The Cooperative

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Mystery organization helps a woman learn to orgasm.
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"Who recommended you to us, dear?"

"Uh, Nadine Lorimer." Robyn was unable to quiet her nerves all the way. It showed in tiny fidgets of her hands and feet. The fingers of her right hand kept twisting at her wedding ring, despite her efforts to keep them still. She wasn't sure what had disoriented her more: that Nadine had sent her to an erotic novelties store for this interview, or that there was such a conventional businesswoman's office immediately behind the racks of lingerie and leather.

"Nadine's been a member for more than two years, almost since our beginning." The woman smiled pleasantly, if somewhat distantly. "How did you meet?"

"We belong to the same health club."

"I see. My name is Helen, by the way." The two shook hands across the width of the antique cherry desk.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Helen. Are there many women in the cooperative? Nadine didn't say all that much."

Helen smiled more warmly.

"More than I would have expected when I started it, dear. It began as something of a lark, but it appears to have answered a real need. I expect that I'll be splitting the group in half sometime soon, to make for more intimacy and easier management." She sat back in her highbacked leather chair. "What else did Nadine tell you about us?"

Robyn thought a moment.

"She said you were a group of women who helped one another to pursue private goals in strict confidence, that the organization was non-profit, and that members were expected to contribute in proportion to their benefits."

Helen's smile quirked with mischief.

"And what had the two of you been talking about just before that?"

Robyn made a dismissive flip of her hand. "Oh, just trivial stuff. Nothing important."

Nadine had guessed Helen's age at around fifty. However old she was, she was strikingly lovely: thick, midnight black hair, flawless skin, a full bust and long, lean legs, and the posture of a reigning queen. Her assets were set off by a style of dress that was erotic, to say the least: a tight red satin blouse, a glove-leather black miniskirt, black stockings and ankle boots with five-inch stiletto heels. She was also authoritative beyond the ability of a twenty-eight year-old such as Robyn to withstand. She looked directly into Robyn's eyes and bore down slightly on her words.

"Robyn, ours is an organization with a very specific focus. If I'm to know whether you're right for us, I'll have to have your cooperation in finding out. This is, after all, a cooperative."

Robyn colored and giggled nervously.

"Of course, I'm sorry. It's just that...well, you know how girl talk can be. It always sounds perfectly ridiculous to anyone who wasn't there at the time."

Helen said nothing, but kept looking directly into Robyn's eyes. The younger woman swallowed and looked a little away.

"It's really sort of embarrassing."

"It's all right, dear," Helen said softly. "Take your time."

"It was about...fantasies."

"Sexual fantasies?" The older woman's tone conveyed nothing but polite, friendly interest.

"Uh, yes."

"Nadine told you about one or two of hers, and you responded with one or two of yours? That kind of talk?"

"Yes." Helen didn't seem put off; Robyn felt her nerves ratchet down another notch. Still, she couldn't bring herself to discuss the actual details. "Things we'd like to do someday, if they were possible."

"Oh, all things are possible, with planning, preparation, the right helpers and the right equipment."

That got Robyn's attention. "What do you mean?"

Helen's smile turned mysterious. "Think again about what Nadine told you, dear. We help one another pursue private goals, in strictest confidence."

"You mean...?"

The older woman inclined her head. "Exactly."

"But, aren't you all women?"

"Yes, dear. It could never work, otherwise."

"Isn't that a limitation?"

Helen chuckled. "Much less of one than you might imagine."

Robyn's head was beginning to whirl.

"I...I can't tell my husband about this, can I?"

Helen pursed her lips. "No. In fact, you'd be well advised to keep our existence entirely to yourself, whether you decide to join, or not."

The older woman rose from her chair and began to stroll randomly about her office. Robyn watched her, thinking furiously.

"I can see that you're going to need to think about this a bit before you decide. That's all right. Take as long as you want. But you're here because of that conversation with Nadine, who must have thought there was something you needed that we could help you to achieve. Nadine is a very smart girl. How long have you been married, dear?"

The question took Robyn by surprise. "Four years."

"Any dissatisfactions?" Helen had stopped ambling about and was once again looking her full in the eyes.

"Well, a few."

A thousand. We must have made love a thousand times, and I've never yet gotten the charge I've been waiting for. But it can't be Larry's fault!

"We all have them, you know. I was married, some time ago. My husband was a wonderful man -- and I do mean man -- but I always had a few itches he could never scratch. Sometimes they're not even things we could explain to them. Or would be willing to try even if we could. You might say it's the basis of my business."

You've got that right, girlfriend.

Helen stood casually by the side of her desk. "You don't have to make an immediate decision. Go home and think about it a while. It's a commitment of some substance; we don't admit members who won't pull their weight, which means that you'll have to take part in helping others to find their satisfactions, not just lap up what we have to offer you. Some girls can't bring themselves to do that. They feel degraded by it. Give it some thought. Call me only after you've decided you would be willing to take the plunge."

It was a challenge and a dismissal in one. Robyn rose shakily from the guest chair; Helen rose and showed her out.

***

Larry made love to her that night. It was as it always was with him: tender, sweet, and so agonizingly frustrating that she thought she might die of it. It made her want to rend his flesh with her nails and shriek until her lungs burst. Instead, she performed her usual pretenses, until he groaned, spasmed, and collapsed against her.

She had never said a word to him about it. They had been lovers long before they were married, and from the first encounter she had strained to convince him that he was her heart's desire, in this way as in all others. She thanked God for the dramatic training that, even though it had never earned her a nickel and probably never would, had made her lover's deception possible.

Holding him in the dark, his own energies long since spent, she knew she could never leave him. He was too good a man, and much too good to her. She really did love him, despite her unfilled needs, and she would never hurt him. But she knew unimpeachably that she would never find physical fulfillment in her orthodontist husband's embrace. The knowledge, once admitted to her consciousness, shook her to the core.

The next morning, she waited a bare thirty seconds after he left for his office before calling Helen.

***

The group met in Nadine's Beverly Hills home. There were more than thirty members in attendance. The youngest looked barely of marriageable age; the oldest reminded Robyn of her mother.

Nadine had prepared a smorgasbord of light snacks and delectables, and had filled her large living room with chairs and snack tables. Even so, several women had nowhere to sit. Robyn took a place on the floor, legs folded under her, her dish of treats balanced on her lap.

At the appointed time, Helen took charge with natural authority, and introduced Robyn to the group as the cooperative's newest member. The other women looked her up and down as if assessing a side of beef at the market. It was almost enough to make her retract her decision and flee for home. Almost.

"We have a custom of having each new member be the next guest of honor, Robyn. To do that properly, of course, you have to tell us what it is you're hoping to try. Would you do that for us, please?"

The eyes of every woman in the room were upon her.

I knew this would come eventually. It's time to put up or shut up.

Her eyes darted to Nadine, who sat immediately across the large room from her, hunched a little forward, ankles crossed, hands folded on her knees. Nadine gave her a minute nod of encouragement.

If she's done it, I should be able to.

She set her plate aside and rose to her feet. "Well, it's...my husband is really conventional, and --"

One of the other women spoke up. "We don't talk about husbands here."

"Gently, Sue, gently." Helen smiled at Robyn. "Go on, dear."

Robyn looked down at the floor. "I've never...gotten there."

A gasp traveled around the room.

"Never?"

Robyn looked up again, but with all of them staring at her, she couldn't guess who had spoken last.

"Never. Not even by hand."

Silence stretched forward as the others digested it.

"What do you think you need?" Helen's voice was soft.

Robyn swallowed. "To feel full."

Sue nodded knowingly. "A lot of us have that problem."

Robyn's embarrassment gave way to anger.

"It's not like that. Larry's a man's man, and his equipment is as big as any woman could want. It's But it's not enough. I need to feel full everywhere, all at once. I need to release with my whole body. The closest I've ever gotten was when I was sixteen, and that was from a really big enema. I've been trying to work up an orgasm from my clit for more than twelve years, and I just can't!"

Robyn hadn't imagined that it would be that hard to admit. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Helen motioned to the others to keep silent. She went to the dejected young woman and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"We'll try to help, dear. Nadine? Will your husband still be out of town on Saturday?"

***

As instructed, Robyn showed up at Nadine's door the following Saturday at five o'clock, her overnight bag in tow. She raised a hand to the doorbell, pulled it back as her trepidation surged, and all but jumped out of her shoes when the door opened spontaneously. Nadine stood there grinning, garbed in a silk caftan and nothing else.

"Come on in, girlfriend." Nadine gestured toward the helix of stairs that led to her large sublevel. "We're all ready for you." Robyn followed, restraining her anxiety as best she could.

As they mounted the stairs, Nadine said, "What did you tell Larry?"

Robyn flinched. "Just that you asked me to spend the night with you. I, I kinda gave him the impression that it was a sort of slumber party."

"Well, it is, sort of." Nadine's eyes twinkled. "But don't plan on getting to sleep too early."

The rest of the group, garbed as Nadine was, awaited them at the foot of the stairs, with Helen at their head. Robyn halted, uncertain. Helen smiled and spread her arms in welcome. Without thinking, Robyn mirrored the gesture and stepped forward. They embraced.

Helen's body fitted beautifully into her arms, warm and accommodating against her. Robyn fancied she could feel the older woman's vitality pulsing through her flesh. A warmly erotic cloud wrapped itself around her thoughts, and her hands slid of their own to caress Helen's buttocks.

"Did you shave your mound, dear?" Helen's whisper was every bit as warm as her usual contralto.

Robyn nodded, unready to speak.

"Good. I think you'll enjoy this." Helen released her and stepped back. Behind her, the group parted to reveal a curious contraption.

It looked like a large wooden cot frame, but without a mattress. It was crisscrossed by nylon webbing, like an outdoor chaise longue. The webbing strips were fairly widely spaced. It stood a bit higher than a conventional cot, as well. Bands of terrycloth dangled from the wood of the frame at several points. Beneath the cot, most incongruous, was a platform on four ball-jointed wheels. It looked like a mechanic's dolly, though much more thickly padded than the sort found in a garage.

Beyond the cot was a fold-out table laden with numerous items: a large cast-aluminum vessel sitting on a hot plate, two large enema bags, an array of penis-shaped vibrators, several plastic tubs, and a couple of devices Robyn couldn't identify.

Is all that for me?

The thought sent a shiver through her.

Well, I did tell them I was a tough case.

Helen draped an arm over her shoulders and urged her gently forward to stand beside the cot.

"Take off your clothes, dear."

Robyn hesitated, her uncertainty growing. Helen put her hands to Robyn's shoulders and turned the younger woman to look her full in the eyes.

"We won't hurt you, Robyn. We've never harmed anyone. I've spent most of the past week designing this...exercise. If it causes you the least bit of discomfort, I promise I'll halt it at once. Just undress and lie face down on the webbing."

"Will you...will you tell me what to expect?"

Helen smiled naughtily. "I will if you insist on knowing, but I think you'll enjoy it more if you just allow us to proceed. Are you willing?"

Robyn swiftly scanned the group. The faces of the others were serenely reassuring. Her eyes caught Nadine's. Her friend smiled and nodded.

She did as she'd been told.

She settled her nude body gingerly against the webbing. The nylon strips shifted to leave her face unobstructed, and to allow her breasts, belly, and feet to poke through. The position was unexpectedly comfortable; the support was more than adequate. She gave a sigh, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to relax.

Gentle hands pulled her arms and legs into a spread-eagle position. The terrycloth bands encircled her wrists and ankles, binding her comfortably into position. A black satin mask was slid down over her eyes. She accepted it all without resistance.

A rounded object brushed against her lips. She parted them and felt a penis-shaped plug of smooth vinyl slide into her mouth. It was sized just right to fill her mouth completely without triggering her gag reflex. She did her best to relax her jaws and not fight the intrusion.

A timeless spell passed as she adjusted to her bound, exposed state. Except for Nadine and Helen, the women gathered around her were strangers to her. Yet Nadine had vouched for them, and Nadine's judgment was first rate. Nor could Robyn bring herself to distrust Helen.

A pair of soft, warm hands began to stroke her breasts, hanging deliciously free between the web straps. Another pair of hands set to work on her legs, and a third on her buttocks. They felt powdered, gliding over her skin without effort, awakening all her surface nerves as if she were being laved with satin.

Robyn ceased to experience duration. Her consciousness seemed suspended in an everlasting now, a suspension in gentle pleasure and contentment she wished would never end.

When one set of lubricated fingers spread her labia while a second set teased her anus open, she quivered and gasped against the plug in her mouth. The hand on her mons stroked her clitoris gently, awakening it with infinite delicacy. Her anus pulsed in time to the probings at her bottom.

When the fingers were replaced by thick, warmed and lubricated nozzles, her orifices accepted them without discomfort. A moment later she felt a sluggish stream of some warm, heavy fluid, thicker and more viscous than water, being pumped into her, front and back. It accumulated slowly in her cavities, distending her belly by degrees. Hands below her firmly supported her growing mass.

A few minutes later, she heard two clicks, and the flows ceased. The nozzles were left in place. She was as full as she'd ever been. Her body was stretched to the limit of its capacity. The feeling was beyond any delight she'd ever known.

The caressing hands returned to her breasts, thighs, and buttocks. A pair of wet, warm lips captured her clitoris and nursed on it gently.

***

Robyn awoke in Nadine's guest room. Someone had clothed her in the sweat suit she'd brought and had laid a light blanket over her. She lay there unmoving in the dusklight for several minutes, allowing her metabolism to rise gradually. Her sense of well-being was beyond anything she'd ever known.

She pulled off the blanket and swung her legs out of bed. When her feet touched the floor a quick, transient current of pleasure, an erotic aftershock, traveled the length of her body. It almost forced her to lie down again. Presently she stood and padded across the house to find her host.

Nadine and Helen sat at Nadine's kitchen table, exchanging small talk. When Robyn entered, they turned to her in unison.

"How...how long was I asleep?"

Helen's eyes flicked to Nadine. Nadine rose, said, "I'll be in the rec room," and glided away. Robyn closed on Helen, took the chair Nadine had vacated, and looked silently into the older woman's eyes.

"It's Monday evening, dear."

Robyn gasped. "But --"

"Nadine called your husband and told him you'd eaten something that disagreed with you. She suggested that you stay here a day or two longer, and he concurred at once." Helen smiled. "Larry might have more of a taste for solitude than you realized."

Robyn gaped. Helen reached across the table and took Robyn's hands between her own.

"You had a giant charge of undispersed tension stored up, dear. It took the group quite a lot of effort to tease it out of you. When you climaxed, you convulsed so powerfully that you shattered that restraint frame we built for you. For a while we were afraid you might have hurt yourself. But it seems now that all is well."

"I...I came?"

Helen chuckled. "Oh my, yes. Did you ever! You shot two fat retention nozzles clear across the room and sprayed gel all over the walls. Don't you remember any of it?"

Robyn shook her head.

"Well, perhaps an experience like that wasn't meant to be remembered consciously. But your body will remember it. Your body knows how to reach orgasm now, and it will not forget."

"Are you saying that...that Larry will be able to do that to me?"

"Well, perhaps not that. He's not thirty women and a small fortune in apparatus, after all. But I think you'll find yourself responding to him, from now on."

Helen looked down at the table as she chafed Robyn's hands between her own.

"Orgasm is treated like some sort of mystery, for no good reason. It's about tension and release. To become sufficiently tense, you must first be able to relax. To release satisfactorily, you must reach an adequate degree of tension. Apparently, either you weren't able to relax properly for Larry, or he wasn't able to bring you to the necessary pitch of excitement to teach your body the orgasmic pattern of buildup and release. It will be easier for you now, though I don't doubt that a few more sessions like this one will assist you in cementing the patterns in place."

"Helen," Robyn whispered, "how can you do this?"

The older woman's eyes rose and locked with Robyn's. Suddenly Helen seemed much more than just a knowledgeable older woman who'd grown wise in the ways of love and sex from experience and exposure to the troubles of others. Her eyes glinted with a vast, Homeric mirth, a variety of detached amusement at the foibles and irrationalities of Man that a millennium's observation of the human carnival would scarcely be enough to explain.

"Don't ask, dear. I do it because it must be done. There's a great deal of misery in the world, even here in the most blessed land of all. A dollop of physical pleasure here and there, a little instruction in the ways of the body, a helping hand toward the fulfillment of this marriage or that affair, can sometimes avert the most terrible alternatives you could imagine." She patted Robyn's hands. "Someone must do it. For now, it falls to me."

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