gigantic conspiracy involving hundreds of thousands of people and that somehow no one anywhere notices, all the stuff about the mind wiping and mind imprinting and general mind fucking that goes on, out of all that, what really breaks your suspension of disbelief is their hypothetical chemistry difference between brains?" Cindy shrugged, then smiled. "Just goes against everything I've heard about biochemistry, that's all. Call it a professional deformation. I was thinking of going pre-med before getting into economics. Still might really." "I didn't know that." "I don't tell many people. People start treating you differently when they think you're smart. And I don't like that. So I tone it down. Take my blonde hair, my cute tush, my round boobs, add a few giggles here and there --" and she demonstrated, sounding like a stereotypical airhead, "-- well, no one sees me as a threat." "You're saying smarts is threatening?" Cindy looked at Daniel with a mock sad expression on her face, and ran her hand across his cheek. "Oh, sweetie, if only there were more guys like you around, a girl could really get used to it." * * * Jackson stumbled into the living room, distracted by a young man on the large television screen enthusiastically doing a young redhead girl from behind on a bed. He grinned, turning to Kyra, who was keeping him from collapsing to the ground. "She's almost as cute as you are when we fuck, babe!" "You're drunk Jackson! Come on, sit down before you hurt yourself." "I love you Kyra!" he said, dropping onto the couch, and bringing her down with him on his lap. Kyra yelped. "I'll take it a lot more seriously when you tell me without half a dozen beers in you. Come on, let me up!" Jackson hugged her close, running his hands down her back. "God, I want you so bad." He kissed her neck. Kyra laughed, and pushed him away. "Jackson, behave! We'll play when we get my place later. I'll make it worth your while, I promise." He dropped his hand to her ass, and squeezed hard enough to make her yelp. "Come on, Kyra, you been teasing me all evening with those fucking' pants of yours. Tight painted-on leather pants. You love guys looking at your ass, don't you? You little cocktease!" Kyra blushed, and pushed him away once more. "Jackson! Come on!" Jackson looked at her for a long while, a smile on his face. "Kyra, I am your dick brother." Kyra's eyes flashed to the fraternity ring on Jackson's finger, then glassed over for a few seconds before looking down at the floor, head bowed. She did not say a word. He grasped one of her breasts through her thin shirt, making her gasp. Then he pulled her head up and kissed her. She responded to the kiss by melting her body into his. His hands went back to her ass. "I gotta feel my cock inside you, babe! Wanna fuck?" Kyra slowly licked his chin before responding. "Whatever you say, Jackson. My body's all yours, to do as you wish, you know that." She closed her eyes and moaned when he twisted one of her nipples. When she opened her eyes and looked back at him, there was heat in her gaze. "How do you want me?" "Sloppy wet and filthy, babe. Come here." He pulled her towards a dark corner of the living room. "Take off your pants." Kyra struggled to slide her leather pants off, but she did it, while Jackson enjoyed the sight of her long naked legs, having dropped his own pants down. "Panties too. Give them to me. God, you're dripping wet babe. Now sit on my cock. No, away from me. Yeah, just like that. Oh yeah! Fuck!" * * * On the television screen, the male protagonist had just woken up from an all-night sex romp with the female protagonist's younger and wilder sister, and for some reason the female protagonist -- a tall and lean brunette with a distinctly kinky side -- was busy doing a striptease for some contrived plot reason. Cindy was quiet, sitting comfortably on Daniel's lap, drinking slowly. He knew that he should be finding an excuse to get away, return home, but inertia had set in, and her weight on him did feel particularly good. Cindy's legs were crossed in from of his eyes, and she was dangling a spike heel from one foot. Cindy noticed Daniel looking at it. "You like?" "Of course," he said noncommittally. "I had this boyfriend in high school who just loved to see me in heels, and wanted me to wear them all the time. He loved to see me strut around with a pair of stilettos. Sometimes he wanted me nude, at other times he wanted me with some lingerie on, like a sheer bra and panties or a translucent short nightie. And there was this very tight corset that he was fond of and that he loved to take me in." There was a wistful tone to her voice. "He was a sicko, but a sweet sweet one." She had a big smile on her face when she leaned towards Daniel and whispered in his ear, "And speaking of sweet, look at them, aren't they the cutest?" "Who?" "Kyra and Jackson. There." She nodded at a corner of the living room. Daniel saw that the couple was indeed sitting in a lounge chair in a darkened corner of the room. Jackson's eyes were closed, and he was leaning back in the chair. Kyra was on his lap, her back to him, straddling his legs. She was undulating slowly back and forth, a subtle wavy motion of the hips. A blanket covered both of them up to their waists. "She's fucking him," whispered Cindy in Daniel's ear, her breath warm on his skin. "Look at him. The bliss on his face. Must feel so good to slide inside her, inside her tight little tunnel. Look at her, look at the way she moves, back and forth, back and forth, in and out, in and out. Must feel fantastic. "I wonder which hole he's in. She's got an incredible behind, doesn't she? Always with those tight pants on, just shouting 'look at my ass -- it's round and hard and so tight it'll make you pop in a second.' Jackson's got to bugger her every chance he gets." Cindy giggled, leaning into Daniel. "I love that word! Bugger! Like you got a bug up your butt!" She tried to stifle her laughter, doing poor work of it. "Cin, you're drunk." "Yeah, you told me already. Besides, I like being drunk!" "Come on, let me get you home." Cindy ignored him, and leaned forward to look past him, her hand on his shoulder. "Oh look! He's grabbing her boobs!" Jackson had indeed slipped his hands underneath Kyra's shirt, and he was now kneading her breasts, the movement of his hands unmistakable under the thin material. Kyra's stomach was exposed, his action having lifted her shirt up, and the taut skin could easily be seen to be damp in the glow of the television screen. Kyra, clearly enjoying the stimulation, tossed her head back against Jackson, mouth open, and her movements become more jerky. She put her arms down to help pumping up and down on his lap, and Jackson used his grip on her chest to drive her down on her every thrust. "Just look at her go, up, down, up, down, up, down, like a machine," continued Cindy, her breath short. "She's gonna make him come in no time, pumping up and down on him like that, probably squeezing him hard every time he goes all the way in. And look at her -- she's getting pounded to orgasm. Look at her! Her mouth wide open like that, I bet anyone could just walk up to her and push her head down and stick their dick in her mouth and she'd suck it, the little whore!" She leaned over to whisper in his ear once more. "Too bad she doesn't have my hair -- long hair's the best to let a guy grab a handful and guide your head, if you know what I mean." She laughed again, her forehead pressed against his cheek. When she caught her breath, she continued. "You know I heard she gives great head, too. She's got this agile little tongue, a tight throat, a real educated mouth. Look at her, Dan -- doesn't she look like she needs a dick in her mouth, with a man shoving it in and out while holding her head down, using her as a cum sleeve? She needs a man pounding her face hard, the lucky whore, and getting cum all over her, all over those perky tits of hers! Ah! Look at him! There he goes! He's coming, coming inside his little whore!" And indeed, Jackson's face was clenched, and he pulled Kyra hard against him, the muscles in his arms tightening under the strain, and her mouth opened even wider and she shivered noticeably, before collapsing back against her boyfriend. Daniel felt Cindy's warm breath on his neck. "That made me so incredibly horny!" She pressed her legs together, shifting her weight on his lap and sending delightful feelings up Daniel's cock. "And I can feel she's made you all hard too, didn't she? She's such a naughty girl." She pressed her ass down on his cock, and Daniel had to close his eyes. "Cin..." "Aren't you going to kiss me now?" Slowly, he leaned over, almost against his will, and his lips flirted with hers, and then her lips parted and he ran his tongue over them and before too long he was kissing her softly, pulling up her small body against his, and he could feel her against him, her chest pressing into his, her legs pressing into his own. She tasted fresh, something herbal, subtler than mint, and her tongue playfully chased after his. It felt like coming home. He took her head in one hand, and kissed her harder, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, demanding. She responded, equally hungry, pressing against him. After a while she pulled away, a grin on her face. He was getting turned on, he realized, and that was not right. He was not ready for that. He mumbled something vague, some apology, muttering about a restroom, and Cindy dutifully let him go. Daniel left the living room, bathed in the glow of the television screen. He needed some space to calm down. The evening was not going the way he thought it would go. Cindy had always flirted with him, and she did indeed have a reputation as a flirt, albeit a nice one, but tonight she was driving it up one large notch. And his own feelings on the matter where muddled at best. On the one hand, he was admittedly attracted to the spunky blonde -- she was sweet, caring, funny, and her body was... well... she was nice. But he could not shake this feeling of guilt. What about Jenn? He knew she would come back to him, from wherever she was. She had to. Otherwise, what was he? Perhaps Jackson was right, perhaps he did need a distraction. Cindy was a friend, and she cared about him, and she would not expect anything from him, and she would understand that he wanted to take things slow. He ran into Jackson while looking for the restroom. The young man slapped him on the back. "You gonna get lucky tonight, man! I can promise you!" "You're drunk, Jackson," replied Daniel, feeling like a broken record, and holding up his friend to keep him from collapsing down on the ground. "Of course I'm drunk. Why does everyone have to keep pointing out the obvious? Do I look senile? Doesn't change the fact -- you gonna get lucky tonight. Lucky fucker!" He laughed on his way to the kitchen, wrapping his arm around a random partygoer. Daniel watched him go, shaking his head. He resumed his quest for a restroom, and finally found a free one in an isolated corner of the apartment suite. It was surprisingly large and clean. He took a deep breath, looked at himself in the mirror for a long time. He splashed his face with cold water. It helped a little. He was definitely tipsy, and it was making him vulnerable. He had to laugh at his situation. Here he was, at a decent party, having spent the last forty-five minutes with a beautiful girl on his lap that he was sure would have been more than ready to make out with him had he even hinted at it, without having really worked for it, living the dream of college students everywhere, and he was fighting himself to keep from giving in. That was messed up. He needed to leave, get back home, get his bearings back. And then a pair of hands slipped over his eyes, and a body pressed against his back. "Guess who?" a voice whispered in his ear. "Come on, Cindy, cut it out. I think I should go home." "Guess again," the voice responded. It was definitely not Cindy. He turned around, and Kyra kissed him on the lips, lingering, a soft kiss that promised wonders. Taken by surprise, Daniel took two seconds before pulling his head back. "Kyra, what are you doing?" "What does it look like I'm doing? If you don't recognize this anymore, it's high time someone took care of you." "Kyra -- fuck! No. Jackson. What about Jackson?" Kyra smiled, put a finger across his lips. "Who do you think sent me, silly? Jackson said you needed cheering up, needed to release some tension, needed to get lucky a bit." She pressed a hand against his crotch. "I think he likes me." She pecked him on the lips again, her tongue licking from one corner of his mouth the other. With a deft hand, she unfastened his belt and pants. "Jackson told me to find you and blow you. His exact words were 'Find Daniel and give him your best sloppiest blow job, and make him come so hard he passes out from the drop of pressure.'" She pressed back against him, having fished his cock out of his pants, and she started gently caressing it. She whispered in his ear. "I should tell you that I love being told what to do, it makes me so hot, and I'm very -- very! -- obedient. So I am going to suck you like you've never been sucked off before." Her hand, small and soft, felt wonderful, sliding up and down, barely squeezing, just caressing the skin, pressing with her fingers on the way down, and her palm on the way up, slowly, agonizingly slowly. Images of her giving head at the NADA party the previous semester came unbidden to his mind's eye. "You have a nice hard cock there. It should fill my throat quite nicely. So tell me, do you want me to do all the work, or do you want to fuck my mouth? It's all up to you. I'll do it however you want me to, like a good little obedient cocksucker." She looked at him from under her lashes. "Please, sir, please let me be your little cocksucking servant. I'll be good..." "Kyra..." She slowly dropped to her knees, her face level with his hard shaft. "Tell you what, sir," she said, sliding her hand up and down on his cock a few times, "how about I just start, and whenever you want to take over, you just grab my head and start fucking?" "Kyra... Oh!" She had slipped her lips over his cock, and slid the hard shaft deep into her mouth. It felt warm, wet, tight, and Kyra gagged slightly when the head of his cock hit the back of her throat, but she did not let up, and pushed further, the cock sliding inside almost effortlessly. Her nose smashed into his abdomen, she held the position for several seconds, swallowing repeatedly, sending incredible sensations down his cock. She pulled out, letting his cock slip out of her mouth, and caught her breath. His shaft was shiny with her saliva, and there was a thick strand connecting the tip to her lips. She looked up at him, a small smile on her face. "That felt so good, sir. May I have more? Please?" Daniel should have stopped her, a too small voice in his head was whining, it wasn't right. But part of him wanted -- no, craved -- release, and it was drowning the voice out. The alcohol definitely was affecting him, and his body was now in control. Without waiting for his answer, Kyra plunged back onto his cock, and once more took her fully into her mouth, but this time she bobbed her head up and down, sucking hard, and her ministrations had their intended effect. Daniel leaned back against the counter, and gave up. Sensing that he was not resisting any longer, Kyra went all out. In and out drove his cock, and she made it as messy and noisy as she could -- loud slurping and sucking sounds came from her half-open mouth, and drool dripped copiously down her chin when it was not flying about out of her mouth. The front of her shirt was getting drenched, but she did not seem to mind, focusing on pleasuring the cock before her to the best of her undeniable abilities. She let his cock slip out of her mouth again, breathing hard, and she sank lower to tongue his balls, sucking one then the other in her mouth. The position forced her into an arch, which exposed her lower back. Her leather pants were cut low enough to reveal that she was naked underneath. She saw him looking, and smiled, swaying her ass left and right slowly while jacking his cock harder, and then she sank even lower and ran her tongue on the strip of skin between his balls and his anus. It felt wonderful, at the same time soothing and arousing. She emerged to look at him slyly, her head bowed down. "Am I sloppy enough for you, sir? Would you like more drool? Would you like more gagging? I can do it any way you want, sir." Daniel looked at the top of her head, at her short red hair, not trusting himself to speak. What could he say, anyways? Kyra's took his silence in stride, entirely nonplussed, and she dove on his cock again with a vengeance, bobbing her head up and down and sucking with more force than before. Slurping sounds filled the restoom, smacking wetly when his cock head pushed through then emerged from her throat. Her tongue danced across the underside of his cock on every thrust. Her hands were on his ass, pulling him deeper into her time and time again. And then his hips started to jerk and he knew that he was about to come, and he could tell Kyra knew as well. After a deep hard suck he thrust his hips out and he had to clamp down on his tongue not to shout as liquid fire shot up from his loins. The first spurt of semen went directly into Kyra's throat. She pulled his cock out in time for the second and third spurts to land across her forehead and across the bridge of her nose. She wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock to receive the rest of his load on her tongue. She swallowed with enthusiasm, her hand milking his cock for everything he had. She did not take his cock in her mouth, just kept her lips glued to the tip. When he was done, he collapsed against the counter, while Kyra dutifully licked his cock clean. She then slowly stood up, wiping off the cum that had landed on her face and that which had leaked from her lips with her fingers. "Mmmmm. Thank you, sir, for using my mouth. I trust you found it... satisfactory." She sucked her fingers clean, slowly. Then, with a slight wave, she left the restroom, while Daniel could do nothing but watch her go, her ass swaying enticingly the whole way. What had he done? * * * Later that evening, long after Daniel had checked up on Cindy to make sure she was okay and to tell her that he was leaving because he was not feeling well, Cindy cornered an inebriated Jackson. "What the hell did you do?" "Whaaat?" "Look at me, Jackson. What the hell did you do to Daniel?" "What are you talking about?" "He left in a hurry. Frazzled. Apologetic. He was mumbling something about you and Kyra, wouldn't look me in the eyes. So I repeat -- what the hell did you do?" "Nothing. Just made his night, that's all, since you weren't about to do it." "Jackson, what the hell did you do?" she shouted, drawing stupefied looks from the drunken students are them. "Fuck! Relax! I just asked Kyra to give him some head, okay? The poor guy looked -- what's the word, forewarned? for one? Anyways, yeah, I got her to blow him." Cindy's mouth opened a few times, without any word coming out. Finally, "You're a fucking idiot sometimes, Jackson! I told you -- I told you I'd take care of Daniel, didn't I? And you had to go and put your big foot in it. You're -- you're such a guy, Jackson!" "Come on, it's not that bad. He had a great time, I bet. And you're just jealous." "Jealous? That's what you think this is about? Jealous?" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, clearing away the remaining cobwebs of the drinks she had ingested earlier in the evening. "I hope you're going to remember this in the morning, Jackson. Look, I never asked what you guys did to us, me, Kyra, Serena, what kind of mojo you worked on us. As I said, I don't mind, I enjoyed it. And Kyra and Serena seem happy, so who am I to judge? But Daniel's judging. And he knows something is up. And he's looking, because of Jenn. Because I'm pretty sure that whatever happened to Jenn is related. And by pimping your little girlfriend to him tonight, you just proved to him that you have a hand in what's going on. My guess is that he's feeling too guilty right now to think about it, but I guarantee you he's going to, eventually, and he'll ask questions. And if he asks, Jackson, I won't lie to him, you got that? So my advice to you is to man up, and talk to him, and tell him what you know, sooner rather than later." Jackson looked back at her, but the lack of focus in his eyes did not give any indication that he had understood anything. Cindy debated arguing her point further, but then simply sighed and left the party.