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Re- orientation
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Archive-Name: reorientation
Reorientation
Chapter 1
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 my underwear. As I carried the
bicycle to the car, I hoped it wasn't noticeable but didn't dare look.
Trying to get the bicycle into the trunk wasn't easy, 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.
"Very well, let me see what we have available," he said and
disappeared.
"I don't need five nights!" Susan said, quietly.
"That's okay," I said. "You can stay five nights and I'll pay for it;
if you want to leave sooner, then it won't cost me any more. But I'll
gladly let you stay that long, or even longer if you want to call and
arrange it." I fumbled around in my pocket, trying to find one of my
cards, so she'd be able to call me at work. I hadn't really thought
about it, but I clearly 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
you the only way I can." She squeezed again and, with eager swiftness,
began unbuckling my pants. "Besides," she added, laughing, "this way I
won'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 might
be able to shoot well enough to hit me.
"Come on, Bob," she urged. "You're not going to run now." I glanced
over and saw the gun pointed right at me still. Besides, there's no
traction on gravel. She could shoot me two or three times before the
car even really got moving.
I slammed the automatic transmission into Park and pulled out the
keys. Susan led me to the front door, always behind me now. Every
time I snuck a look, the gun was pointed right at me. 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. It can
inflict great pain--"
As she said that, the most incredible pain imaginable flared up all
through my body, but it felt centered in my crotch, almost as if someone
was crushing my genitals between two cinder blocks.
"--or intense pleasure--"
As she said this, the pain switched instantly to the feeling of the
most intense orgasm possible, with every muscle in my body happily
joining 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, depending on
who you are reacting to. It appears that we need to set the pain
threshold a little lower, though." Jan nodded and made some adjustment
on the remote-control gadget.
Susan then bent over and took my limp penis in her mouth again. The
erection flared up quickly, but so did the pain. Within seconds, I was
whimpering with pain and pleasure combined. The combination was
truly excruciating. My erection oscillated, up and down, up and down.
Susan stopped suddenly and turned away.
"That 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 back, found my buttocks, and pulled me
deeply into her, squeezing hard. The pleasure peaked 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 failures wasn't given, but I was determined to be number
3). It was explained that all full members of the WFM must have
successfully conditioned their partner and then assisted another
member with her conditioning, as well. There were some bonus
membership options for those who assisted more than once. I gave up
on that and started thinking again about escape.
My thoughts returned, however, again and again to the intense pleasure
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.
When I had finished, Susan picked up the tray and placed it near the
stairs, then walked back to where I was sitting, rudely ignoring her
(my only real form of revenge that I could think of). She sat down
next to me and her hand reached for my limp penis, stroking it gently.
The erection started, and so did the pain. I pushed her away, rather
roughly. "Don't do that! That hurts!" I said.
She looked really sad, and said, "Sorry." She moved back closer, but
didn't try to touch me, as the erection and the pain subsided. She
began whispering. "I just wanted to take advantage of the situation a
little bit. I really did like the way you tasted, and wanted to taste
you again. Are you sure you couldn't manage the pain, just once, for
me?"
"Geez, are you crazy? Do you know what it feels like?" I said, louder
than I meant to.
"Well, no, not really..."
"Well, forget it! If I didn't have this damn thing, I'd *love* to let
you taste me again, but not with this damn thing!"
She looked disappointed, but didn't pursue the issue. She took the tray
back upstairs and closed the door.
A few minutes later, Jan came downstairs, now dressed in something
comfortable and sloppy. Despite that, I could sense her appealing,
slender form through the slightly translucent material, and my
erection began before I could even think about the implications. But
this time, pleasure went along with it, and the erection firmed up
quickly as I walked towards her, stopping only when I reached the red
arc.
"Happy to see me, I see," she said, glancing down. "That's good." She
set down a portable television, just far enough outside the arc that I
wouldn't be able to reach it, and plugged in a VCR that was already
sitting nearby. Then she walked across to where I was and put her arms
around me, snuggled up close and gave me a big kiss. I returned the
kiss passionately, rubbing her back through the material. I could
feel my penis throbbing, my desire rising exponentially. The pleasure
from the stimulator was feeding my arousal.
I allowed my hands to roam from her back to her buttocks, and the
pleasure from the stimulator diminished. I returned them, and the
pleasure increased. But my penis was aching, my balls felt swollen,
the need for release was intense, so I moved my hands around to Jan's
breasts. Instantly, the pleasure was replaced by moderate pain; I put
my hands back where they had been, and broke the kiss; mild pleasure
returned.
"You see, I'm not in the mood for sex right now," she said. "You'll
just have to learn to sense the subconscious cues that tell you when
I am and when I'm not. So right now, you can get quite nice pleasure
from holding me, and kissing me, as long as it stays non-sexual."
At some level I was angry, this damned programming! But the pleasure
was undeniable, and so I kissed her some more, fondled her back, and
noticed that the erection was going away fast, but the pleasure from
the stimulator continued. Eventually it began to taper off, and Jan
broke away.
"Let me set this up, and then I have to go back upstairs for a while,"
she said. She turned on the portable TV, and then the VCR. The screen
lit up and showed a man and a woman, lying on a waterbed, rubbing at
each others' genitals. There was some moaning and a lot of wet
kissing. It looked pretty realistic, rather unlike the fake stuff you
see in X-rated films, and was rather stimulating.
Up came my erection and *zap* came the pain; I looked away.
"Turn it off," I said.
"You'll get used to it," Jan said. "Pretty soon you'll realize that
this stuff isn't really stimulating at all. In the meantime, you'll
probably have to be reminded a few times." She smiled. I looked back
at the screen, and now she was sucking at him, and he was looking
ecstatic. Up came my erection again, and *zap* the pain took it away
again. I endeavored to ignore the screen. Meanwhile, Jan had been placing
posters around the walls, all of my favorite nude posters that had been
put away in the garage for so long. I looked away before even taking
the chance of getting aroused by them, although happy thoughts of
masturbating while looking at some of them almost sabotaged my
intention to avoid any sign of arousal.
Jan came back over by me, and frustration and annoyance finally
overcame me, rather abruptly. I reached to grab her, to shake her, to
hit her possibly, to get her to stop this damned programming! As soon
as I moved, the pain hit, full intensity. I found myself writhing on
the cold, hard concrete floor. When the pain stopped, Jan was right
there to help me back to the mattress, and laid down with me and
rubbed my back and stroked my hair until the anger went away and I
could control my movements again. I rolled over to face her, and
noticed that she had removed her clothing and was now naked. The
series of frustrations could not dampen my arousal; up came the
erection, and *zap* came the pain.
"I'm still not the in mood," she said. "Nakedness does not equal
readiness." She kissed me, and stroked my back and hair some more, and
the pain began to return slowly even though I had no erection.
Finally I got the message; I put my arms around her and began to
stroke her back, too, and kissed her. The pain disappeared, pleasure
returned.
Damn the programming! I thought. And cold, hard fear settled into my
stomach, for I was afraid it was already working.
Just then, Susan opened the door and came downstairs, also nude. My
fear really hit me; I found myself immediately looking away until I
was sure I could look at her without arousal.
"Hi!" she said. "It's bed-time!"
She turned off most of the lights and then, to my amazement, came over
to where we lay on the mattress, and snuggled up against my back. My
erection was almost instantaneous, and the pain, too. The erection
disappeared. I forgot about Susan behind me.
"All we're trying to do, Bob, is to reorient your sexual urges. I like
most of your desires, I just don't always like who you direct them
at," accompanied by slight pain, "or when you want them satisfied,"
accompanied by slight pain again, "or what you want to do with them."
(Pain.) "So we're reorienting you to want sex when I want sex,"
(Pleasure), "to direct sex and sexual thoughts only at me,"
(Pleasure), "and to want only the things that I want to do."
(Pleasure.) "In exchange for that, though, quite naturally, I'll
always been in the mood when you are," (Strong Pleasure), "and we'll
always want to do the same things," (Strong Pleasure), "and I'll
always be an enthusiastic sex partner." (Strong Pleasure.) "Doesn't
that seem perfect? That's what we're going to do."
I mumbled something noncommital, but it sounded pretty reasonable, in
a skewed sort of way.
"What we're going to do tonight," Jan continued, "and every night for
a while, is to orient you on my scent, my taste, my feel, my looks,
and my voice and sounds. So, to start, we're going to have to
blindfold you."
"Damn it--!" I shouted, but the pain hit before I finished.
"Please, Bob," she said. "Don't make this difficult." She held up a
strip of silky-looking black cloth. "May I put this on you?"
"What difference does it make what I say? All you have to do is hit me
with that pain and I'll do whatever you want, so get it over with."
"Oh, Bob," she sighed. "We only inflict pain when you do something
improper. If you behave properly, you feel no pain. Men *have* to
learn to control their lust, and you really will be happier
afterwards."
She hesitated a few seconds, then tied the silky black cloth over my
eyes.
What ensued then was pleasure and pain, over and over again. First
Susan would rub my penis, and if I got an erection I'd feel a jolt of
pain, and if I didn't, I'd get an upswelling of pleasure. Then Jan
would rub my penis, and I'd get a jolt of pain if I didn't get an
erection, and a mild dose of pleasure if I did. Then one would place
her pussy at my mouth, and then the other. Then they'd stroke my
nipples. Then they'd take off the blindfold and have me look at them
in the low light. Then they'd snuggle up against me so that I couldn't
really feel which was which, but their differing scents would give it
away. Finally, they'd tell me little sexual stories that would get
anyone hot and ready. Then things got combined; Jan would rub my penis
and snuggle up close and talk to me, or Susan would remove my
blindfold and stroke my nipples and put her pussy by my mouth for me
to lick. Everything was accompanied by pleasure or pain, and it became
more intense. If I complained, I got pain. If I stopped reacting,
they'd try something new that I couldn't resist, or apply the pain
until I began to react again. If I tried to follow through on my
increasing sexual urge, I got pain.
At first, if I sensed that it was Susan stimulating me, I would push
her away to avoid the pain that came with the accompanying erections.
Later I got pain for pushing her away; I had to learn to prevent the
erection without pushing her away. I also started to get pain if I
didn't provide Jan with proper stimulation in return for whatever
she was doing.
Finally, Jan said, "That should be enough for tonight. We'll give you
a test tomorrow night, and see how you do. Meanwhile, I need to use
the bathroom." She got up and went upstairs. Susan, who had been
rubbing my penis, which was staying determinedly limp, and kissing me
and whispering erotic thoughts into my ear a moment before, sat up and
said, "Bob! Now's my chance; I want to taste you again! Can you get
it up for me?"
"Are you kidding me?" I said. "After what I've been through, I'd just
as soon push you down a storm sewer."
"Please, Bob!" she said, a little louder. "It won't take but a second;
I know how ready you are. I'm hot to go, too, look." She rubbed her
fingers at her crotch and showed me the wetness, and the scent was
strong and very enticing. She slowly ran her fingers down to my lips,
where I licked cautiously. There was no pain, so I licked more eagerly.
My erection came up, and the pain began, but it was minor and I was
too frustrated, too ready, to pass up the chance. She smiled, and then
turned around and began to lick and suck my penis. The pain increased
as my erection firmed up, but it was never quite unbearable until she
put her hand to my balls and began to squeeze lightly.
I gagged out some sound that let her know the pain was more than I
could handle, and she immediately stopped and looked at me. "No, no,"
I said. "Keep going! Just don't put your hand on my balls!"
She started right back to sucking and I could feel the relief coming,
the pressure building, the orgasm coming, but the pain became too
much. "Stop, stop!" I said. "Please, don't!" She wouldn't stop,
though, intent on tasting me again, I suppose, and I pushed her away.
She looked at me, with tears in her eyes. "Please, Bob! I just want to
taste you again!"
"I can't stand it, don't you see." My erection was shrinking, along
with the pain. I looked at her, noticing for the first time in a
couple of hours the curve of her breasts, the shape of her waist, and
my erection began to return; the pain increased again. I rolled over
onto my side, and began to cry.
The door opened and Jan came back downstairs; I was instantly quiet.
Susan got up and said, "Well, I guess I need to pee, too." She went
upstairs and the door closed. Jan laid down by me and began to stroke
my arms and face. Despite my anger, my erection popped right up, and
the pleasure came immediately. I rubbed her back, snuggled close, and
kissed her passionately. Just as I had been conditioned to do. Her
hand went to my balls, and she rubbed lightly. I went on rubbing her
back and kissing her, pulling her a little closer, and the pleasure
went away and pain began.
Intuition struck; she must be in the mood now! I ran my hands down to
her buttocks, and the pain went away. I moved one around to cup one of
her firm, small breasts, and the pleasure returned. I rubbed the
nipple and it became hard; I kissed her more deeply. I moved one hand
to her slick, wet pussy, and she wriggled with pleasure. I started to
pull her to me, to put my throbbing, over-ready penis into that wet
opening, and the pain returned. I got the hint; I went more slowly.
More rubbing, more kissing, more breast fondling. Susan returned
during this time, and her presence caused my erection to diminish
almost instantly. Jan noticed, and slight pain began. I ignored Susan,
my erection firmed up, and finally Jan started pulling at me in a way
that said, "Put it in!"
I again got on top, not my favorite position but definitely Jan's,
and thrust in hard and fast, and accelerated. Jan's moans came faster
and louder, but little jolts of pain stopped me several times from
coming before she was ready. Finally, the signal (which I'd almost
forgotten): she pulled me in deeply, squeezing my buttocks, hard.
Two more thrusts did it; I came, and came, and came, the natural and
artificial pleasure almost unbearably strong. Jan was bucking and
thrashing and gasping and moaning so that I was sure she was pleased,
too.
Jan rolled me onto my side, my penis still inside her, and squeezed me
tight. I kissed her, and felt genuinely happy for a few moments. Then
Susan snuggled up against my back and what was left of my erection was
gone in an instant. I suddenly felt angry again, but it was weak and
remote. Jan's pleasure and mine had been so intense that anger was
hard to find in the midst of post-coital relaxation. Jan sighed,
snuggled up even closer, and said, "Thank you, my love."
"Thank you, too, my love," I responded. I couldn't decide if there was
any sarcasm left in me; I guess I really meant it, for the pleasure had
been so intense.
"Why don't you kiss Susan good night, too?" Jan asked.
"I thought you don't like me to kiss other women," I responded.
"I want you to kiss other women like you would kiss your own sister,
if you do," she said, and gave me a squeeze. I turned over and gave
Susan a quick kiss on the cheek. "No, not like that," Jan admonished.
"I want you to really kiss her, but without arousal or erotic
thoughts."
I started to protest, but the pain started, so I did it. And I found
that I could kiss her, tongue-involvement and all, without getting the
slightest bit aroused. When I'd had enough, I rolled back over and
began to kiss Jan again. Despite three orgasms in one day, I was
feeling horny again (too much frustration and conditioning, I
reasoned) and started to fondle Jan's breast. The pain hit quickly,
reminding me that she wasn't in the mood anymore. My hand slipped
around to her back, rubbing gently, and she sighed and seemed asleep
almost immediately. At my back, Susan's breathing became slow and
regular, and I decided I was the only one awake. I suddenly noticed
the TV over in the corner, showing two women doing their very best to
please one man; despite it all, my penis began to firm up again, and
the pain kicked in. I closed my eyes and willed myself to fall asleep.
Tears leaked out of my eyes briefly, and I ignored the sounds of
sucking, moans, and rhythmic motion coming from the television.
Chapter 4
Perhaps a dozen times during the night and early morning hours, either
Jan or Susan would wake me up by rubbing or licking my nipples or my
penis, or by kissing me. The first few times it was Susan, and I got
powerful jolts of pain for reacting to her; the next few times it was
Jan, and I got jolts of pain for failing to react. Eventually I got
this sorted out, so that my ability to recognize the source of such
stimulation became quite subconscious. After a dozen or so
repetitions, I could wake up to Susan's attentions and say, somewhat
annoyed, "Stop that; I want to sleep," or Jan's attentions and respond
enthusiastically, and say something like, "I love it when you do
that."
When I finally woke up normally, without Susan or Jan waking me, I
realized that I was alone and there was a faint voice speaking.
"--you can focus your pleasure on your one woman..."
It stopped almost before I was aware of it. Sleep conditioning! They'd
thought of everything.
The day was fairly routine; I noticed the posters but didn't react, I
watched the television for a while as various couples and groups went
through multiple and repetitious variations on every sexual activity
I'd ever heard of, without reacting. Susan brought me my breakfast,
and I said, "Why don't you put some clothes on?"
She looked at me oddly, and left.
Jan checked on me several times during the day, and brought me some
books and magazines to read. There were Playboy and Penthouse and
Newsweek and Time and erotica novels and history books and all sorts
of stuff. I spent much of the day reading and lying around. I didn't
notice right away, but every time I would start to look at one of the
erotic magazines or read one of the erotic books, the pain would
begin, low intensity -- as if someone were squeezing my balls just
hard enough to hurt. I found myself reading only the non-erotic
materials before dinner arrived.
When Jan brought me dinner, dressed normally, as she had brought me
lunch, I asked her, "How does this stupid thing," pointing at the
stimulator on my neck, "know when I'm reading Playboy? And how does it
know when you're in the mood?"
She smiled. "There's a video camera; someone watches you all the time
to set the right levels and to decide between pleasure and pain. I tell
whoever's got the control whether I'm in the mood, or not."
"Huh," I said. By that point, I wasn't even particularly concerned about
the loss of privacy.
She stopped the VCR and pulled out the tape. I had noticed that the tape
repeated itself automatically, rewinding at the end and starting over
at the beginning, about every six hours. She put in a new tape and started
it; it was a tape of Jan and me from some weeks earlier. I watched in
fascination for a few seconds before Jan put her arms around me and
started fondling my buttocks. Without even thinking about it, I knew
she wasn't in the mood, so I rubbed her back and neck and stroked her
hair, kissing her all the while and listening to the sounds of us on
the television.
"Thank you, my love," she said as she pulled away and went back upstairs.
I sat down to watch the new video tape and quickly began to get aroused,
watching Jan looking pleased with the attention I had given her. As my
erection grew, so did the pleasure from the stimulator; shortly I had
a firm, throbbing erection.
I put my hand on my penis, intending to masturbate at least a little,
perhaps not to orgasm, and medium-intense pain hit instantly. I jerked
my hand away, and the pleasure returned. I tried again, and the pain
returned.
"Damn! I can't even do myself?" I yelled. There was no answer. I
continued to watch Jan being pleased by nipple-sucking and
pussy-rubbing in the tape. I tried to figure out where the video
camera was, then turned and faced the other direction and, very
casually, put my hand into my lap. Eventually I decided it wouldn't
be noticed, and began to rub my less intense erection again, and the
pain hit instantly.
"Damn you!" I yelled.
The rest of the evening passed normally, until Jan arrived for
bed-time, turning off most of the lights. "Please let me put this
blindfold on you tonight without fussing," she said. "I so hate to see
you inflicting pain on yourself by resisting."
I grumbled but agreed and she placed the blindfold, then told me to
lie down on the mattress. Jan began rubbing my penis, which came
instantly erect, and fondling my balls in just the way I like best.
"Do you like this?" she asked. I stated emphatically that I did.
Shortly I realized that Susan had come into the basement, very
quietly, for suddenly it was her mouth kissing me, even though Jan
continued to rub my cock and had started on my nipples. I turned my
head away.
Jan stopped for a moment and said, "My wonderful husband!" and a jolt
of intense pleasure drove the message home.
For the next hour or two, Jan provided a nearly constant stream of
pleasure for me with her hands and pussy and mouth, and every once in
a while Susan would do something, and I'd notice and pull away, or ask
her to stop, and Jan would praise me and I'd get a jolt of pleasure.
Finally, Susan left and Jan removed my blindfold and she snuggled up
against me, rubbed my belly, and sighed.
Almost instantly I had a firm erection, and I was rubbing her buttocks
and breasts and teasing her pubic hairs in a way she likes, and she
was rubbing my back enthusiastically and started to suck my nipples.
How did I know, I wondered, that she was suddenly in the mood? Her
tongue was bumping against mine, her nipples were really hard, and she
starting rubbing her pussy against my leg. I started to pull her on
top but remembered that she didn't like that, and so I rolled up on
top of her and jammed my penis into her wet, tight vagina. We thrashed
around, squeezed each other, and the only reminder I had of the
stimulator was two or three times it jolted me mildly with pain to
keep me from coming before Jan did.
And when she did, having first signaled by pulling me in, hard, it
was the most intensely satisfying feeling I'd ever had as I came, too.
Jan fell asleep quickly. Sometime during the night, Susan joined us,
and I was awakened perhaps a half dozen times during the night by ball
fondling, or nipple or penis licking, or neck rubbing, sometimes by
Jan and sometimes by Susan. It got so that I barely woke up if Susan
did anything, rolling over or pushing her away, but came instantly
awake to respond to whatever Jan wanted of me. Always I could tell,
and my penis seemed to know, too, that she wasn't in the mood for sex,
just touching and cuddling. And it made me very happy to comply.
Once during the night, I awoke on my own. I glanced at Susan, then
turned to look at Jan. The sight of her really turned me on, but I
didn't want to wake her. I decided to try, one more time, rubbing
myself. I was snuggled up close enough that I figured the camera
wouldn't be able to see, so my hand went to my growing erection and
stroked. The pain came instantly; I grunted and went back to sleep,
still admiring what I could see of Jan's luscious body.
In the morning, Susan and Jan were gone. I was left alone the entire
day, with a different tape in the VCR, but I barely noticed it. Jan
came in with breakfast and lunch, but only stayed a short while, both
times dressed in very sexy outfits but I knew, somehow, that she
wasn't in the mood. When she came in with dinner, she was dressed in a
very tight shirt and very tight, very short shorts, that I had never
seen before. I admired her, verbally and visually, and noticed that
my slight erection was accompanied by mild pleasure from the
stimulator. Jan seemed pleased to be praised for her appearance.
When I finished dinner, she took the tray away, placed it on the
stairs, and came over to me. She gave me a kiss and rubbed one of my
nipples, and suddenly I was getting an erection, suddenly kissing her
back passionately, suddenly feeling her wonderful breasts through that
tight shirt. She was in the mood again, I could tell. But how? I
stopped wondering and proceeded to undress her, slowly, while we
kissed and fondled.
With a quick smile, she lay on the mattress, face down, and stuck her
petite, beautiful butt in the air. "I want you to do me in the ass,"
she said.
"You do?" I asked, startled, as much at her request as at her way of
expressing it. "You never did before. I've asked!"
"Go for it, Bob!" she said, and wiggled.
I got down on hands and knees, and realized that I wasn't going to have
to do anything about lubrication; the whole head of my penis was already
wet. I started to place it inside her anus and the stimulator immediately
gave me medium pain. I stopped. "I thought you wanted me to!"
"Well, I know how much you like it..." she said hesitantly.
I started to try again, and the pain returned. I stopped again and
watched my erection subside.
"I don't want to," I said quietly.
She rolled over and looked unhappy. "But I want to please you," she
said.
"You please me lots, honey," I said. "But I don't want to 'do you in
the ass' anymore."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "What do you want to do?" She started to
rub my nipples and lightly touched my limp penis. To my total amazement,
my erection came back within a few seconds, and suddenly I was in the
mood again, and more so.
I lay down on the mattress, my cock sticking up in the air, and said,
"I want you to suck me." I started to say, "like Susan does," but
almost choked at the thought. She smiled, licked my nipples for a few
seconds while she fondled my stiff penis, and then started sucking.
Pain began to grow, slowly, as this proceeded. I kept wondering why,
but it wasn't very bad at first and so I tried to ignore it. When it
got to be distracting, I started trying things -- rubbing her legs,
her pussy, her nipples where they were hanging down, as she ran her
lips all up and down my penis. Little clues led me to believe that she
wanted pussy attention, so I pulled her over a little closer so I'd be
able to reach her better with my hand. I was surprised to find that
her pussy ended up right near my face; intuition implied that she'd
like something a little more oral.
I helped place her leg over my head, so her pussy was right at my
mouth, and I began to lick her. The pain disappeared instantly, and
pleasure washed over me in waves. She sucked and I licked and sucked
and pretty soon I was ready to come, but little jolts of pain now and
then reminded me again that I was not to come until Jan was ready. Jan
started to shift her weight in a way that I interpreted as wanting me
to get on top, so we shifted things around so that she was lying on
her back and I was straddling her face. It suddenly occurred to me
that I wouldn't get my usual signal under these circumstances, when
her pussy suddenly pressed up against my face and I responded with a
rapid acceleration of licking. She writhed and moaned and squeezed my
balls the way I like and I came, too, shuddering.
She pulled away, turned around, pulled me back down to the mattress,
and started kissing me deeply, and the pleasure from the stimulator
started up again. I found that I actually enjoyed the taste of my own
semen, with the stimulator to help.
I fell asleep in her arms. During the night, Susan and Jan again woke
me up in no seeming pattern, but I barely noticed what Susan was
doing. Jan wasn't again in the mood, but I was ecstatically happy that
she wanted me to hold her, cuddle her, and kiss her.
The next morning, Jan asked if I'd like to take a shower. I responded
that I would without thinking, and she took my hand and started
leading me towards the stairs. I stopped, abruptly, right at the red
arc.
"Don't worry, Bob," she said. "The stimulator is still there, but it
no longer tries to keep you inside the red arc." I hesitated still,
but eventually managed to take a step past the arc, and there was no
pain!
I realized suddenly that the posters were gone, the television was
gone, the VCR was gone!
We went upstairs to our bathroom, and undressed. I assumed that Jan
was going to shower with me (and I needed a shower badly), but
strangely this produced no erection, no erotic thoughts. I was
thoroughly programmed; she wasn't in the mood, and I could tell.
We soaped and rinsed, and I washed my hair. The stimulator,
apparently, was waterproof.
When we got out, I dried Jan off, as she likes, and she dried me off.
When she was done, she took the towels and tossed them towards a
laundry basket, and turned to face me. Her arms went around me, and I
hugged her back, and she sighed. We kissed a little, and then she went
and got dressed. "You should get dressed, too, honey," she said. I was
surprised but willing.
"You shouldn't go to work today, though," she said, after I was
dressed, "because you look like you haven't slept much. Tomorrow you
can go."
"It hasn't been two weeks," I said, somewhat surprised. "I thought
you meant to keep me in the basement for two weeks!"
"Oh, well," she said, and blushed. "Two weeks is what it takes to
handle a pretty hard case. You weren't really so bad. Susan had a
pretty hard time getting you to give in to your lust, after all."
The memory of my encounter with Susan along the highway came back to
me, and I felt genuine anger at myself for the way I had been; trying
to pretend that I wasn't lusting after her when I stopped to help her
by the road, knowing I was feeling guilty because I intended not to
tell Jan about it, secretly wishing she would be more plain about
wanting me. I started to cry.
"It's okay, truly, Bob," Jan said, hugging me again. "You've just been
reoriented now, and we'll both be happier."
I squeezed her, hard, and stopped crying. She rubbed my back, and her
hands roamed down to my hips, and suddenly I had an erection, suddenly
I was pulling her clothes off and she was pulling mine off, and we
slowly but quickly ended up on the floor, with me on top, passionately
kissing and thrusting and, eventually, thrashing around and coming in
great waves of ecstacy. I could feel the pleasure from the stimulator,
the first sensation I'd noticed from it all morning.
When we were done, and the kissing had calmed down, and our breathing
was pretty much back to normal, Jan laughed quietly, then reached to
my penis and removed the elastic band. I expected horrible pain, but
nothing happened. She then removed the stimulator from my neck, and
again there was no pain.
"Well, Bob, I don't think you need these anymore." She tossed them into
a trash can.
"Well, you know," I said, "that pleasure mode could be pretty handy.
I think I'll miss it the next time we make love, I'm so used to it."
She laughed quietly again. "Susan and Ted took the real stimulator
away with them early this morning, Bob, after she replaced it with a
dummy," Jan said. "The pleasure you felt this time was all in your
memory, and you will always feel it, even without the stimulator, from
now on. I don't want you addicted to the stimulator. I want you
addicted to me!"
And she was right.
Now, whenever I see attractive women, I find myself either unaware or
else there's a slight pain in my crotch, like someone squeezing my
balls just hard enough to hurt. And I don't pester Jan for sex when
she's not interested anymore, either. But when she is in the mood, and
I can always tell, instantly (and I'm still not sure how), we have the
most amazing, satisfying sex anyone could ever want. Sometimes we go
ten days without feeling that it's been too long, and sometimes we do
it three times in as many hours. I never even think about being with
another woman; sexually, whatever Jan wants is what I want.
And she was right.
We are both much happier now.
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