Gas Again

"This stuff will affect anybody who has a sex drive," Mr Tilley explained. "The greater the sex drive, the quicker and more long lasting the effects will be, but everybody succumbs.

"You'd be amazed at the results. I've discovered that nuns are sometimes as likely to succumb as prostitutes and strippers – I've got some case notes that would make your head spin." Mr Tilley glanced at David R. "Heh. Been there, done that."

He crossed over to David R., removed his gasmask. "Here," he said. In his hand was a vial of some sort of liquid, which he broke under David R.'s nose, careful not to inhale any of the fumes himself.

The pupils of David R.'s eyes dilated once again. His body shuddered as his volition fled him; the shudder was very much like the wave of pleasure flooding the body from an orgasm, or so his test subjects had told Mr Tilley afterwards.

"You will not,cannot do anything to harm me, or harm me by inaction or through third parties," Mr Tilley said.

David R. remained impassive.

"Close your eyes," Mr Tilley said. David R. did so.

"When I snap my fingers, you will be your own man again," Mr Tilley said. "You will still obey my commands without question. You will feel as if you are waking up from deep anaesthesia, that's all. What you've experienced was an hallucination. Understand? You may speak."

"I understand," David R. said. "Just an hallucination."

"You'll not notice anything unusual in what I say, either," Mr Tilley said. "You'll hear me giving you commands, but you'll not find anything unusual or out of context about my commands. Understand?"

"I understand," David R. replied.

Mr Tilley snapped his fingers. David R. started, blinked, opened eyes that seemed heavy. He groaned, struggled to try and sit up.

"Don't try and get up yet," Mr Tilley said. Lie back, and relax."

"Okay," said David R., slumping back onto the chair.

"I'm not done with you yet," Mr Tilley said. "One more treatment yet to do, and you will be as right as rain, I promise."

"Thanks," David R. said.

"First, though, I want to see something," Mr Tilley said. "Raise up your right arm as though you were asking me a question."

David R.'s right arm shot up, stayed upright.

"Good," Mr Tilley replied. "Let your arm go down again." He watched David R.'s arm return to lie flat on the couch.

"So, anyway, how much will this treatment cost me?" David R. asked. "The tooth, I mean."

"Take your cock out of your trousers and play with it," Mr Tilley said, matter of factly, in the same tone of voice of a man discussing his bank account to a bank manager.

"I mean, you did a fantastic job on it," David R. said, unzipping his fly. His penis emerged, solid and stiff; he began to rub it up and down with his right hand. "I can't even feel the pain any more –"

"I'll have a schedule of treatment fees drawn up for you before you leave," Mr Tilley said, watching David R. masturbate. "A bit more slowly," he said. "I don't want you to lose it before the main act begins." The door opened. "Ah, there you are. Well, it looks like everything's all set. David, get up please. Keep shaking your peg like that. Yes, good. We're going to Reception now, where we will complete your treatment."

He smiled at Justine, who stood in the doorway with Kelly Tan. He glanced back at David R., who stood, perplexed, wondering why Justine was naked, what the Oriental girl was doing wearing a gas mask ... and why nobody was reacting to the fact that he was jerking off in front of these two women, least of all the women.

Mr Tilley watched David R. give a gasp as his arousal went through the roof. He smiled. "It's all to do with libido," he said. "The hotter you get, the stronger the suggestions. Ladies, lead the way."

Reception

The windows were open, though the blinds were closed here. The air had cleared of lingering traces of the gas.

Sadie and Beverley were already preparing the patients by cracking vials of drug underneath their noses.

"They're all so far under," Sadie said to Mr Tilley when he, David R., Justine and Kelly Tan entered Reception, "they'll be tasting Australian Vegemite when they wake up."

David R.'s jaw dropped to the ground as Sadie and Beverley stood up. Sadie's body was slender, willowy, with pert breasts; she shaved her pussy. Beverley's snatch was the same shade as her hair; a natural redhead. Movement to his right caused him to turn around: he saw the fourth nurse, naked as all the others, leading one of Mr Tilley's partners. Miss Mostyn looked as dazed as the people sitting down in Reception. They all looked like glazed – eyed zombies or robots.

"Stop wanking," Mr Tilley told David R., "but leave your cock out for the nurses to see."

"Outstanding," said Sadie.

"Upstanding," Helga replied.

"Justine, tell me honestly how you feel about David," Mr Tilley said to Justine.

"I want to fuck that man's cock," Justine said, matter of factly. "I want to ride him like Seabiscuit."

"Kelly?"

"I want to suck him off," said Kelly. "Hereally turns me on."

"Okay, then, let's get everybody here ready for a bit of fun," said Mr Tilley. "David, you might as well get naked along with everyone else. Kelly, you take off your clothes in front of him. Strip slowly. Give him a good, strong erection."

Mr Tilley glanced at Sarah C. "What shall we do with you, eh?"

Sarah C,

When Sarah C. woke up, she found herself in the Recovery Room. She was lying on one of the couches, and she was fully dressed.

In her civilian attire.

"I could've sworn I was in uniform ..." she said to herself. Slowly, Sarah C. got up, swaying a little, a trifle top heavy. The Recovery Room was dark, the windows closed, the blinds drawn: but the dim light filtering through the blinds suggested it was already early evening, and night was drawing in.

"I need a cigarette," Sarah C. said, getting up. Then she felt a bit perplexed. "Why did I say that? I don't smoke."

She felt a bit better, now she was on her feet. Sarah C. stretched, looked down. Her handbag was at her feet. She reached for it, opened it, took out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.

"What's this doing in my bag?" Sarah C. asked. "Oh, well, somebody must've put it in my bag by mistake." She made to leave the cigarettes and lighter on the table in front of her; they ended up back in the bag again instead.

"Oh, I know, I'll keep them, give them back to Helga or Beverley," Sarah C. said. She paused for a moment. "They won't miss one ..."

Blue smoke wreathed Sarah C.'s face as she lit the cigarette. She blew a streamer of smoke at the ceiling.

"Hope nobody comes in and catches me here," she said to herself. "I'll get sacked for sure."

She went over to the door, opened it a little and peeped through the crack. She nearly dropped her cigarette in shock.

Shutting the door hastily, Sarah C. stood, leaning against it, ignoring the cigarette in her hand. She just could not believe what she'd just seen in Reception.

Her first action, apart from stubbing out the cigarette in a plant pot nearby, was to check through her handbag for her Motorola video cellphone.This was Mercury Prize material, to be sure: or if not, then certainly something she could sell to every tab in the country.

There was no phone. Her purse, her IDs, they were all there. Her mobile phone, though ... not a sign.

I'll bet it's on the desk, Sarah C. thought, dropping her handbag.If I sneak in, they might not notice me ...

Sarah C. opened the door, looked over what she would later describe as "an ocean of iniquity."

In the far corner, riding one of the Keeley boys, was Sadie, both naked, both gleaming with sweat, gasping heavily. The Keeley boy had his fingers deep into the snatch of that townie girl Piper.

The penis of the other, prone, Keeley boy was being licked and sucked by both Miss Mostyn and Helga, as Beverley sat on his face and ground her thatch down to meet his mouth.

In front of her, between her and the desk, was what could only be Marsha Winstone, her head bobbing up and down between the legs of Mr Tilley, who was sitting in her seat behind the desk.

He was filming Marsha's act of fellatio on Sarah C.'s cellphone.

Marsha lifted her head. "How's that?" she asked.

"Oh, Marsha," Mr Tilley replied. "You're fantastic."

Turning around, Sarah C. saw something else. In the corridor leading up to the surgery rooms, Sarah C. saw three naked people, lying on the carpet. The man was prone; a black girl with her back to Sarah C. straddled him, his cock buried deeply inside her, her body rising and falling slowly. There was an Oriental girl, naked, riding the other end, apparently getting licked out by the white man underneath them both.

Approaching the threesome, Sarah C. felt shock and, paradoxically, sexual arousal. It was Justine, riding David R.'s, her former boss's, cock; it was Kelly Tan being given cunnilingus from David R.'s tongue.

"But hold on," Sarah C. said, "where's that other one? Rosamond Callas?" She turned to look at Mr Tilley, who smiled.

"You mean the mother of those two girls who gatecrashed the College end of year party two years ago, and ended up as showpieces of the College Orgy?That Rosamond Callas?" Mr Tilley asked.

"Yeah," Sarah C. said.

"Go to my surgery," Mr Tilley said. Sarah rushed into the room, expecting the worst.

She saw, instead, Rosamond Callas, sprawled over the dentist's chair. She was naked. Her face was flushed red; the flush was all the way down to her breasts. Her body glistened with sweat. The scent of her sex was all over the chair.

Rosamond, her face contorted with orgasmic pleasure, was masturbating, uncaring that she had an audience.

She was masturbating because she was watching something on the TV set which had been brought into the room from Reception.

She wasn't watching a looped advertisement tape.

She was watching videotaped footage of the College orgy.

Footage in which her girls could be seen strapped to tables in the middle of a room full of half naked, sweaty bodies. Footage showing her girls being penetrated in every orifice and screaming for more.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Sarah C. turned around, to see that Marsha Winstone had now stopped fellating herother former boss, and had now mounted him in his chair, riding his red, swollen, stiff cock as if her very life depended on it.

The End ...?