All Things to All People Ch. 05

While she was working on his cock, she felt a pair of hands pulling her hips up and back, moving her from kneeling to bent over on her knees. Then anther cock entered her cunt, sliding easily into the well lubricated lips. She moaned around the cock in her mouth as the empty feeling in her pussy was filled. She began to face fuck McMasters in time with clenching her pussy around the other man. Her mouth received the first load of cum, and she could tell from the smell of him, that he wanted her to not swallow. He pumped his load into her mouth, some of it leaking out the corners and dribbling down her chin.

The chair was pulled back and one of the women bent her head under Cynthia's and opened her mouth wide. Realizing what to do, Cynthia let the cum drip out into the woman's mouth, some of it splattering on her face. When the sensuous transfer had been completed, Cynthia's head dipped down and the two women licked the spillage off of each other's faces. They ended in a long passionate kiss with each trying to get the last of the cum flavor out of the other's mouth.

The woman pulled herself farther beneath Cynthia, leaving her cunt in front of Cynthia's face. Sensing the desire in the nearby men, she plunged her face into the cunt below her and licked the pussy with deep aggressive strokes that started at the clit, delved between the inner and outer lips and neded at the ass. The woman was licking the cock going in and out of Cynthia's pussy, savoring the mixture of precum and cunt juice that lubricated it. This added stimulation was all that was needed to send the guy over the edge, emptying his cum into Cynthia's cunt.

He pulled out, dripping more cum on the other woman. She in turn, pulled Cynthia down onto her face, eating the cum out of her pussy, and sending Cynthia into a frenzy of arousal. The two women were now engrossed in each other's body. Cynthia was discovering that there was cum in the woman and buried her tongue deep to get it all. While the woman had more skill at eating other women, Cynthia had a head start, allowing the two to hit their orgasms at almost the same time. While Cynthia shuddered on top of the woman, she went rigid, her muscles locking in the intensity of her cum.

As she descended from her climax, Cynthia detected other aromas, other desires to satisfy. She crawled over to a black man lying on the floor, slowly stroking his cock, already hard from watching the show. She positioned herself over his cock, and after giving him a long slow kiss that promised future excitement, she sank herself onto his shaft. As he began to pump himself into her, she felt a mouth at her ass, dribbling liberal amounts of spit onto it, the tongue pushing the oral lube into the hole. Then a hard, cold object pressed against her ass, forcing itself in inch by inch. A cock appeared in front of her mouth and she opened, allowing her face to be fucked as well.

Now three cocks were plunging into Cynthia, two real, one artificial. Her body relaxed, accommodating the triple penetration with an ease that surprised everyone there. The cock in her mouth spasmed, filling her again with cum. She swallowed the fluid, just in time for a pussy to replace the cock. Cynthia started to lick at the folds of pussy, capturing the drops of fluid that were constantly forming there. The dildo fucking her cunt was shoving her face into the pussy with regular and hard thrusts. Her nose kept hitting the clit in front of it, sending that woman into an orgasm of her own. Not long after that, the cock in her pussy exploded, pumping massive amounts cum into Cynthia's pussy. The hot cum triggered Cynthia's own orgasm, her body once again shuddering under the pleasure overload.

Those vibrations walked back along the dildo, to the cunt it was strapped to, sending the woman fucking Cynthia's ass into her own orgasm. She fell back, the strap on pulling free with a plop. The manager, his cock having recovered from its previous orgasm, came up behind Cynthia and plunged into her ass, still stretched by the dildo. Instead of pumping himself, he reached underneath and fingered her clit, sending her on another express ride to orgasm. So close to the last one, it took little time to reach climax yet again. The spasms in her ass, were what McMasters was waiting for, and he erupted again, filling her cunt with cum.

With all the men temporarily satiated, the strength of desire in them went down, allowing Cynthia to move back into control. She popped another cough drop to dull the smells and asked, "Mr. McMasters, could I get another key to my apartment? I lost the one I had."

Lost in the afterglow, he did not think about how out of place such a request sounded. He went to the key safe in his office and retrieved one of the spares for her. Cynthia had quickly dressed, not even trying to clean herself, hoping to get out before male desires renewed enough to coax Kitten back out. With cum and pussy juice seeping through he clothes, she bolted up the stairs, reaching her apartment without encountering another soul.

Once inside, she took a shower and threw the cum soaked clothes in the washer. Finally she was free of the scent of men and their wants. Tired, and her shoulder sore from the strain she was not supposed to have put on it, Cynthia went to bed and slept soundly. She awoke twice, needing to rewrap her arm and use the toilet. She did not get up until twelve hours after she had stepped through the door of her apartment.

When she awoke, Cynthia took stock of her apartment. A fair amount of the food in her fridge had gone bad, including her milk. The answering machine had 14 messages on it. They were a variety of calls from Dave, Rob and her supervisor in the department, all asking if she had returned and if she was all right. The last one, from Dave, was different.

"Cynthia, I figured out that if you survived at all that you might feel like you had to find some way to survive the problem, making it work for you. I'm going to look for you on prostitute row. If I find you, I'll bring you back and do what you said you wanted done once the chemical had finished its work. You're my friend and I won't let you down."

"Oh my God. He's going to find me and kill me, thinking that my sense of self is totally gone. I've got to talk to him before he finds me," she said to herself.

Picking up the phone, she dialed Dave's number. The voicemail picked up and she left a message. "Dave, I'm at home again. The damage stopped, there's still me left. You don't need to do it. Call me, I have an idea for a cure, or something. I need your detailed knowledge of biology. Call me."

Next, she made a shopping list and went to the local store. Cough drops in mouth, she picked up replacement perishables. She knew she was putting off the hardest task in front of her, talking to Rob. She just did not know how she was going to explain the last two weeks to him. Yes, he wanted her to sleep with him, but he was always a fan of monogamy. Spending a week as a hooker was not what anyone would call monogamy. How would he handle the knowledge that she had to give some man whatever he wanted every two or three days to remain capable of doing anything?

Returning from the store, she ran into Mr. McMasters. "Hi Cynthia. Will you be wanting to join us next Wednesday. Everyone really enjoyed your presence at the party."

Forcing a smile, she dithered, "I don't know. I'll have to check what my school schedule looks like."

She put her groceries away and saw that the time was 3:15. "Rob should be back at the frat house. I should go and see him, let him know that I'm back and okay, somewhat," she mused. Half an hour passed and she had not left, standing and thinking about it. She really did not want to, dreading the conversation. As long as she did not go to Rob, she could still believe that he loved her. The decision was put off when the phone rang. Answering she heard a voice of an angel.

"Cynthia, this is Dave."

"Dave! I'm so glad to here from you. Where are you?"

"I'm driving into town. I just talked to a woman named Gloria. Are you all right?"

"I guess. I'm still trying to have sex with every man I meet, it seems. There's a lot to tell you. When will you be here?"

"I'll be about an hour. I'm just leaving the city. Stay in your apartment and don't let anyone in. we don't want you going off again, if we can help it. Do you need any more cough drops?"

"I've got a bunch. I've been stocking up when I can."

"Good. I'll call you when I'm parking so you can take one before I get there."

"Thanks, Dave. You're a good friend."

Cynthia called her advisor and left a message that she was back on campus, that she had been attacked and hurt. She asked if she could have a few more days off, maybe come in on Monday. The hour passed slowly, like all waiting time does. When Dave called from downstairs she took a cough drop and, when he knocked, she opened the door and embraced him in a hug. Her emotions, closed for so long, were beginning to surface, finally in a safe place with a safe person.

"Cynthia, what happened to you. I remember being hit over the head, then I woke in a hospital room days later."

"They were drug dealers, meth. They took me to their lab and used me for their pleasure. Oh God, Dave, I let them, encouraged them."

The words spoken, the reality truly looked at, she broke down. Everything from the last two weeks came rushing in and overwhelmed her. The young lady who had been waiting for marriage to lose her virginity was face to face with the fact that she would give any man any sex they wanted any time they wanted, no matter what she believed. She had sold herself for money and let people beat up on her because that is what they wanted. She had even come close to allowing herself to be murdered. In the safety of her apartment, with the only man she had not tried to have sex with since the accident, the feelings that had been squashed down for survival's sake came welling up out of her. Pain, misery, shame and hopelessness was not a cocktail to be ignored long.

Dave, not the best at relating to people, was at a loss, unable to find a thing to say. He wanted to fix it, make the pain go away. In his inexperience, he simply held her and let her cry. Curiously, this was exactly what she needed, to simply allow herself to catch up with her emotions. Cynthia took comfort in the warmth of his embrace, safe in the non-sexual context of it. Even the tacit knowledge that he knew she had turned tricks and still came to her was a powerful balm to her heart. The tears came and went, very little said, for the next hour and a half (the nasal congestion that goes with sobbing kept her normal).

Dave, after she had finished crying for a while, gave her another cough drop, not wanting the meek Cynthia right now. "Cynthia, don't take this wrong, but why are you still around, the normal you, I mean?"

"I don't know. I can only imagine that the poisons from the meth lab somehow canceled the poison that was killing my sense of self. Unfortunately, those same fumes induced a memory loss. I didn't know who I was for a week. The memories didn't come back until I was fleeing for my life. Possibly from an adrenalin surge."

"Yeah, that can happen. Tell me everything. How did you survive? Most I important, how is the problem manifesting now? Has there been any changes?"

Skipping the details of the actual sex acts, Cynthia related everything that had happened over the two weeks from the encounter with Gloria at the 7-11, the time in Sister Anne's, the encounter with the abusive husband, the discovery that she needed to experience a man scent every two to three days, her decision to work as a prostitute (Dave commented that that was the smartest choice in the circumstances), the development of Sex kitten as an alternate personality, the near murder, the recovered memories, the return home and the disaster trying to get her keys and the uneasiness at talking to Rob. At his prompting, she explained how she was able to get treated in the hospital, guessing that the antiseptic smell kept the more distant male odors masked.

Finally, she told him about the idea that Gloria sparked in her. "Dave, what if there was some way to program my nose to only react to a single man's scent? Or at least a reduced number of men's scents. I escaped from the meth lab because I had acclimated to the scents there. That let the real me act long enough to take action. Is there any way to acclimate my sense of smell to all but one man?"

Dave thought a while. He knew that in nature, there were cases where creatures could find their relatives by smell alone. Each body odor was unique. But, in some cases, the recognition extended to blood relatives that they had never met before. That suggested a genetic component.

"In theory, your enhanced sense of smell should be able to detect more than just sexual likings. In fact, that first night with Rob, recall, you were noticing other smells as well. It's like your receptors became more particular as time went on. With Rob, what were you aware of him wanting?"

"I just wanted sex with him, general sex."

"And at the frat house?"

"I wanted what they wanted. It was like I was anticipating their requests."

"And the security guard?"

"I knew... I seem to know that her wanted to be tied up, even though he was not thinking about sex at the time. And before you ask, I never knew whether the gang bangers got what they wanted."

"Still, we have a pattern. You sense of smell was refining, to the point where you could sense what men wanted in their subconscious. I'm not sure, but I suspect it would be even more sensitive if the math lab fumes had not somehow burned it out of you system. But was the same chemical that was destroying your sense of self, the one that was enhancing your sense of smell?"

"We could try to run some tests on the compound. Do you still have samples from the blood test and Philmore?"

"We should. This may be possible. But even if we can isolate the chemical that modifies your sense of smell, we would have to somehow link it to a particular aroma. That would mean somehow linking the chemical to a genetic profile of some sort, in some way. That's beyond me, I'm afraid." "Isn't Carl Menthe doing research on genetic immunity in plants?"

"Yeah. He's trying to insert a gene into the plants that makes them immune to certain diseases by way of a viral agent."

"I remember that he had the chemistry department do an experiment on splicing the disease gene onto the viral gene, finding if a certain chemical would accomplish the goal. I don't know what the result was."

"It's a start. First, we need to find out if the two actions of the poison can be separated. I'll pick you up tomorrow and we'll make some tests in the lab."

"Okay. Dave?"

"Yes?"

"You know how I don't come onto you sexually?"

"Yes?" Dave had been dreading this conversation. He did not want to admit what was going on, but felt Cynthia could not be lied to on this subject.

"Sex Kitten says that we act docile around you because you wants a woman who will defer to you in all things, treat you like you're the most important thing in the world and be willing to do anything you ask. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"You want a slave? Am I going to be your slave whenever I don't have a cough drop in my mouth?"

"Cynthia, I would never take advantage of you like that. I don't want a slave, I want a submissive woman. Someone who makes a choice to submit her life to my control because she trusts me and loves me. That's why I've never taken advantage of you when you're docile around me. You can't choose, you can only react."

"Do you think that there are women who would do that, give someone else control over themselves?"

"Yes, in fact, there's a whole subculture of people who dominate and submit. They call what they practice D/s or BSDM. Not everyone, in fact most, don't need love to be in the equation. I do, so I have not found a submissive woman that I am in love with, who loves me and who wishes to be submissive to me."

"Dave, that is so weird. I'm sure glad I haven't run into any of them."

"Actually, you probably did. The nurse and her friend, they sounded like a dominant couple who hired prostitutes for their submissives."

"Wow. Well, I'd better get to sleep if we're going to hit the labs tomorrow" Cynthia had noted that it was now after 9 PM.

"Yeah. I'll be by about 6, okay?"

"Right."

Cynthia fixed herself some dinner and went to bed, setting the alarm for 4:30. "Strange, that's when I would be going to bed a week ago," she though as she fell asleep.

Dave was prompt and they drove to the science building. They found an isolation lab that they could work in, justifying it since they were working with a compound that contained potassium chlorinate. They set up a beaker of ammonia between them to give Cynthia a break from the constant need for cough drops. They were able to determine that the 'compound' was actually a mixture of three compounds. Two of the three contained potassium chlorinate merged with another substance. The third was two substances merged without potassium chlorinate. Because of her work, she was able to identify the two substances as parts of the hormone from the species of mouse she had been working on. Next, they had to determine which compound, or combination of compounds had the desired and undesired effects. They set up six different animal experiments to test each individual compound and the three pairs that could be made from them (they already knew what all three would do). Then they set it up to proceed over night.

As they left, late in the evening, Cynthia said, "Dave, I'm going to walk home. I need to see Rob."

"Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah. I have my Halls. It's really important. I can't put this off if I want to continue to have a relationship with him."

"I understand. Call me to let me know you got home okay. If I don't hear from you by 10, I'm coming and looking for you."

"Thanks Dave."

Cynthia's stomach was increasingly upset as she approached the frat house. She could not get the memory of that day, servicing the guys any way they wanted, before Rob returned to throw them all out. Unfortunately, having all your memories doesn't mean they are useful. She had yet to put together that three of them had wanted to hire her on the street.

She walked up to the door of the house and walked into the public area. Steve, one of the guys from the first encounter in the frat was there. He looked at her with an odd expression in his eyes.

"Steve, is Rob here?"

"Yeah... He's upstairs. What's been going on Cynthia?"

"It's hard to explain. Can I go up and see him."

"Yeah. Are you sure you want to?"

"Is there some reason I shouldn't?"

Steve just stared, unsure what to say to a woman he had fucked two weeks ago, at her insistence, and who he knew was tricking in the city. Cynthia looked at him confused and headed up the stairs. The door to Rob's room was open, both Rob and his roommate doing homework at their desks. Cynthia knocked.

"Rob?"

Both boys turned. The roommate got up, "Uh, I'll be downstairs, in the kitchen." He left, looking almost scared.

Rob's eyes shot daggers of hate. "What are you doing here!"

Fearful, Cynthia spoke softly, "Rob, I just had to talk to you."

Rob stood, his demeanor getting darker. "Oh, you thought maybe it was time to come and collect for the sex we had on our last 'date'. How much do I owe you , whore!"

Cynthia was stunned. Somehow, Rob knew already. "Rob, it's not like that. I was..."

He advanced, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her against the wall. Her cough drop slipped down her throat. "You little whore! Didn't you even recognize the guys who tried to pick you up? You were going to charge them $250 for a blow job each. They got your picture you slut. You want to try to deny it?"