part Two* * *
It was still.
Jessica noticed that someone was tapping at the window. With a start, she realized she was sitting in her car, in her driveway, and the sun was going down. She couldn’t remember anything since leaving the airport. She had left the airport parking—and now she was home. Between, there was nothing. The tapping resumed.
Rolling down the window, she looked up into the face of her neighbor from across the street, Marina Yablu. Marina was an attractive woman with acres of curly light red hair—very attractive, Jessica thought. Stunning.
She snapped out of her reverie, realizing that Marina had been talking to her, and she had totally missed it.
“Er, I’m sorry, Marina. What was that?”
“I asked if you were okay, Jessica. You’ve been sitting here in your car for an hour.”
“Oh, I’m... fine.” Jessica couldn’t stop staring—her eyes kept dropping to Marina’s breasts, and she hoped that Marina thought it was because of the setting sun. “I guess the drive back from the airport really tired me out.”
“Is there something I can do? Would you like to come over to my house? I could make some tea.”
Something in her head flared up, demanding that she go to Marina’s house, and do more than just have tea. But Jessica’s confusion won out. “Ah, no, Marina, I’m okay. I’ll just go inside and have a sex. A nap! Oh my. I must be tired.” Jessica swung open the door of the Mustang, and stood up. Her brain still felt touched by a hot wire, and every time she looked at Marina it pulsed with heat.
Marina put a hand on Jessica’s arm, causing Jessica to shiver. “Well, okay, Jessica. Do you want help going inside?”
Jessica mustered all of her willpower. “No, thanks, Marina, I really appreciate your concern, but I’m okay.” She closed the door, and pressed her keychain alarm.
Marina ran her hand down Jessica’s arm, and smiled. “Well, alright—I’ll come by later to see if you are okay. If you need anything, I’m going to be home... alone... all evening.” Jessica looked up from the redhead’s chest to her eyes. Was that a pass? Was it catching?
But no, Marina walked back down the driveway, and across the street. Jessica pulled her eyes from Marina’s jeans-clad ass, and tottered into her house.
Jessica Koontz had inherited her house from a wealthy aunt, and it was by far the largest in the neighborhood. It had been built in a low-slung, single story ranch style more suited to California than to the midwest, back in the sixties. When it was built, it was the only non-farmhouse in the area, set among cornrows and pastures. Now the farms and farmhouses were all gone, replaced by single-family dwellings like Marina’s, and Jessica’s house was left by itself on four acres, surrounded by suburbia. Not having time to tend the fruit orchard that her aunt had planted, Jessica had informed the neighbors that they could have all the fruit if they took care of the trees; so her house was still set pleasantly amongst a variety of well-tended but now leafless trees.
She closed the large front door behind her, and collapsed onto a sofa.
Jessica knew that something had happened to her. She had never “lost time” like that before, not even during her drinking days in college. And she had damn near rubbed herself all over Marina.
Marina. Jessica remembered, then, what Ann had said about their friendly neighbor across the street when she first moved in.
“No, mom, she’s not going to get married. Getting married, at least around here, requires that you like men.”
“Are you saying that’s she’s a.. a, um...”
“Yes, mom. Rhymes with ‘thespian’. Well, almost.”
At the time, Jessica had been a touch surprised, but, after some rumination, decided that she didn’t much care. Marina had turned out to be a great neighbor, and a remarkably good cook. And she had fit into the neighborhood flawlessly.
After Bob had left, and Ann had gone away to school, Jessica had occasionally—just occasionally, mind you—wondered what it might be like. Marina had never made any suggestions, but perhaps that was just tact... and she was so awfully pretty, with her red hair... outside in that white top, which clung to her chest in just the right places. And that mouth. So... lush. So suckable.
Jessica looked down, and discovered her hand vigorously rubbing herself through her jeans. Why was thinking of Marina... of sex, with Marina, getting her so turned on? It was like she had become a...
The wire in her head lit up again, and she clenched forward in ecstasy as the spasm ran through her. Yes—yes, she was a lesbian. It was so certain. But how? She hadn’t been before. Had she? And why was she still in her pants?
She was just throwing her bra onto the easy chair opposite the sofa when the doorbell rang. Of course, her first instinct was to ignore it. Masturbation first, Witnessing Jehovah later. But then, she realized it might be Marina. Beautiful Marina. Lesbian Marina.
She quickly scooped up the clothes, hollered “Just a minute!", and sprinted to the bedroom for her blue terrycloth robe. She emerged a moment later, and finished cinching the belt as she reached the front door.
She opened the door, and her breath caught.
It was Marina.
Behind her, the sky was a coral pink, the sun having just gone down. Her gorgeous pale red hair tumbled in curls to the white sweater she had on. Her dark brown eyes glinted, hinting at secret pleasures that her mouth, broad and curled up into a smile, promised to fulfill.
“Hi again, Jessica. You seemed a bit odd, so I thought I’d come over and check again if you were really alright. May I come in?”
Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! Take me!
Jessica swung the door wide, and Marina walked into the entryway and down into the living room. She surveyed the room, brown carpeting, white leather sofa and love seat, pre-raphaelite paintings. Then she addressed Jessica over her shoulder.
“So, Jess, how have you been?”
Jessica jerked her eyes from Marina’s ass.
“I... Fine. Busy.”
“Yeah, you were in Boston, right?”
“Ah, yeah. Boston.”
Jessica had closed the door, and followed Marina into the living room, where the redhead now stood investigating the painting over the fireplace. It was a Bougerou, depicting a woman in a white dress, seated in a garden.
Marina turned rapidly, and looked into Jessica’s eyes.
“Jessica, what’s going on? You’re scoping me out like the most indiscreet teenage boy down at the mall.”
Jessica’s face flushed, and her gaze dropped.
Marina’s hand rose up to Jessica’s chin, and she lifted Jessica’s red face. Jessica’s eyes flicked up to look into Marina’s dark, mesmerizing eyes. They were inscrutable, telling no tales, but her face was drawn forward in concern, her lips pursed, as she looked into Jessica’s eyes.
Jessica kissed her. Placing her hands on Marina’s shoulders, she quickly leaned in and forced her lips onto Marina’s, forceful with need but not violently.
Marina’s eyes widened, and Jessica feared she would push her away, slap her.
Then the tension slipped away, and Marina’s hands rose to her back, holding her. Marina’s lips, her wonderful, erotic lips, began to kiss her back.
With her left hand, Jessica took hold of Marina’s hand, and slowly guided it under her robe. Marina slowly broke their kiss, staring at Jessica.
“Jessica, what... do you really...”
“Yes, Marina. I want you so much. I need you. Please... be with me.”
She stared into the dark eyes, hungering, and slowly drew Marina’s hand across the front of her body, cupping it over her full breast, then slowly sliding it down her front, over her smooth stomach, down to her soft patch of hair, and below.
Marina’s mouth fell slightly open.
“You do need it, Jessica. God, you’re all wet.”
“Marina? Will you?”
Marina looked down at her own hand, now released, the fingertips slick, and back up at Jessica.
Then she smiled.
“Of course I will. I’ve wanted you since the day we met. If you’re sure it’s what you want.”
Jessica dove on her.
In the morning, at the door, Marina leaned over to kiss Jessica goodbye. Something was already distracting Jessica, but the warm push of Marina’s tongue into her mouth brought her back to the pleasure of the moment, and the two new lovers shared a long, slow, wet kiss.
“Mmmmm... Thank you, lover,” said Marina, pulling away, and stepping out of the door. “I’m so glad you came over to my side of the fence. We have to do this again.”
“Oh Yes. God, Marina, that was so good. I never realized. Yes, again, soon.”
Marina arched a brow. “Now, Jessica—I don’t want you to get the idea that I’m easy.”
Jessica started to reply, but failed. Her mouth hung open.
Marina chuckled, and blew Jessica a kiss. “Until later, Dr. Koontz.” She walked back across the street, pausing once to look back, and wave.
Jessica watched her close her door, feeling the fire in her mind begin to glow again, pushing aside her thoughts of Marina. Something else... something else about who she was. What she really needed. She was a lesbian, yes, but... there was something else. Something even more central to who she was, and Jessica decided that she had to be open to it. The same thing that had told her who she was before was now trying to up the ante, to tell her something even more true. And her new outlook on sex had worked out so wonderfully...
Jessica closed the door and wandered into the living room. She flopped down onto the white leather couch, her robe coming open. Idly, she began to trace circles on her smooth stomach. There was something else, something bigger, buzzing around in her head, if only she could remember it.
A shiver ran through her at the thought.
Jessica shuddered again. She realized that she was getting aroused.
So she was a Bitch, as well as a lesbian. Her hips twitched. Yes, that was it—she was certain. But she wasn’t... wasn’t a bitch, really. She had always been rather a nice person. And her lovemaking with Marina... no, no, something was missing.
Her hips jerked, and she suddenly found herself frantically rubbing her slit. That was it. She was a Bitch in the classic sense. A female dog. She slid two fingers inside, surprised at her own wetness. With her thumb, she teased her clit.
Somehow, she was a Bitch. It didn’t make a lot of sense, just yet, but Jessica knew it was true. As she frantically stroked herself, she thought about questioning the fact, but she realized it would be pointless. Her Bitch-dom was so certain, so True, that there was no reason to question it. A lesbian Bitch. How odd.
“So, Bitch,” she said to herself, sliding her other hand down to her sex, “what do you do now?”
Find a DOG.
Jessica screamed with the sudden intensity of her climax.
The pound was noisy, the way they usually are, with the barking and whining of dozens of dogs. The teenage boy lead Jessica into the long concrete hall, with rows of small cages containing an amazing array of dogs. Large, small, long-haired, short-haired. There were none of the classical breeds that Jessica knew of, but she realized that those sorts of dogs didn’t often wind up in dog pounds. These were the unwanted dogs, the mutts. The clerk left her to look around, and went back to his magazine at the front desk. Not much business on a Monday afternoon.
Jessica’s heart was fluttering, and she felt very light-headed. Somehow, her Truth had lead her here, to find Him. The one. But now that she was actually here, surrounded by all these dogs, she felt terribly nervous.
She’d never been a dog person. At that, she had to chuckle. And now, here she was, a Dog-person. Looking for a Dog.
Breathing deeply, she walked down the row of of cages. She dismissed the small ones, the cute ones, out of hand. Somehow she knew that the one she picked had to be a dog she respected, perhaps even feared. She spent some time looking at a German Shepherd mix, but somehow she didn’t sense any spark. So she walked on.
And there He was. Lying in his own cage was a large dog, a mutt like all of these inmates, but obviously one with dane and possibly retriever blood. He was huge—possibly weighing more than she did. And he was, somehow, Him. She walked to the cage.
At her approach, the dog lifted his head and scented. Then he looked at her. They remained still for a moment, a tableau. Then Jessica called for the attendant.
“Uh, sir? I think I’d like this one?”
After a small delay, the teenager came back. He stood by the cage, unaware of the electricity between woman and dog. He nodded.
“A nice dog. A bit big for most people, and obviously not any sort of pure-bred. We think he’s only about two, so you’ll have him for a while. He was brought in by a farmer who found him dumped.”
The boy opened the cage, and the dog stood up. He allowed the attendant to attach a leash to his collar, and walked out with him. Jessica followed, a bit numbly, like someone who’d just awoken on a steamer for Shanghai.
She put him in the passenger seat. Once on the road, even with his presence looming next to her, her insides began to untie themselves. She looked over at the dog, who had managed to smear the passenger window with his nose so severely she could hardly see out of it.
“So,” she began, but stopped as his head swiveled to look at her. She felt herself falling into his big dog eyes, and had to jerk her attention back to the road. She tried again, not looking at him.
“So, what is your name? You’re certainly a big dog. Powerful.” Much stronger than I am, she thought. Much more important. You should have the name of a god.
Snow began to fall in light flakes around the car, as she turned off the freeway.
“May I call you Thunor?”
She was just about to explain who Thunor was, when he licked her hand. The twitch almost ran her off the road.
Thunor definitely took to Jessica’s house. He somehow knew he was to have the run of it, and over the next few days Jessica ran into him in every room of the house—the bedroom, the small home laboratory, the kitchen (of course), the study—even the bathroom.
If anything, it was Jessica who was afraid of Thunor. She took him on a few walks, but when she tried to pet him, it felt too good. So good it was eerie. And it also felt that it was wrong, somehow, condescending to the dog. So she fed him, and let him run around the house, and stayed late at work.
Or at Marina’s house. After that first electric night, she had made it a point to visit Marina frequently, and despite Marina’s insincere protestations, every time they wound up in bed. Or on the floor.
It was a Thursday, and this time they had had tea in the kitchen and then proceeded to make love on the rug. As they lay entangled, afterward, Jessica asked: “Marina, do you have any... fantasies?”
Marina smiled, and kissed her. “Of course, silly. This was one of them. Girl next door. Isn’t it a bit early in our relationship to be talking about fantasies? I mean, are you about to ask me for something?”
“Oh, no! I was just, you know, wondering.”
“Unh-hunh. Sure you were.” Marina began to trace circles around Jessica’s nipples. “Honestly, Jessica. What made you ask?”
“Oh, I’ve been having these weird dreams, lately.”
“Really. I never put much stock in dreams, myself. But I’m intrigued, lover. Go on. Were they sex dreams?”
“Sort of. They’re really kinky, though.”
“Ooh. The best kind. Tell.”
Jessica paused, leaping the mental hurdle, and sat up.
“Well, in them... I’m a dog. And I’m part of this pack of dogs, and there’s this dominant dog, and I... I really need to be his.”
“Wow. That is kinky. Not why you just bought Thunor, is it?”
“No! Ah, it started happening after I bought him. But anyways, there’s no actual sex, but somehow it’s all about sex, and me being his for the taking. It’s weird.”
“Well, sort of. The dog part is weird. But the fantasy about submission, that’s one of the oldest ones in the book. I had a girlfriend who was into that sort of thing, but most women think about it now and then. Best as a fantasy, though—then even when you are submitting you are safe and in charge.”
“You think it’s normal?”
Marina laughed. “Hell, I don’t know. Personally, I think the part about the dog being a male is the weird thing.”
The following week, Marina had gone to visit her brother in Taos, so Jessica spent most of her time at the lab. Her assistant, Maeve, two years out of college, had been as ecstatic as she was about the funding.
Jessica was having trouble keeping her eyes off of Maeve. The girl was only seven years older than Jessica’s daughter, but that didn’t seem to matter to whatever was driving her now. By Friday, Maeve had started to pick up on Jessica’s weird vibe, and Jessica had left at noon, ostensibly to work at home but really so that Maeve didn’t catch her touching herself.
Which she did all the way home.
As she pulled up the driveway, she thought suddenly about Thunor, and somehow the worry that he might pick up on her arousal was even more exciting. Her fear of him (no, of her reaction to him) was like a spice added to the wine of her lust.
But, as she entered the front door, he didn’t appear to be in. Jessica took her papers to the study, dropped them off, and began to search around the house for him. The corner of the bedroom he had appropriated as his was vacant; so were the spots he liked in the kitchen and the living room. Perhaps he was out back in the yard. She had taken to leaving the lower half of the back door open, so that Thunor could roam around in the back yard. It would be easier for thieves to break a front window than to get past Thunor and into the open back door.
Jessica walked to the back of the house, and unlatched the top half of the door. When she swung it open, there he was. Looking at her.
“Hi, Thunor. I’m home—what were you... doing... ah—”
As she began her greeting, Thunor approached her, and she her eyes widened as she noticed, swaying beneath him, his cock. Something had aroused him—she didn’t know what it was, perhaps the scent of a bitch in heat on the wind—but Jessica couldn’t take her eyes off of it, as he walked closer. There was a high-pitched note reverberating in her head, and the wire that had tightened around her mind blazed up in heat.
The dog walked up to her, and began to smell her crotch. Jessica squirmed. This was so wrong. She had to get away. What was happening to her?
Then Thunor bumped his nose into her, pushing against her excited pussy.
Jessica emitted a soft moan, and found herself turning around. Slowly, she dropped to her hands and knees. She could hardly hear over the blood rushing in her head—what was controlling her? What was she doing?
Oh, God. She was offering herself to him.
Sure enough, Jessica found herself on all fours, legs slighly parted, looking over her shoulder at Thunor. Like an automaton, she had dropped into position.
Thunor sniffed at her again. Then he moved closer.
She was in her clothes. As long as she was in her clothes, she was okay. Jessica fought to calm down, to regain control. Even as she felt Thunor’s paws suddenly press down on her lower back, she managed to get back enough control to scoot forward. Leaning hard against the wall, she stood up. She slumped against the wall, and turned to face the dog. His inscrutable eyes bored into hers, and she almost felt her will evaporate again.
“Thu. Thunor. No. I can’t- please, Thunor, leave me alone. It’s wrong.”
They watched each other for another moment. Satisfied that Thunor was going to let her go, Jessica turned, and walked towards the front door. She had to get out, had to think...
Thunor’s nose pressed up hard between her legs again.
Jessica stiffened. Her hands rose up in front of her, and she bent, hinged, at the waist. Putting her hands on the floor, she slowly bent her knees until they were on the floor again. She pushed her thighs apart, and turned her head to look at Thunor.
This time the dog wasted no time, and was on her even as she turned to look. His forelegs gripped her waist, and his long red cock slid between her legs, running against the fly of her jeans.
Jessica shuddered, hung her head. She was far from tears, somehow; but she was swimming in confusion. Why was this happening? Her body was acting without her control. Acting automatically, by instinct.
Like a Bitch.
Thinking the word gave her a jolt of pleasure. Oh, no, she thought. I want him to mount me. Oh, God. That’s sick. I want him to mount
It was like electricity, straight from her cunt to her brain. She was Thunor’s bitch. And she was horny, and he was horny...
I can’t- won’t- do this. It’s wrong. Jessica fought against the need that was drowning her. He’s a DOG, for Christ’s sake.
Just like me.
Under her, Thunor’s cock was stiff, rubbing quickly across the front of her jeans. Jessica opened her eyes to look at it.
Slowly, she saw her left hand leave the ground, reach back down, between her legs.
Pop the button on her fly.
Thunor was whining, confused. The jeans couldn’t feel that good as he drove his shaft along them. His cock bumped against her hand, as she pulled her zipper down.
She closed her eyes, and lowered her shoulders to the floor. Her cheek pressed against the cool linoleum, her breasts pressed against it. With both hands, now, she reached back to take hold of the waistband of her jeans.
I’m about to be fucked by a dog.
I’m helping him.
Helping him fuck me.
She felt her thumbs hook under the waistband of her jeans and her panties at once, and slowly began sliding them down. Thunor’s furry underbelly rubbed against her bare ass.
Her thumbs were sliding along her thighs, now; her breathing was ragged and quick, as her panties came free of her crotch.
Thunor’s cock had gotten somewhat tangled in her pants as she slid them down, but now it sprung back up against her underbelly. She shuddered, feeling its wet stickiness rubbing against her.
Fuck me, she thought. Fuck me. It’s what has to happen.
I’m a Bitch.
But Thunor kept rubbing his dick along her belly, perhaps confused by the situation himself.
Her hand reached back again.
Put him inside her.
Jessica grunted as he slid into her pussy. Her hand, sticky, dropped away. She was copiously wet, excited, and Thunor began his staccato rythm of thrusts immediately. She whined, high-pitched.
It felt so good.
Several days later, the phone rang.
Jessica walked into the kitchen, and picked up the phone. Thunor was out in the yard somewhere, having grown bored of watching Jessica put together her new equipment in the lab.
Jessica broke into a warm smile. “Hi, honey. How’s school?”
“Oh, it’s fine. Classes are good, yadda yadda. Say, I have something to ask.”
“Shoot.” Jessica walked back down the hall to the lab. She had just finished assembling the equipment, and was eager to test it.
“A bunch of the other girls were going to go to Nantucket for spring break, and I was wondering if I could go with them.”
“Oh. I thought you were coming home for Easter.”
“I know, but I’d really like to go to Nantucket.”
Jessica sighed. “Okay. If you really want to, I suppose that you should. Do you need any additional money?”
“Well, just a little. Oh, and I have something else to ask.”
“I wanted to ask about Easter first, so that we would decouple these two things. I didn’t want a quid pro quo or anything. I was hoping I could stay with you, this summer, instead of staying at dad’s.”
“Really? That would be great! Ah, why?”
“Well, his new girlfriend really got on my nerves, the last few weekends. Besides, you’re more interesting conversation—he always talks about golf. You don’t have a new boyfriend, do you?”
“Ah, no, not really.”
“Not really? Mom! Tell.”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Ann let out an exasperated sound. “You have to tell me, mom. Wait—Anna is here to take me to to class. So, Easter in Nantucket is good, and summer at your place, check?”
“Yeah, that’s all okay with me.”
“Cool. Bye mom!”
“Bye hon. Love you!”
Jessica hung up the phone, and looked at the new “equipment” decorating her home lab. The reclining X-rack had set her back a fair penny, but she knew that some subjects—all subjects—would initially have to be restrained. She slid a hand along the leather wrist cuffs, played with the buckles.
Nearby, her new A/V equipment glinted atop the white plastic cushion top of the examining table. A complicated set of goggles, and an innocuous pair of headphones, each connected by several cables to a new G4 cube running very special software. Behavioral Modification software from a colleague of hers at Southern California University, to be precise. She had been appalled at Arundsen’s lack of morality when she last heard him talk, but tools like these did have their uses, she had to admit. And he hadn’t even asked why she wanted them.
Jessica couldn’t wait to begin. The... purity of the last few weeks had convinced her of the rightness of her place, and her plan. She was Thunor’s Bitch, but he was male. He needed, he deserved, more than her—and she could deliver. She would provide for her Master. After realizing what she was to do, it had been only a matter of a week to obtain the correct equipment.
Of course, she had been in rather a hurry, and this had caused her to cut a few corners. The room wasn’t even soundproofed.
Maeve’s eyes, wide and terrified, stared at Jessica over the shiny black rubber plug of the ball gag.
She was naked, strapped into the X-rack; Jessica could easily guess at the terrified thoughts racing through Maeve’s mind. She smiled, and ran a hand across Maeve’s cheek.
“There, there. I’d tell you to not be afraid, but I know you can’t help it.”
Jessica walked across the lab to her cabinet, withdrew an ampule and a syringe, and began filling it.
“This will help you to relax.”
She crossed back to the X-rack, admiring Maeve as she hung there. Maeve’s eyes widened as Jessica held the needle up to her arm, and her muffled cries intensified as it slipped in, and Jessica began injecting the yellowish fluid.
“Calm down, Maeve. You know, I’m not doing this to hurt you. Quite the contrary.”
Jessica reached to where the headphones hung on one side of the head restraint.
“You see, society has conditioned you to think a certain way. Well, I’m just going to break that conditioning, and help you to think the correct way.”
She fit the headphones over Maeve’s ears. Maeve was crying now, tears runnind down her cheeks. Jessica kissed her on the forehead.
“I’m really sorry that this is causing you so much distress. But I have to do it. I need to change the direction of my research, and I need you to help me. So I have to make you want to help me. And, I confess, I’m selfish, and want to have you in the pack. I’ve fantasized about fucking you more in the last week than in the two years you’ve been working for me.” There was a sound behind her, and Jessica turned her head. “Oh.”
Thunor had entered the room, and stood in the doorway looking at the two women.
“Hello, Thunor. I’m preparing her for you—it may take some time. She has a lifetime of wrong thinking to erase.”
The dog did not respond, and Jessica returned her attention to Maeve. The girl’s struggles were becoming sluggish as the drug took effect. Her eyes were developing a glassy appearance, dulling her look of fright.
“That’s it, love. Just calm down. Listen to what the headphones tell you. Listen, and accept. You are going to love the new person you will become. The new, better person. And then we can both get back to work, and serve our Master.” Jessica stroked Maeve’s hair.
Thunor then walked forward, and stuck his nose into Jessica’s crotch.
Jessica stiffened, as though galvanized. She stepped back from Maeve, to the center of the room, and quickly took off her pants and underwear. Thunor was circling her, slowly.
Jessica got down on her knees, naked from the waist down. Thunor circled behind her, sniffed her, and began to lick her vagina. His tongue was warm and wet, and Jessica wriggled her ass in pleasure, pushing herself back at him.
She looked up at Maeve.
The dark-haired girl was staring at her, eyes filled with horror behind the glassy sheen the drugs had given them.
Jessica smiled at her.
Behind her, Thunor ceased his licking, and hopped up on her back. She could feel his cock poking around at the back of her thighs. She leaned forward, spreading herself, anticipating. Thunor’s front paws slipped around her waist, and after a few moments of disorganized poking, his cock found her entrance, and he slid in. Jessica gasped—Thunor immediately drove himself forward as far as possible, gripped her more tightly, and began his jackrabbit thrusts.
Drool spattered the back of Jessica’s shirt, and soon her panting was accelerating to match Thunor’s. Then he stiffened, and began ejaculating, his warm spend shooting into Jessica. Feeling it, she came, as she did every time, shaking violently and biting her lip to keep from crying out. It was so right. It was so right.
She slumped forward onto the floor, ass in the air, and Thunor attempted to dismount. His knot had already begun to swell, but he pulled back quickly, and rather than waiting around, headed out of the room—perhaps for water, perhaps to find a less crowded corner to clean himself in. Jessica remained on the floor, ass in the air, liquid running down her thighs.
Maeve’s drugged gaze was still on her, and she flopped her head to the other side to return it. She smiled, and pushed herself up.
“Oh yes, love. He is my Master. And, oh God, do I love being his Bitch. It’s what I was born for. What we were all born for, but society has made us forget.”
Tottering to the table next to the X-rack, she pressed some keys on the computer, and noise began to hiss softly from the headphones, pouring into Maeve’s ears. Jessica returned to the rack, and picked up the goggles; images were flickering inside them.
“Rest now, Maeve, and learn. Absorb what you are being told. Accept it. Let it drive out the old thoughts, the bad ones. Be reborn. I’ll be back tomorrow, to see how your training is coming.” Jessica kissed her on the forehead.
Jessica fitted the goggles onto Maeve’s head. After seeing that everything was running correctly, she turned off the lights, and went to see if Thunor wanted any help cleaning up.
Dr. Belle Simon got to her feet and walked to the far side of the gallery. She passed a young couple eyeing an abstract metal sculpture with several planes of black granite driven through it, or escaping from it.
She examined the brunette in passing. No. Not mature enough. Too much like a girl still.
She turned and walked back towards the southwest corner of the room. She stopped in front of a white voluptuous figure on a white platform. She nodded. The figure was of a woman pushing a white dildo-shape into her mouth and squatting her sex onto a horse-sized phallus.
The tiny brass plate on the platform read, Self-Inflicted by Belle Simon.
Belle smiled. Her phone rang. She stepped past another sculpture and leaned against the wall. Slipping a tiny phone from her purse, she checked the number of the incoming call. She pushed a button and put the phone to her ear.
“Yes, Iko? Have you something to tell me about Dr. Koontz?”
She watched three college-age women enter the gallery glancing at their brochures.
She started to laugh. Her eyes sparked. “Fucking a dog? Jessica Koontz is fornicating with a canine? Very kinky. I had no idea she was so flexible. Certainly not something I told her to do. What else did you find out?”
A pause while Belle eyed the women making their way around the room towards her. The young man and woman strolled off to an adjoining space.
“She has another woman locked up? How odd. She isn’t performing to instructions, yet it sounds so deliciously perverse.” Belle licked her lower lip. “No, Iko, don’t interfere. Have you managed to retrieve our cell phone? Is it damaged?”
Belle smiled. “Good. Then we must assume that it did work on Jessica and she is reacting in some way. I want to study this. I want to know what she does and why she seems to be doing it, but don’t talk to her. Don’t interfere. Get pictures if you can. Take notes. I want you to remember everything, Iko-candy-robot.” Belle chuckled. “Yes. Execute new program. Stay at least thirty yards from Jessica Koontz and note all her activities without exposing yourself. Belle out.”
She thumbed the phone off.
The three girls were grinning and studying the perverse white nude, Self Inflicted. They seemed to think it was both awful and interesting. One of the girls happened to look her way and Belle winked at her.
A quick whispered conference with her two companions and they all left the room for adjoining galleries.
Belle shrugged. Hard to believe I look that predatory. Ah, well.
She strolled back to the squatting nude. “Well, Director Stevens, it seems you are a hit as Art. There’s no one here right now, so I’ll just tell you how hot you look, painted white and displaying yourself. I know that your pussy is dripping because when you misbehave, you’re a bad girl, and bad girls get horny when they misbehave.”
Belle reached out and pinched one of the nude’s nipples.
The still life nude trembled. Then froze again.
“Ah, remember! No moving until you cum!” Belle stepped back. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I have other calls to make.”
She walked off in the direction that the three young girls had taken.