A Study in Fragrance Pt. 18

"Stop, Cos...Stop!" No matter which part of her he touched, she reacted. When he massaged her clit she didn't want him to stop, but she knew it was only going to make her more frustrated. And when he rubbed her asshole, it helped make the pain go away, until it reminded her of how close to the edge she was. "Please! Pomegranate!"

He stopped immediately, turning her around to hug her to him, rubbing her back softly. "Like that, Em. Just like that."

She pulled out of his embrace and turned to sit on the chair, staring at him, perched on the edge knowing how sensitive her cheeks would be. The whole thing was overwhelming: both of them naked sitting in The Study, Complicit enveloping her, him playing on her shame and humiliation, her complicity in letting him. But it isn't complicity! I want it! I love it! And the cycle started again, feeling horny and needing to climax, his body lighting her up, the need to feel him inside her, the violence of what he'd just done, and her confusion about why she wanted to be treated that way. Her body was on fire, her core was lit up, her ruined orgasm tugging at her, her mind and emotions struggling with where he was pushing her. She sighed, struggling to break the cycle. "No, Cos. I'm not ready for another challenge. Not now. This has been too much."

He nodded. Time to let kitten lick her paws. "How are your friends?"

"What? Who?" She jerked her head to look at him directly.

"The priests, the others on Sunday. Are they...?" He didn't know the right name for it. Infected?

"Yeah," she sighed, not knowing where this was going. "They're falling like flies. The two who were over here today..." she shook her head. "I hope I didn't fuck them up. This is just too much." She waved her hands before burying her face in them, leaning over, elbows on legs.

Play it carefully. "I'm still on the clock, Em, if there's anything else you need done. I know I pushed you pretty hard just now, but you said it yourself, you didn't want me to stop or you'd've done it. When you call it, I listen. It's a sacred rule. Right?"

She looked up at him and nodded, her eyes glistening again. "Fuck, Cos. I know. It's just...I can't stand that I want to be treated that way...like..." she struggled to find the right words, "...a bunch of holes for you to fuck." But even as she said it, the idea struck a chord, her core lighting up. FUCKKK!! Why???? Her thoughts tumbling again into the black whole of worry. She looked across the room, her eyes staring at the hidden cabinet, remembering the stuck drawers. "Wait." Her worry whisked away by the memory. "There is something I need your help with. Do you have that lady slipper thing?" She breathed, relieved she had a task to distract herself.

He stared at her, nodding. "Down in the toolkit. What's up?"

Ten minutes later they were staring at the two drawers.

"This one," he had thrown on his jeans and shirt, and was on all fours pointing a flashlight into the opening of the upper of the two drawers, "looks like there's something stuck, just inside. You can feel it here." He jiggled the drawer, pointing the flashlight off to the right side. "Hold on." He pulled the drawer just above it out as far as it would go. Fiddling around at the back of it, he was able to work it loose, removing it from the cabinet. "There's your problem."

The lower drawer's contents were exposed: a set of dark brown bottles, most nestled in separate compartments, dozens of them, except for one near the front where Cos had been pointing. It had exploded, its top canted to one side, shards near it. Whatever had caused it to explode had broken two bottles near it. They had pushed up, taller than the frame of the drawer, blocking the drawer from opening. He carefully pulled the broken shards out and once they were removed, the drawer slid forward.

"Can we take it out and see what's in the bottom one?"

She helped him carefully remove it and place it on the floor, staring at the lowest drawer through the frame. It appeared empty, a dark stain traveling from near the front to the back, covering two thirds of the bottom. It looked wet.

"Complicit," she sighed, her eyes glinting, the aroma even more intense. "Holy holy fuck."

"What?" He looked at her, puzzled.

"You don't smell that?" She looked back, staring at the drawer they'd removed, realizing it must still be dripping, seeing him shake his head out of the corner of her eye. "Wait. Can you put that up on the table? I think there might be some stuff leaking from under it. You see?" She remembered one of the other drawers had empty bottles. Standing at the right hand set, she pulled out one then another, the bottles clinking dully when she pulled on the right one. She sorted through them, one by one, until she found a smallish one with a top. "Yeah? Is anything leaking?"

She walked over, bending down to look underneath, to see if there were any fresh drips, the throbbing from her asshole and pussy pricking at her. There was a smear, a dark spot that might have been wet. Looking back at the floor where they'd set it down, she couldn't see any moisture, but she wasn't sure she was at the right angle to tell. She put the bottle down, leaving Cos with the drawer and went back to look at the lower drawer, to see if it really was wet. The smell was stronger as she knelt down, she worried if breathing in so much would make things worse. Looking inside, she could see that Complicit had soaked into the wood. "I think it must have spilled into this one, and maybe it dried, glued it shut?"

He joined her, picking up the crow bar. "Let's see." After lightly tapping the face all around, he slipped one corner of the tool between the surfaces and tugged gently. Nothing budged. "I'm not sure," he said, looking inside. "It might have swollen shut." He set down the crow bar and felt the inside of the drawer. "It might be wet still." He brought his fingers to his nose. "You say it smells?" He sniffed again, shaking his head. "Maybe. But maybe it's just wood."

She nodded, almost jumping from excitement. "Fucking Complicit!" She hooted, smiling and hugging him. Her thoughts were all over the place, get a chemical analysis, how do you do that? He can't smell it! I found it! It was a mistake! She let him go and raced to her phone, texting everyone, snapping pictures. Returning to the table, she looked again to see if there were any fresh drips, noticing a dark bump swelling where the stain was darkest. The bottle she'd grabbed, small as it was, was way too big; she needed something like a thimble. Sitting on her haunches, staring up at the underside of the drawer she thought about what she had in the house that would work. Her pussy and asshole throbbed a little less, the feeling of being empty distracting her for a heartbeat. Focus!

"I got it." She jumped back up and raced to the bathroom to find an eyedropper. All she wanted was a sample, but if there was more...she didn't know what she would do with it, except to get it analyzed. Somehow. Gears clicked as she returned to the drawer. I can open the room without affecting Mom! Maybe there's a use for this! She stared down into the pigeon hole where the broken bottles were sitting, setting the dropper down and reaching in to carefully pull one of the bottles up by its broken edge. It was stuck to the wood. Working it gently, rocking it back and forth, she felt it loosen, pulling away as if it were stuck in chewing gum. Finally she wobbled it out of its slot and peered inside. The bottle looked dry, a crack clearly visible across its base. Looking in the slot, Emily saw a sticky mess at the joints, shiny, brown and like taffy. She couldn't tell if there was any liquid. Looking underneath again she saw the bump had gotten larger, or imagined it had. She returned to the other broken bottles, rocking them and eventually pulling them out, like the first, their insides dry. "Fuck!" Looking in their cubbies, she saw more of the sticky residue but nothing liquid. The smell was intense. She closed her eyes, letting Complicit swirl in her head.

"You have a knife?" If she couldn't get liquid, maybe the gunk would be just as good. Running back to the bathroom she found an eye shadow container, practically empty. Gotta keep it isolated. She ran the water in it until it was clean, washing it with soap, scraping her fingernail around inside until she thought it was pristine. She ran back. Cos was standing at the table looking at the drawer.

"What the fuck, Em?" He handed her the knife.

Carefully she scraped along the dividers, gently peeling the paste out of the hole, catching a few slivers along the way. After working all three, she dipped down underneath and scraped the drip into the tin. "Gotcha." She looked up at him, smiling proudly. "I think I solved my mystery." She raised her eyebrows, pressing her lips together. "Now if I could figure out what the hell is in it."

Setting the container down on the table she looked at the bottles, hoping their labels would give her a clue, but whatever had been written on them had faded, their Latin names barely visible. She took a picture anyway. Sitting carefully on the chair she breathed out, realizing for the first time in weeks how much of a strain it had been not knowing the answer to Complicit. Could this be all of it? She looked down at the pigeon holes, the aroma so intense, wondering how such a small amount could smell up the room. But mostly she felt relief. Whatever it was, she could control it. She could eliminate it out of her life. And with that thought, she looked up at Cos, wondering if by losing Complicit she was going to lose him.

He had been sitting on the table edge, pulling out bottles and looking to see what might be in them, jiggling a few in front of the light, staring at their labels. He looked over at her and saw her expression. "What the fuck is Complexix?"

She giggled, hiding her concern. "Complicit. Abby's fragrance. You know. It's what I've thought's been behind this whole thing." But she immediately regretted saying it that way.

He laughed at her attempt to backpedal. "I get it. The mystery fragrance. Abby's aroma. You think you found whatever it is that's been driving you." But he could tell she was serious and didn't want to start a fight. "Okay. Okay. Isn't it a little weird that I can't smell it?"

"Sex-related," she said quickly, smiling when he didn't get it. "As in X/Y, not fucking. Steph thought it might have to do with chromosomes. Like asparagus pee. Only sex-related."

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "It's okay. I think I get it." Waving his hands and smiling. "So, Complicit is at the bottom of all this mischief, hmmm? Damn." He looked at the back door wishing he had a beer. "And here I thought it was my animal magnetism."

She reached over and stroked his shoulders, smiling. "Complicit didn't do everything," she reassured him, and then thought about what she was saying, suddenly cautious. "Hah! I don't know Cos. I don't know. What we've been doing...it's way more than whatever this is..." she waved at the drawer.

They sat silently for a few moments, each reflecting on the past weeks.

"So But does that doesn't mean you we..." They both stopped and looked at each other.

Emily shook her head. "No, Cos. Finding this doesn't change anything. It doesn't mean I want us to stop." She unconsciously rubbed her backside, the throbbing from her pussy and asshole reminding her again, exactly what she'd committed to. What am I doing? "I...I've...you've got a lot to teach me still..." The thought of letting him control her orgasms, of letting him invade her backside with his cock, the image of being immobilized, her wrists and ankles bound; they all flooded her head, her body shivered. The tendril lifted at her inner struggle. She breathed, Complicit filling her lungs. You can just get rid of it. But what she was doing with Cos had gone way beyond Complicit. She could eliminate Complicit, and the knowledge that she had an escape route let her breathe easier, but that wouldn't eliminate her commitment...or how she was feeling. Cos had taken her somewhere else; he'd made a competition out of whatever they were doing. She needed to prove to him, to herself, that she would see this thing through.

"You want to see if I can get that drawer out?" He nodded over to the cabinet.

She scrunched her lips, leaving the table to study the bottom drawer. The fragrance was equally intense here. She knelt, touching the drawer bottom, Complicit flooding her nose. She sat back on the floor, her cheeks tender. She could feel her asshole clench, naked against the wood. She squirmed, rolling forward onto her knees knowing she was spread open for him. Stop it! Focus! "You think?" She picked up the crowbar and looked where to slip it in.

"Yeah. Hold on. Let me take a closer look."

She scooted out of the way and let him try again, sitting back against the wall, her knees up to her breasts, her anxiety almost absent, more horny than she could remember ever feeling. She heard a groan of wood and looked over at what he was doing, Complicit swirling around her, invisible. But it feels orange! Thinking about how Caroline described it, how Steph described it. Another squeak of wood and a small shout from Cos.

"I got it! Whoa. Take a look at that!"

She scrambled over behind him and almost cried: the floor beneath the drawer was covered in a dark liquid, the smell so intense she had to breath in carefully. "Holy. Fucking. Shit!" Her eyes darted to the drawer. "Hey, can you turn that upside down? And bring it to the table?" She jumped up and grabbed the eyedropper and bottle, returning to the spill, but after several attempts she could see that approach wasn't going to work. She sensed Cos had left but stayed focused on sucking up whatever she could of the thin film.

"Here, try this."

She turned to see him offering her a metal scraper, noticing several other tools poking out of his pockets. "Wait." She looked up at him, "can you try that? I think I have an idea."

He watched her racing out of the room, his eyes latching onto her pinkened cheeks. "Hey! I could use a beer!"

She was back in a flash, a beer in one hand and several kitchen utensils in the other. "Any luck?"

He held up the bottle, nodding, but she couldn't see through the brown glass. "I got some..."

"Let me see if these will work." She knelt in front of the space again, studying the spill. Starting from the outside of the puddle, she pressed a rubber spatula against the floor, working her way toward the center, pleased at seeing the orange-brown liquid sliding onto it. "Gotcha you beautiful little thing." Reaching behind her, she felt for the bottle, carefully dripping Complicit into its opening. Again and again, she scraped the perfume until there was no point in going on. The bottle was a third full, her heart leaping at the realization she'd really gotten it! She turned to see Cos standing over the drawer at the table. "Is there anything worth scraping off of that?" Easing onto her feet she joined him, the bottle and spatula ready to grab more.

"A little, I suppose." He watched her, her face lit up, his eyes tracing down her body. He was stiffening. So fucking hot. Soon, little mountain lion. Soon you'll be begging me.

She studied the dark stain on the underside of the drawer, but couldn't figure out how to collect any of the moisture. "Any ideas?" She set down the bottle and spatula. "Would it help to turn it back right-side up?"

He didn't have anything to suggest, but she was worried about just leaving it, concerned about Complicit remaining open in the room. Her attention returned to the stain on the floor, remembering the visqueen. "Hey," she concluded, "garbage bags. Do you think we can get this back in the slot wrapped in plastic?" She suggested cutting up a bag to tape over the stain, and bagging the drawer, replacing it in its slot.

"I doubt it," Cos said, looking at the drawer. "It's pretty swelled up as it is. And the plastic would probably tear. But, yeah, we could tape over the spill." He paused. "Why not just put it in plastic and stick it in the cabinet, loose?" He pointed vaguely to the counter. "It would probably just stand up there, or on its side."

She nodded. "Okay. Can you help me with the floor?" She ran back to the kitchen and grabbed a box of bags, inhaling the fresh air on her way, her mind racing faster than her feet.

"That should be okay...uhhh..." Cos stood up, the floor taped, turning to watch her studying the bottle.

"Hunh?" She was breathing hard, immersed in the fragrance, thinking about the BLN, euphoric at having found the source of the perfume.

"Well, it's just...I'm not sure how long you want it to stay that way. The duct tape will hold for a while, but in a few months it'll probably lift up...?"

She had put a bag around the bottom drawer and placed it on the counter, off to the left. It looked precarious. Would it dry on its own? Would it still be as powerful? Would it be better to let it air out? She couldn't deal with it right now. She could always take the tape off later. "K. Yeah...Let's try putting this back with a bag around it," staring down at the bottles in their cubbies.

He looked skeptical, holding the drawer while she slipped the bag around it.

She giggled. "It's like a condom..." gathering it and tying the opening into a knot, smiling at his reaction.

Carefully aligning it in the slot, he slowly pushed it in, the metal guides pinching the plastic, tearing it. "It's not going to work, Em." He stopped, about to pull it back out.

"No! It's okay. Can you slip it in anyways?" She clenched briefly, waiting for a smart-ass come-back. Better to have it covered a little. Maybe it will keep it contained.

He didn't take the bait and continued pushing, jiggling the drawer to get the guides past where the bag was torn and bunching. Reaching through from above, he was able to seat it, the bag mostly covering the top of the drawer, its sides ruined. After latching the guides he pushed it all the way in, seating the front flush with the face. "Okay. It's in. But I'm not sure what good it will do." He lifted the third drawer and slid it back in. "I'm going to grab some tools. I'll be right back."

Emily looked at the drawers, the empty slot at the bottom like a missing tooth, glancing at the black plastic mass sitting on the counter. It all looked...wrong...Abby's careful organization and tidiness ruined by her makeshift attempt at containing the fragrance. How long would it last? Her phone buzzed, pulling her attention back.

Texts. Thumbs up from Caroline, and responses from Steph and oddly, Sarah.

She had to talk to someone.

"Hey! Can you talk?"

"Sure. For a minute. That's pretty amazing, Em. That's really amazing actually."

She could hear relief in Steph's voice. "I know. I didn't realize how stressed I was. But now..." the disappointment crept into her voice.

"I hear you. Sort of. Mostly not. What's up?"

"So...yeah...I got samples of it. I'm wondering...anybody you can think of who could do a chemical analysis of it?"

Steph laughed. "I don't know who you think I am!" She laughed again. "Uhhh...hmmm...I guess I could ask my doctor...or you could ask yours. Dr. Carlson?"

The chemistry teacher at school. "I don't think so...but maybe he would know someone. You know how to reach him?" Emily had wanted nothing to do with Chemistry, although all of her friends thought Dr. Carlson had made it a lot easier.

Steph sighed. "Yah. I can find him. I'm not even sure what to ask him, though. Any ideas?"