The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Dark Passage

I sat between Deb and Ellen at dinner. I was surprised to learn that Ellen was not only the director for our site, but for Sedona as well, spending one week a month there.

An odd thing—the dinner plates are prepared in the kitchen, with serving dishes brought out later for those who want seconds. The food is great. But my first reaction when a plate was put in front of me was to sweep the vegetables, green beans prepared with shallots and bacon, off of the plate. But they were delicious—I had more. As a kid I’d not liked many vegetables, especially green beans. The beans we had when I was a kid were canned, a livid unreal-green color. Come to think of it, at breakfast, I’d torn off the top crust on my toast—something else I used to do as a little kid. Weird. Similar thing at lunch—a strong reaction to something, a reaction that surprised me, but faded quickly.

When I mentioned I was going through prints for display around the estate, Ellen let me know quite clearly that I should bring them by her office first—so she could select the ones she wanted in her office. While her tone was overtly conversational, I answered, “Yes, dear.”

Ellen’s office door was closed when I came by after dinner with an armload of prints. I knocked on the door and she called out, “Come in!”

Kendra was sitting at the small table with Deb. She closed up a folder and said, “See you in the morning...”

“Oh, stick around—you might want some for your torture chamber,” I told her.

She gave me a funny look.

I sighed and put a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for your efforts. I know I’ll thank you—just not when I first try to move in the morning...”

She smiled. “You’re doing fine. Maybe we can go for a run this weekend.”

“Have some pictures?” Ellen interrupted.

“Yes, dear,” I replied, to laughter.

After two or three pictures, another damn green index card fell out of the stack. I quickly pocketed it.

“What was that?” Kendra asked.

“Nothing—a bad joke,” I told her, and went back to the prints I’d brought. Ellen liked three, and Kendra thought a few would look good in the fitness center.

We sat talking for a while. I felt tired; it had been a long day. “Sorry, folks—I’m heading for bed. Someone insists I be up early in the morning...”

“I can drop the other pictures in your office,” Kendra offered.

“Thanks—just put them on the desk.”

After brief hugs I headed upstairs. I wasn’t tired, I was exhausted. I cleaned up in the bathroom, set out my exercise things for the morning, set the alarm, and crawled into bed.

It wasn’t a dream—I woke at least partially to a warm, soft, amorous, and quite naked woman in bed with me. I was wearing a T-shirt, and we struggled together to get it off. We kissed, our bodies sliding together again, that delicious contact of skin against skin. After a brief period, I was on top of her, sliding in. At some point she put her hands on my lower back—they felt so warm, so good, as she urged me into her deeper. We came, our lips locked together. We settled in together, snuggled up.

I woke suddenly—wide awake. Two thirty said the clock. I got up carefully, looking at Bernadette sleeping peacefully next to me. I walked across the hall and used the bathroom.

Back in “my” room, I stood there by the bed for a bit. What was going on? I had that feeling again, that feeling of the instant before impact when time feels suspended. I sat on the edge of the bed, moving my arms, rolling my head. I felt weird, physically and mentally, but didn’t have a clue as to why.

“Is something wrong?” Bernadette asked softly behind me.

I turned and slid back into bed. “Don’t know—I’m wide awake all of a sudden.”

She opened her arms. “I can help with that...”

I moved over into her arms, sliding down. She held me, nestling my head between her breasts. As she cradled my head, I had a momentary surge of almost panic, even as I melted in her arms. She held me, rocked me, and whispered me back to sleep.

When the alarm went off, I whacked the snooze bar and held her again. She held me to her, sighing, “Oh yes, just like that...”

When the alarm went off again, we got up. We separated with a hug and a kiss, heading to our respective bathrooms.

I don’t know how Kendra’s class was—it was challenging, yet all the time I had more of these weird feelings.

After class, I walked back to the house with Bernadette. “Sorry I ducked out on you last night—I was exhausted,” I told her.

She put an arm around me. “That’s okay; that’s what Kendra told me. It was nice waking you.”

I put my arm around her. “I’m not sure how awake I was...”

“What happened in the middle of the night?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Don’t know—woke up suddenly, wide awake, feeling weird somehow. Don’t know what it was. You had the antidote, though. I’m glad you were there.”

“Mmmm... So was I. You are so warm to snuggle with...”

I chuckled. “Thanks—I don’t know if I’m feeling warm, cold, or what right now.”

I cleaned up, had something to eat, and went to the office. The other prints were nicely stacked on my desk. I put them aside and read through the Wall Street Journal.

Going through the prints and putting them away around ten thirty, I ran across another damn green index card.

“Shit! This is going to stop!” I muttered to nobody in particular. I turned to the phone, picked it up, and put it down again. I didn’t know how to call other people in the complex.

I picked up the latest card, and walked down the hall to where Kendra had her office. The door was closed, so I knocked.

“Yes?” she said from inside.

I opened it, sticking my head in. She was sitting at her desk.

“Could you come over to my place? I’ve got a problem.”

“Sure,” she said, getting up.

We went back to my office. I offered her a chair.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

I poured myself more water, and took the latest card out of my pocket.

“Someone is playing games. I want it to stop. Recognize the writing?”

I handed her the card. It had “RUN AWAY NOW!” scrawled on it.

She looked at it, frowning, turning it over. “This the one that I saw last night?”

I shook my head. “No, this one appeared a little while ago.”

“So there’s more than one? How many have you gotten? When did they start?”

I looked over to the trash can. It hadn’t been emptied. I retrieved six more. “They started about two days ago, appearing randomly, in the office here.” I handed them to her.

She looked them over. She held one out to me. It was the one that had “YOUR IN DANGER” scrawled on it—it looked as if it had been done by a six-year-old.

“Yeah, the grammar matches the penmanship,” I said sardonically.

“Do you recognize the handwriting, if you could call it that?” she asked.

I shook my head again. “I’d say no, but then again I’d say not quite—it’s like I should recognize it. Thought you might.”

She shook her head. “Can’t say that I do. Someone is trying to send you a message, though—‘Danger,’ ‘Your in danger,’ ‘Run away.’ Do you know where the cards themselves came from?

“Oh yeah—I use ‘em for taking notes, marking places in books, picking stuff out of my teeth. Oh shit...” I opened the desk drawer. The top card on the stack bore the scrawl “GET OUT NOW!”

“When’s the last time you opened this drawer?” she asked.

“Yesterday?” I replied. “Last night?”

“Is that a black pen?” she asked, pointing to a ballpoint at the front of the drawer.

“Yeah,” I said, reaching for it.

Her hand grabbed mine. “Don’t touch—I may want to try to get prints off it. Who else has seen these? Who else have you told?”

I sighed, sitting down again. “You and Ellen saw the one last night. Suzanne saw one, I think. I haven’t told anyone about it other than you. I thought it was a joke at first, and let it slide. It’s beginning to bug me.”

She held one of the cards in front of her, looking at it almost sideways. “God—whoever did this pressed really hard—you can read it from the other side of the card.” She held the card in front of me, turning it. You could see the creases in the card from the lettering.

“Okay—precision work, going right along with the penmanship and grammar.”

She smiled. “Yeah, not quite up to the standards of your to-do list...” She pointed at the list I had on the desk. As is common with the profession, my printing was small, neat, precise.

“A little different... What now? This is your domain.”

She nodded, her lips pursed grimly. “Yup. Go take a walk. Stay out of here until after lunch. Don’t tell anyone about this—not Ellen, not Deb.”

I nodded. “I won’t knowingly tell anyone. Okay, have fun. I’ll be out by the tree.”

I headed next door, got a light jacket, visited the loo, then headed out and sat by the tree.

Snakes in paradise? What was going on? Who was our “owner?” So many questions, so many things going on... I closed my eyes, sitting back. My head hurt. So did my knees, although it wasn’t a muscle or ligament kind of hurt. And my armpits hurt. That was weird.

As I looked up through the tree, I saw a couple of leaves turning color. Next week would be it. Part of me started composing images. I laughed to myself—I could see one series in my mind’s eye—from the angle, they’d have to be taken from a cherry-picker, the camera up about thirty feet off the ground. Somehow I didn’t think I’d have a problem getting someone to rent one for me for a few days. I knew I’d want to use a plum-bob and a long string, and some kind of marker on the ground so I’d be able to shoot from that same spot in the spring and summer.

The artistic side of me chewed on that problem happily for a while. I knew what I wanted to do, how to approach it, and what the shots would look like. And damn, they felt like they’d look really good.

Ah well, about time to head back for lunch. I headed by the storage building and spoke with George for a few minutes as he cleaned up the cabinet that was to go in my office. It was looking quite good.

Lunch was good, but I wasn’t that hungry. Once or twice I almost looked behind me, the feeling of something not-so-good approaching was so strong.

I went back to the office and started sketching out shots, figuring lighting angles. I could use an overall plot of the property to figure sun angles. Terraserver should have something. When was my new confuser arriving?

I refilled my water pitcher—I was thirsty. When I got back to the office, another damn card was on my chair—“GET OUT BEFORE ITS TOO LATE.” Gee, getting positively wordy. I put the pitcher on its stand and walked to Kendra’s office. I knocked on her door—no reply.

I started back to my office, but stopped suddenly. I felt like shit, and I mean really bad. I held on to the wall, trembling. I didn’t know if I was hot or cold—I felt like both. I wobbled to Bernadette’s door. Thankfully it was open.

I held on to the door frame. She was at her desk, and looked up at me. Her smile quickly changed to a look of concern, and she practically bolted from her chair.

She helped me inside. “Rob, what’s the matter? You don’t look well!”

She walked me directly to her little infirmary next door.

I told her how I was feeling—shitty, sore armpits, knees, elbows, hot and cold, trembly...

I started shivering as she took my temperature and checked my blood pressure.

“Okay, let’s get you covered up—you’re running a fever,” she told me.

We got my shoes off. I emptied my pants pockets and got into her little infirmary bed. She put another blanket on top of me.

“How do you feel? Any warmer?” she asked, putting a hand on my head. Her hand felt quite cool.

“Still freezing,” I told her. I closed my eyes. “The light hurts.”

“Okay... You’re quite warm. I’ll get shades for your eyes. Don’t go away.”

The eyeshades seemed to help. After a bit, she put a mask on my face. I don’t know if she gassed me, or what, but I was really out of it. I wasn’t awake, but I wasn’t asleep either.

I was more awake. I was thirsty, and also needed to pee. She helped me to the bathroom. I changed into sweats. When she asked how I felt, I told her I was sore from head to toe—it felt like every muscle and joint in my body hurt.

Nightmares—when I was little, the few times I was sick, I had nightmares and hallucinations. This time I was little again, six or seven maybe. I was in my old house, where I grew up, except the doors were wrong—and the hallway was too long. I had to get away; they were after me. But my arms and legs wouldn’t work right. My legs were so slow and hard to move that I tried pulling myself along with my arms, but they didn’t help much. I looked behind me, and Linda was after me—so much taller than me, her eyes glowing red. I cried and screamed, trying to wake myself up, but it didn’t work.

I saw someone ahead of me—Suzanne. I cried out to her. But when she turned around, her eyes were glowing red as well. She came closer.

It was so hard to move. I squeezed my eyes shut, screaming, crying. They touched me and I tried to fight...

That scent filled me, and someone held me as I melted into their arms. I still tried to get away; I had to get away. They held me, rocked me, tried to comfort me.

I was on my stomach. Strong hands were massaging the muscles in my legs. I could feel a mask on my face, eyeshades covering my eyes. I tried to say something, but a noise was all I could make.

The hands paused. “Rob, nod if you can hear me.” It was Bernadette. I nodded.

“Rob, you’re still feverish. Does this help?”

I nodded again.

“Good. Relax, Rob, and let us take care of you.”

Her hands started in again, working on my legs. My head started buzzing again. On my back, I remember doing stretches for my legs and hips.

More nightmares—they were after me again. I felt older, fourteen or so. There was something I could do to escape but I couldn’t think clearly. I stopped trying to run. I was in the upstairs hall of the main house. No, that wasn’t right—some part of me knew that wasn’t right—I was somewhere else, on my back. I closed my eyes and tried to wake up, trying to scream, to shout, to make some sound. Something was on my face—that made me even more scared. I couldn’t see anything.

Linda’s voice—trying to help, trying to calm me. Part of me wanted to run, but part of me trusted her, needed her. I tried calling out to her, holding my arms out to her. Something held my arms, my wrists.

I tried to scream as something was taken off my face. Then I felt cool skin, heard a heartbeat, felt hands cradling my head. I was safe—I was in Linda’s arms. She would protect me. I wanted to hold her, but something still held my arms. I cried, and she held me, cradled me, spoke to me, trying to calm me. Something bit my right arm—she held me, spoke to me—I was safe. A flash of heat and buzzing enveloped me.

Voices filled me. I was floating somewhere. I still hurt, but I was safe. Linda’s voice, Bernadette, and another woman’s voice that I’d heard before. They would protect me, and I would protect them.

The voices went on and on, sometimes talking to me, other times talking to someone else. The voices carried me, soothed me, as strong hands massaged and stretched my still-sore body.

I was hot and sweaty. I managed to kick off a seemingly endless layer of blankets on top of me. That helped—I was cooling off. Something was still holding my arms and wrists.

Hands on my body again. I opened my eyes; the room was dimly lit, but I could see Bernadette over me as she worked the outside of my legs. I took a breath, feeling myself grow erect, feeling her hands work the outsides of my legs.

She paused and moved her head over me. She smiled.

“I want you,” I whispered. “I need you.”

I felt her on top of me. I slid into her, and she leaned forward as she rocked, teasing me with her breasts. She slid a hand behind my head and held me to a breast. I pumped into her as she rocked, holding me.

I was on my side. My eyes felt as if they were full of sand and glue. My throat was dry. I felt clammy, sweaty, sticky. But I could move my arms again. I pushed the covers off me.

I struggled my eyes open. I was in the little infirmary still, the lights in the room off, but light coming in from next door. I tried to call out, but only succeeded in making a noise.

That was enough—Bernadette came in.

“No, don’t rub your eyes. Let me get a washcloth,” she said. The washcloth felt good—cool. I sat up, my feet touching the cool floor. She got me a glass of water. The first two sips I took slowly, then gulped the rest down.

She sat on the bed next to me. “How do you feel?”

I moved my head around and cleared my throat. “Like I’ve been through hell. God, what a night!”

She put a hand on my back. “It’s about ten in the morning, Monday...”

I sighed, putting a hand on her thigh. “Shit... What hit me?”

She rubbed my back. “You had a high fever, and pretty violent hallucinations.”

“God, I remember those—haven’t had anything like that since I was a little kid.”

“Want to try and stand? I’ll help.”

“You’ll have to...”

She helped me stand. I hugged her. Her arms went around me.

“Feel better?” she asked.

“Was making love with you a dream?”

She sighed. “No, that was real—last night about ten. You slept through the night.”

She walked me over to the little bathroom. “Think you can stand on your own and shower?”

“Yeah, I need one.”

“At least one, darling...”

I managed to shower, although I was glad there were grab bars and a stool to use.

Bernadette helped me dry off.

“What happened here,” I asked, pointing to marks on the inside of my right elbow.

“I had you on IV fluids, you were sweating so much.”

I also had marks on my forearms near the wrists, and pointed to one of those.

She sighed and held me, wet towel and all. “When I said violent hallucinations, that’s what I meant—we had to restrain and sedate you for a while.”

“I hope I didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Oh, you didn’t—you made it.”

When I was dry, she had me get on the scale. We figure I lost around eight pounds.

“God, I could eat a horse!” I muttered. I turned and saw Linda in the doorway, clothes in her arms. I stumbled towards her, ending up where I wanted to be, which was in her arms.

“You’re doing better,” she said happily.

“Yes, thanks to your help, you and Bernadette.”

“And Kendra—we took turns watching you.”

Linda helped me dress. Bernadette handed me a large glass of something cold.

“What’s this?”

“Help replace your electrolytes—if that stays down, you can have lunch later on.”

I drank it down fairly quickly. “That helped,” I told them.

“Feel like talking?” Linda asked.

Before I could respond, Bernadette said, “Not until later this afternoon, after he’s had something to eat and a little more rest.”

Linda nodded and gave me another hug. “I agree.”

“What now?” I asked.

“Why don’t we go to your office,” Linda said.

I was still a little wobbly going down the hall. The wooden cabinet had been installed, as had the file for negatives and photos.

“Wow—looks great,” I said as she managed me to my chair.

“Thank Suzanne for that—she put in quite a bit of time yesterday organizing things.”

“I will—I’m not sure how I’m going to thank you all for taking care of me.”

Linda leaned back in her chair and gave me a sultry look. “Oh, I can think of a few things...”

Bernadette filled my water pitcher with more of the colored stuff. I started looking through the paper.

“Are you baby-sitting me?” I finally asked.

Bernadette smiled. “Yes—someone is going to be with you all the time until we’re sure you’ve recovered.”

I sighed and nodded. “Want to see some of the paper?”

I drank a few more glasses of stuff. I stopped to use the bathroom in Bernadette’s office on the way to lunch. She took my blood pressure and temperature, both pretty close to normal.

We stopped by my room on the way, mainly so I could shave.

Lunch was weird on a number of counts. Aside from Ellen asking how I was doing, and Suzanne looking quite concerned, it was as if nothing had happened. Okay, maybe they’re right, nothing has happened, at least nothing important. I was served soup for lunch, that and bread. Linda and Bernadette sat on either side of me eating what looked like Caesar salads with chicken.

I was walking back to my office, and had just stepped out the door of the main house. The air smelled fresh and crisp, late fall. I looked to the distance, and the bright light in my eyes was matched by a sharp pain in my head. I covered my eyes. Someone put a hand on my arm; another arm went around my waist.

“What is it?” asked Linda.

“Bright light—wow, instant headache!”

I was hustled back to Bernadette’s lair and on to the bed.

“I want another blood sample,” Bernadette said, walking in with a tray.

To my sigh and look of discomfort, Linda sat next to me and started leaning over. “I know how to help,” she said softly.

She held me, and I floated off in her arms.

“Wake up, sleepy...”

I rolled over. Bernadette was standing next to me. “How’s your head?”

I blinked and sat up. “Okay... Headache is sort of gone, but it feels like it’s gone for a while but coming back, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I do. How about the rest of you?”

I rolled my shoulders. “Tense, tight somehow. I need to use the bathroom.”

“Let me help you up.”

She helped me up and into a hug. “Oh, that helps a lot,” I whispered.

As we walked to the bathroom, I saw my workout clothes on top of a cabinet. Yup, about twenty to three in the afternoon. “Am I up for that this afternoon?” I asked, pointing to the clothes.

She chuckled as she picked them up. “I’d say yes. It will be a light session. We just want you to warm up enough so you can stretch safely, then it will be back over here for a massage. How about that?”

I sighed. “Sounds good to me.”

I went to the bathroom, and changed my clothes.

“So, how am I doing?” I asked as we walked to the fitness center.

“Your electrolytes are coming back to normal, balanced levels. You’re still showing signs consistent with a severe bout with a virus.”

“Well, I think I won...”

“I think so,” she said, a hand on my back.

Kendra ran me on the treadmill for a few minutes, then we went to the floor for some serious stretching. I drop into that haze almost automatically; it’s so much easier.

I was aware enough to notice Bernadette stepping away for a minute.

“What about the green cards?” I asked Kendra. “Find out anything?”

She smiled as she pressed on my shoulders. I exhaled as the world went softer again.

“Yes, some loose ends to take care of, but you won’t be getting any more of them.”

“Who?” I asked.

She smiled and pressed again. My eyes closed. I heard her say, “Ask again in a few days...”

On the massage table back at Bernadette’s office, it seemed as if every place she touched me made me twitch or jump. After a few minutes of this, she placed both her hands on my back. That made me twitch too.

She sighed. “Let’s try it this way then...” After a moment, she said, “Lift your head a little.” She placed a mask over my face. I could hear a soft hissing. “Deep breath for me now... Hold it... Now blow it all out, all out, all out... Good—deep breath in again...”

That turned me all fuzzy and buzzy; things went far easier.

I was still a bit spaced as we walked back to the house. I had time to shower and clean up before dinner.

I guess I wasn’t out of the weeds just yet—I had pasta for dinner while everyone else had fish, veggies, and rice. Still, the pesto tasted freshly made, with plenty of garlic. At least I was drinking water, rather than the colored stuff I’d had so far during the day.

Near the end of dinner, Annette had some news for me.

“We set up your new computer this afternoon. What should we do with your old one, and the printer and scanner?”

I wished for Linda or Bernadette’s hand on my back, that calming touch.

“Move them into the office so I can transfer the files. I’ll use the old printer and scanner.”

“We can get you new ones if you’d like,” she said.

I forced a smile. “No, I’d prefer the old ones. I spent a lot of time doing color calibration on them, and they’re very stable. The newer models don’t give you the performance or the repeatability of the older stuff. That’s very, very important to me in color work.”

She gave me an inquisitive look, so I spent a few minutes talking about the different color systems, additive and subtractive, different color models, and the problems involved in keeping green looking the same shade of green from the source through to a print or a display screen. I told them of friends in the wedding photography business who regularly sent in fabric swatches with print orders so the prints would match the shade the very picky bride selected.

That got nods of understanding. It also got us dessert. We all had orange sherbet; it was tangy and good; the first taste brought a pang from the glands in my neck and throat.

“Oh, I dropped off something this afternoon as well,” Ellen mentioned as she licked her spoon.

I raised an eyebrow.

She gave me a grin as she lasciviously took the spoon from her mouth. “A nice big 3-ring binder of some of the densest language I’ve ever seen. You have electronic copies as well.”

The thought of digging into that stuff was actually exciting. That must have showed, as Annette shuddered.

I chuckled a bit, shaking my head. I thought about suggesting we go through them together—in a lewd voice, but realized we’d end up doing that eventually.

As we left the table and headed out, I started walking back to the office. Linda caught up with me in the hallway. Her hand felt very comforting on my back. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

I sighed. Suddenly I felt exhausted. I leaned against the wall. “Beat,” I managed to say.

Linda and Bernadette helped me upstairs. I got ready for bed. I could barely keep my eyes open, but managed to say, “Please hold me...”

Linda tucked me in, holding me for the few moments it took for me to go to sleep.

I woke in the middle of the night—all that fluid I’d been drinking had to go somewhere, and it wanted to go now. I made it to the bathroom, sitting for an extended period of time.

I was still spacey as I stepped back into the hallway. It was almost like one of the nightmares I’d had. I saw the “Do not disturb” sign hanging on my door and paused. Should I go in? Why not, it’s my room. Is it? Someone else might have moved in. I knew I wasn’t supposed to go into a room when it had that kind of sign out. But it’s my room! I reached for the doorknob and those nightmarish feelings increased.

With a shudder and a shake, I threw those feelings off. I looked both ways down the hallway. I moved my arms and legs—they moved freely, so I knew I wasn’t dreaming. I turned quickly, opened the door, and went in. I resisted the urge to turn on the light. I didn’t need it, I told myself. I closed the door and crawled back into bed—into an empty bed, a cold bed.

I woke to the alarm, rolled out of bed, and went to the bathroom, grabbing my exercise things on the way. I was the second one in the fitness center; Linda was already there. She smiled at me and I gave her a pained look. She started moving closer, but a bunch of people came in at the same time.

She worked with me during class. We spent most of the time stretching, especially hips and legs. While I enjoyed the work, especially being on my back and having someone work with me, something inside me was holding back. Even when we were relaxing at the end of class, it was hard to let go, even with Linda leaning over me, looking in my eyes.

She leaned over me, smiling softly, and pressed on my shoulders. I relaxed a little more, but was still caught on something. She frowned a little, a look of concern. I closed my eyes, trying to let go—that sounds so silly, and it was, trying to let go.

But I guess it worked, at least some. I floated and relaxed—with something twitching in the distance—twitching, uncomfortable.

Kendra didn’t keep me after class. Linda took my arm in hers as we walked back. I managed a wave to Suzanne—she gave me a pained look.

“What’s wrong, Rob?” Linda asked as we went in the back door to the house.

We ended up in her room. The words spilled out of me—waking up alone, the way I felt in the hallway struggling with that sign on my door, the feeling of something holding back, something uncomfortable, something scared.

“Will you let me hold you?” she asked.

I nodded. “I ... I feel six or seven again...” I whispered.

She smiled, taking me to her bed. She pulled down the covers. I slipped out of my shoes and got in.

“Close your eyes,” she whispered.

I closed my eyes. I heard her moving about the room, her door opening, but not very far as it soon closed again. I heard something like drawers or doors, and then she was sliding into bed next to me.

She leaned over on top of me a little. My arms went around her. Her hands went around me, cradling me to her, pulling my head between her bare breasts. I trembled a little and she paused.

“I’m scared...” I whispered.

She held me gently, rocking a little. “There’s nothing to be scared about. You’re safe in my arms. I’m going to hold you just like this until you know you’re safe...”

It was like waiting for a muscle to uncramp, so slow and painful. Eventually I snuggled in, kissing her softness and warmth.

She offered me a nipple, which I accepted. She cradled me, speaking softly, helping me loosen the knots in my muscles, and the knots somewhere else as well, the knots that were holding me back.

Oh how I wanted to be filled with that scent again, to let it take me away... But she held me, whispering me down into softness in her arms, so slowly, so gently, until finally the scent did fill me, and I faded away...

I woke up in her arms. I held her, squeezed her, taking in her scent. This time her caresses filled me with fire. She cooed for me to let go to her. I cried for her to help me; I didn’t know how. She taught me with her hands, her body, her voice, riding us to bliss, and back to comfort in her arms.

“We have time to shower before lunch,” she whispered in my ear.

“Together?”

“If you hurry,” she said, slipping out of my arms and getting out of bed.

That was the best shower I’d had in a long time. Drying off afterwards was fun as well. We separated to our rooms to get dressed.

When I stepped out into the hall though, Linda was nowhere to be seen. I knocked on her door—no answer. I headed down to lunch.

Tuesday is do-it-yourself day. We had a buffet-style thing set up in the kitchen. I was quite hungry, and built a sandwich as well as loading my plate with two different salads.

In the dining room, Annette and Suzanne were already seated, with Suzanne’s back to me. I walked over to her.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” I asked her.

She looked up with a surprised smile. “No! Please!”

I sat down. We hugged as I tried to put my napkin in my lap.

“They’re not guarding you?” she whispered to me conspiratorially.

“Guess not,” I muttered, trying the macaroni salad. It needed pepper and a little salt.

“What are you up to this afternoon? Feeling better?” she asked.

I nodded as I ate, trying not to wolf down my lunch—I was starved. “Moving files to a new computer, stuff like that.”

She nodded. “I might drop by for a while.”

“Good—don’t know if I’m in for the usual 3 o’clock routine or not.”

Deb came in with a plate and asked Suzanne about winter preparations for some of the buildings. They dived into details.

A hand on my shoulder—I turned to see Ellen sitting down next to me. I started to get up to help with her chair, but she said, “Don’t bother.”

“You’re looking much better,” she said once she was seated.

I nodded. “My appetite is back as well.”

Kendra came in, followed by Linda and Bernadette. I went back for some more macaroni salad. When I returned, Kendra told me, “Looks like you’re ready for a good workout this afternoon...”

The others chuckled a little at my plight. Bernadette said, “I’d go easy on him for another few days yet.”

Linda muttered, “I wouldn’t...” and that got more laughter.

Ellen wanted to know when I’d start looking at agreements. I told her I expected to start skimming through them as I moved files from one computer to the other. When she asked about photography, I told her of the series I wanted to do, and that I’d need the use of a cherry-picker. Other than being careful how and where it was parked, that didn’t seem to be a problem. Suzanne thought it would be fun.

I wanted to talk to her more, but she had to get back to her crew; with a smile she said that she’d catch up to me. As people drifted away from the table, Ellen leaned over and told me she was glad I was doing better.

Kendra must have heard that as she walked by, because she leaned over and said, “We’ll see how well you’re doing at three, sweetie.”

When I got to my office, a large flat-panel display graced the desk, the computer sitting to one side. The old system was on top of the old wood cabinet. Once I found my box of random cables, it took me about twenty minutes to get things cabled together.

The new box was fast, and already hooked up to the internet. We seemed to have a very fast connection, which was nice. I got the old box hooked up and started shoveling files across a fast ethernet connection.

And as I told Ellen I’d do, I started going through agreements. I read with a highlighter in one hand, and page tags handy. Things seemed to have a European influence. I wasn’t worried that I didn’t understand it all at first blush—there looked to be six major documents setting things up.

“Having fun?”

I looked up to see Kendra in the doorway. I looked at the clock in the upper right corner of the flat panel—quarter to three.

“Up to now,” I groaned, capping my hilighter and putting down the binder. The current batch of files would take another twenty minutes.

She laughed. “Body and mind together...”

“Okay, I’ll go change...”

“Don’t worry—we’re still taking it easy.”

I don’t want to know what all-out would be, if we were still taking it easy... She ran me on the treadmill, a slow build-up, then some sprints, then a long steady trot. I was quite happy to collapse on to the mats. We stretched for a while, then went into leg-lifts and abdominal work.

With most of the abdominal work, she did it right alongside me. And she’d be holding a pose, explaining to me what she wanted me to do, speaking so calmly and without effort, and I’d be shaking from the exertion...

We ended up with some serious stretches, things we hadn’t done before, things she hadn’t done to me before. Then it was over to Bernadette’s office, where I collapsed on the massage table once more. She put her hands on my back, pushed down as she whispered something, and I was gone.

I noticed a sore spot on my rump as I showered—another injection? I dried and dressed quickly so I could get down to the kitchen and help with dinner. Annette and Linda were there, along with Kathryn. When I volunteered to do the salad, Annette gave Linda a questioning look. Linda looked at her and said, “No problem.” Don’t quite know what that was about.

Kathryn made a very nice sauce to go over the ravioli. I was even allowed one glass of wine with dinner!

Deb wanted to know if I was going to volunteer for cleanup tonight. I wiped my mouth with my napkin and told her, “Nope, but I will clear my plate...” She gave me a frown and I stuck out my tongue at her. Ellen remarked, “Don’t stick it out unless you’re going to use it...” I gave her a raised eyebrow, leaned over, and tongued her ear lightly. She made very appreciative noises.

Back in the office, I’d pretty much gotten moved in to the new computer when Suzanne dropped by. She closed the door and sat down.

“It’s good to see you!” I said.

She smiled. “It’s good to see you as well—they’ve been keeping you pretty close for a few days.”

I shrugged. “Guess so. I’m feeling much better now, though.”

She leaned forward a bit, an intent look on her face. “What was it like?”

I sighed and shook my head. “Don’t think I’ve ever been that sick before. A bunch of us got food poisoning in college when I was an undergrad—some of my buddies ended up in hospital. I was just in agony for a few days. With this, I hurt from one end to the other, and pretty much every place in between—and the nightmares were ferocious.”

“Nightmares?”

“Yeah, nightmares, hallucinations, fever dreams, whatever you want to call ‘em—don’t think I’ve ever gone through anything like that. Well, maybe when I was doing the CPA boards, but that was different.”

“Nightmares?” she asked again.

“Yeah, I was little, and being chased. You know how you feel—your arms and legs don’t respond—it’s like you’re in molasses or something. I tried to do the usual things to wake myself up, but they didn’t work.”

“So what happened?”

“Don’t know—things resolved after a while. Bernadette and Linda were there to hold me, to comfort me. I wanted you to be there as well. But hey, that’s over, and I’m feeling a lot better—Kendra ran me on the treadmill today, and I think I did pretty well, not that I want her to hear that.”

Suzanne chuckled a bit. “I won’t tell, I promise.”

I looked at her. I wanted to change the subject. “You know, you’re one of the reasons I kept coming back to this place.”

“Oh really?” she said, leaning back and smiling.

It was good to see her smile. “Yes—and it seemed like you looked better and younger every time I came by.”

That didn’t have the effect I thought it would have. She turned cloudy and troubled, sitting up, moving nervously.

“What did I say?” I asked softly.

“Oh Rob... I hope I’ve done the right thing...”

“Suzanne, I’m very happy I’m here. I feel like part of a very special family.”

She shook her head, but smiled. “You are... I should go...”

I stood up as she did. “Why, Suzanne? Please...”

She gave me a perfunctory hug. Something told me not to press things. She turned and left, closing the office door after her. I walked over and re-opened it.

I sat down in the chair again. What the hell was going on? I knew I’d walked into a matriarchal society—to some extent I thought I’d been pulled in. How had I screwed up with her? Well, I’ve slept with more different women in the last week than I have in the last five years, how’s that for a start, I thought. But hell—I was “Project Bicycle,” right? To be ridden, right? Why was I here? I looked at the binder of agreements. Let’s dig in.

I went through them until about ten thirty. There were some definite oddities, but nothing as bad as I’d seen over the last few years. I shut things down with a sigh. I thought about heading upstairs to the rec room—why? I headed over to the house, and upstairs. I got ready for bed, and hung the “Privacy Please” sign outside my door before I went to bed.

About halfway through the exercise class Wednesday morning, it started dawning on me—I was a hell of a lot more flexible. I still didn’t have the abdominal strength (Kendra calls it “core strength”), but I was putting both palms on the floor with my legs straight. No way could I do that two weeks ago! I was more flexible all the way around, and my strength was definitely increasing. I still had a long way to go as far as balance was concerned—I couldn’t hold “tree” for shit, but damn—my hips, legs, even shoulders and back were so much more flexible.

When we started doing two-person stuff, I moved over to Suzanne, but Annette got to her first. I didn’t know how to interpret the look on Suzanne’s face.

Ellen grabbed me. We worked together, and it was fun. When we did the two-person version of Swan, it was hard for me to believe how much more open my hips were. Then she leaned down and bit the back of my neck as she held me. What a rush!

When we went to our backs for the relaxation part of the class, Ellen leaned over me. She slid her hands along the sides of my head as she whispered something, and I fell into a cloud.

When I woke up, folks were filtering out of the room. Suzanne was already gone.

“You’re awful tempting there on your back, you know,” said Kendra, walking up to me.

I sat up, and on impulse swung my right leg forward and my left leg back, trying to do splits. I was amazed—my bottom was about three inches from the floor, and as I breathed deep, I could feel myself sinking lower!

“Easy, take it easy,” Kendra said, stepping behind me and pulling me up a bit, her arms under mine and around my chest.

“I can’t believe this! I’ve never been this flexible!” I told her.

She chuckled. “Oh, you were, once upon a time.”

I let my head fall back as she held me. “You’re a miracle worker...”

She gave me a squeeze. “Okay, switch to the other side—let’s see how good you are that way.”

The other side wasn’t as loose, at least not at first.

“Is this something you want to work on?” she asked as she held me.

“If it involves you holding me, sure,” I told her.

She leaned over and kissed my neck.

She helped me stand.

“This is amazing,” I told her.

She shook her head, smiling. “You’re making great progress, but you need to be careful, especially now. If you overstretch, you could hurt yourself—especially your back. I don’t want you stretching, doing anything on your own, understand me? Only here, with one of us helping. I’m serious.”

“Yes, dear,” I said, holding out my arms for a hug. She stepped into my embrace.

She sighed as she held me. “Two or three more weeks—it takes time for strength to catch up with flexibility.”

“Thank you for taking care of me so well,” I whispered, giving her neck a kiss.

“Thank me later,” she rumbled, running her hands down my back to my bottom.

“I’ll do that...” I answered, kissing her neck again.

She dug fingers into my sides. “Just not now! I’m meeting with Ellen in half an hour!”

“Okay, meanie,” I said, and she tickled me some more.

I had a bagel and some juice for breakfast, then headed back to the office.

About ten Linda dropped by.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I said as she walked in. When she’d seated herself, I whispered, “I love being lost in your arms...”

She smiled and raised an eyebrow. “You hung out your sign last night. Anything wrong?”

I sat back with a sigh. “I don’t know. Suzanne and I were talking last night after dinner. I must have said something that put her off, although I don’t know what.”

Linda nodded. “What were you talking about?”

“Oh, she wanted to know how I was feeling, and what I’d gone through—I don’t think I’ve ever been sick like that before, especially the nightmares.”

Linda nodded again. “That bothered her?”

“I guess; I don’t know. She’s so special. Hell, everyone here is special, in their own way.”

Linda chuckled. “That’s a pretty safe response. She’s a complex person. What are you going to do next?”

I opened my mouth—I was going to wonder out loud if Suzanne had been the one behind the green cards—but Kendra had told me not to mention it to anyone. “Don’t know. Approach her gently, apologize for whatever I might have done. Suggestions?”

Linda shook her head. “Sounds like a good path to me. I’d go easy on the nightmare stuff though.”

I nodded. “Wish I could have. I’m glad you were there, you and Bernadette. God, I needed to be held last night—why the hell did I put up that sign? I should have gone to you, or Bernadette. Why do we pull away from what we need the most?”

She smiled, nodding now. “Why indeed? That’s an interesting exploration. We can work on that, if you want.”

Time for another sigh. “I feel like you’ve helped me with so much—I’ve changed so much in the short time I’ve been here. I’m much more flexible, mentally and physically, it seems. So many bonds and restrictions have fallen away...”

“Yes, pretty remarkable. We’re all very lucky.” She stood up. “Oh well, back to the grind.”

I stood and held out my arms. We hugged.

“I need to be held too,” she whispered in my ear.

Suzanne was definitely avoiding me. I tried approaching her at dinner, but her body language signaled very strongly. I whispered, “Please,” as I looked into her eyes. She turned away.

She practically bolted after dinner. I saw Linda and Bernadette exchanging glances. I made a mild pass at Deb, and was startled when Annette growled at me! I backed off, and Deb laughed, putting an arm around Annette.

I helped them arrange some of the prints in the rec room a little later; they were playing intimate games, and were in for an interesting night. Good for them. I spent a while on documents downstairs, and updating e-mail lists; I had a “family” e-mail address.

I headed to the house and hit the bathroom; a spot had been cleared on a shelf so I could leave my shaving kit, toothbrush and such in the bathroom.

When I left the bathroom and crossed the hall to my room, I was startled to see the “Privacy Please” sign on my door. My mind wobbled a bit—I know I took it down this morning, and it wasn’t there this afternoon when I changed for exercise, or after my massage when I came up to shower and change. I opened the door and went in.

In the light from the hall I could see that my bed was occupied. I closed the door quietly and undressed, folding my pants and putting them on the chair.

I left my usual T-shirt, the only thing I slept in, on the nightstand, and slipped into bed.

As I did, Linda turned over, holding her arms out for me. Oh, she was so warm! She pulled my head to her bosom, and I was engulfed in her warmth, softness, and that special scent. We held each other, made gentle yet passionate love, and held each other again. She woke me at least partially in the middle of the night and we made love again, our hearts pounding as we made the beast with two backs.

The alarm went off. I silenced it and slid over to her again, finding a nipple. She held me and I melted into her. When the alarm went off again, I whacked it and asked, “Want to join me for class?” I asked, kissing her forehead.

She smiled, not opening her eyes. “Not a chance—get out while you can, or I’ll join you right here...”

“Mmmm... Save that thought for the weekend,” I told her, moving my body away as a hand reached for me.

I was early to class, feeling great. Deb and Annette showed up a little late, looking like they’d had quite the night.

Kendra kept me after the others left; we did more strength work, a lot of it focusing on abdominals.

As we finished up, I asked her. “Was it Suzanne who did the green cards?”

Kendra looked surprised. “Why?”

I frowned. “I don’t like this. Suzanne has been avoiding me. I don’t know if I did something to get her upset, or what, but it definitely feels weird.”

Kendra wanted to know why, and that led into me describing the last conversation I’d had with Suzanne.

“I didn’t realize you had nightmares,” Kendra told me.

“Violent, from what I’m told—I guess they restrained me for a while—something was on my wrists.”

She shook her head. “The times I watched you, you were quite peaceful.”

“I’ve never had nightmares like that... I had some when I was going through the CPA boards...”

“Really? Why?”

I raised my eyebrows. “It’s an intense multi-day exam, with a not-very-good pass rate. I kept having this one dream, almost nightmare—I was doing the boards, but the only thing I had to write with was a potato, and I couldn’t keep it sharp...”

She laughed. So did I. “Yeah, why a potato, I don’t know, but I had to write, and I tried writing with it, and couldn’t keep it sharp...”

As I thought about it, remembering that recurring dream, things tumbled into place...

“Shit!” I shouted. I knew who wrote the damn cards. All of a sudden, I had a bunch of questions, and I was going to get some answers. I got up and ran to the door.