The Curator Ch. 18

Sue's eyes widened as she watched her clamped, protruding nipples barely clear the door frame as she was rolled sideways out onto the exhibition floor of the annex, each little bump jingling the bells in accompaniment. Outside the boiler room, the air was so much colder that Sue felt like she was being rolled into a refrigerator like a rack of meat. She tried to complain, but only the "c" in "cold" and "k" in "fuck" came out clearly.

Cindy started to hum "Jingle Bells" while they rolled Sue across the floor.

Maya laughed. "Stop it! You're so bad."

Sue, begrudgingly, found it amusing too, but nowhere near as funny as Maya and Cindy. AC/DC, "Hell's Bells," would be more like it. She would have tried to hum it, but couldn't really remember the melody.

As they wheeled her closer, Sue could see the ancient metal parts of the Viking chastity belt laid out on the table along with the ridiculous, industrial padlock. Maya pressed the foot pedal to lower the rack and lock it in place.

"I can't believe women were forced to wear shit like this," said Cindy. She fingered the vaginal shield on the table, fascinated, as if petting a snake, uncertain if it might strike.

"Back then, it was, most likely, a voluntary thing to prove loyalty," said Maya. "Chastity belts in ancient times were more myth than fact."

"This one looks like the real deal, though. Thick, solid, freakin' steel. But I still don't get how the belt works," questioned Cindy. "I mean, I understand how the belt would hold this metal dildo in place and keep her locked up, but I don't get how it's supposed to protect the guys."

"Phallus, not dildo or cock. What kind of scholar are you?" taunted Maya.

Cindy stuck her tongue out at Maya. "Phallus schmallus. It's still just a metal dildo if you ask me."

"Try saying 'dildo' on the next school tour of the Nuymean exhibit."

"OK, I get it, but you still didn't answer my question."

"I don't know why it works, but the lack of sexual access blocks the effects of alignment caused by the lusterite phallus."

"Oh, yes, that whole thing-if you say so. I still don't get what it's about. How much longer is it supposed to take? The alignment thing?"

"It took me a few more days than this. Alignment is hard to explain, but a potential priestess will have a kind of sexual awakening that's very powerful. She attracts the sexual power of the Nuymean gods. Her body and that energy have to find a balance. Until then, all that energy can do some pretty strange things."

Sue didn't need a few more days, no matter what Maya thought. Without a doubt, she knew she was aligned, or whatever-they can make up whatever name they want for it. Something had definitely happened, and her body was far from normal, but it didn't feel out of control anymore. That confusing, raging, and wildly hormonal feeling was hardly noticeable now. Exhaustion aside, she felt better than ever. She felt charged with sexual energy from head to toe, yet it was more than that: her thoughts had a lucid, rapid quality; pain felt different-the pain of the evil nipple clips was starting to feel more stimulating than painful; even the relentless embrace of the leather corset was starting to seem comforting-perhaps reassuring is a better word. She knew that she had progressed way ahead of Maya's presumptions of alignment and its effects, and well past the point where the chastity belt was necessary, if it ever had been. She questioned, more and more, just how much Maya and the others really understood about Nuymean training and what she was going through. It seemed more superstition than anything else.

Sue's emotions were jumbled, so much had happened, but she could feel her mind coming together now too-call it alignment if you want. She knew psychologists disagreed on how many basic emotions people feel, ranging from merely four to over seventeen. Synchronistic with Nuymean numerology and the sacred nine, she had her own definition of nine basic emotions swirling in her head: fear, anger, happiness, contentment, relief, shame, pride, surprise and, the queen of them all, lust. She embraced each one, facets of herself and reactions to circumstances that were easy to accept. Acceptance was they key. How could they possibly understand? It was time for her to control. They could argue their theology later.

Sue's favorite Nuymean phallus was still on the table sitting in a puddle of fluids, like a used bar of soap sloppily set aside after washing. Seeing it made Sue realize that Maya was unaware of the zombie-making Nuymean Bokor and the vodou spell cast by lusterite, lust and cunt. It gave her an idea. But will it work? The key has to be inhibitions and what people really want to do-I better be right about Cindy.

Sue winced at the touch of cold steel as Maya lined up the waist portion of the belt, then, once satisfied, reached for the phallus. Sue held her breath apprehensively. Her plan would require precise timing despite the unavoidable sensory distractions-including an energy infused lust so volatile that it was already rising. As Maya pushed the phallus home, Sue saw the change. Just as she thought, the phallus inside her was the catalyst: Maya's eyes lost their spark and diffused to glassy zombie eyes. The Bokor had cast his spell; now, could she cast hers?

The thrill of being penetrated almost broke Sue's concentration, and she nearly came, but her adventitious training kicked in; she was able to manage her reactions and shelve the intense desire and burning lust she felt, yet as the shaft of cold metal warmed inside her, she knew that the strength of her willpower and ability to concentrate would not last long.

Maya held the phallus in place with her upturned palm as she reached for the other half of the Viking belt one-handed. Sue knew that looking at Cindy might break her concentration, so she kept her focus entirely on Maya.

Maya suddenly forgot the belt and started to move closer for a kiss; the desire to do so rapidly becoming an all-consuming need. Message received. As she acted on her telepathically encouraged desires, Maya's hands strayed from their original duties. With a metallic clatter, the waistband popped open and the belt fell to the floor. Sue attempted to tighten her vaginal muscles to hold the phallus in, but it was far too heavy. Even as it fell, the uncanny gaze in Maya's eyes shifted, and Zombie Maya was gone, the spell broken.

When the phallus bounced off the hard tile floor, leaving a chip in the marble, it rang out like a tuning fork, just for a second, yet the clear note was unmistakable. Why would it be tuned like that? Sue knew it had to be important, another of those small details she would not ignore. Tuned metal vibrates at specific frequencies...could it be?

"Doesn't the rack lay back flatter?" suggested Cindy. "It would make things easier."

Maya nodded and started pumping a lever on the side of the rack. With each pump, Sue tilted further backwards until she reached the 32 degree limitation of the rack. The new angle was neither upright enough nor flat enough to be comfortable. It made her feel off balance and all the more helpless.

Cindy picked up the fallen items and handed Maya the phallus. "That thing could break a toe."

Maya automatically looked around for something to clean it with, then eventually wiped it with the corner of her shirt after finding nothing else suitable. "I wonder if the five second rule applies?"

Sue grit her teeth as Maya proceeded with the detestably dry phallus. Working it in and out, a little more each time, Maya made sure it was slick with Sue's natural lubrication before firmly pushing it all the way in. Regardless, Sue didn't appreciate the difference in coefficient of friction and wished for lube, but quickly suppressed the thought. The last thing she needed was for Maya to leave to go find some.

This time, a new approach was in order. She concentrated on her redildoed pussy (which was rather easy) and how much she wished someone would caress it, kiss it, treasure it. Sue never saw Maya's face or the zombie eyes return, but she did feel a greedy lesbian zombie tongue, right where a lesbian tongue is best, challenging her ability to concentrate. At the same time, Maya's fingertips never left the phallus.

With a deep breath and renewed willpower, Sue resisted Maya's skillful ministrations and lifted her head to see a puzzled Cindy holding the chastity belt. Maya's spontaneity seemed a little much for her. Perhaps Maya's expecting a threesome? Cindy opened her mouth as if to speak, but couldn't seem to find words.

Sue stuck to her plan: she concentrated on the chastity belt and tried to convey the thrill of being locked inside it-the strange frustration-induced lust from being unable to touch one's own intimate flesh; the raw emotion of waking up to discover a barrier of hammered Viking steel denying probing fingers.

Cindy was frozen in place, staring at the belt, perhaps intrigued, perhaps conflicted, perhaps considering. Sue wondered, rhetorically, if the chastity belt fit Cindy. Or is she too fat? Did she even know how to work it?

Cindy had been wondering too until her vanity demanded action, of course I'm not too fat!

The logical way to prove it is to try on the belt-isn't it? Sue fought down a feeling of renewed frustration, spiked with a double shot of envy, as Cindy kicked off her shoes (must be nice). She watched her closely, trying to anticipate each thought. Though her eyes remained unchanged, Cindy was clearly acting in response to Sue's telepathic communications. Holy hell, Maya is working the phallus with her fingers!

Cindy modestly turned to the side before removing her black tights and short skirt-trendy, but not-so-practical in winter. Lifting the belt, she marveled at the weight of the overly thick steel, then, without further hesitation, started piecing the belt into place. Is it supposed to be this tight? After sucking in her stomach a bit more, Cindy was able to close the waistband.

Anticipating Cindy's reaction, Sue continued, It should be very tight. It's a chastity belt after all. Yes, trying that other phallus would be a good idea (wherever it came from).

Cindy hesitated after picking up the extra phallus. Sue had no idea exactly what gave Cindy pause, so she tried to project horny thoughts. Perhaps raw lust could be transmitted across the telepathic connection. Whatever the reason, Cindy continued, after a further bit of apparent deliberation. All Sue could see was Cindy's naked bottom as she wiggled back and forth on her tiptoes, her legs spread slightly, to insert the cold metal. Sue wasn't sure if the resulting gasps were a reaction to the cold or the heat between Cindy's legs.

Cindy held the phallus in place as she lifted the front shield. She couldn't believe she was doing this, but it all seemed like a good idea. She wanted to show that Miss Smarty PhD hadn't done anything all that spectacular, and she wanted to show off how she could wear the belt without a corset to hold in her waist, but, most of all, the very idea of being locked up was making her horny as hell.

Sue continued to project her thoughts, however weak or strong of an influence they were. It's bound to be a little uncomfortable at first, don't you think? Locked? Of course. It isn't real if it isn't locked. It doesn't feel the same if you know you can get out. Yeah, the lock is big, but it fits doesn't it? CLICK. See?

Cindy started pawing at herself, feeling along the edges of the metal, pulling at the waistband, trying to get her fingers underneath the shield. Sue knew that feeling and that it would shortly lead to panic followed by an attempt to get the key-which Sue reasoned was in Maya's pocket since didn't see any key-shaped blurs on the table. Oh, that feels amazing. Sue's bells were ringing constantly as Maya steadily increased the pressure of her tongue.

"Oh my, it looks a little too tight. Maybe you should try walking? You might settle into it. Besides, walking is the real challenge anyways. On top of the penetration, the phallus shifts and moves from the weight, but I bet you still won't be able to cum. It's a bitch," said Sue, her voice returned, in an attempt to dare Cindy's vanity, play to her sense of competition and challenge her pride in her own sexual prowess.

"I don't think it's that tight." Cindy turned to look at Sue with bedroom eyes, no zombie gaze evident. With a careful, yet awkward, attempt at dignity, she managed to pick up her heels on the third attempt to bend down. Wearing just her blouse, high-heels and the chastity belt, she started to walk gingerly towards the far side of the room, past the sex maiden and on towards the Nazi vibrator table. About eighteen steps away, she stopped and swiveled her hips around to make some kind of internal adjustment before continuing. Soon Sue lost sight of her, presumably as she ducked behind one of the displays to cast all dignity aside.

Maya's oral skills were undeniably good, generating a build up of sexual tension just beyond the edge of Sue's mental focus that was getting steadily harder to ignore. At the same time, the strange sexual energy had banished all feelings of fatigue. An orgasm was building. She could sense it there like a predacious feline, stalking ever closer, ready to pounce. After a particularly well-executed series of tickling tongue tip touches, her concentration slipped; Maya's little tongue rabbit twitched just right, and the predator pounced. It was all over-her whole body was caught in the mighty jaws of the orgasmic beast, primitive and wild, and racked with shuddering spasms, dozens of aching, delicious, little deaths.

After it ended, Sue immediately realized her mistake. Now Zombie Maya, resuming after a pause, was already determinedly working on orgasm two of nine. Cindy would soon return to discover the source of Maya's blackouts and would be unlikely to fall for her simple manipulations again. She didn't want to risk losing Cindy's trust with lies, assuming she could even invent some. Trust in the gods. Yes, same answer, just a different question.

Somewhere around orgasm three or four, Cindy did return, sweaty and frustrated looking; her surprise at seeing Maya still pleasuring Sue barely masked with a quick smile. As she scanned the table, presumably looking for the padlock key, she was smiling and almost laughing. "You're right, Sue. This thing is horrible. I wouldn't have believed it was so bad."

"I bet you'd give about anything to cum?"

"Oh, I see where this is going," Cindy laughed. "I guess I have it coming."

"You certainly do, but before I decide what price you will pay," Sue teased. "I have one question."

"OK, what?"

"Did you really need to fuck my landlord?"