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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to o
o be typed therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Reorientation (FFM)
by Anonymous Author \1994/
***
My new job was pretty good -- better pay, better opportunities for
promotion, more responsibility -- but the commute back and forth was
getting tedious. Lots of people would say that the 35 minutes each
way wasn't bad, but I was used to the five-minute commute I was used
to. I'd started listening to the radio more intently than had been my
custom, partly for the traffic reports but mostly to avoid boredom. I
had tried listening to books on cassette tape, tried to think about
work and keep notes about decisions and ideas, tried singing along
with the radio. Everything helped, but nothing made a real difference.
The commute was just plain boring.
One portion of the commute was along an old highway, one lane in each
direction. Sometimes this would be the worst part of the commute:
trucks going 40 miles per hour along the twisty, hilly road could be
very difficult to pass. Sometimes this would be the least tedious part
of the commute: no vehicles in sight for the entire 20 miles.
Sometimes, of course, it was somewhere in-between.
I was recently married and I enjoyed my new, more respectable and more
stable life pretty well. However, my wife had a fixation about my
prior single life, and seemed sure that I was feeling stifled by the
limitation on my sexual desires. Admittedly, I had a somewhat more
active and varied sex-life before marriage, but I was mostly content
and wasn't out looking for anything extra. I'd have an occasional
fantasy, sometimes while driving and sometimes in more intimate
circumstances, but they seemed harmless enough. Besides, everyone
fantasizes sometimes.
Jan, my wife, didn't even like it if I masturbated. She regarded it as
a sign of disinterest in her. I'd tried to explain that it was
sometimes just for the relief of tension, and sometimes just because
it felt different and provided a bit of variety, but she was not
pleased. We had agreed that I wouldn't masturbate anymore. Sometimes I
resented that -- like driving along the highway when she'd been out of
town for a week already.
So, that one day a couple of years ago, I was driving along that
twisty, hilly stretch of highway, and Jan had been out of town for
almost a full week. I would have liked to have unzipped and taken care
of my near-unbearable sexual tension, there having been no traffic
visible since I left the last town a couple of minutes behind. I
started to fantasize about having Jan there in the car with me, so
that she could tell me it was okay to masturbate while I drove -- or
better yet, maybe she'd do it for me! Or maybe even better, although
she seemed to dislike oral sex...
I was jerked back to reality by the realization that an incredibly
gorgeous, sexy young woman was stranded by the side of the road, her
bicycle wheel mangled by an apparent run-in with a pot-hole on the
shoulder.
Thoughts warred with each other in my mind: this could be a set-up to
steal my car and/or money; this could be an opportunity too good to
pass up.
"Idiot!" I laughed at myself. "She just needs a ride somewhere to get
her bike fixed!" I jammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side of
the road. As I hopped out of the car, just a few feet past the bike on
the shoulder of the highway, she walked towards me.
"Hi!" she said. "I'm in a bit of a hurry and I've bent the wheel on my
bike. Do you think you could give me a ride into town?"
"Sure!" I said, trying to sound friendly, and looking her over. She
was short, blonde, blue-eyed, just busty enough to fill a shirt but
not so much as to look counter-balanced, and darn near perfect. She
was wearing tight shorts and a loose tee-shirt that said something I
don't remember. Her bare legs were trim and enticing; her nose small
and upturned; her shape exquisite. Damn if she didn't look like
something right out of Playboy, with me selecting the models!
"Uh," I said, realizing the pause in the conversation might have gone
on just a bit too long. "Should we put your bike in the trunk, or drag
it off into the trees, or what?"
"Oh, would it fit in the trunk?" she asked, looking at the bike and
than at the car.
"Well, it might," I said. "Can't hurt to try, unless you'd rather not!"
She laughed and said, "It might be a bit of a tight fit, but sure,
we'll give it a try!" I opened the trunk, walked to where it lay
sprawled on the pavement, and lifted the bicycle. The bending over and
straightening up again caused me to become aware that I had a pretty
major erection, still, trapped in m but after
several minutes of contortions and rethinking, I managed to slide it
all the way in. By this time, my erection had subsided almost to
bearable levels.
"Whew!" I said. "A tighter fit than I thought!"
She took one step closer and looked up at me. "Yes," she said, then
looking down at the bulge in my pants where my erection was eagerly
returning. "That does look like a tight fit!" She looked back up again
and smiled.
Blushing, I'm sure, I said, "Uh, well, yes." Short pause. "Well, I
guess we'd better get going!" With a lingering glance, she walked
around to the passenger side of my car, but the door was locked.
"Oh, sorry!" I said. I jumped in and hit the power locks button. She
climbed in, fastened her seat belt, and off we went.
"So, what's your name?" I asked conversationally.
"Susan," she said. "And yours?"
"Bob," I answered, and smiled. "Where do you need to go in town?"
She paused a few moments. "Well," she started, sounding a little
unsure. "I need a place to stay for a few days while I look for a
job."
Yow! I thought. Better stay away from *that* topic!
"Well, let's see," I began. "There's a Holiday Inn and one little
motel out on the outskirts of town..."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I don't really have any money, so I had
pretty much planned on staying with someone." She paused for a moment.
"You see, I usually don't have any trouble finding someone who'd like
to have me stay with them, looking as I do."
I looked across at her and realized she was watching me with a sort of
half-eager look.
"Well," I said. "Uh..."
I thought about it a little bit, and decided on the safest of several
possible responses.
"I could put you up a night or two at the Holiday Inn, while you look
for work, if you'd like."
Now it was her turn to sound uncertain. "Well, I don't know. How could
I pay you back if I don't find a job?"
"It'd be enough for me to know that I'd helped you out. Honestly, I
already feel that I owe you something for the privilege of being able
to look at you every once in a while!" Short pause. "You really are
beautiful."
"But that doesn't make any sense. You could buy a magazine full of
pictures you could look at anytime you want for a lot less than it
would cost to have me stay even one night in a hotel."
"Okay, so I'm exaggerating a little bit. But honestly, I don't mind.
How many nights would you want to stay there?"
"Oh, two or three nights would be enough, I think. If I don't find
work, I can always get my bike fixed and move on until I do." She
turned and looked out the window, and I let her be.
The drive into town was occupied by pleasant thoughts of Susan -- how
she'd look without clothes, how she would feel to my cock if I entered
her, how she would suck me and lick me -- and thus seemed to pass
quite quickly. All idle, innocent fantasy, I rationalized. I was
married; I was not going to get involved with this very young, very
helpless, very sexy woman. Even if she was interested, and I assumed
she wasn't.
I pulled into the parking lot at the Holiday Inn and stopped the car.
"I'll be right back!" I said, and hopped out.
"Oh, I should come with you!" she said and ran to catch up with me.
I walked straight to the check-in desk before I realized that this
situation would look pretty odd to the manager. Best to be boldly
honest about it, I decided.
"Good afternoon!" I said as the manager hung up the phone and smiled
at me. "Susan, here, needs a room for a couple of days while she
looks for work and she doesn't have a credit card, or a lot of cash
for a deposit, so I agreed to let her guarantee her room for ... let's
say five nights, on my card." I handed him my gold American Express.rly did *not* want to give her my home phone
number.
Susan took the card and contemplated it for a moment. The manager
returned with a key and a charge slip. "Please sign here," he said. I
signed, took the key, thanked him, and led Susan back to the car. "We
should get your bike out and lock it up somewhere."
"Oh, forget the bike!" she said. "I don't have a lock anyway. I want
to see my room!" Suddenly she looked really excited. I remembered what
it had been like the first time I stayed in a hotel as an adult, how
independent and sophisticated I felt. I assumed that she was feeling
the same sort of thing. We walked towards the rooms, instead.
But at the same time, my erotic fantasies returned, even stronger. I
pushed those thoughts away. Again.
Room 154 was a standard room, one queen-size bed, a television, a
small bathroom, and nothing much else. She rushed inside and threw her
purse onto the bed and flopped down on it, bouncing slightly. For the
first time I noticed that her just-right-sized breasts bounced
enticingly beneath her loose shirt. "No bra," I thought, and shoved
that thought aside roughly, too.
"Do you need anything else, then?" I asked, suddenly almost eager to
get away from my dilemma. I'd already decided to take her bike home
tonight and return it tomorrow, if she didn't say anything. Jan would
be out of town until tomorrow night, so she wouldn't notice the bike.
She wouldn't look in the trunk of my car, for that matter. Why was I
hiding this? Just feeling guilty about my erotic fantasies, I assumed.
"Well, maybe," she said, biting her lip. "But I hate to ask you for
anything else."
"What is it?" I asked, quietly aroused and frightened at the same
time.
"Well, I don't have any money," she said. "And I don't know where to
go in this town to get some food...you know, without having to pay
money for it."
Secretly relieved and frustrated, too, I pulled out my wallet again
and fished out a $20 bill. "This is about all the cash I have," I
said. "Do you think this will last you until tomorrow?"
"Oh, sure!" she said, but not reaching for it. "It's just that, well,
I don't feel right taking more of your money without doing anything
back."
"It's okay, really," I said. Again the dilemma was pressing on me, and
I felt that I should be leaving. But I was standing there holding
money out towards her, and she was sitting there staring back, and
walking away now would look strange, and impolite, too.
Finally, Susan said, "Well, okay." She took the money. "Here's how I'm
going to thank you, even if you don't want it!" She put her arms
around my neck, closed her eyes, and kissed me.
All my happy fantasies came rushing back to me in a moment, with
afterburners on. The feel of her breasts through my shirt, the shape
of her in my hands, the sweet scent of her hair and slightly sweaty
body, all these turned my brain off and my passion on. Her tongue
pressed against my lips and, moments later, our tongues were happily
engaged. My hands roamed over her back, and my erection was back,
painfully trapped in my underwear.
Her hands sought out the back of my shirt and pulled it free from my
pants, then unbuttoned all the buttons. She began caressing my chest and
stomach. My hands, without conscious volition, were reaching up inside
her shirt and feeling those near-perfect breasts. The nipples were as
hard as my erection, and her little moans suddenly came to my
attention.
With a start, I pulled my mouth back from hers and started to pull my
hands away. "I'm sorry," I said. "I really can't."
Tears filled her eyes. "Bob," she said. "You're the first man I've
been with for so long who hasn't tried to trade favors for sex. I so
much wanted to thank you that way, because you really are sweet and I
know you want me."
Nearly gasping for breath, I said, "But I really can't. I'm married" --
sounded pretty lame, though -- "and, well, I just can't."
I again started to pull my hands away, but she squeezed me tightly and
sniffled once against my shirt. "Oh, Bob, please. Please let me thank
youwon't be quite so hungry!"
"No, really, I can't," I said again, but she went on unbuckling, and
then proceeded to pull my pants down to my knees. I reached as if to
pull them back up, but she was already carefully pulling my underwear
down, trying not to hurt my throbbing penis. I briefly noticed quite a
damp spot soaked into the fabric and felt mildly embarrassed. She gave
the glistening wet head a quick lick as the erection reached
full-force, and then took me into her mouth.
"Oh, god," I said, not sure whether in pleasure or confusion or fear.
"Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god."
As quickly as that, perhaps thirty seconds of her quick, skillful sucking,
and a couple of eager thrusts of my hips, and I came, shudderingly. She
kept up her sucking, eagerly swallowing, one of her hands fondling my
balls gently. "Oh, god," I said again, my knees suddenly collapsing, and
I fell back onto the bed.
"Oh, Bob," Susan said. "You were wonderful, and you taste good, too!"
"Uh, thanks," I said, trying to slow my rapid breathing. I almost couldn't
believe it had happened. I started feebly pulling my underwear back up,
feeling that perhaps I could get away now and think the whole situation over
under less pressure.
"Wait, Bob," she said. "Let me get a towel and wipe you up first."
She rushed into the bathroom and came back with a towel and very, very
gently wiped up the saliva and semen. Then she bent over to kiss me again,
and I kissed her back eagerly. I had never before tasted my own semen, and
found the taste odd. I certainly didn't think I tasted "good," as she
claimed, but not bad either.
"Thank you," I said. "But I really do have to get going."
"Oh, of course," she said, and grinned mischeviously. "Just one more thing,"
she added.
"Uh, okay, what's that?" I asked, sighing, and pulling first my
underwear back up, the damp spot now quite chilled, and then my pants.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a shiny stainless steel
revolver and pointed it right at my face.
"I want your wallet, and then you're going to take me to your house for
a few other things."
Chapter 2
I was quite confused, and frightened. I don't remember what I said or
what Susan said, but shortly we were pulling into the driveway of my
house. I was just beginning to come out of the shock of having this
beautiful young woman, who had given me such intense, quick pleasure,
turn out to be a thief. The thought suddenly came to me, though, that
once we were in the house, there was every chance that she'd get what
she wanted and kill me. Living on a dozen acres right outside of town
doesn't give one a lot of neighbors, and most of them were too far
away to hear a gunshot inside our house.
"You know, my wife might be home by now," I lied, thinking that she
might be wary of going inside if she knew that.
"Oh, Bob," she replied. "You're not going to start lying to me now,
are you? If you thought your wife was going to be home, you would
have said so long ago, or said nothing and hoped to trap me."
"Well, what do you want?" I asked, starting to get angry.
"Let's get inside the house first," she responded, suddenly moving
quickly to get outside of the car, but still covering me with the
revolver. Damn! This would be a good time for the Sheriff to show up.
He was always pretty quick to snoop around when Jan wanted to sunbathe
nude, or when we got a little passionate outdoors. Now he was nowhere
in sight. Damn!
The thought suddenly struck me that perhaps I should gun the car now
and try to get away, leaving her stranded. Two things prevented me:
I'd have to explain to Jan how she got there in the first place, and
why her bicycle was in the trunk of the car. Three things: she mighte. I opened the
door, my hands shaking badly.
"I've never had to kill anyone yet, Bob," she said. "Especially not
anyone who tastes as good as you do!"
"Yeah, right," I said. She gestured me inside the house and away from
the door, then she entered and closed the door behind her, still not
looking away from me, her aim unwavering.
"Down to the basement," she said, gesturing. I went towards the
basement door, then stopped.
"Why the basement?" I asked.
"Shut up," she said, gesturing with the revolver. I shrugged and
started walking again.
I opened the basement door and noticed idly that the lights were all
on. Well, maybe I forgot to turn them off last time I was down here, I
thought. She gestured me down the stairs.
Suddenly I knew something odd was going on; the basement had been
completely rearranged, and some new stuff was lying around. Among
other things, a mattress was lying in the middle of the floor, and
someone had painted a red arc on the floor.
"What the hell is going on here?" I asked. Susan was still at the top
of the stairs, the door closed behind her.
"Well, Bob, I came home a little early." Jan's voice! I turned to look
towards where she was, but I couldn't see anything in the dark corner.
Maybe there was a gang of thieves, and they'd caught her, too! "What
I'm about to do, Bob, is as much for your good as mine. I'm doing it
for us."
She stepped forward, stripped nude and also holding a revolver. "Take
off your clothes and lie down on that mattress," she ordered.
"What for? Jan, I..."
"Shut up!" She cut me off. "Just strip and lie down and keep quiet for
a while." She gestured with the gun; I slowly removed my clothing,
then went and lay down.
"On your stomach," she said. I considered refusing, but something
really strange was going on, and I wasn't thinking well. I turned
over.
I heard Susan come down the steps and walk over to Jan, then come
towards me. The moment I thought she was within reach, I whirled over
onto my back and grabbed for her hands, where I expected to find the
gun. No chance; she'd given it to Jan. I felt like an idiot, holding
Susan's wrists in my hands for no good reason. She didn't even
struggle.
"Oh, Bob," Jan said. "Lie back down. Don't make this difficult." Her
gun was pointed right at my face. I complied, fuming inside. Susan
handcuffed my hands behind my back, then my ankles together. The cuffs
were cold, hard metal; they felt substantial. Not toys, anyway, so
I doubted I'd be going anywhere. Then, almost as an afterthought,
Susan chained the ankle cuffs to the handcuffs, leaving me nearly
helpless.
"That's better," Jan said. "I'll leave you here to think over your
transgression for a few minutes." Jan and Susan left, taking my clothes.
Jan returned alone a few minutes later, without the gun but with something
else in her hands.
"I've had a little talk with Susan, Bob, and I must say you did quite
well. I didn't expect you to resist her nearly as much as you did.
Nevertheless, you did give in eventually, as I expected you would."
"Entrapment, eh?" I said. "You set me up."
"Oh, not really. Some opportunity would have come your way eventually;
I just made sure it was under controlled circumstances. I've been to a
class, Bob; I wasn't really on business. The 'Women For Monogamy' give
these classes every once in a while, and then the women who take them
cooperate to handle any men who don't live up to our monogamous ideal.
As you don't. But you soon will."
She came closer, but I was helplessly lying on my side, and she
approached from my back. "Don't flinch, Bob," she said. "I'm putting
something on your neck." A band of leather-like material went around
my neck, with a cold, hard point centered over my spine.
"What this is, Bob, is a conditioning aid, called a stimulator. Itoining in. I was in ecstasy.
"--or anything in between."
She switched it off, whatever it was. I rolled onto my back and looked
at her, and noticed a little remote-control sort of gadget in her
hands. The sight of her nude body was, under the circumstances,
incongruously enticing, and I began to feel the onset of an erection.
Her breasts, while smaller than Susan's, look extraordinarily nice,
and her somewhat taller form gives her a slender appearance that I've
always admired. Her medium-brown hair was nicely fluffed up, just the
way I like it best.
"Oh, good, Bob!" she said. "The sight of me pleases you, I see." And
suddenly the pleasure was back, but turned way down from before. She
bent over and fondled my stiffening penis with her free hand, and the
erection grew swiftly, and with her other hand she increased the
pleasure. Suddenly, she stopped her fondling, and reduced the pleasure
to a very low level.
"So, that's the positive half of your reorientation; I'm going to make
you very, very happy with the sight, smell, feel, sound, and taste of me.
The other half of your conditioning won't be quite as pleasant, but it
is equally important."
Susan opened the basement door and came down the steps, equally as
nude as Jan. As she stepped into the light at the bottom of the
stairs, I noticed that her breasts were as nice to look at as I had
imagined; her shorter form had a curvier shape than Jan's; and her
legs were startlingly enticing even after having seen them before. The
little puff of blond pubic hair...
"You will never again have an erection at the sight of another woman!"
Jan said, and suddenly the pain was back, slight but growing stronger
and stronger until my erection was gone, and then it stopped abruptly.
I whimpered, or something. "Please understand, Bob, that I really am
doing this for both of us. You'll see. Lots of men have been
reoriented by the Women For Monogamy, and even they admit they're
happier now."
"Yeah, sure," I said, feeling helpless, embarrassed, and ... well,
humiliated. I had always fantasized that being trussed up in the
basement with two nude women could be a lot of fun; by then I was
beginning to wonder.
Susan came over and sat down beside me. "I am sorry, Bob, that parts
of this will be quite unpleasant," she said. "But you'll see; in the
long run, you and Jan will both be happier."
"What's your part in this?" I asked. "How did Jan get you to go along
with this?"
"Oh, that's easy," she said. "The Women For Monogamy helped me reorient
my husband a year or so ago. Part of the deal is that now I help someone
else reorient hers." She smiled. "Ted helped us set things up earlier
today, so maybe you really will believe that you'll be happier when we're
done. In six months or a year, you'll fly away somewhere to help Jan
help someone reorient her husband, and you'll agree that it's the right
thing to do." She smiled, and began to fondle my balls. "You'll see!"
"Jan knows what physical characteristics you seem to lust after," she
continued, "and gave the list to the WFM, and I was the closest match
of those available." She squeezed my balls, just the right way. "I
must come pretty close, the way you react to me!"
My erection came up again, and Jan handed Susan another little gadget.
It was an elastic band that went around my penis with a wire that went
between my legs and up my back and connected to the stimulator on my
neck. As my erection grew, the pain returned and strengthened. When
Susan stopped feeling my balls, my erection subsided somewhat and the
pain diminished, as well.
"As you probably noticed, this sensor detects the strength of your
erection and produces either pain or pleasure for you, depenat seems
pretty good, Jan," Susan said. "Turn over on your stomach
again, Bob," she said. I thought about refusing, then did so, and she
released the chain and the ankle- and handcuffs. I sat up and started
to reach for the sensor on my penis.
"Oh, don't do that!" Jan said. I started to remove it, and the pain
returned instantly at maximum power. I couldn't sit up, I flopped over
onto my side, convulsing with the pain.
"Geez, Bob," Susan said, fumbling for the elastic band and placing it
back where it had been. The pain disappeared instantly again. "Don't
try to take the sensor off, or the stimulator on your neck, either.
Don't try to pull the wires off, or anything, either. They're set up
to make that quite impossible."
Before I even thought of it, Jan said, "And don't try to leave the
basement, or go outside of the red semicircle, either." She smiled,
but sadly. "The stimulator turns on maximum pain if you go more than
25 feet from the transmitter, which we placed outside in the bushes.
Or if there's a power failure," she added. "You'd better hope there
isn't one."
I looked at Susan, and at Jan, and got outraged. I yelled, I
threatened. I swore and started to stand up again. I don't know if I
was going to get violent, or cry, or what.
"Bob," Jan said. "Lie back down on the mattress."
"I'll be damned if I will!" I yelled back, still not over being mad.
The pain hit me, medium strength, and started to grow. "Bob," Jan
repeated. "Get back on the mattress!"
I did so. Don't think I'm a wimp; that pain, even medium-strength,
was more than I could handle. If you get reoriented, you'll think so,
too.
As soon as I was down, the pain ended. Susan stepped over me, then
straddled me, and started to stroke my penis into erection again.
"I want you to put it in her, Bob," Jan said. And suddenly, as the
erection grew, so did the pleasure. Up came my penis, and Susan guided
me into her shiny wet vagina, surrounded so enticingly with that puff
of golden hair. Up and down she went, and I went with her.
"But Bob, you know you're not supposed to do that with other women,"
Jan said, and suddenly the pleasure turned to pain.
"Yaaagh!" I yelled, and pushed Susan away, kind of roughly. As my
erection went down, the pain diminished. I whimpered, I rolled onto
my side and curled into a ball.
Jan came over and began to stroke my back, and my buttocks. "Bob,"
she said quietly. "I want you to do me now."
"No way, bitch," I said, nearly crying. "No way!"
She tossed the remote control to Susan, and she activated the pleasure,
low strength. "Please, Bob," Jan whispered.
Despite myself, my erection was growing, and the pleasure was growing
with it. Jan pulled me over onto my back, fondled my balls until my
erection was nearly full strength, with the stimulator pleasure quite
strong, and then she began to suck me. The pleasure grew, both the
natural and the artificial. I couldn't help myself; I thrust, I moaned,
I grabbed her and groaned something incoherent.
She stopped sucking for a moment and placed her crotch near my face.
"Eat me, too, Bob," she demanded. She could have told me to kill myself,
I thought, and I'd have done it if the stimulator pleasure would go
just a little higher. I sucked, and licked, and pressed my tongue into
her, and she went on doing me.
"Oh, oh, oh..." I started to say as I felt myself about to come.
"Oh, not yet, Bob," Jan said, and the pain returned, just for a
moment.
So I licked and sucked and she did the same for me, each time my
ejaculation neared, there was a flash of pain to remind me not to come
until Jan wanted me to.
Suddenly, Jan stood, turned around, and lay down on the mattress
beside me. "When I squeeze your buns, real hard, then you can come."
She pulled me on top of her, and fondled my back while I fumbled to
get my penis in her. As soon as I was in, I felt intensifying pleasure
-- natural or artificial, I couldn't tell -- and I started thrusting
and thrusting. Jan gave little moans and sighs as we kissed deeply;
again, little flashes of pain kept me from coming until, finally,
Jan's hands roamed down my bpeaked suddenly (the
artificial pleasure, I knew) just milliseconds before my own (natural)
pleasure peaked, too, and Jan and I were locked together, thrusting
and thrusting against each other, tongues pushing hard against each
other, grunts and moans and stifled yells coming from each of us. I
felt as if I would never stop coming, and thought for sure I must have
produced a pint or more of semen.
Finally, I felt my muscles relaxing, and the pleasure dwindling. Jan
stayed a few moments, cuddling and kissing, as my realization grew
that I'd been operated almost like a robot for her pleasure. But I
kept remembering that my pleasure was the most intense I'd ever known,
too. She rolled me off of her, fondled my rapidly diminishing penis,
stroked my balls, and stood up.
"You might like to read a few things," she said, pointing at a stack
of papers just inside the red arc. "I'll be back in a while."
She and Susan gave me quick smiles and went up the stairs together,
their different but similarly attractive buns bouncing enticingly as
they stepped. Already I was afraid this was going to work -- I found
myself reluctant to look at Susan.
Chapter 3
As soon as the basement door closed, I got up. There was a stack of
towels thoughtfully placed near the mattress, so I grabbed one and
wiped myself off. Anger began to boil up inside me; I was determined
to escape before I really was conditioned. I wondered what they could
do to Jan for doing this to me; I was uncomfortably aware that I had
once asked her if she would like to hold me prisoner in the basement
and use me as she would for a weekend; perhaps even if I escaped and
managed to make someone believe that I was telling the truth, they'd
still say I had nothing to complain about; I'd asked for it.
Still, there had to be a law against conditioning people. Right?
So I got up and walked over to the red arc. I suspected that it was
the stimulator on my neck that would have to pass over the arc before
the pain would begin, but I decided to be sure. I stuck arms, legs,
head and torso over the line without pain, but the moment the
stimulator was over the line, the pain began. It was merely
excruciating at first, again as if someone were slowly grinding away
at my crotch, but it increased in intensity the longer I held the
stimulator outside the arc. I tried running up the stairs, but I was
forced to run back again before I got more than two or three steps up
towards the door. I was afraid that if I waited any longer, I'd be
convulsed with pain before I could return, and I'd end up writhing on
the floor at maximum pain, unable to return within the red arc, until
Jan decided to take mercy on me.
And the pain was simply too severe for that.
Suffice it to say, I searched everything within reach, and stared at
everything else within the basement, until I was sure there was
nothing at hand to aid my escape.
So then I tried, very cautiously, to remove the elastic band around my
penis, and learned that the gadget was very sensitive to being moved
even a little. Then I tried removing the stimulator from my neck, and
found it equally sensitive. I didn't even dare try to break or cut the
wire, because if they were telling the truth, I wouldn't be able to
repair it, and again there was the pain to make me cautious.
I gave up on that, too. Finally, more out of boredom than anything
else, I picked up the stack of papers and started looking through
them.
Some of it was propaganda from the Women For Monogamy (WFM), detailing
how men can't control their lust and so women must condition them. No
details were given, but they did claim that their 17,000 full members
had all conditioned their spouses or lovers with only 2 failures (the
nature of the faile
I had felt with Jan. Shortly I realized I was beginning to be aroused,
a pretty feeble erection beginning to form, but the moment it began
the pain began, too. Quickly I shoved those erotic thoughts aside and
thought again of escape.
But it was impossible; the intensity of the pleasure forced those
thoughts back to me again and again. The erection kept returning,
feebly, and the pain would jolt me away from those thoughts.
Finally, when the cycle of feeble erection followed by pain followed
by attempts to think about something else was becoming almost
unbearable, and I had again tried to find a way past the red arc,
Susan opened the basement door and came down the stairs, carrying a
tray. She was, as before, quite nude. After all my erotic thoughts the
past hour or two, the erection that came at the sight of her was
automatic and instantaneous; I groaned with pain, and looked away,
thinking furiously of other things that might reduce the erection and
the pain.
"Hi!" she said, quite cheerfully. "Here's your dinner!"
"Dinner?" I said. "You're not even going to let me out of the basement
for dinner!?" I shouted. Perhaps anger would distract me.
"Of course not," she said. "Your reorientation isn't complete. Didn't
you read the stuff Jan told you was there?"
She looked and saw the pile had been rearranged. "Well, here, take the
tray and get started, and I'll pull out a thing or two you should see."
I took the tray -- it was Jan's usual good cooking -- but was reluctant
to eat. Susan pulled out a piece of paper and said, "Here, look at this."
I put the tray down and looked at the paper. It was a letter to my
employer, stating that I had a family emergency out of town, and I'd
need to take a two week leave of absence. It begged forgiveness, and
said I'd call when I could. At the bottom was my signature, which of
course Jan could easily have copied from any number of things. It was
dated that day.
I swore and crumpled up the letter, throwing it into a corner. "You
guys are going to keep me down here for two weeks? Don't I get to
leave at all?"
"Not at all," she said, "until your reconditioning is complete. Sometimes
it takes more than two weeks, but sometimes one week is enough."
"Damn," I said. "Damn!" I sat down and started eating. Trapped though
I was, I was hungry, too.
END