Drug Trial Ch. 02byHandsInTheDark©
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.
"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.