A Psychological Turn of Mind

She began to keen, a quiet, almost plaintive moaning but there was no sadness associated with it. The brightness in her eyes and the more urgent rise and fall of her chest betrayed her ever growing excitement and her fingers began to move more quickly creating a deep sucking sound.

With a growing sense of urgency she introduced a third finger and drove them inside herself right up to the meat of her hand. The effort caused a fine sheen of perspiration to form on her inner thighs and the heat transmitted itself to my captive face.

She was breathing hard but she managed a hoarse whisper.

"This is for you babe...it's all for you."

She slipped her fingers free and put her hand out to one side to help support her weight. Her sex remained open a raw, wet, pit and then her body began to convulse.

When the first hot spurt struck my face I squealed. As it began to run down my cheek a second gobbet hit me and then, over the next few seconds, she carried on ejaculating spasmodically covering my face.

When it was over she collapsed, completely spent, and I felt dirty and humiliated.

"Give me a moment and then you can clean me up."

I wanted to kill her but I had to keep my anger in check. I could do nothing whilst I was still trapped and I sensed that I would only make things worse for myself if I antagonized them.

Whilst my tormentress was still recovering Catherine walked back into view. She had her back to me and was naked but for a network of black leather straps which girded her waist and thighs. They also criss-crossed her taut buttocks forming a stark contrast against her perfect creamy skin.

"Wet it for me."

She straddled the shoulders of her prone companion and I could now see the black phallus jutting out eight inches from her groin. Under other circumstances I would have laughed at the absurdity of it. If women wanted to do without men than why the hell did they try to imitate them?

I wanted to ridicule them as she pushed the shaft down so that her friend could take it into her mouth but I have to confess that, for a brief moment, as I watched her expertly fellating it, I felt an undesired twinge of excitement.

They played out the pantomime for moment or two but I was determined that there was no way that I was going to lick her just to get her ready for Catherine to attend to her with her strap on monstrosity.

How could I have been so naive?

Catherine got up smiling, with the hideous shaft glistening with saliva, leaving her friend to take up her position on the cushion once more. Trudi could see, as I could, that her arms were too tired after her exertions to take her weight and so she put down her camera and knelt behind her to give her support.

This left her free to use her fingers to present her sex which was now a wet mess.

"Are you ready for a taste?"

Her tone was almost a taunt and my anger got the better of me.

"Go to hell."

This was Catherine's cue and I screamed in surprise. She had moved behind me and I now felt her cool hands on my buttocks and the unyielding shaft pressed against my sex.

"Please!..Don't!"

I braced myself for the inevitable pain but, as she leant her weight into me, I felt my sex opening to accept the intrusion. Having breached the portal she paused and I was left feeling ashamed at how wet I had obviously become.

After a few seconds, during which I raised no further protest, she pushed gently and I felt the shaft begin to fill me inch by inch.

I have had my fair share of men, and I am not shy when it comes to using vibrators, but I had never accommodated anything quite as large as this. By the time I felt the heat of her thighs pressed against my buttocks it felt decidedly uncomfortable.

I dared not move but then I felt Catherine's fingertips on the outside of my thighs. Men always seem to feel the need to hang on tight, sometimes painfully so, but Catherine's touch was gossamer light. She stroked lovingly, causing my nerve ends to tingle and deep inside I felt my muscles miraculously relaxing.

What, only seconds ago, had been an unwanted invasion now became a pleasurable distension. When she began to slowly withdraw I wanted to move back with her but she moved her fingertips upwards until they were gently pressing on my buttocks in a clear signal to stay still.

She almost pulled out altogether, leaving me with an empty feeling both physical and mental, and I could not help but groan when she slowly filled me once more.

For the next moment or two she repeated the process whilst, at the same time, her fingers continued to tantalize. I felt like a slut as I reveled in the sensations and the more so when the air was punctuated by a sound like water leaving a plug hole. I was incredibly wet and Catherine began to pick up speed.

Daniel is a considerate lover but, notwithstanding his prowess and stamina, there was always the possibility he would race to a finish before I was ready. With Catherine there was no such anxiety. The shaft would not loose it's firmness but, better still, she found my natural rhythm.

When making love there is a point at which the pace and degree of penetration is just right and, if I can surf that moment, I know that I can enjoy the most intense orgasms but men just cannot tune into it.

It was as though Catherine could divine my body with her fingertips. She picked up the cadence and I began to soar but, no sooner had I taken flight, than she slowed to a stop. I immediately opened my eyes and tried to look back at her.

"Please..!"

"She'll start again when I think you're doing a good job."

The dark haired girl, forgotten up to then, was preening her sex from which the smell rose like damp clothes in front of a fire. The prospect was unedifying but I would have done anything just then to make Catherine begin once more.

I strained my neck and she smiled but, after a second or two, she shifted forward and I was able to lick. The taste was cold, a little sour, but now that she was assured of my submission she warmed quickly and I was surprised at how wet she became given her previous display.

She was obviously pleased with my performance because I felt the tender caress of Catherine's fingers once more and then the shaft began to move. This time she teased me a little going just slightly slower than the perfect rhythm.

In a demented twist of logic I licked faster and deeper in the hope that the Catherine would pick up on the girls satisfaction and reciprocate and so it proved. She moved a little so that I could fasten on to her clitoris and used a hand on the back of head to keep me just so.

Catherine immediately picked up the beat. She was no longer driving to the hilt but it was more than deep enough. Beads of sweat dripped from my hairline to form a salty counterpoint to the nectar which I now craved, As my orgasm built I was sucking and swallowing hard. Her scent filled my nostrils and her taste cloyed in my mouth but I wanted more of it.

Sensing my need she shifted upwards, allowing my tongue to go deep, and then she began to rub he clitoris at a dizzying speed. In the following seconds I thought I would go insane with pleasure. The first waves of my orgasm broke over me and, at the same time, my mouth was filled with a hot flood. I was not so much breathing as snorting.

I started to relax waiting for the inevitable softening and the warm afterglow but this was different. Catherine barely paused. She kept up the same powerful, but tender, piston movement.

I thought I had no more to give but she knew better. She drove deep a couple of times, coaxing me, and I felt the wave rising again. In front of me the girl pushed her fingers deep inside and then offered them up to my mouth. I sucked on them as though it were the sweetest taste in the world as Catherine took me over the edge once more.

When it was over Catherine slipped from me and I was suddenly aware of different pains across my whole body. My neck, shoulder and back ached terribly and my knees felt swollen.

The dark haired girl had got up from in front of me leaving me feeling exposed but I was relieved when she reached for the lever.

"Wait a moment."

Trudi had also got to her feet and it appeared that she had reached a hasty decision. Whilst I watched she quickly stripped out of her clothes and I got a sense that this had not been part of the script.

I guessed that Trudi was a year or two older than me but her stylishly cut blonde hair, with its fetching fringe, made her appear younger Despite her pale colouring she had large green eyes and I suspected that there was some Celtic blood coursing in her veins.

She sat on the cushion and placed her legs over the yoke but she lacked the natural grace of the two models. That was, perhaps, an unfair comparison; she was a woman who would turn heads. She had breasts that a man would find desirable but a female might consider just a little too heavy and if one was being critical she could shed a couple of pounds but the fact was, like her or not, I was in no position to be choosey.

"Please, I've had enough."

"The sooner you get started the sooner you'll be free."

She had obviously been aroused for some time. She maintained a lush growth of hair but it was damp and flattened exposing her prominent labia at the apex of which her clitoris was already exposed.

Over the past half an hour my face, nose and mouth had been coated with moisture and I would have expected my senses to be dulled but, as Trudi edged forward, my nostrils twitched as they once again picked up on her rich earthy scent.

To start with I refused to co-operate but it availed me nothing.

"I can stay here for as long as it takes...can you?"

The fact was that every muscle in my body seemed to be protesting. I tried moving a little and that brought some ease but, after a time I found that I was just swapping one pain for another.

Loathe as I was I had to do as she wanted.

Catherine and her dark haired companion were standing watching, laughing at my predicament, and that only increased my ire, but pragmatism won out. I extended my weary tongue and began to lick.

Trudi shivered at my first touch and she literally oozed moisture. It was if she had been holding back all this time and my tongue was the key to turning the valve. It may have been this that made the taste richer and I instinctively began to lick with the flat of my tongue seeking out every variation.

Trudi started to moan, sounding like a porn film soundtrack, but there was nothing fake about it. I quickly reached the conclusion that this was her first experience with another woman and, knowing that I now exercised a modicum of control, I counted it as a small victory.

I slipped my tongue onto her clitoris and she drew a sharp breath. It felt firm, like a tiny pebble half buried in sand, and I licked as if to free it.

Trudi went into a paroxysm and I licked lower harvesting the moist product of her heightened arousal. She was breathing unevenly and shifting her position encouraging me to concentrate on her clitoris once again but I played out my advantage.

I pushed my tongue inside her where it was immediately clamped tight. Breathing was difficult, not least because my cramped position applied pressure to my lungs, but each time I breathed out the warmth excited her even more.

We remained in stasis for a moment or two until she finally forced the issue. She brought her thighs together pressing uncomfortably against my ears. Now I could not breathe at all and I felt my face flush in a panicked response. She gave it a few seconds and no words were needed. She relaxed her muscles and I capitulated.

I withdrew my tongue and licked her as she wanted. Almost immediately her body began to shake and, as her climax began to build, she thrust her pelvis at me adding an extra strain to my already tortured neck. In response I licked more frantically, flicking my tongue in tiny movements, and I felt her clitoris swell very slightly. It was then that the dam burst. She thrust herself at me one last time and, with a drawn out scream, she started to come.

I could hear her hands and feet clawing at the floor as she tried to squeeze out the last ounce of pleasure and then she simply collapsed.

I was totally spent but I could not escape her sex which was still leaking just inches in front of me whilst her heavy breasts rose and fell as she struggled for breath.

Chapter 3

They released me. I got dressed. I left.

There were no histrionics. I could have shouted at them, perhaps I might have struck out, but there were three of them and what would it have availed me other than to compound my humiliation?

Over the next few days I could not get the incident out of my mind. I had been kept against my will, I had been sexually assaulted but I had also experienced one of the most shattering orgasms of my life. Nothing made sense.

Of course I considered the possibility that I might be a lesbian but then I had a 'dirty' phone conversation with Daniel. We had done it a couple of times before but this time I was really in to it. We would both masturbate, whilst talking on the phone, and then describe, in graphic detail, what we were doing and how it felt. The result was that I had an amazing orgasm; it was almost as if I could feel him inside of me.

When I put the phone down I was crying. I missed him terribly but at least I had convinced myself that I was normal.

At the University we were heading into the exam season and the longer hours helped me to keep my mind occupied and ensured that, once I got to bed, I did nothing but sleep. It was exactly a fortnight later that the incident was forcefully brought back to mind.

I was called in to see Nadine Dexter, my head of department. At best, my relationship with Nadine, could be described as cordial. She was a Californian, ten years my senior, but, in my view, my intellectual inferior.

It galled me, and others, that she held the universities chair of psychology, but it had been endowed by her property magnate father who could deny his only daughter nothing. She was well qualified, that was not in doubt, and she had published a number of papers, albeit that allegations of plagiarism lurked in the background, it was just that she had no drive.

Having become one of the youngest doctors ever to hold a chair in an English university she seemed content to rest on her laurels. Her nickname amongst the staff was 'Sinister' Dexter.

As I walked into her office I had trouble keeping my eyes off her chest. She had recently been back to California for a couple of weeks and the rumour was that she had taken the opportunity to have a breast augmentation.

It would not have been her first surgery. She was a beautiful woman but she was determined to give nature a helping hand. To my knowledge she had had work done on her eyes and her nose and I had a suspicion that she had handed her surgeon a photograph of Demi Moore to use as a template. Her resemblance to the actress could not be denied.

As ever, her office was impeccably tidy. It was one of the biggest on campus and overlooked the grassed quadrangle. The walls were oak paneled with original book shelves and she had supplemented it, at her own expense, with a large antique desk and leather armchairs.

"Take a seat."

I sat down, assuming that she wanted to discuss exam timetables, but then I saw the galley proofs on her desk.

"I've just signed the release for your article."

I already had financial dispensation from the bursar and it galled me that her approval of the content was required but it was a university stipulation as I was writing in my capacity as a lecturer and the institution was mentioned by name.

"It's very good and this photo really does you justice."

I felt a small swell of pride. Trudi was a bitch but she was also an exceptional photographer. The finished photograph to accompany the article really did make me look a bit of a minx. I wondered how I could get an original to send to Daniel.

"Thanks very much. Is that all?"

I got up to leave but she pulled me up short.

"Sorry, yes, there is one other thing. I found this amongst the proofs."

She handed me another photograph and I was instantly chilled by a cold sweat. It was a shot taken over the shoulder of the dark haired girl and it had been taken in such a way as to suggest that my face was buried between her legs.

"I have no objection to you having a few personal shots taken but I have to consider the universities reputation."

My mind was in turmoil. It was conceivable that the photograph had found its way into the envelope with the proofs by mistake but it was far more likely that it had been done deliberately. The more I had thought about it the more I was convinced that the incident with Trudi and the two girls had been orchestrated and the only name that made sense was Liana. But why had she set out to ruin me? I needed time to think.

"This is somebody's idea of a joke."

"That's as maybe, but what if this got into the press? I think it would be in the best interests of all of us if you were to tender your resignation. You could then sue the perpetrator if you wish and after a decent interval we could consider your reinstatement."

It made no sense. She had approved my article but was now effectively sacking me to save the universities good name. My anger got the better of me.

"Is this something personal? Do you begrudge me my recent successes?"

Her reply was not what I expected.

"Do I begrudge you? No. What I object to is your haughty attitude. I know that you don't like me overmuch but I resent the way that you continually look down your nose at me with that English superiority of yours."

My innate sense of good manners made me feel guilty. I had no idea that she perceived me this way.

"Look, Nadine, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause offence. It's obvious that someone is up to mischief I just need a couple of days to find out what's going on."

She said nothing in reply and looked totally unmoved.

"Come on, you know yourself, If I resign there will be rumours, there always are, this would not be good for me."

"Perhaps you should have considered that before. Besides, people are far more tolerant of lesbianism nowadays."

"I'm telling you I am not a lesbian."

"That's a pity because I was going to suggest a compromise."

I had a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach and my worst fears were more than realized as she slowly wheeled her chair back from her desk. She was completely naked from the waist down.

Thoughts tumbled over one another. Her intent was clear but I could not come to terms with it.

"But you're straight. You're engaged."

She smiled as she leaned forward and laid the framed photograph of her fiancé face down on the desk.

"What the eye doesn't see..."

I felt unnaturally warm and feared that I might faint but, with a final effort of will, I turned away towards the door.

"If you leave now I'll block your article and let the dean know why."

I froze in my tracks and then turned to face her. When I spoke it took a conscious effort not to swear.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can. If you had the power to make another woman go down on you, knowing she could not refuse, would you exercise it?"

"Of course not!"

Even as I spoke the words I doubted myself. What if the roles had been reversed?

If it had been me sitting in the chair? For a second or two I conjured up the vision and it caused an unnerving tingle between my legs.

I hated myself for the things that I had been recently made to do but, no matter how hard I tried to put it from my mind, one thought kept on intruding. Catherine had revealed things about my body that I was previously unaware of and I knew that, ingénue that I was, I was capable of taking a woman to new levels using my mouth. Now I wanted to know what it was like.