Double Helix Ch. 10

Nissi laughed. "You're doing it to me, of course. We could try switching roles if you really want to." She came close and pressed her body against me. "But I was hoping you might like to have me bent over . . ." Here, she put her mouth close to my cheek, "tied down . . ." She breathed huskily into my ear, "ass in the air . . ." she gave my earlobe a nibble, "while you spank me."

Though I was on fire, a chill went through me at her words. I gave an involuntary groan of desire and barely controlled the urge to push her down on the bed and have her right then. "That sounds pretty good, actually," I said with a groan of lust.

She smiled. "I'd hoped you'd like the idea. Give me a 'sec."

She knelt at the edge of the bed and pulled out a bundle of rope. "I found this in the workshop next to the house," she said. Her tone had gone breathy and simpering. "It's all washed and ready for you, Sir."

I took the rope from her and worried it between my fingers, stalling while I worked out the rules of this new game. "Kneel," I said. She immediately got to her knees on the floor in front of me. I walked slowly around her and she turned her head from side to side to watch me, a faint smile on her lips. I completed one circuit and ended up behind her. "Put your hands behind your back," I commanded.

She did as I said and I squatted to loop the rope around her wrists, careful not to get it too tight. It was soft rope, sturdy but not coarse. I made a leash from the end of it, already thinking of how I would use it. Satisfied with the results, I circled back around to the front of her, standing inches from her face. "Suck my cock, slave."

She attacked my slightly flagging erection, obviously excited by this new play. Well, new for me. She sucked me more vigorously than she ever had before, bobbing her head clear down the length of my shaft and then gasping for air before returning again. "Good," I said, moaning softly. "Good girl."

I let her suck me for a time, loving the charge of sexual energy that she got from being dominated. When I stepped back, she made a disappointed noise in her throat.

"Sorry, you were going to make me come," I said.

"Time out for a sec'," Nissi said, the simpering note gone from her voice. "Let me help you out a bit. You need to be in control at all times. I'm not to express my own desires unless you ask me to. And if I step out of line, I should be punished. Don't worry, though, you're doing great." She closed her mouth and sat waiting, looking up at me with a worshipful gaze.

I got back into character immediately. "What was that?" I said, and grabbed a handful of her hair. "Are you unhappy, slave?"

"No," she said softly. "I just want to please you, Sir."

I snatched up the leash that trailed from her hands. "Get up," I said with a tug. She rose to her feet, only a little awkwardly despite having both hands bound behind her back. "Get up on the bed and bend over. I want your ass in the air."

Having her hands tied should have made it awkward, but she moved quickly and efficiently to do as I had asked. When she was in place, I paused for a moment to admire the sight of her pale bottom, petite but rounded in just the right ways. "You've been a bad girl," I said. Then I brought the flat of my hand down hard across her ass.

Nissi flinched and grunted as the blow landed. I gave her another, nearly as hard, and closer to her inner thigh, and this time I got a sharp intake of breath and a moue of pleasure from her. I began to get an idea of where to strike to give pleasure along with the sting, and where to avoid altogether. I ramped up the intensity of my strikes until her ass began to turn pink. Nissi had her face buried in her pillow, moaning and shaking with pleasure and pain each time my hand made contact.

I stopped and brushed my hand across the curve of her ass, tinged pink where I had spanked her. She hummed at the contact. I swept my hand lower, dipping between her legs to find her pussy dripping and swollen with arousal. "You need to be fucked, don't you slave?" I said, and gave her a hard slap on the rump.

She gasped and actually squirmed. "Yes, Sir. Please fuck me. Please fuck me, sir. Your slave needs her wet little pussy filled."

Flushed and a little shaky now with my own arousal, I climbed onto the bed behind her on my knees. She was still begging me to fuck her in every colorful way that she could think of. I got into position and buried my cock inside her in one smooth motion, slamming hard into her still rosy bottom.

"Oh my God!" she screamed. She panted for air as I slowly withdrew and gave a wordless cry as I drove back into her. Her cries were growing in pitch and intensity as I settled into a rhythm, and it had probably been less than a minute since I had first entered her. "I'm about to come, Sir," she said suddenly, her words oozing subservience.

My first impulse was to keep fucking her and bring her to what would surely be an amazing climax, but I was enjoying this new play space we had entered, and wanted to push things a little further. "No," I said, "not until I tell you that you can." I withdrew my cock and she made that same noise of disappointment as before. I gave her ass a particularly hard slap and she yelped. "You will learn to control your outbursts, slave."

"Yes, Sir," she said. "I'm sorry, Sir." I loosened the knots on her wrists and freed one of them. "Lie on your back," I said.

She did as I commanded, placing her hands across her stomach. My dick still stood erect, as big and hard as it had ever been. She lay, passively alert, as I retied her wrist and lifted both hands over her head. I looped the leash of the rope through the slats of the headboard and tied it tightly, securing her to the bed.

"Now, slave," I said, walking slowly around the bed to inspect my work, all the while admiring the naked beauty lying there. "We're going to try a little exercise to teach you self-discipline. I'm going to lick your pussy. You're going to lie there and enjoy it, but you are to tell me the moment that you start getting close to coming. Do you understand?"

She nodded, "Yes, Sir."

I knelt between her legs and began to lap at the lips of her pussy. She responded with eager moans and tried to push herself up into my face, but I slapped her inner thigh and she instantly settled down. I love going down on a woman, and Nissi's pussy, naturally free of hair and with a flavor both sweet and musky, just begged to be licked. It didn't seem to take long, maybe a minute or two, before she said, "I'm going to come, Sir."

I immediately backed off from her clit. She didn't any make a sound of protest this time, and I felt her body go rigid with the effort not to buck her hips upward. "Good girl," I purred. I added a finger, then two, and slowly fucked her as I licked the spot just beneath her clit and sucked and nibbled at her lips.

"Oh, fuck," she cried, head thrown back in ecstasy, then added a belated, "Sir."

"Do you like that, slave?" I teased.

"It feels so fucking good, Sir. Thank you, Sir." My cock surged back to rock-hardness at her words. "Are you close to coming, slave?"

"Uh," she said, and bit her lip. "Yes, sir." It was almost a whisper.

I stopped what I was doing and summoned up as menacing a voice as I could manage. "And were you going to tell me?"

She answered, still in that small voice. "I need to come, Sir. I can't stand it."

I slapped her on the ass so hard that my hand stung from the impact. She flinched away from bloe, crying out, and I thought I heard in it a note of shock, but she didn't tell me to stop. I gave her a few more hard strikes, and though I could tell she was loving it, another idea had occurred to me. I stooped to pull the belt from my pants and heard her sharp intake of breath as the buckle rattled. Folding it once to form a loop, I brought it down across her rump with a sharp crack.

"Ah!" she cried, and I hesitated, worried that I had gone too far. She panted for breath, her limbs shaking for a moment. She had flinched away from the blow, moving up and to one side, but now she deliberately resumed her position. She wanted this. I did it again, and the air exploded from her lungs and returned in a gasp. A deep red welt had appeared from the first strike. I gave her four more in quick succession before I stopped. I was panting from the exertion, and she was so aroused that moisture was rolling down her thighs and dripping on the bed. My cock had responded to my fear and arousal, and was now standing up stock straight again.

Nissi alternately tensed and relaxed, no doubt trying to anticipate the next strike. Instead, I ran the palm of my hand over her skin. It was hot to the touch, and she stiffened and whimpered as I trailed my fingers over it. Her ass and the backs of her thighs were striped red and white.

"That was pretty intense, huh?" I said, and she didn't answer, bringing my concern back to the fore. I took her by the hips and gingerly rolled her onto her side so that I could assess her. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused and she mouthed words silently. "Nissi?" I said. When she didn't answer, I repeated it again, more loudly. Finally I pitched my voice lower and said, "Amanda." That finally got her attention. She blinked and looked around. When her gaze met mine, I asked. "Are you alright?"

She swallowed and moved her mouth as though trying to form words. Frowning slightly, she just nodded and closed her eyes. I reached behind her back to untie her and she stretched out on the bed, still lying on her side. I lay down next to her and put one arm across her, bringing the other up to stroke her fine red hair. We just lay like that for some time, and I told her over and over again how much I loved and cared about her. Her eyes stayed closed and she breathed soft and evenly.

I rolled onto my back and sighed. "Why'd you stop?" Nissi said dreamily.

"I thought you went to sleep."

"I liked that too much," she said. "I love when you touch me." She gave a snort of disgust then. "Ew, I drooled on the bed."

I laughed. "What? Really?"

"Yeah, ick." She sat up and wiped her mouth and chin. "And I got it all over my pillow."

"Damn, I've never made a girl drool before. What happened to you?"

"I don't know. I just . . . I stopped feeling the pain and I was just drifting inside myself. Kind of the feeling you get when you orgasm, but stretched out, deeper, more emotional." She flipped her pillow over and flopped back down. "I'm going to need to get some rest after that."

"Really? You didn't come at all and you're done? That's a first."

"I need a nap," she said, patting my arm. "I'll wake you when I need to fuck again."

True to her word, Nissi did wake me in the middle of the night. She must have waited for one of my spontaneous nighttime erections to occur, because when I came awake, she was already straddling me, riding my cock. She fucked me until she came, and then lay down across my body, my cock still nestled inside her, and rode me slowly until I had my own climax.

I woke to find myself alone in bed. I got up and went downstairs to find Nissi and Tilly making breakfast and chatting amiably. On the stove was a huge put of oatmeal bubbling away, and a smaller pot with canned peaches that had steam lazily rising from it. We had been eating oatmeal for breakfast almost every day. Sasha had stockpiled bags and bags of it because it was healthy, nutrient-rich, and fairly compact. The peaches came from the new stores that Dan had brought with him the previous day.

"Morning, stud," Nissi said, and gave me a kiss. "I was just bragging how you rocked my world last night."

I forced a chuckle and stole a glance at Tilly. She had her back turned and was stirring the pot of peaches slowly. Nissi might just be pulling my leg. On the other hand, it wasn't like Tilly, who was just across the hall, couldn't hear everything that went on in our bedroom most nights. "Those peaches smell delicious," I said.

"They're pickled and spiced. Here, let me get you some." Nissi scooped a large helping of the oatmeal into a bowl and Tilly spooned several peaches and some of the syrup on top.

"That's too much," I protested, when she handed me the bowl.

"You need to keep your energy up today," she said. "You're going to bring more food back for us, so I want you in top shape. And if you lose any more weight, I might not find you as attractive. You're already close to skin and bones."

It wasn't much of an exaggeration. Before the Ban and food rationing that set a daily quota of 1600 calories per person per day, subject to certain exemptions, I had actually been a little pudgy. I had slimmed down from about 205 to a trim 150 and stayed there for a long time. Since the problems with food supplies had started, and then we had gone on the run, I was closer to about 135. I estimated that, lately, we'd been living on about 1000-1200 calories each. That was getting down near starvation territory for all but the smallest and lightest of us.

"Well, give Wendy and Nonna a little extra too, okay?" Second-gen and onward genemods had metabolic enhancements like bio-engineered mitochondria that allowed them to adapt efficiently to changes in diet and caloric intake. Over the last two weeks, Nissi often complained of feeling fatigued through the middle part of the day, and she and the others had been taking a lot of naps, their bodies' efforts to conserve energy. Even Nock would lie quietly for several hours each day, doing some kind of meditation exercises, not quite sleeping, but something similar. Wendy and Nonna didn't have that luxury. Though Wendy was smaller than an adult and thus needed a bit less calories, I worried about her.

Nock wandered in as Nissi and Tilly were getting their food, and the four of sat at the dining room table. Tilly engaged Nock in conversation, and soon the two of them were talking about stock trading. There seemed to be no subject in which she didn't possess some depth of knowledge. No doubt she had undergone the same kind of accelerated learning that my sister had received.

Nissi asked me about the route that I was planning to take, and let me know that she had gotten up early and made meals for me and Tilly to take with us. I finished my food, excused myself and stood to take my bowl to the sink. I found four foil-wrapped items in a plastic bag in the refrigerator and a milk jug filled with well-water, all with my name and Tilly's written in Nissi's looping script. When I returned, Tilly was just finishing her oatmeal. "Ready to go?" I asked, fighting the urge to argue one last time against it.

She glanced at the items I carried. "Yes, you have your phone?"

"Right here," I said. I also had my driver's license with my fake identity, Mark Winston, and $2000 of our remaining cash. I had fiercely debated with myself about taking less money, in case our new contact tried to rob us, but equally bad would be to bring too little money and miss out on bringing back more food. I did not want to make this trip any more often than I had to. And I might have to make another bribe.

Nissi leapt up and ran around the table to enfold me in a crushing hug. "Just be careful, okay, Norm?"

"We'll be fine," I said, "really."

She stepped back and nodded. "I know you will, but I'm still going to worry."

"Here, I'll get that," Tilly said, and took the gallon jug from me. Her tone was light. "Might as well get a move on."

I followed her out to the truck and we climbed into opposite sides of the cab. I started the engine and put the big truck into drive, both nervous and excited about the journey ahead. I pulled out onto the farm road and from there, to the highway, heading into Corvallis. I glanced over at Tilly but was surprised to find her curled up against the door, already drifting off to sleep. Apparently she was letting her body rest now, conserving her energy for when she might need it.

I stopped in town to fuel up before heading west to take the coast highway north. It took us two hours out of our way, doubling the distance, and I had no way of knowing if the 101 or one of the connecting highways might contain a checkpoint, but it was almost a sure bet that the larger, more direct highways, I-5 and the 99, would have at least one checkpoint along their length.

Tilly slept for the first hour, but when we reached the coast, she woke and stared across at the wide expanse of deep blue under a canopy of gray clouds, with the sun sending shafts of light down to touch the waves. "It's beautiful," she whispered.

I looked at her and nodded. She watched the water for a while longer before going back to sleep once more. I turned inland at the junction with highway 18, encouraged that our trip was more than half over and we hadn't seen a checkpoint. We passed through several small towns, the signs pointing us onward to Portland. My nervousness increased when we merged onto highway 99 and the towns started to get bigger.

At one point between towns, we came to a place cleared of trees where bare earth stretched away for miles like a great brown scar on the land. A sign next to the road proclaimed "Newberg Farming Project" near where an asphalt road branched off from the highway and fed into a large building flanked by industrial grain silos. Beyond that, a sea of metal and glass could be seen in the form of close-packed, boxy structures. Twenty feet all, a hundred yards wide and about a mile long, they were, in effect, large greenhouses, sealed against the outside environment.

Much of the corn and soy to supply the western United States was now grown at facilities like this. The Department of Agriculture built more of them as fast as they could manage, but they were horribly expensive and prone to failure. The sowing, irrigation and harvesting was all done by machines, but the large size of these facilities made them vulnerable to Rot infection. All it took was a single live spore to get inside and infect a plant. Rot took weeks to finally kill, but by that time, it would have begun pumping spores out into the air and soil daily. There were about a dozen of the greenhouses in total, but four of those were currently standing empty, no doubt undergoing intensive sterilization of the soil and every square inch of the inner surface. The only fungicides that could kill Rot tended to be powerful herbicides as well.

We left the farming project behind and the trip continued without incident, and we had soon reached the outskirts of Portland. Tilly must have sensed a change, because she woke and yawned, looking around with interest at the houses and businesses we passed. I got off the highway and took service streets in the rest of the way. The warehouse turned out to be down by the waterfront. The Portland skyline loomed to the west, window glass glittering in the late morning sun. To the east, cargo containers were stacked in long rows and a crane moved more from a cargo ship. Trucks were everywhere, entering and leaving the shipping yard or crawling slowly along the road.

The GPS directed me past all of that activity and onward for close to a mile. The warehouses and docks here were all abandoned. Trade everywhere had slowed considerably once the world had realized what the Rot was. Shipping worldwide was maybe a tenth of what it had once been, and much of that was food imports from the Far East to the West. Ships going out from ports like this one, to China and Southeast Asia, had to head far out to sea and scrub every inch of their surfaces, inside and out, with fungicides before they were allowed close to the mainland.

At the GPS's bidding, I turned into a wide expanse of parking lot across the road from the river. Weeds burst through every crack and crevice in the asphalt. I drove in and circled the building, a long, low expanse of sheet metal that was visibly rusting in places. A chain link fence bordered it on three sides, leaving only enough clearance for two cars to get by on either side of the building. The businesses behind it had erected solid fencing to hide the sight of the blight. I located the door that our contact had indicated, the entrance large enough to admit a forklift. It was closed but didn't look locked.