Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Epilogue Dr.  Elizabeth Ferguson worked her way through the stack of
paperwork with a vague feeling of discontent.  This museum job had seemed
like such a great opportunity when she'd accepted it.  Indeed, it was a
great opportunity: the freedom to do her own research, the resources of the
museum at her disposal, even her own office, albeit a closet-sized cubicle
in the museum basement.  On the other hand, there were the tours she had to
guide -- the professional staff were expected to lead a fair fraction of
the school tours -- the endless meetings and debates about new
acquisitions, and the paperwork.  Lord, who would have thought that a
museum could generate so much paperwork?  Only a year out of grad school,
and it would already take an archaeological dig to unearth her desk from
beneath the stacks of paper.

   A knock came on her office door, soft, but still loud enough to make her
lose her place.  Irritably, she tucked a loose strand of dark brown hair
back behind her ear and called out "What is it?"

   The door opened and a young man stuck his head in.  "Dr.  Ferguson?"

   Elizabeth sighed with exasperation and put her pen down.  "Yes.  Can I
help you?"

   The young man stepped inside and closed the door.  Elizabeth revised her
estimate of his age downwards.  He was really only a teenager; probably a
high school student.  Very self-possessed for a student though.  His dark
eyes met hers boldly; his face was framed with black hair, and his
shoulders were broad and sturdy.  Remarkably handsome for a youngster,
Elizabeth thought absently, and with an air of confidence quite beyond his
years.

   "Hello Dr.  Ferguson," the boy said.  "My name is Sam Raven.  The people
upstairs gave me your name."

   "What can I do for you?" Elizabeth asked.  Heaven knew what they had
been thinking about, to send him to her.  Elizabeth had nothing to do with
students, except for guiding the occasional tour.  Still, he seemed a nice
enough guy; she might as well try to help him.

   "I was on a tour that you guided a couple of months ago," Sam said.  He
sat in the chair in front of her desk and crossed his legs, looking very
much at ease.  Elizabeth noticed the muscle that showed through the thin
shirt.  He was surprisingly sexy for a teenager.  It had been quite a while
since Elizabeth had been attracted to anyone; her job took up too much
time. But she had to admit, this student was the most attractive boy -- man
-- she had seen in a long time.

   "You would probably remember it," Sam went on, seemingly unaware of her
reaction to him.  "I collapsed part way through it and had to be rushed to
the hospital."

   "Oh!" Elizabeth said in startlement.  "That was you?"

   "That was me," Sam confirmed.

   "Yes, that was quite a shock.  Never had anything like that happen
before.  How are you?  Are you fully recovered?"

   "I seem to be," Sam said.  "I certainly feel fine."

   "Well, I'm glad to hear it," Elizabeth said.  He certainly looked the
picture of health.  Elizabeth surreptitiously adjusted her blouse; it felt
strangely tight on her, and her nipples were rubbing sensitively against
the fabric.  It was kind of uncomfortable.

   "Just before I collapsed," Sam went on, "you'd shown us a small clay
statue in the pre-Columbian gallery..."

   "Oh, yes, the totem figure," Elizabeth said.  "That's actually my
specialty, you know."

   "Yes, that's what they said downstairs.  Can you tell me about it?"

   "Sure," Elizabeth said.  She leaned back in her chair, trying to get
comfortable.  Her bra felt confining, too, and the chafing of her breasts
was sending distracting little tingles down to her crotch.  She hoped Sam
didn't notice.  "Anyway, it's a totem figure, used by a tribal Shaman to
summon a particular spirit.  When summoned, the spirit would reside inside
the Shaman and grant him supernatural powers."

   "What kind of spirit?  What kind of powers?" Sam asked, leaning forward
intently.  My, he's handsome, Elizabeth thought involuntarily.  I'll bet
the girls at school are all crazy about him.

   "Er, well, there were different kinds of spirits, and different totem
figures were used to summon them.  The placard in the museum claims that
this particular figure is a fertility spirit."

   Sam picked up on her skeptical phrasing.  "But you disagree with that?"

   "Well, yes, actually.  The particular tribe in question -- it resided in
this area long before European colonization -- generally used images of
pregnant women to represent fertility.  The figure in the gallery is, um, a
tumescent man." Elizabeth had a brief thought about tumescent men, or one
in particular, and shook it off.  Giving up pretense, she tugged at her bra
through the blouse, trying to adjust it.  "Anyway, I think that this totem
represents a different kind of spirit."

   Sam seemed to have noticed her distraction.  "If it makes you more
comfortable," he suggested, "you can take off your top.  I don't mind."

   "Thanks!" Elizabeth said gratefully.  She quickly unbuttoned her blouse
and set it aside.  That was an improvement, but it was really the bra that
was bothering her; she removed that, too, letting her heavy breasts hang
free.  "Oh, that feels much better," she said, rubbing her breasts a
little. The rubbing felt very nice, too.  It took her a moment to recollect
herself and stop.  "Sorry!  What was I saying?"

   Sam had been examining her breasts with interest, but he looked back up
at her words.  "You were saying that you think the totem represents a
different kind of spirit," he prompted.

   "Oh, right!" Elizabeth said.  "Well, I think it is a spirit
of...well...a spirit of sexuality, of sexual pleasure.  After all, there's
more to sex than just fertility, right?" A lot more.  Her mind was busy
supplying images of how much more there might be.

   "Yes..." Sam said thoughtfully.  "That makes a lot of sense.  In fact,
it explains nearly everything."

   "Good," Elizabeth said brightly, squirming a little.  She wanted to rub
her tits some more, but didn't want to be rude.  "Um, explains what?"

   "Go ahead and rub your breasts, if you like," Sam said.  "You might
enjoy pinching your nipples, too.  It explains my experiences of the last
couple of months."

   Elizabeth tried pinching her nipples.  That was something she usually
didn't do, but Sam was right, it felt really good.  She squeezed harder,
sending a mix of pain and pleasure sizzling through her.  "Ooo.  Um, your
experiences?" she asked absently.

   "Yeah," Sam said.  "You see, I touched that statue just before I
collapsed."

   I ought to scold him for that, Elizabeth thought, but really, he's such
a dear.  "That's against the rules, you know," she said half-heartedly,
pinching her nipples again.  Oh, it felt good.

   "Yes, I know," Sam said.  "Anyway, I think the spirit possessed me.  It
must have been summoned, but the Shaman was interrupted, or something, and
was never possessed by it.  A long time to wait for the right person to
come along."

   "Uhhh," Elizabeth said, "you think it possessed you?"

   "Yes.  I think that's why I collapsed.  And why I now have this
influence."

   "What kind of influence?" Elizabeth asked.  This was a crazy story, but
she really couldn't bring herself to mind being visited by him.  In fact,
she'd like to have him hang around longer.

   "On women, mainly," Sam said.  "Like you.  What are you thinking about,
right now?"

   "I, well, I guess I'm thinking, um, I guess I'm thinking that I'd like
to fuck you," Elizabeth said with some confusion.

   "So ask yourself this: you just met me.  I'm much younger than you.  But
you're sitting there topless and thinking about fucking me after only a few
minutes.  Would you normally act this way?"

   Would I act like this?  Elizabeth asked.  Is this my normal behavior? 
Her eyes widened with the shock of realization.  "My God, you're right!"
she gasped.  "I wouldn't act like this." An even more unpalatable thought
then occurred to her.  "Does that mean you aren't going to fuck me?" she
asked in dismay.

   Sam laughed.  "Don't worry, I'm going to fuck you.  I've been using my
influence on you full volume since I got here."

   Elizabeth gave a sigh of relief.  "Well, thank goodness for that!" She
stood up.  "Do you mind if I go ahead and take the rest of my clothes off,
then?" she asked him, starting to unfasten her skirt.

   "Go ahead," Sam said, and she started to strip.  "This is what I want
from you.  I want to know everything I can find out about this spirit: what
it can do; what it's limits are; how it can be controlled.  I want you to
tell me whatever you know, and find out whatever you can."

   "I'll be happy to do that," Elizabeth said.  She was completely nude,
now, stroking her fingers luxuriantly over her hot pussy.  "But why?  Do
you want to get rid of it?"

   "Certainly not!" Sam said with a laugh.  "But I want to understand it. I
want to know what else it can do."

   "I guess that makes sense," Elizabeth agreed.  She circled around the
desk and dropped to her knees in front of him.  Unfastening his trousers,
she extracted his stiff cock.  It was beautiful.  Instinctively she leaned
forward and licked it, then took it into her mouth, savoring the sweetness
of his pre-cum against her tongue.  An image of the totem came to her,
bringing a surge of heat with it.  Sam stroked her hair as she sucked him,
and she closed her eyes in pleasure.

   "Get up and bend over the desk," Sam said after a minute.  Elizabeth
quickly complied, leaning over it with her legs spread wide.  Her breasts
hung down heavily, hard nipples grazing the stack of paperwork she'd just
been working on.  Her body quivered with anticipation.

   Then Sam was behind her; his arms encircled her, hands cupping her full
tits as his cock found the entrance of her pussy and pressed in.  She
moaned in pleasure as he filled her.

   "I'll find out...anything you want..." Elizabeth gasped.  "Just please,
please fuck me."

   "That's good," Sam said, starting to move inside her.  "Elizabeth.  My
lovely Elizabeth."

   She felt a glow of pleasure at him saying her name.  Lovely.  He thinks
I'm lovely.  The small part of her mind that was not concentrated on the
pleasure of fucking him was thinking out the new research project.  It
would be very interesting, she thought, in its own right.  She could
establish once and for all that the usual interpretation of the totem was
wrong.  And this project would come with such lovely fringe benefits...
   Then ecstasy engulfed her, and erased the world for a while.