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Drug Trial Ch. 01

By: HandsInTheDark



[Readers of Becoming Marie won't find the same depth of character and involved plot here. This is more about the sex. Like becoming Marie, it has the theme of forced eroticization of an attractive woman by unscrupulous men. If you're a woman and this story makes you warm, wet and squirmy, it's done everything I wanted. ]

*

I wake up suddenly, unable to see, blindfolded, and I'm hanging by my wrists, with a pole along my back. I have no idea how I got here.

I shriek and stretch out with my legs, hoping to find a floor beneath me.

I find something, two small surfaces, though I have to really stretch down with my toes to get the pressure off my wrists.

I'm naked. My shriek turns to whimpers. I'm standing, barely, with my back to a metal pole, with my wrists up over my head in what feel like manacles, and I can't see anything. I shift, and realize there's a chain or cable around my knees, so I can't kick forward or reach out with my leg. There's one at my throat and under my breasts, as well. On tiptoes, holding my weight, they lie loosely on my skin. If I relax my legs, the one under my breasts acts like an uncomfortable bra.

Chains. Blindfold. Bondage. Where am I?

I whimper again, and whisper "Hello? Anyone? Help me!"

A deep male voice answers... with a chuckle. Nearby.

I shriek again. "Let me go!"

Movement. Suddenly I realize there's a hand between my thighs, a click, a buzzing...

A vibrator. It's been positioned so that if I keep up on tiptoe, it doesn't touch me. If I relax my legs even a little... I settle right onto it. I shriek and try to twist away from it, but there's only purchase for my toes in two tiny spots, so I either stand just right and stretch, or I swing right back on top of the vibrator.

"Bastard! Let me go! Who are you! Michael, if it's you I swear-"

"You don't know me," the voice answers. It's not Michael's voice, or anyone I recognize. Michael wasn't on this business trip anyway.

"Let me go!"

"If I were you, I'd shut up, before something actually bad happens."

"What do you want from me?" I whimper.

"We're experimenting on you. Drug testing. Didn't you sign the consent form?" He laughs, evilly.

"Oh gods," I whisper. "No!"

I hear him move behind me. Then his hands settle on my breasts. I gasp, afraid to speak.

"Nice," he says. "I really appreciate that they get pretty ones in for the tests. I bet the guys over in data reduction jerk off to the videos."

I try to twist away from his hands, but with the chains on me I can't get far, and then his fingers trap my nipples, hard. I stop twisting, abruptly.

"Here's a hint," he says. "If you just try to keep your legs tense like that all that time, eventually you'll lose control of them completely and then there's no escape from the vibrator. You need to get into a rhythm -- up, down, up, down... to give your legs a rest. You'll get the hang of it. No pun intended."

"Bastard. When my boyfriend finds you-"

"He won't. If he does, he'll die. People will die if you ever talk about this, too. This kind of drug testing isn't exactly legal, sweetheart, and the guys running it expect to make billions on it if it goes well. There's big, big money in horny girls... They aren't going to let a few talkative idiots mess it up for them. So you be a good girl-" his fingers trace my nipples, lightly now- "and then nobody has to end up as fish food. Get me?"

I can feel tears trickling into the blindfold. I bite my lip to keep words in.

"That's the way," he says, softly. "You're scared out of your mind, but listen, the testing's going well. They've really worked the kinks out. Just let shit happen to you, without a fuss, and you'll end up back on the street with nothing but a few sore joints and some wild memories. It doesn't have to be worse than that. But if you're difficult... you follow?"

"Fucking bastard!" I whisper.

"I wish. But I'm not supposed to get cock into you. Cock doesn't get reproducible results. Get the joke, sweetheart? Well, the science boys think it's funny. Ok, I'm going to put the wires on. Don't start freaking out, it's just adhesive and it comes off without a problem."

He attaches one wire to each nipple, and one to my belly. And then without warning, he slides something round and smooth up into my slit. I scream. It's thick, but slides in easily -- his hands on my nipples had made me wet. I feel my face burn in shame.

"Easy, bitch. It's just one of those vibrating egg things, kind of. Now I'm going to tie on the bikini bottom... that's just so you can't squeeze the egg out. There... see? If you're good, you might earn the bikini top, too, eventually..." He laughs.

I hear a click, and then he says "Ready for the wire test."

Suddenly both my nipples, and the egg up inside me, are buzzing violently. I shriek again.

"Test good. Dosing her now."

I moan in fear and try to twist, but he gets behind me and jabs a needle in my ass. I go cold with fear.

"Ok, babe, you're almost ready. I'm going to put headphones on you, so this is goodbye for now. See you afterwards."

Headphones go on, with clips in my hair so I can't shake them off. Then he pats my ass, and, I guess, moves off. I can't tell. I can't see or hear anything. My legs are beginning to tremble a little from the strain of staying off that vibrator.

Then there's a soft hiss from the headphones, and a faint click. And voices. A male voice and a female voice.

"Please," whispers the girl. "Please... can I stop?"

"You'll keep licking, slut," says a male voice, gravelly and deep. "Just the way you were told. Lick the balls, then along the shaft, then take the head in your mouth and press it with your tongue. Over and over."

"I've -- I've never had any in my mouth-"

There's a gasp, and a choking noise.

"You probably won't get any this time, either, not as inexperienced as you are. I hope your pussy learns faster than your mouth. And you're gonna graduate high school soon? The boys must be a bunch of pussies. When I was their age... ok, fuck this."

There's a slapping noise and a soft cry. "I'm sorry!" she whimpers.

"Legs open. Wider!" There's a buzzing noise and another whimper. "Yeah, you know all about the toys, don't you girl. Too many toys and not enough boys, that's you. Oh... you like that? There's a little game I like to play. Hands behind you... keep them there. Now back against the sofa and hips to the edge of the couch... look at my cock. You're going to watch it push into you, very, very slowly, while I keep this vib on your clit... mmm, you're nice and wet. My rules are simple, girl. You move your hips, either towards or away, and you get your nipples played with, and the cock goes a little deeper. We keep that up until you make a noise, and then you just get fucked a little. Then we start over. We keep it up until one of us comes... and you better make sure it's me that comes first."

I shudder violently as I come in sudden contact with that vibrator, and shoot back up to my tiptoes. My clit tingles, just from the brief touch.

"Please no", the girl whispers, and then there's that muted sound a vibrator makes when it's held firmly in place. She's breathing faster, and then she starts panting -- and gasps suddenly.

"There's your first inch, bitch. Still got the wide part of the head to go... look at your nipples, your hard, pretty nipples. You love this. I can feel your pussy reacting... remember, don't move your hips. Let's try tapping with the vibrator..."

She pants faster. Then I hear him turn the vibrator up, and from the sound he's rocking it against her, but slowly. Her breathing gets uneven, then frantic.

"Mmm, I saw those hips twitch. Baby wants more."

She gasps again, a half-sob.

"Feels good, having the whole head, doesn't it. Hard to hold the hips still? Just say 'please' and you'll get as much as you ache for... now, do your nipples like that? Oh fuck you're so wet and hot now, I can tell that vibrator is driving you insane -- open your eyes. Look at my cock. Feel it throbbing? What's the actual fucking going to feel like? Oh, you slut, you moved again-"

I spring up again as the vib brushes my pussy. The effort of staying off of it is making me shake. And that tingle... so intense this time, lingering...

"-how about a fingertip in your asshole?"

"Please don't! Stop!" the girl shrieks, panting wildly.

"You used your words. That means... Fuck time," the man growls.

"Please no, too big, fuck no please-"

The vibrator's off and the only sounds are the girl's frantic gasping, and slow, deep grunts from the man.

Her gasps change, getting deeper, more uneven... more aroused. She's trying to gasp out "stop", but he just growls and pushes into her faster, making her thrash against the sofa, making her whimper for mercy.

"Now we start over," he growls, and the vibrator is back. "Same rules. No movement, no noise... it gets more intense each time, doesn't it. Maybe you should ask to fuck again and try to please me, you'll figure it out... no? Then we're back to the first inch of cock..."

The kicking of feet on the sofa, and the choked back moaning -- soft, frantic, helpless...

I curse as the vib glances against my clit, and then I realize I can't do this and I have to let my legs rest. A little voice in my head tells me I'm just giving in, but I ignore it, and then the full force of that vibrator shakes my clit, and I moan, uncontrollably. This fucking audio has been driving me insane, and I clench-

Instantly the egg up inside me starts buzzing, and so do my nipples. I arch helplessly, legs curling behind me, toes curling -- and the vibrator and buzzers get more intense-

Nearly screaming, I'm back on tiptoe, shaking like a leaf, panting. I remember there's a camera on me, and I think of men watching my body react, but instead of horrifying me, the thought makes me clench down, and the fucking egg goes off again. My legs go limp and oh fuck, oh fuck-

"Another inch, fuck, take it all... fuck yes, you're a pretty little thing... please me. Please me and I'll let you come over and over. It's not hard, you've milked guys by hand before -- I've got the pictures, remember? This isn't that different, you use your hips... that's right. I'll take the vib away, and play with your nipples, and you arch to offer them up, to please me, good girl... now whisper Fuck Me. Say it."

"Please- no- I won't- won't say that-"

A gasp -- he'd grabbed her somewhere, maybe by the throat, the sound of the vibrator being applied again, the drumming of her feet on the couch, the choked off gasping as she fought against an orgasm, and his deep, snarling voice. "Say it."

"No, no please- p-please- n-no. Stop! Fuck I can't take it, no more, no more! I'm going to-"

"Say it!"

"Fuck me! Fuck me! F-f-f-"

It's the drug. I can't take it anymore. I wrap my legs around the pole behind me, and use that clumsy grip to grind my clit against the vibrator, and the other devices go nuts and I writhe, and the man in the audio comes, an animalistic sound, and the girl gives terrified moans and then she comes-

I explode. Helplessly. Grinding against the vibrator, on camera, I don't care, I just want the next peak, and the next one. "Fuck! Fuck! Oh... Fuck!"

The audio fades out, and I shudder to a stop, panting wildly. The devices all turn off, and then the headphones are unclipped.

"Good girl," the guy says. "Six minutes. Not the record -- that was four fifty -- but still nice and fast. They'll like you."

He peels off the wires and removes the bikini bottom and egg. The sensations are gentle, but they still make me spasm with pleasure.

"Fucking drug," I moan. "You fucking drugged me, I couldn't help it-"

He starts laughing. "Babe, this was the control. The injection was water. No one who gets the real stuff lasts over a minute, and you'd still be coming. I think they'll give you a trial with the real stuff, though. You look good on camera, by the way..."

My wrists are unlocked, and my legs are shaking uselessly, so I slowly fold to the floor. My wrists are put into handcuffs, and still blindfolded, I'm half led, half carried out of the room.

**

"Subject eight?"

"Female, Caucasian, 25, dark hair, 120#, and may I just add, fucking hot. She did the control run in five minutes fifty eight seconds. She handed it pretty well. No known allergies."

"Let's see the orgasm segment... fuck, that's hot. Look at her go. Is the hard data as good as the video?"

"Yeah, high numbers all the way across."

"Personal history?"

"We got what there was to get. Boyfriends said she wasn't slutty, but was pretty enthusiastic in bed once they learned to flip her switch. The browser cache turned up an interest in first-timer erotica, so we chose that just-18-and-blackmailed audio clip - closest thing we had."

"Well, she's clearly a candidate for trials one and I think two. And if that goes well, I'd say she's a definite for the after school program. When she wakes up, take her straight to the first trial."

**

I am suddenly awake, because of the bright lights. I groan, roll over... it hurts. I open my eyes.

I'm in a metal cage, not much larger than you'd use for a large dog. At 5' 10", I can barely stretch out by lying diagonally. I'd been given a thin blanket to lie on, threadbare but clean. The bright light is an industrial strength light fixture a few feet from the cage. Turning away from it I can see I'm in some sort of warehouse; there are other cages in it. Other women. There are maybe twenty of us. Lights are going on over their cages too, one by one. The warehouse is otherwise bare concrete and metal pipes, with windows painted black.

Twenty missing women. How the hell do twenty women go missing in a city? Even in the Caribbean? The police have to be all over this.

"Wakey wakey" blares a voice from loudspeakers on the walls. "And no talking. Subjects three, eight and seventeen to be taken for trial one. Subject eleven to be taken for trial two. The rest will get breakfast and be called for later."

I think about whether the police will be looking for me. Probably not, I realize. I'd been in town for a conference, and I'd apparently been abducted from my hotel room on the last night of the conference. This was Saturday. I'd miss my flight, but no one was likely to notice until tomorrow. At best.

Shit, was I one of the subjects? Did I have a number?

I search the cage -- there's a number eight affixed to it. Fuck, what numbers did they call?

I try to sit up -- I can't quite manage it because of the low ceiling, and I'm sore from the ruthless orgasms yesterday and the cramped sleep. Those orgasm... injected with water, my ass. The way I'd come, no way was that water.

Footsteps, echoing sharply in the room. A guy walks up to my cage. He's wearing a uniform of some kind and has a gun on his hip and a key in his hand. I curl the blanket around my naked body, shivering,

"You'll give no trouble," he says flatly. It's not the same voice as yesterday. "If there is trouble, you'll get hurt and get stuffed back into the cage. The cage is then attached to a weight and dumped at sea. So for your sake, no talking, no tricks, just obedient following and careful listening. I'm not going to repeat myself and I'm going to assume your obedience. Don't even think of disappointing me."

He unlocks the cage and points to the floor in front of it. I crawl out, with the blanket. "Blanket stays in the cage," he snaps.

Shaking, I leave it behind, and stand up, naked and unsteady. He's six foot five at least, all muscle, and wearing mirrored glasses. He has a gun. He's got the aura of a cop, and if you're into cops he'd be hot, but my thoughts are a million miles from his looks. He points forward, and I walk, with him behind me and to the side.

I steal a look at the other four women being taken from their cages. They are all in their twenties, I guess, and are all pretty damn hot. The guards with them, all have that competent cop look. None of us are giving any trouble.

One of the girls is licking her lips and staring at her guard, a mixture of fear and awe in her eyes. I don't understand this, but she's escorted in a different direction than the three of us, and I'm not going to ask any questions. The rest of us just look plain scared.

We get taken to a room, and strapped to tables, with a cushion under our asses and a smaller one behind our heads. I can't easily see the other girls, even if I raise my head. The restraints have my legs slightly apart, and I can't close them.

My guard holds up a needle, and taps it. I whimper involuntarily. He injects my arm, smiles at me and moves off.

The sting immediately fades. I can't describe the weird emotion that follows... trying to watch yourself for any sort of changes in how you feel, knowing there's something inside you that might... do things to you. I'd done ecstasy a couple times... would it be like that? How long would it take? Would it make me... say things, do things, embarrassing things? I hated the fact that there were other people here. Looking up, I saw a camera pointing down at me. Fuck.

I try to raise my head and look around -- the strap across my throat makes this uncomfortable. There is a leggy redhead across the room, feet-first to me. She has an impressive rack and that is about all I can tell. The other table has a small blonde woman who barely looks twenty. She's staring at the ceiling and licking her lips nervously.

The guards are in a small group in the middle of the room, doing something with handheld electronics. I've always been struck how large those devices look when I hold them, and how small they look in a man's hands.

I let my head drop back, feeling vaguely dizzy for a moment. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. Maybe the drug didn't do much, or I'd get a defective batch. Or maybe I was the control again, and just got water. And the guard had smiled at me. That's a good thing, I decide.

Warmth suffuses me -- not sexual warmth, just a flushed kind of heat. I remember reading, in college, about an experiment where the control drug had caused the skin to flush, so the subject would think they got a drug with an actual effect. Ok, so that's what they'd given pretty little me. I was going to be fine. The blonde, I guess, got the real stuff. Stuff that made women horny... in a room with three hunks of guards? Fuck, she might really be in for it. I glance over again -- she's still licking her lips, and her nipples are obviously hard. I think immediately of the guard's hands, and the way they'd fit over her breasts. Drugged up as she is, she'd like that.

I hear a soft moan from the redhead. A guard immediately walks over to her, but I can't see what happens. A wave of warmth flows over me again, and my hands suddenly tingle. I squeeze them, and then shift, moving my legs a little, shifting my hips on the cushion. Getting comfortable. The guard's smile had been, well, pretty hot. He probably knew I was the control subject and he'd been trying to tell me I had nothing to worry about. Or maybe he just thought I was pretty. I mean, men do think I'm pretty, and I was here, naked... if he liked the view, it wasn't my fault.

I lick my lips, and look up at the camera.

Fuck, I wonder how many guys are looking at my body right now. It could be dozens. That sends a shiver through me. Some guy at a screen could have his cock out, right now. I catch myself smiling and licking my lips, and I almost chuckle. I shouldn't tease the animals, I think. But pretending to be all aroused, and arching my back... it might screw up their experiment, and if it got one of the guys to jerk off... suddenly I understand why porn stars get into the business. All those cocks out for them, that's so fucking hot. I smile, and tilt my hips up for the camera. Jerk off to this, whoever you are. I'm 5' 10, 36C, 24, 35, large, wide eyes, and a sexy mouth. Oceans of dark hair under me. Long legs, see? Go ahead, pump that cock, nice and rough. My clit tingles at the thought. I'm so fucking pretty and they're staring at me with their cocks hard... I lick my lips, slowly this time. Like that, boys? Pity you're stuck to that monitor. The guards in here at least get-


Drug Trial Ch. 01



Fuck! I'm slutting out and there are men right here in the room. What the hell was I thinking? If Mr Smile Cop Hands had seen that, his hands would be all over me right now. It'd be a different kind of smile on his face. There'd be a huge tent show in his pants. Fuck... mustn't tease the animals when they're in the cage with me.

The redhead moans, suddenly and deeply. I crane my head... the guard has a hand on her belly. I can see her tilt her hips up to him... I shudder a little. Whatever that drug was, it clearly worked. Fuck, it's an evil thought. Something so strong it makes her into a wet little slut, asking for it like that from a stranger...

She moans again, and then starts whimpering. Inside, I clench, bursting into flames. Bondage has never exactly been my thing, but the thought of a guard playing with a pretty, helpless prisoner... that was hot.

Really, really hot.

I clench again, and the response is so strong I gasp, and then whimper.

In a second my guard is back, and he wraps his hand around my hair, forcing me to look straight up at the camera. I moan... he's sexy, I'm helpless and he's touching me, and guys somewhere are jerking off to it. They can see my hard nipples, my dilated eyes, my pretty body all flushed pink-

The guard crouches down. "I'm going to touch you. You look only at the camera, and you don't make any noise. Understand?"

I nod, and that large, strong hand settles on my belly, and then moves, slowly, downward. I gasp again, belly clenching hard, hips tilting up. I was so hot and pretty and I couldn't help it.

His finger settles over my clit, and the fireworks begin. I bite my lip to hold the whimpering back, and my eyes go impossibly wide; his hand is the best thing on earth and he's doing it exactly right, fuck and the camera is getting it all, guys jerking off to me, and the guard smiles that smile and his finger curls IN-

I come, helplessly and hard, making incoherent little noises. Suddenly I realize the redhead is coming as well, and so is the blonde. I writhe, so turned on I ache, and then the guard's lips are at my ear.

"Good girl, come for my finger. Over and over. Each one will be more intense. Try not to speak and try to hold back each orgasm as long as you can."

Hold back orgasm, is he out of his mind? His finger is sweeping inside me, slowly, exploring the sensitive spots, and I can feel everything. His tongue licks along the curve of my ear and I explode helplessly again, clenching around that massive, probing finger, milking it with my hips. Hottest first date ever, and this was only a finger, if he uses two, I'll be on the ceiling. And if he uses his-

The blonde cries out, suddenly "Please! Cock, please!"

The redhead and I moan in unison. Begging is so hot when other women do it. And then my guard has his mouth over a nipple and his finger moves faster and I come again, surging, thrashing, clenching... his other hand keeps my head from moving much, which is agony because I want to look at his mouth, on my nipple, I want to see the way he's sucking it into a hard, throbbing cone and then closing his teeth around it- fuck I've never come like this, not even for Michael with his big, huge cock -- fuck I want cock so bad, I want my helpless body smothered by this big, strong, ruthless guard with his wicked smile and his large hands -- the orgasm won't stop, and my eyes snap from wide open to tight closed to wide open, unfocused, and my mouth is an O like it's begging to be fucked, and then he pushes another finger into me and shakes them deep inside me-

Colors. Flavors. Every part of me is lit and burning and I can't begin to take in how good this is, I want this all the time, I want to be fingered and fucked by man after man and feel this glorious fountain of intense, burning, molten lust-

"Cock," I sob. "Fuck me. Pound me, I'm all wet and pretty and helpless, take me! Over and over-"

He unstraps my legs, and the lower part of the table, from my hips down, folds down and under, and I'm at the perfect height for him. He unzips and takes it out and I'm straining to look and it's fucking awesome and I'd do anything -- anything-

And then he yanks on a condom and then his hands are over my breasts and he's plunging into me, and my clit -- my nipples -- my everything-

I come the entire time, continuously. I'm dimly aware the other two girls are as well, but all that matters are the grunts and growls of the guard pounding me, because every noise he makes sets of a special kind of firework in my brain, and when he comes all the fireworks are going to go off at once- I work my hips for him, wrap my legs around him, yanking with my legs to get him to go faster, and there was that one time in college my boyfriend had tied me up and teased and denied and teased and denied and then teased and teased and tormented me with a vibrator and kept saying no and no and no until I screamed yes and came so hard and so long I was embarrassed, and that was nothing close to this, oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck yes, pound me oh fuck he's coming he's coming in me so rough no words no words no words-

Shrieking, I pass out.

**

"They all did well. Looks like we're going to the second trial with all of them."

"Anything unusual?"

"Eight, with the long hair, passed out three minutes in, so we didn't get a proper duration. Maybe we need to cut her down to 2.5 mills. The blonde, seventeen, had sporadic spontaneous orgasm even when she wasn't touched, for up to an hour afterwards, and she wanted to suck her handler. Three, the redhead, went twenty minutes in more or less constant orgasm just from a finger, and then wanted to be spanked before she got to have any cock."

"Pity. That means no after school program for her. It's amazing what this drug uncovers, though, in the psyche of some women... anyway. Get them cleaned up and fed and back in their cages. Strapped, of course, we don't want any lingering arousal and masturbation. Put them under for three hours at least. You've got their clothing set up? Good. Go run the next batch."

**

They stuff me in a new cage, in a room, alone. I'm suddenly dizzy and when I wake up, I'm tied to the bars of the cage. My clit is... awake, sort of, and my nipples are hard, but I'm too shaken up to be horny.

That drug. That fucking, evil drug. I'd felt so pretty. So hot. So... eager. I'd felt shiny and perfect and invincible and sexy, so sexy, and so very, very fuckable. Nothing had been better than that cock, and that guy attached to it, the mirrored glasses hiding his eyes, my trapped limbs, his hands rough on my breasts... and the noises he made as he got close to cumming... I shudder, remembering how that had sounded.

Fuck, I was horny again, scared or not. Lingering aftereffects from the drug, I guessed. And they knew I would be, and that's why my wrists were strapped so there was no way I was getting my hands near my clit. That drug was the worst thing ever. Instant slut.

They said they were going to let me go, at some point. Do they mean it? If they do, I know what I have to do. I have to get to a hospital, tell them I'd been in a party, drugged and raped... get them to take a blood sample and identify whatever it was in my bloodstream. Because my story would never be believed without that for proof. But with proof, I could go to the police, the papers... whatever it took to shut this down.

The sick thing was, I could remember the way the blonde had begged for cock. The way the redhead had come. It was so fucking hot, hearing that echo in my head. Coming helplessly while bound, for men they didn't know... it shouldn't be hot. It shouldn't be. But a video of what had happened in there would get about a million hits on any one of those kind of websites. Hell, I might have watched it myself.

Oh fuck. I've always had this weakness for virgin erotica. The first time a girl gives it up... so hot, especially if she's kind of pushed into it. It's not non-consensual stuff, exactly, more like "Ohh, I shouldn't, ohh, I mustn't, oh fuck, I wanna, I'm going to, and it's because he tricked me, yeah, he did this to me and fuck, fuck it feels so good...." It's a really sick fetish, I know that. But this drug, and an unsuspecting virgin... I shudder. I wasn't even going to think about that. Shit, shit, shit. No. Was there an oral form of the drug? Shit, shit, shit. Bad thought.

What the fuck was wrong with me, anyway? I'd been used by a complete stranger while I'd been strapped to a table, and the only reason I'd gotten off on it was because they'd drugged me out of my mind. I'd been raped, pure and simple, not to mention used as a human guinea pig, and I have no idea what was going to happen to me next, I am in a cage, and I am having sick erotic daydreams, instead of screaming for rescue. It was the drug, I decided. It had to be a lingering aftereffect.

Footsteps. The fear is instantly back. I turn my head to find the last thing I'd expected to see -- a woman. In a bikini.

"Hi! I'm Susie. I'm here to get you dressed."

"I'm leaving?"

"Oh no. Not yet. You've got one more trial. Then they hold you for forty eight hours. Then they dose you with some semen from a Labrador and turn you loose in another city with two hundred in cash, and plane tickets home."

"Wait. What? Labrador?"

"Isn't that gross? It's so you won't go to the police or a hospital with any wild tales about men making you have sex. If you do, they find a trace of cocaine in your system, and dog semen, not human semen, up your floozy chute. Kinda screws with your credibility. Plus if we find out you tried to give evidence... well, that's not so good for you. So you just pretend this never happened and it's all good."

"All good? Rape?"

"Look, girl, I know, ok? Been there, done that." She reaches through the bars and undoes my straps.

I stare at her. "You went through this and you work for them?"

"Yup. It's not only a nice fat paycheck, but the sex is safe and unbelievably awesome. Look, babe, some girls is whores, some girls is angels. I'm a whore. Except I look forward to sex, unlike most whores. I mean I'm not literally a whore; sex for me is a benefit not a paid duty. But you get my drift."

She opens the cage. I keep staring at her. She's no bigger than I am.

"What stops me from kicking your head in and running for it?"

"My black belt in kenpo, plus the only way out of the building is an underground passage which you won't find, and is guarded by Raoul and his machine gun; or through a barred window you can't reach anyway. Please don't be stupid, ok, gorgeous? You seem ok to me, I don't want to be mopping up your blood. Let's do this the easy way."

I climb out, slowly.

"So I'm going to be given more of the drug."

"I can't tell you what happens. I can tell you that in the next room there's a hot shower, warm Turkish towels, makeup, and an evening dress, all of which is better than what you have now."

"Um... no. I'm not a whore."

"So you want me to tell them you're refusing the dress?"

"You can tell them I refused to get dressed like classy, pretty high society, so they can inject me with something that will turn all that into a slutty fuck-begging whore. I'm not into fulfilling the sick fantasies of rapists."

"Alight. You'll be naked and the other women will be dressed up."

"Other women?" I stare at her. "You bitch."

"That's my job description, sweetie. If you want to walk in naked when everyone else is clothed... I'll say this, you'll be the center of attention. You probably won't get the drug -- but you will get cock. Lots of it. More than you want. I hope I'm being clear about your options."

"You soulless fucked up cunt, what kind of woman-"

I don't see the punch coming, but it nails me right in the solar plexus, and my breathing stops. She grabs my hair in her fist, plants that fist on her hip, bending me way over, and starts walking. I scrabble after her helplessly, gasping and stumbling.

We enter another room and she throws me into a shower stall. The water starts automatically and is colder than I like, but it warms up quickly.

"No more trouble, ok?" she says from a few feet back. "If I have to mark you up, I get a cut in pay for the week and you get to try scuba diving without any gear. Let's just agree that you'll get through the evening alive if you behave, and that's what everyone wants."

I get my breath back. I can't win this fight. All I can do is believe that whatever's planned for me, it's going to involve a drug that's humiliating, but maybe not worse, and protected sex with someone I don't know, which to be completely honest has happened once or twice before in my life. I can't pretend this is ok, but I can at least tell myself that they can't be killing all their test subjects because that many people going missing would get noticed, so if I just do this one last thing, I'll get out and can work on forgetting this ever happened.

I scrub down, and then dry off on warm, thick towels. "Next room," bikini bitch says, and we go through a doorway into a room that looks like a high class, upscale bedroom. "Evening dresses are in the closet," she says. "They will all fit you quite well, so pick a cut and color you like. Stockings, panties and heels as well. A word of advice -- the look to aim for is hot trophy wife or high end call-girl, not a prom date."

"Look, what the fuck is this? The last test, I was strapped to a table, injected and raped. Evening dress? Your drug works and what the fuck that has to do with a dress-"

"This is the last time I will tell you to get dressed."

Cursing, I open the closet and look inside. There are four dresses hanging up. One's a slutty looking cocktail dress, short and slit to the hip and navel, and I rule it out immediately. The next is frilly and dark green, which I'm not getting into. The last two are a stretchy red sheath with a gold belt, and a more stately black gown that's translucent across the top. There's no bra, so either of those is going to fix attention on my rack. I try on the red, and look in the mirror. I immediately feel cheap, like a bridesmaid that's trying to upstage the bride. I pull it off and try on the black.

I sigh. It looks wonderful, but the translucent top is something like the material used in stockings. It's very dark, but it form-fits and shows off my nipples perfectly. And since trying on nice dresses is automatically erotic with me, those nipples are very ready to be shown off. I look in the mirror, curse suddenly, and reach for the nude stockings. Clothing doesn't matter. I'm going to be fucked no matter what I put on. The skimpy panties and red heels finish it.

"Looks good," she says, and she opens a desk drawer and pulls out make up. I sit, and when she's done, I look fucking hot. Worse, I feel fucking hot. Make-up and a sexy dress will do it to me every time.

Bikini bitch leads me out, down a few hallways, through a door with a combination lock, and down some stairs. Suddenly I'm faced with a big dude with a machine gun -- this would be Raoul. He looks me over, but doesn't say anything, and we walk past. I can feel his eyes on me, and I shiver, from a mixture of emotions I decide not to explore.

"So, we're leaving," I say.

"Yes, for a few hours," she says. "By the way, you aren't in the city you probably think you are, so don't bother looking for friends. At all times, there will be a few people nearby who will make sure you don't make contact with anyone we don't like. Don't approach anyone, and only talk to people who approach you."

The passageway empties out into a large, mostly empty garage. A car is waiting. She gestures.

"Get in the back seat. There's a man there, to make sure you don't do anything foolish. If you behave, you'll be back here in a few hours for your exit prep. If you try to run for it... I think you get it by now. Have a pleasant evening."

"Fuck you," I walk over to the big black Mercedes and get in. A man I don't know puts a blindfold around my eyes, and the car moves off.

**

We drive for maybe twenty minutes -- it's hard to tell. We pass some traffic, and I hear bursts of speech in English, Spanish and creole -- not surprising for a Caribbean island, and none of it tells me exactly where I am. I can tell it's evening, warm and not raining.

The car slows, and pulls into some kind of garage.

"Alright, beautiful," the man next to me says. "We're going to walk into a building and down a hallway. You'll find a wide marble stairway and walk down it. There will be people down there. Some of them are ours, so behave. To the right there will be a bar. Go to it and order anything you like. Someone will approach you, and you'll stick to him for the evening. At the end you'll be escorted back to this car. Any questions?"

"No."

He removes the blindfold, and someone outside the car opens the door for me. I swing my legs out and look around. It's a small parking garage, with five cars in it, and two men with machine guns by the exit. Looking out, I see a typical Caribbean street of small shops, all closed, and I hear faint music. It's dark. I could be anywhere on one of the nicer islands.

My driver gets out and starts walking towards a small door, and I follow him. We go through and he points down the corridor. From the other end I hear the unmistakable sounds of a social function, maybe a night club, but very little Caribbean flavor to the sounds... I shake my head and walk. The thing now is to get this over with, whatever it is.

Walking down the staircase, carefully, in heels, pulls the eye of every woman and most men to me. There are perhaps 100 people here, all well dressed and smelling of money. Many of them look, from the quick guesses I can make, Latin American, southern European or Caribbean, with a few Asians. Doors are guarded by impassive blacks in white suits. The eyes linger on me, and I consider fleeing up the stairs, but I push myself to go on.

When I reach the bottom, I recognize the leggy redhead. She's in a tight blue sheath dress with a plunging neckline, and she's in a guy's lap, eyes closed, looking both aroused and embarrassed. She's not the only girl in a lap, but she's the only one I recognize. If she's drugged, she must have just gotten it. I shiver, imagining myself given that drug, reduced to mindless animal need, in a setting like this. A hundred people watching me beg for sex. I'm bright red in an instant.

I get to the bar, and a handsome bartender smiles at me. "Anything for you, bonita".

"A ticket out of here?"

He doesn't blink. "Rum and coke it is. Lime?"

"Sure."

There's a figure behind me. I turn. It's handsome cop, the guy that had fucked me last time. No glasses this time; he has grey eyes.

"Glad you could make it," he says, smiling neutrally.

"How could I refuse?"

"I'd have been very disappointed if you had. You look wonderful, by the way..." he takes the drink the bartender hands over, and invites me to walk to his table. It is a table for two, and near the center of the room. I'm blushing again.

We sit, and I look at him, talking under the cover of music. "So I'm expected to keep up the pretense of being your date? After my last encounter with you?"

"Of course. This is a social gathering; about half the people here are aware of the business, and the rest have no idea. So your behavior needs to stay within... reasonable bounds. So does mine. That means you won't go screaming about your recent experiences to everyone, but it also means you won't get fucked over a table in here."

"I saw the redhead in someone's lap."

"It's the Caribbean. Public fucking no, foreplay yes, within reason."

"And my drink is drugged, of course?"

He puts his hand over it, and presses on the stone in his ring. "Maybe. That was either a very low dose of the drug, or a placebo. I don't know which. But you will drink it. No games with spilling it."




Drug Trial Ch. 01



I don't know how to explain this. He is good looking. He'd fucked me into sobbing ecstasy yesterday. Of course, that was the drug's fault, but the lizard part of my brain didn't understand that, it just knew that his fucking was magic. I am sitting in an upscale carrribean private club of some kind, in a hot, tight dress with my nipples begging to be stroked. I'm horrified, but I'm also unmistakably, deeply aroused. It's impossible to look at him without remembering the ecstasy. And the fact that I have to do what he says... it's one thing to be strapped to a table and take cock. It's another to be in a normal-looking, high-class, social setting, and feel powerless. His power over me is absolute, life or death. And power, even bad, wrong power, is deeply erotic. I'm a harem slave with her sultan, and the fact that the harem slave has no choice has never made that fantasy less erotic.

His eyes move over my body. It's pure lust. My body is a pretty plaything to him, something to pound and squirt cum into. My clothing would shred in his hands. Inwardly, I shiver.

I shrug and take a sip of the drink. It doesn't matter. My body has already turned traitor. In the end, the drug makes what's going to happen easier.

He smiles. "What brought you to the Carribean?"

"Business. I'm in marketing for a line of lingerie and women's fashions."

"Yes, lingerie would look good on you."

"Marketing, not modeling."

"So your job is to select beautiful models, and make clothing look as sexy and appealing on them as possible?"

"That's only a small part of it."

"Did the photoshoots arouse you?"

I take another sip. "What about you? Security guard, isn't it?"

"I have two jobs. The one that shows up on my taxes is researcher. I have a degree in Psych and everything. The other job is... fixing things. Arranging things. Smoothing the way when things need to happen. Managing security is, as you say, only a small part of that."

"And you get wonderful fringe benefits."

"Yes, I do." He smiles.

"And that... works for you? A woman strapped to a table. That's sex, for you?"

Insulting him is all I have.

But he smiles and sips his own drink. "Sex, for men, is simple. Dark and intense and simple. It can be loving and warm and even sweet, but at core, it's an act of dominance. It's strength preying on weakness. I exult in that. To see your body spread out under me, your eyes wide or tightly closed, every nerve on alert, knowing you are about to be penetrated, knowing the body you call your own is going to be mine for a time, ruled by my need and my whim... that is the ultimate sensation for a man. Women tend to think that for a man, sex is all about how the cock feels. But that's just a piece of it. It's the primitive 'I got you', it's what a hunter feels when he takes down prey, it's what a fighter feels when his enemy is slain and fallen at his feet. It's conquest. Even when you are bound to a table, it's still the vizier taking a harem girl. And the most fantastic part, is how a woman reacts when she is taken. It's ultimate submission, with your legs open, your back arched, your hands grasping at cloth or your own hair. There's nothing more intensely beautiful and fascinating than a woman whose body has been driven to the edge of orgasm. It's hotter if it's against your will. Your own body betraying her, coming, writhing, sucking frantically at the hard cock that's pounding her slit... yes, that's sex."

Fuck. Men who look like that shouldn't be able to talk that way. He didn't need drugs to make me wet. If this had been an actual first date, it would have ended early -- but I'd have gone home and masturbated all night, and made damn sure I didn't miss his next phone call.

"But women need more than to be pounded. There are complexities you'd never understand."

"And do not need to understand. I'll be the man. You be the woman, and sift through your complexities. My belief is, no woman really wants a man to chase her through that shifting, chaotic maze of issues and complexities and emotions. A man only needs to be a man, to please a woman."

"You've got the whole Latin male thing down, I give you that." I sip my drink again. He's a rapist, and he shouldn't be able to do this to me. And I can't blame the drug. I've had less than a third of the drink, and if it's a low dose, as he says, it shouldn't be doing much to me.

I glance over at the red-head. She's lying back against her date, and his hand is tracing her belly, slowly, through the tight cloth. Her lips are parted and her eyes are closed. Her glass is empty.

"Looks like red got-"

"-a very handsome date," he interrupts. Right, we're not discussing drugs openly here.

"I was going to say, a very strong drink," I finish, establishing some code words. "Nothing like mine. I barely think there's any alcohol in mine."

"Had to say," he said, smiling now. "I've seen women get... inebriated out of their minds on fruit juice. Sometimes it's the expectation that matters. And sometimes, the drink is only the excuse for what lies deep in a person. She aches to have her breasts handled and her thighs pulled apart, maybe even here in public. And who knows if that's due to alcohol?"

"So we're all secretly hot for it, is that what you're saying?"

He leans forward, not smiling, and murmurs in my ear. "I've seen the video of you when the only thing you'd had to 'drink' was water. The slow, violent thrashing, the repeated soft cries. You have your own secret heat. You're hot for it right now, and everyone in this room knows it."

I look away from him. The redhead licks her lips, and then her date moves his hands over her full breasts, cupping and petting sensually. She blushes from head to toe, but her hips rock subtly. I find somewhere else to look, and sip my drink again, unthinkingly.

I put it down, stare at it for a moment, lift it and finish it. There's warmth in my belly but it's probably the rum.

"So why this... public setting, for the date," I ask.

"We can't discuss that here. But I'll just say that some people here are interested in doing business, and want to know more about what they are investing in."

"Oh." I feel a coldness, realizing that some people here are watching an experiment in progress. Wanting proof that the product does what is claimed. "But... the sellers could have just hired actresses and told them how to act."

"You're drifting into unsafe conversation, and that won't be good for you," he said, quietly but firmly. "However, to answer your question, the potential buyers gave me this ring. Isn't it nice?"

And I understood. The buyers selected which rings got the drug and which got the placebo. They handed to the rings to men, keeping track of who got which, and watched the behavior of the woman with each man. I couldn't be a hired actor, because I wouldn't know which part to play.

Looking at his ring makes me look at his hand. His large, strong hand... I swallow. I wasn't given the placebo. My nipples are aching and his hands are fascinating. I breathe faster.

"Sit in my lap," he says, softly.

"We don't even know each other's names," I say, a little bitterly. I've seen his cock before, I know how big it is, and I know it's hard. I know what it will be like to sit in his lap. I feel a light tingling, all over.

"Sit in my lap," he repeats. "I want you to feel how hard I am for you."

Off to the side, the redhead gives a soft, erotic moan. Then I hear the click of her heels as she and her date exit the room. I clench helplessly, and shift myself to my date's lap. He buries his lips against my neck, and then bites there, gently. My eyes become unfocused and unsteady. Men are looking at me.

"Please don't... touch me the way the redhead got touched. Not in public."

"I'm afraid I must. An American woman won't generally allow that as a public display, unless..."

Unless the drug is effective on her. My date slowly rubs my thighs, though the thin, tight cloth, and then my belly. I burn. It's not the shrieking sexual insanity caused by the larger dose... but I suddenly don't care much who sees what. I've let men touch my breasts at dance clubs, after all, though they were always the men I came in with. But now... I imagine his hands on my breasts, my nipples hard against his palms, and then trapped between his fingers... his cock is throbbing under me. I don't care who sees what. I'm pretty and I like to be touched. I'm panting. I'm wet. He's hard. And I have to do what he wants, everything he wants.

His hands cover my breasts, and I turn my face to him to hide it, and he kisses my mouth, slowly and sensually. I let him. I'm not out of control, I just... want this. It's not like the big dose, when I'd have crawled to any cock I saw. This is... I could walk away if I wanted to, but I don't want to. I've felt his cock hammer me, and I want it again.

I want it so bad. Oh, fuck. My hips rock, rubbing my ass on his cock. His tongue is sliding along my lips. I moan, softly. He chuckles.

"Shall we take a walk?"

"Yes," I whisper, huskily.



Drug Trial Ch. 02



We walk through a door and start down a hallway. I walk sensually in my heels, feeling the dress hem stroke my thighs, aware of the movement of my breasts under the tight cloth. I know the drug is responsible for these hyped-up reactions, but I can't make myself care.

"Can we talk now?" I say to my "date." He chuckles.

"Yes, anyone in this part of the building understands what's going on."

"Then... I think they got the dose wrong. I can still think. I can say no. I don't want you to... to..."

His arm is suddenly around me, and I'm pulled against him. He's all hard and warm and he kisses me, and everything blurs. My nipples are against his chest, and I sway, rubbing them against him. His hands slide down my back and grip my ass, pressing me against him, against his hard cock. He rocks my hips, using my body to masturbate. I gasp and kiss him back, hungrily, moaning into his kiss like a slut. It feels wonderful.

When he lets me breathe again, I cling to him, my arms looped around his neck, arching to show off my breasts. "Evil, evil drug," I whisper huskily. "Why the lower dose this time?"

"Isn't it obvious? They want a dosage that can be slipped into drinks at social events. Too much is clearly bad - they don't want you to start masturbating in a downtown bar. They want a date rape drug that makes the sex the woman's idea, but without making her behavior so wild that people suspect."

I suddenly discover that horror and arousal aren't incompatible.

"But the woman will know. Believe me, these aren't my normal feelings. No matter how hot you are., women will know something's wrong, and afterwards they'll get their blood tested."

"This drug looks like Ecstasy to standard tests. It screws up the woman's legal chances. In court, the defense lawyer always manages to suggest that the woman took it willingly, which suggests she was cruising for sex. Even if the prosecution can demonstrate it was slipped into a drink, then the defense claims that it's not a powerful enough aphrodisiac to make a woman have sex she didn't want, which is true of Ecstasy. Either way, it creates reasonable doubt in a juror's mind, and the guy generally gets off. A woman claiming that she was compelled to have sex by a drug when the drug is thought to be Ecstasy... she hasn't got a case."

"You fucking bastards have it all worked out." I look down, anger and dismay competing to overmaster me.

Suddenly I'm up against the hallway wall, his hands on my shoulders, pinning me there. I shudder with desire and fear.

"Remove your panties, now." His voice is inhumanly cold and commanding.

My hands move of their own accord, fumbling under the hem as fear washes through me, and then the panties slither down my legs to pool at my ankles. I'm not even trying to fight him, I realize.

"Lift the hem with one hand. Put two fingers of the other up into your slit. Do not touch your clit in any way. Move your fingers slowly, inside yourself. I want to see them moving."

I obey him, and my shudders quickly turn to shaking.

"Close your eyes, and play a little movie in your head. Picture that red-head being dosed in a dance club. Picture it. Picture her dancing, then going home with a man she doesn't know. Picture what he does with her."

The fantasy takes hold of me. In seconds I'm panting, struggling to keep my knees from giving way. So hot. She doesn't know why she's so aroused, but rubbing her body against him feels so, so good. She feels pretty and wicked and she lets him take her home, and he slams her face down over the bed and yanks her short dress up, then tears her panties off...

His hands are on my breasts again, through the thin nylon. Suddenly he has a knife, and he cuts into the cloth and tears it apart in his hands, uncovering my breasts. His thumbs are over my nipples, rubbing roughly, and I arch helplessly towards orgasm. At the last moment he reaches down and yanks my fingers out of me.

"Please!" I cry out in frustration.

"You want that, you get it from a cock," he said. "Take off what's left of the dress and step out of the panties. Keep the shoes on; I like fucking a girl in heels."

The clothing falls away. Now I'm naked for him, staring down at the floor, subissively. "Please... don't..." I whisper. There's not really any point in saying it, because my body is screaming a different message. Arched back, swaying hips, nipples hard, lips pouted and soft, eyes wide, legs rubbing together... I'm fuckbait, and aching for anything he'll give me.

"I'm going to enjoy fucking you senseless. But first, you're going to see that little fantasy in real life. Walk down the hall to the next door on the left. Open it and look in."

I do, and just stare. I try to look away, and I can't. It's so... hot.

The redhead is bent over the foot of a bed, legs together and up on tiptoe. There's a man behind her, naked from the waist down, gripping her by the torn fragments of her dress and fucking her brutally. In front of her, on the bed, is another man, an Asian, slapping her face with his cock as she frantically tries to catch it in her mouth. Whoever told Asians to have small cocks forgot to notify this guy.

There's a third man as well holding a camera. As I stand in the doorway, transfixed, mouth gaping, he takes my picture.

"Let me come," the redhead moans. "Fuck, please, I have to-"

"You'll have orgasm," snarls the Asian, "when you are wearing my cum. Suck me!"

"Masturbate again," says my date, as he shows up behind me.

I'm shaking. "N-n-no don't make me c-come while w-watching this-"

His hand is in my hair and he yanks me back against me, the sting of it blending with my arousal. His other hand is over my breast, rubbing and squeezing. "Now!"

I obey, and in moments I'm flying towards orgasm again. The redhead has the Asian's cock in her mouth now, and snakes her hand under his balls. He snarls and then groans. My knees give way, and I sag to the floor, kneeling. "Fingers out," snaps my date, but I don't want to listen. I NEED to come and it's so close, if I just touch my clit once I'll-

The photographer comes over, and with his foot, hooks my wrist and yanks my fingers out of me. Then his zipper is down and his cock is out. I lick it, my slit desperately clenching on nothing. The camera flashes again. I start sucking then pull away, horrified at my actions.

"No," I gasp. "Please, I'm not like this... please let me stop."

"My cock has the drug on it," the photographer says, with an evil half smile. "And you're going to keep sucking it." His fingers sink into my hair and it's in my mouth again, hardening, thrusting... I suck him as sensually as I know how. I burn to be fucked by every cock in the room.

Then, I'm thrown over the bed, facedown next to the redhead. Photographer is behind me, his cock pushing into my slit. My date is in front of me, his cock out and in my mouth. Next to me, the Asian man comes, splattering the redhead. Her ass is slapped, and she's turned over on the bed, there are hands on her breasts, she's still being fucked and she's coming so hard-

Behind me, Photographer stops and slides out. I think he puts a condom on and then he's back in and fucking me brutally. It's just too much feeling and sight and sound... the redhead is panting and screaming next to me. I come violently. There's no way to stop it, and then I'm put on my back and fucked some more. My date jerks off and splatters me with his come, then rubs some of it into my nipples. I can't stop coming, helpless, unable to breathe...

Then there is stillness. Finally. I take a deep breath. The men are done with us, having had their orgasms. The redhead and I lie there, shaking. I'm still burning. I think she is, too.

"Lick each other clean," my date says. "Now."

I'm not bi, and I don't want to obey him. The drug is still pounding insistently inside me, and it likes guys much more than girls. But I have to do whatever they say. I look at the redhead who is also looking at me. She has their mess mostly on her face and upper breasts while I have it mostly on my breasts and belly.

She curls towards me and starts to lick my breasts, and I reciprocate, licking her, trying not to think about what I'm doing. When she gets to my nipples, I start to pant. This fucking, relentless drug! She twists, trying to get my mouth on her nipple, even though there's no cum there to lick. I don't want to, but she brings her hands up and guides my mouth there, and I give a tentative suck. She lets out a wild moan, and the sound of it...Oh gods, I'm shuddering again. None of this should be hot but it is, and now we're both panting. She gets her hand between my legs first, but I'd been just about to do the same to her. I finger her wet and eager pussy, and then there are men's hands all over us, gripping and squeezing and toying with us.

I lose track of orgasms and in the end we're both just twitching, exhausted heaps of fucktoy. I lick her face clean, and she strokes my hair. For each of us, the other is the only kind thing in the room.

"One hundred thou for the redhead," the Asian says, suddenly. Both us girls stiffen.

"We're a drug manufacturer, not a slaver shop," my date says. "Women are not for sale."

The Asian grabs the redhead's face. "You come with me," he says. "Five year contract. One hundred fifty thousand American a year, room and board. No beatings. No drugs but this new one. Very few men allowed to have you. Day job at nice company, too. Nice clothes and parties. Yes?"

"Where?" she asks.

"Prathet Thai. Ah... Thailand."

"No," she says, sharply. I don't blame her. Asian cultures are not always nice to women, and Thaliand has a booming sex slave trade. No money is worth that risk. I was surprised she'd even bothered to ask what country though, after the way that jackass had phrased the offer.

"White slut bitch," the man says, raising his hand to slap her. My date reaches across smoothly and stops his hand, muscles bunched in his arm.

"We're done here. You've seen what you paid to see. You won't go near these girls again. Enjoy the party, you'll be contacted when production begins."

He turns back to us. "Get up girls. It's your bedtime."

**

The redhead and I are in the car with my date. We're blindfolded and naked. I think Photographer is in the front seat, but I'm not sure. The car pulls forward, and my date gets his arm around me and starts caressing my breast. I have a feeling the redhead is getting the same treatment.

"You two are almost done," he says. "No more experiments per se. You'll be with us for a couple more days, while the drug breaks down, and while we check for side effects. No more cages, either. You get a real bed now. Mine."

"Yours?" the redhead says.

"That's what I said. You'll be locked in with me and under my observation."

"And we'll be your fucktoys," I say, emotionlessly. I don't dare allow my feelings to come out right now.

"Let's just say that as the drug works out of you, you'll have little moments of need. You can turn to me or each other, or just try to sweat out alone, but you will sleep in my bed with me. And you'll give me no trouble. Understand?"

We are all quiet for a time. My body is still reacting to the nearness of the man and his casual stroking of my breast.

The redhead says, "It's kind of expensive, isn't it? Buying those dresses and then shredding them like that?"

"We have to burn them anyway. DNA evidence and all. And we'll make our money, plenty of it, don't you worry. People will pay hundreds for a single dose. A tamer, modified version will go on the white market as a treatment for female sexual dysfunction. It's going to earn billions in the first year. We're going to change society."

I think about that, and shiver, in a dark and unpleasant way. A society in which any woman is one dose of a drug away from insane sexual need. It would redefine sexuality, and not necessarily in a good way. Unless you were male, of course. And there would be no shutting this down. Laws would get passed, but third world factories would churn the stuff out anyway.

The redhead is odd, I decide. Why did she care about the dresses? Of course, I'd just fingered her to multiple orgasms, so maybe I shouldn't be calling her odd.

Suddenly I ask, "What's your name?" I'd meant my date, but the redhead answered first.

"Cleona."

"And I'm Deven."

"I'm Juliette. I'd say 'nice to meet you', but..."

"I get that it sucks to be you two," he says, dryly.

"It's going to suck to be any woman, when you're done."

"Yeah, well, if you babes didn't treat sex as some fucking huge drama, maybe no one would have developed this shit, you know?"

"Excuse me? Pregnancy? Disease? Violent jerks? Jerks like you, for example. We women have damn good reasons for keeping our legs together." I'm being a fool, and I know it. He's not the man to say these things to; but I'm angry.

"That's bullshit. There's ways around all that. Females make it an emotional issue, guys don't, and that's the real problem. Well, now there's a drug to shortcut all the emotional drivel. You know how it works? It makes women want sex the way men do -- right now and for its own sake."

"So men really are as shallow as we thought. Nice to know."

"Let's not piss Deven off," Cleona says, suddenly. "All this, we've been though... it could have been worse than it was. A lot worse. And he didn't let that Asian guy hit me. So it's all good. Let's just not talk about it."

I sit there, a little stunned. I'd heard of Stockholm syndrome; now I was seeing what it looked like. Completely creepy and more than a little pathetic. I wanted to push her away with a sharp stick, in case it was catching.

"So, Juliette... what do you do?" she asked a few moments later.

Were we really going to have a get-to-know party after being fucked repeatedly in an orgy?

"Marketing," I said, neutrally. "You?"

"Exotic dancer," she said. "Just kind of where my shot at modeling ended up. I'm still trying to find myself, you know?"

I make a non-committal noise. Deven's fingers are toying with my nipple, and I feel a flare of heat. Orgasms didn't matter with this drug. Deven had proven himself a jerk and I was still hot for him. Bloody fucking hell.

"I'm still hoping to maybe m-model- oh... oh, fuck, no... p-people might look in and see-"

I can tell by the sound that he's touching her, probably fingering her. He unwraps his arm from around me, and runs it up my thigh... I bite my lip, determined to make no noise at all.

He's fingering both of us. Somehow being blindfolded, and in a car, driving who knows where, who knows who can see in... I clench down on his finger, over and over. Cleona whimpers, a slow, submissive, whispery sound. It gets to me, and holding back my own moan is hard, so hard.

"Kiss each other. Slowly. Make it sexy," Deven rumbles. Cleona whimpers again, shifting, leaning towards me. I don't want to kiss her because I can't bite my lip that way, and then I'll make noise, and then- then Deven will know how hot I am, and I don't want to be hot for him, but if I don't he'll be angry- I can't face my fear of his anger.

Gasping, I lean over and fumble for Juliette's mouth. Kissing while blindfolded is... I don't have words. Before long we're licking each other's lips and sucking each other's tongues. Deven's hand moves to my breast, to my nipple. This is so fucking unfair. He's got two hot, naked women in heels making out over his lap. I wonder how hard it's making him, and then I realize I'm probably going to find out.

His hand moves again, settling in my hair. He turns my head and Cleona's too, and now it's a three way kiss. He growls like an animal, sending hot shivers right down my spine, and then Cleona giggles against my lips.

"Oh," she whispers breathily. "Do you like that, baby? Big hard cocks love little hands..."

Unfuckingbelievable! She's giving him a hand job. Part of me thinks contemptuous things, wondering if exotic dancers really are all sluts and tramps. Part of me recognizes she's just responding to the terror of what's been happening to us, turning into a little girl and crawling into the protective shadow of the big ruthless man, and part of me is so turned on by her slutty behavior that I want to scream.

"You're going to fuck us good," she whispers. "Two hot girls who can't say no to you, chained to your bed side by side. I'm gonna make it feel so hot for you. If I don't please you, you spank my ass, baby and I'll learn what you like real fast. You want to fuck me while you're licking Juliette's nipples? You want me to lap dance on your cock while Juliette masturbates and watches? Yeah, baby, it's all yours..."

The stupid bitch is trying to take him all for herself, I realize. She's trying to cut me out. As if I wanted in, but still. She's insane.

"Let me get your cock out, baby-" and then she shrieks and her head slams into my leg. Deven's forced her over his lap -- and then I hear his hand connect with her ass.

"You talk too much, red," he snarls, and gives her another. She shrieks "baby, no!" but I've never heard a 'No' sound more like a 'Yes' before. The next slap drives a breathy cry from her. "I'll be good! Please don't! Stop!"

Please don't stop, I think. Yeah. Stupid whore.

"I decide when my cock comes out, slut," Deven growls. The hand comes down again, and her moan is pure, animalistic lust.

"Baby, I'm sorry-" she coos.

Another slap, harder. "I'm not your baby. I'm your warden. You do what I say, when I say it. And now you're going to put your hand between your legs and work your clit while I spank you pink."

"I'll -- I'll come -- I can't help it-"

"No, I don't think so, slut. Because you're going to be much too busy licking Juliette's pussy. If you come before she does your next forty eight hours will be hell on earth. So find-" slap! "her-" slap! "pussy!" Slap!

Frantically, she feels her way up my leg. I position myself for her, telling myself that hearing her get punished isn't hot and that her tongue isn't going to do anything for me.

The drug makes everything more sensual, and more sensitive, but the clit is worst of all. Her tongue lashes, and I'm trembling from head to toe in seconds. The worst of it is, I don't think Deven is kidding about punishing her for two straight days if she comes first. My orgasm just became a civic duty.

He slaps her ass again and again, and then she howls -- he must have fingered her.

"No! Fuck! I can't stop it! I'm on the edge. Fuck, fuck! Please it hurts to hold it back! Fuck, please, m-mercy!" And she jams two fingers into me and moves them fast, hard... I close my eyes and my orgasm happens, while listening to her get spanked some more, and feeling her twitch against me with each slap. Spanking's not really my thing, but the sounds do things to me. She comes as well, now that it's safe, and starts thrashing against me.

When the world stops spinning, I realize the car has stopped. People are getting out, and my blindfold is pulled off. I look down at Cleona first -- she's a flushed, sweaty pile of hot girlflesh half in my lap, half in Deven's. Her ass is glowing pink. Deven pushes her off and climbs out, a massive erection showing through his tight pants.

We get out, almost drunkenly stumbling, and Deven escorts us to our new room.

**

Coming down from the drug is a strange and depressing experience. It suddenly occurs to me that "sluttertine" is very likely addictive. And I notice something else that really, really bothers me -- I'm starting to like Deven. It's not hard to figure out why -- he's handsome and he gives world-shaking orgasms. It's the drug that does that, really, but the parts of my brain that are about instinct, not rational thought, don't understand that. They only know that he fucks me and there are sugarplums and fairy dust every time he does, so he must be wonderful.




Drug Trial Ch. 02



Deven's suite is a simple apartment, with a large bedroom, small kitchen, bathroom and living room. The door locks behind us when he closes it, and it finally sinks in that he doesn't have the key and he's stuck in here with us. I doubt he minds, since he's with two hot, naked girls, one of whom seems to have fallen for him. But jumping him for the key is not an option.

"So," I say, conversationally, "What stops me from getting a steak knife and killing you?"

"When I'm asleep you, could probably pull it off. But it would be discovered, and you and Red would both be sent on that one way boat trip we've discussed."

"Right, so... clothing?"

"Nope. You both look fine without." He smiles.

"And am I cooking your meals for you?"

"As much as having a barefoot sex slave in the kitchen does kind of work for me, no. I know how to cook."

"Strictly sex. Got it."

"I can be a decent roommate, Juliette. This will be exactly as unpleasant as you make it. No one asked you to like what happened, but you can't go free until the drug is out of your system, so the alternatives are this or a permanent end to your bitching. Please don't make it go that way."

He sits on a sofa and picks up an iPod, and the conversation ends. Cleona sits near him, body turned towards him, long legs crossed. I head for the bedroom to give them some privacy, not that either one would care if I watched or not.

**

Sleep isn't possible, even as worn out as I am. The situation is too crazy, my emotions are too jumbled any my body is still unnaturally primed for action. Then, to my complete lack of surprise, Cleona starts in with Deven.

"I don't know what's wrong with her," she says. "I know this is just what you do. I... I mean... you were nice to me when that Asian dude was going to slap me around..."

"I'm trying to read, here," he rumbles.

"Oh, c'mon, handsome. I see the erection, and... maybe it's the drug and maybe I'm just into the way you fuck, but either way, I'm just going to sit next to you and masturbate, until your cock tears itself out of those pants. Do you ever think of fucking a girl as punishing her? I don't mean beating her up, I just, it's this weird fantasy of mine. Cock as punishment. Sometimes I imagine it's orgasm denial and sometimes it's just fucking someone in public to humiliate her. I don't know why it's hot, but there's something about being unwilling and having to..."

"I don't think you've ever been unwilling," he rumbles again. I smile into one of the pillows.

"That's not true. Dancing, I see a lot of guys that do not do it for me. Believe me. But if you came in and watched me dance... maybe you slipped my boss a few hundred, and after my show, you walked into my room, with a gag..."

She moans, low and soft, getting into her own fantasy as she masturbates. "Maybe you slam me to the floor, and at that point I'm too scared to scream. Your cock comes out, big and hard. I try to get up but your shoe is on my belly, and you tell me to unlace it. Do you ever have any harem fantasies? Hell, you live them. You drag girls around by the hair and fuck them senseless..."

She starts whispering at that point, probably imagining I can't hear her. "Do you know what would get me sick hot? If you forced Juliette. If she's mostly asleep and you went in there with rope and she could barely move when you were done, and maybe you make me lick her a little because then she'd be hot whether she wanted to be or not, and being hot makes her getting raped more... you know... but then, before she comes, you grab me and do me, maybe right on top of her, and you make me come instead. Then maybe you come on me and she has to lick it off, that was so fucking hot back there. Your cock is throbbing, and I'm so wet. Do it. Please. Fuck me. Fuck me so hard she wakes up and has to listen. Imagine her listening and watching and masturbating- oh! Fuck your hands are- I'm soaked, please take it out and make me suck it, fuck, yes, it's so big!"

I hear a slapping sound and a wild moan. "Yes! Punish me! More! It makes me need to be good!"

A shriek, and then her wild panting.

"Over the back of the couch, bitch," he growls. "Tip toes and hands gripping the cushions, and you do not move, no matter what. We're going to pretend this is your first time, can you do that?"

"Oh," she moans. "No, please, I've never... fuck you'll hurt me! I've never even- fuck! Fuck, no! Please stop, stop, oh please stop-!"

I'm masturbating. They'll never hear me and it's the one fantasy I can never say no to. It's still the drug, I tell myself.

"Please,no! No! Do Juliette instead! It hurts! No, no more! Stop! Too much, slow down, no, oh fuck... fuck no, fuck no... no! Oh fuck please stop!" She's begging and crying, and I'm getting more and more turned on.

He's pounding her. Uncontrollably I turn and look, and from behind, with her head down in the cushions, I can make myself believe she's virginal and forced.

"I'll be good next time," she half-sobs. "Then you won't have to... oh fuck, why does it feel so good, stop, please please stop-"

She's either a better actress than I guessed, or she's reliving something I do not want to know about, but I bite my lips and shudder violently, and when he comes, I do too.

Hearing her plead for her own orgasm, I fall suddenly asleep, from simple and utter exhaustion.

**

When I wake, they are in bed with me. He's in the middle, sound asleep. The room is dimly lit.

I think I've been asleep for hours, but I don't know. There's no clock in here. No windows. Nothing but Deven and Cleona.

I feel sane again, for the first time in a while. The drug is finally out of my system and I can think.

Deven's lying mostly on his back, naked. That monster he calls his cock is lying there, sprawled against his thigh. I think again about kitchen knives, but I know I'm not going to do it. It would just add a decade to the years of counseling I'm already going to need -- even if they didn't kill me outright.

It's just... lying there. Thick, soft, heavy-looking, somehow. It's been inside me, and Cleona, and who knows how many other women. He's been careful to use a condom every time I can remember; they have reason to be worried about DNA evidence.

It's hypnotic to look at. Big cocks always are. All that meat, with the sole purpose of getting inside women, women like me. And doing things. Pregnancy, pleasure, domination. Cocks are so intensely, innately powerful.

I put my hand over it, lightly, without thinking. He stirs slightly, but keeps sleeping. A shiver goes through me -- even soft, it's the length of my hand. I curl my hand around it; my thumb barely reaches my middle fingernail. Massive. Heavy.

I squeeze it, slowly and gently. It starts to harden in his sleep.

Cleona is an idiot, trying to play for his affections with sex. He gets all the sex he could ever want. He'll have us on the street soon, if he's telling the truth, and he'll have moved on to other girls. This cock will pry them open, too, and they'll come helplessly, frightened and hot and pleading...

I squeeze it again, and move the skin back and forth over the meat inside. In the dimness, I shift and look more closely. His balls are huge. Bigger than the biggest chicken eggs, getting up towards tennis balls.

My thoughts move to the recent events I've experienced with him. A man's orgasm is so... wild. The noises, the way they tense, the jetting of hot liquid. Men can't fake it. It's so... visceral.

I squeeze it again, rubbing it slowly. I'm fascinated and excited by what I'm doing, not that I'm doing anything, exactly. He murmurs in his sleep, but I can't catch words. He's getting hard.

I slip my other hand between his legs and rub his balls, slowly.

And the little girl deep inside me tells me: if you're nice to him, he'll be nice back.

That's the trap Cleona fell into, I remind myself. Unless she's just that much of a slut. Men aren't nice to girls just because girls are nice first. Men are ruthless and take what they want. Deep down they're all like Deven; Deven is just honest about it.

Fuck, I have to stop touching him. If he wakes up, there's no telling what he'll do. Fucking might be the least of it.

Could I get away with kissing his cock in his sleep?

Why would I even want to? Who knows where this cock has been. How many women he's violated.

My pussy clenches at that thought. He'd made Cleona beg with this cock. I'd fallen asleep before I found out how it ended, but I had the strong sense he'd left her unsatisfied. She'd had that coming.

I'm rubbing my thumb, slowly and lightly, on that spot under the head of the cock. The frenulum, I think it's called. If he was awake he'd never stand for my touching to be this gentle. He'd get... greedy. Demanding.

Oh fuck, I'm so horny. And it's not the drug. I can tell the difference. This feels natural. I'm a sex toy on the drug, and it's intense and hot, but it's not me. This is me.

I rub more firmly, faster. His breathing has changed. My face is close to his cock now. I can smell it, and I can feel warmth from it on my cheek. I tease myself by blowing a kiss at it, almost but not quite touching. He'd go insane if I did that while he watched. He'd instantly force me to suck it. He'd choke me with it, while fingering my pussy. He'd tie me down and then-

My tongue comes out and slides along the head of his cock, this huge, nasty cock that's been everywhere and done everything. My other hand slides back to me, cups my breast, and then slides down over my belly, very slowly. My body has been fucked by this cock. This hard, ruthless tool, forcing me open. I lick it again, down the length, as slow, intense shivers running down my back. It's one thing to have to fuck him, to be drugged and threatened and to have to. But now I'm willingly toying with the cock of the worst man in the world, and his breathing is becoming panting. I can't imagine the dream he's having. Or maybe I can. He's got Cleona bent over the bed, ass out, and me on top of her, straddling her, my ass just above hers. He fucks her until she's on the edge of orgasm, then pulls out and plunges into me, making her listen as he gets me so close it hurts. Back and forth, back and forth...

My lips are around the head of his cock. I'm sucking just the tip of it, very, very gently. He's rock-hard rigid. Can a guy come in his sleep? I'm touching my clit now. Very lightly. I'm going to just toy with this cock and I'm going to come while I do it.

Oh... oh no. Photographer said he'd had drug on his cock. What if Deven did? When they fucked pussy they used condoms, but he might have oiled up his cock with the drug because he knew he'd get sucked. Did I just drug myself? Fuck! Fuck, no!

I jerk back from his cock, and suddenly he bolts upright. His eyes fall on me and there I am, lying with my face near his huge erection and my hand between my legs. He snarls like a wild animal.

"Little slut hasn't had enough, I see."

"Wait, no, I was just... I mean-"

He moves like a snake, and in seconds he's somehow got the sheet bound around my arms, trapped behind my back, with my wrists touching just above my ass, and my elbows close together on either side of my spine. He rolls me onto my back, spreads my legs apart and kneels between them. And Cleona's awake.

"Addicted to the drug already? Clever of you to find the one place in the apartment where you could have get any. No! You do not move. You lie there with your legs wide, wide apart, thinking about what I'm going to do with this erection. You made it this way, doll, now you'll find out what that buys you."

He puts his thumb over my clit, and begins a slow, circular motion. How much drug did I get? How much does it take? Will I be pleading for his cock?

And oh fuck, his thumb knows exactly what to do. Bound, wet, helpless... shit, shit, shit, he's going to have me begging before the drug even takes hold.

Cleona crawls over to me, strokes my nipples with her masses of pretty red hair, and gives a sleepy giggle. "Poor you! Bound up and sooo hungry. I'm going to pretty up your long, dark hair and get your nipples big and hard and then watch him fuck you senseless. Maybe I'll suck your nipples just as you start coming. You'll scream your head off. He'll like that."

Being annoyed at Cleona keeps my mind off my clit for a few moments, but then Deven shoves his thumb in and curls it upward, hard, right into that special place. I spasm in my bonds. Cleona shifts and gets her mouth by my ear.

"He's so big and hard," she whispers, and then licks my ear, very lightly. "Did you do that? Did you make him all thick and merciless and hungry? And you're so helpless. And wet. There's nothing you can do. He's going to slam it into you, over and over, and when you come -- do you think he'll let you come? What if he says no... will you disobey him? Look at his hands. He could hurt you. Or he could work your nipples in those fingers... that hurts but it's the right kind of hurt. It makes your body his, you know what I mean-"

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" I snap at her, but she laughs and braids my hair into a thick ponytail. A handle for Deven.

"You both talk too much," Deven growls, fingering me faster. I realize I'm rubbing his legs and sides with my own legs. I'm starting to feel that weird, shiny, fucktoy feeling, that burn to please and then come and come and come. It mixes with the horror of the understanding that I started all this, and unconsciously, wanted it. "Red, get a condom and put it on my cock."

She obeys. It stretches, tight and shiny, over his hugeness. Her hand slides up and down the length of it, slowly. As if he needed encouragement. I whimper.

"Good slut. Now we're going to play a little game. I'm going to shove myself up inside Jules here. I won't move much. You're going to wiggle your hand in there and work her clit. Make her come with my cock up inside her, whatever it takes. You have ten minutes. And you, Jules... you don't move. You aren't allowed to come. Or make noise. Loser gets punished."

Ten minutes? I'll never make it.

"Oh," says Cloena, wickedly. "Do you have recordings of all the experiments? Can I get the recording of Juliette on the table being fucked by you? And a vibrator?"

Deven frowns. "The recordings are available, but what do you want to do with it?"

"Put the audio on an mp3 player, with earphones on her. And a blindfold."

He grins, goes to a dresser and picks up his iPad thing. A minute of tapping, and then he comes over, with a set of earphones, a strip of black cloth, and a vibrator. The earphones go in and the blindfold goes on.

The vibrator begins to brush against my clit, playfully.

I hear myself moaning, in the recording, and then starting to come.

Deven's cock begins to slide in, slowly.

"Good girl, come for my finger. Over and over. Each one will be more intense. Try not to speak and try to hold back each orgasm as long as you can."

She's grinding the vibrator against my clit, suddenly and firmly. I arch, and then remember I'm not supposed to move. She goes back to teasing me with it, and I feel a fingertip stroking my nipples.

I'm...pretty. I like being touched. I'm a fucktoy. Oh gods, and I mustn't move...

I hear myself coming, explosively, in the recording. It's like reliving it. I clench helplessly, over and over, on a massive cock. The vibrator presses, retreats, presses again. A nipple twist. A finger slides along the bottom of my foot. Overload.

A mouth on my nipple. Cleona's -- no man sucks so gently. Torment. I want to push my nipple deeper into her mouth, but I shouldn't move. The cock in me is throbbing. That fucking vibrator-

In the recording, I hear Cleona begging. And then the blonde: "Please! Cock, please!"

Cleona bites down gently, and starts slapping the vibrator against my clit, over and over, fast.

On the recording, all of us women are moaning, and I hear myself suddenly cry out. "Cock... Fuck me. Pound me, I'm all wet and pretty and helpless, take me! Over and over-"

Over and over and over... I want his cock to fuck me. If I could rock my hips he wouldn't be able to hold still, he'd pound into me, but I'm not supposed to move. Tears are leaking from my eyes... oh gods, I hear him fucking me. I remember his huge hands on my breasts. I remember how uncontrollably I moved my hips for him and now I'm not allowed. Ten minutes of this? Maybe the punishment won't be so bad. Maybe if I just please his cock enough he won't punish me. He's so fucking hard, he must be aching to come. Fuck, is Cleona toying with him? Smiling at him, whispering things? What if he fucks her instead? No, me! It has to be me!

Cleona alternates between fast tapping with the vibrator, and grinding it just above my clit. I start to come, smother it, clench down helplessly on that huge, thick cock... warmth spreads everywhere and another orgasm starts and I force it to stop, force myself not to squeeze down over and over on that luscious hardness... Cleona licks my lips suddenly, and for an agonizing few seconds I think I'm going to lose control; this bitch wants to watch me get punished as she masturbates and I fucking won't give her that but this drug, this impossible, insane, evilly wonderful drug, I have to get away from that horrible vibrator and my arms being bound is so... so... and the sounds of my own moans as I'm fucked like the horny slut that I am-

An earphone is removed, and Cleona licks my ear, sensually, and then whispers: "Beg to be raped. Men like hearing that. Beg him to rape your helpless body and he'll do it, so fast and hard... say it. Say it. Say 'Rape Me'."

I'll kill her when I'm free, I swear I'll scratch her up so bad oh fuck, oh fuck, and the bitch is thrusting her tongue into my ear in sync with the movement of the vibrator, overwhelming ache, hunger, fucklust must must-

"Do me! Rape me! Fuck it hurts so bad I'm coming, coming-"

One huge hand on my throat, and other on my breast, and Cleona is panting and gasping in my ear as that monster cock pounds me, and I come wildly, hips rocking up and down to work his cock, total fuckbliss, I'm such a slut and it feels so impossibly good, peak after massive peak-

And as I crash to a stop, Cleona's body is thrown across mine and he's fucking her, but denying her again, and now it's her begging to be raped harder and allowed to come. I hear him slap her and then he comes, and she weeps in need and whispers in a little girl voice, saying she'll do anything he ever wants. I shudder in something between horror and erotic aching at her words.

He collapses onto the bed, panting, and untangles me from her, and I uncover my eyes. Cleona is writhing on the bed in frustration, and as I watch, he ties her up in the sheets next. Then he puts the vibrator in my hand.

"She must not come," he tells me. "But make sure she wants to so badly she's insane."

"No," Cleona whispers. "She'll be cruel."

Oh yeah. Yes, I will.

It's not that I hate her, at least not now that I've come. But there's something twisted about her, and the idea of punishing her is fascinating. I blindfold her, smiling sweetly. "Baby was bad," I tell her, mockingly. I run the vibrator over her very hard, sensitive nipples, lightly. She gasps, her head tossing back and forth. I slap her face, suddenly, and she cries out. I go back to toying with her nipples.

"Good girls get to come," I tell her, giving her nipples the lightest possible caress with the buzzing head of the vibrator.

"I'm good," she whispers pathetically. I slap her again.

"No. You're bad. Open your legs, wide apart. I want Deven to see what a little slut you are."

Moaning, she obeys. I apply the vibrator, lightly, where she desperately wants it.

"How many men have you been with at once?" I ask her, petting lightly.




Drug Trial Ch. 02



"F-four."

"Tell me what they did with you."

"Got me drunk. Tied me up. They had a contest, taking turns, who could fuck me the longest without coming. You know -- a minute each, then two minutes each, then three... stop, please stop..."

I slide off her, apply the vibrator to her clit again, more carefully. Deven is watching me carefully.

"Did you like it?"

"No. Yes. They bet money on it. By five minutes each, they'd been doing me for an hour. I wasn't allowed to come. They had to gag me. Finally one of them lost and the other three... fingers and cocks until I couldn't breathe, and then they came on me and made me sleep like that... the next day I had to be ready to be taken whenever they wanted. I masturbated to stay wet for them, all day. They'd randomly just... please! Please let me come! Juliette! Please. You're not cruel. Don't be cruel. When it hurts like this I get... please, anything!"

I rub the vibrator against her, hard, then lift it away just as her belly began to spasm. When it stops I finger her, briefly. She thrashes.

"You like the drug, don't you."

"Yes," she whimpers, her head tossing back and forth in agony. Suddenly Deven's hand is on my thigh, stroking slowly.

I pull back the hood of her clit and brush the vibrator against it, very lightly and briefly. She screams, thrashing in her bonds. I take it away again and stroke just the opening of her slit, with a fingertip.

Deven kneels in against me, behind me, leaning me back against him a little. His other hand cups my breast. It's oddly affectionate. The two of us cuddling, tormenting Cleona.

I plunge three fingers into Cleona suddenly, and curl them very slowly inside her. She screams and quakes from head to toe, and I press with the vibrator... and stop again. She sobs like a baby, incoherently.

Deven gets up suddenly, retrieves his iPod and selects something on it. He puts the earbuds into Cleona's ears. She moans pathetically.

"Follow me," he tells me. I leave the vibrator between Cleona's breasts, and follow him to the living room.

**

"You hate her guts," he says without preamble.

"Nope," I reply. "I do sort of pity her -- there's abuse in her background. But that, in there, that was just payback, nothing more."

"Be very, very honest. Did doing that to her bother you?"

I hesitate, and decide honesty can't hurt me now. "A little. I don't know if I'd do it again. Maybe."

He's looking at me, carefully.

"There was no drug on my cock," he says. "I let you think there was, but when you were asleep I'd washed up, cock and all. Everything you felt, that was you."

I blush bright pink. "Then I guess I'm as much of a slut as Cleona?"

"Do you really think you're the same as her?"

"No."

"Let me suggest something. You'll be shocked, but hear me out. You could stay here."

"With you?"

"With the organization, but yes, also with me."

"You're very kind," I say, a little sarcastically.

"I'm offering you a job. One you might like. The salary is impressive. I'll let you decide what you think of the fringe benefits, by which I mean me. You'd live in the Caribbean like a queen. You'll help market, among other things."

"You think your drug needs to be marketed? How much actual marketing happens on the black market?"

"A lot, actually. Look -- you marketed lingerie. Lingerie is a sex drug, too, it just happens to be legal."

"Not the same thing, sorry. So you're a fringe benefit. I get you to myself?"

"No. And you aren't confined to me. But I think we'll spend time together."

"And I'll be drugged?"

"We don't force the drug on our own people. But it will be there if you want it."

"I make one forty five at the moment. What are you offering?"

"Depends on what the group agrees to. But you'll get significantly more than that."

"Going to offer to Cleona, as well?"

"Let's not be ridiculous. She's unstable. And weak."

"And you think I'll just work here and won't ever turn you over to the police."

"You'd be killed. Let's not talk stupid. My employers are not nice people, but if you play by the rules, so do they."

I look at him. "What prompted this?"

"Part of my job is recruiting. You're bright. You're fucking hot. You handle yourself well."

"So having me fuck with Cleona was a test?"

He smiles. "Half test, half fair play. She really was being a scheming little bitch, and we both knew it."

Cleona suddenly shrieked "PLEASE HAVE MERCY! COME BACK! LET ME COME! I HAVE TO!"

"I guess that recording is getting to her," he chuckles.

"What is it?"

"A girl with two guys. There's spanking and rough fucking. Very much her thing."

Cleona shrieks again, incoherently, and Deven gets up. I watch as he goes through the doorway and spends a minute fitting her with a ball gag, and then shoves the vibrator under her ass. He walks out, smiling. "I'm being a little cruel, myself. The vibrator will shake her just enough to keep her wanting, but not enough to set her off. A half hour, you think?"

"She'll be a broken woman."

"Already is. So. My offer?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"Not if I can have you."

I blink at him. "You don't know me well enough to even make this offer."

"I know you're thinking about it."

"You drown non-compliant women. That's a deal breaker."

"We haven't had to yet. The threat has always been enough."

"I have ethical issues with your drug."

"The drug is reality. It's inevitable. You can't stop it, but you can profit by it. Millions."

"It will get reverse engineered and you'll be undersold."

"You'll negotiate distribution channels to help solve that problem."

I tapped my breast. "Marketing, not sales."

"Criminal organizations tend to be flexible in role assignment."

I stare at him, and suddenly I smile. "I'm sure they are. Kiss me."

It's his turn to blink. "Excuse me?"

"Kiss me. How a man kisses a woman tells the woman everything about the man. You'd be surprised how few men can lie through a kiss. If you want me around, a kiss shouldn't be a problem."

He moves like a snake, pulling my body against his and settling a hand behind my neck. He's firm without being rough, and the kiss is....

I suck at describing kisses. But it was sensual without being about lust, affectionate without being mushy, firm without being too arrogant. When he breaks it, I stare into his eyes, steadily.

"Well?"

"I'm thinking," I say, softly.