Reborn in Sin

Cassandra Grace, newly hired lecturer at the University of Colorado, poked absently at the chicken on her plate. Dr. Algernon, her new boss, sat across from her with his politely smiling wife. He had just begun his third story about his days at the research clinic, though Cassandra was honestly losing track.

As he spoke, she idly imagined stripping the man naked and fucking him. It wasn't over any particular attraction to the man. It was just a means to make these occasional luncheons more bearable. Not that Dr. Algernon was unattractive--he had a trim form, strong features, and a distinguished salt-and-pepper beard--but it was the man's reserved nature and clean reputation that made him so fun to fantasize over.

"--I think it was in 2002 that I started my first fellowship, and it was only then that I really learned how much it was I didn't know," he said in his professorial tone, all the while Cassandra played out the scene of him fucking her in the ass, maybe with his wife joining in, just for the hell of it.

She laced her fingers in front of her mouth as she pretended to listen to him as she fantasized about him and his prim and proper spouse pleasuring her holes with a mindless, deviant intensity that she knew wasn't even remotely in them.

This fantasy shifted as the waitress came by, a slender red-head with freckles and a short skirt. With a wide smile, she refilled their drinks. As she walked away, Cassandra's eyes drifted down to the girl's gently swaying ass. She imagined sliding the girl's skirt up and finding a thong between her cute little cheeks.

assandra bit her lip at the thought, crossing her legs as she felt herself grow wetter. She smiled slightly, picturing herself pushing aside the soft fabric until she found bare flesh beneath. She could almost hear the girl's moans as she slipped her slender fingers inside...

"--and that's when I knew I'd really found something special in the field of psychology," Dr. Algernon's said with a nod, his rising voice popping her fantasy like a needle on a soap bubble.

The wife, patting her husband's hand lightly, "That's enough of your life journey, dear," she said with a light, teasing tone, then nodded at Cassandra. "What about you, though, Ms. Grace? What led you to become an academic?"

Cassandra cleared her throat, taking a sip of water as she quickly worked to pull her thoughts from the gutter. "Well, I always wanted the chance to connect with people. To understand them. I began studying psychology to help with that, and it just followed along from there."

That and it was a good excuse for getting close to horny guys, she added inwardly.

"Well, you've done an excellent job so far," Algernon said, leaning forward with raised eyebrows. "The reviews the students gave you for your first semester were superb."

With the tents some of those freshmen were sporting, they had fucking better.

"I was grateful to have such an excellent class. A real... eager group of students." She gave her most innocent smile.

The Dean of Psychology returned her warm expression with more meaning than she did. "Well, I think your future here in Boulder is bright indeed, Ms. Grace. Just keep doing what you're doing."

As the waitress came by, bringing the check, the young redhead met Cassandra's eyes. Cassandra smiled, and the girl blushed, looking away with her fingers twining her ginger locks. She saw that the name 'Ellen' was on her name tag.

"Oh, I most certainly plan to," she said, turning to the dean and wishing he were anywhere else on the planet right there at that moment. It was always so hard being degenerate when your boss was watching.

***

Cassandra sat in her car, feeling her car hum softly as it idled. She watched her boss and his wife pull out of the parking lot and drive off, undoubtedly to find someone else to bore to tears.

She thought of the blushing waitress, thought of the what might have been going through her crimson-haired head. Cassandra knew her own beauty. Knew she could draw out the desires of others quite effectively. It was the real reason she had taken to studying psychology, to understand how to best put that beauty to use. To stoke people's baser desires. To make others want her despite themselves.

Without realizing it, Cassandra's hand had slid down between her thighs, pulling up her pencil skirt to find her slick, bare sex, pleasantly aching from the dirty thoughts she'd been feeding it. She moaned softly as she traced her fingers along her wet slit, savoring the feel of her fingers them.

With a sigh, she removed her teasing hand and stared at her glistening fingers. No one knew how she truly was. Not fully. She knew what her field had to say about the subject, though.

Nymphomaniac. A very fancy word for an unabashed, unashamed, depraved slut.

She looked in the vanity mirror of her sedan. She admired her raven curls, curls that framed a pale face with high cheekbones and full, red lips. Cassandra watched the pupils of her emerald green eyes dilate as she looked on herself. Autosexual. That was another fun term she'd learned.

The labels ultimately mattered little to her. She did what she wanted, concerning herself only the potential consequences should the true extent of her habits be discovered. But she had spent years learning to avoid that.

Cassandra licked her fingers clean, savoring the tangy taste of her own juices. It was then that she felt the urge rise in her again, an urge inexplicably tied to her rising arousal. She tapped her chin lightly as she examined the feeling, a feeling almost uncanny in its pedestrian nature.

There were several places Cassandra had found herself visiting over her twenty-five years of life. Swingers' parties and sex dungeons. Leather bars and fetish clubs. High-class parties hosted by deviants like her with more money than they knew what to do with. She'd gone to these places on whim and desire, never questioning her inner yearnings.

Cassandra started her car and pulled out of the parking lot. She drove down the streets of Boulder, finding herself increasingly excited about her destination. She wasn't sure why she felt the rising need--a need veering well into sexual desire--to go where she was going, but she recognized it since the first time she walked into the place. Felt it more and more with each subsequent visit.

The Boulder Public Library.

***

There was something strange in the air as she arrived at the library. Cassandra felt it even before she walked through the sleek glass doors. It wasn't a scent, nor even something physical that she could tell. It was almost as if she were pressing into something, like a gentle pressure she found herself submerged in as she stood in the main foyer.

She vaguely remembered the sensation from previous visits, but it was stronger now. Strong enough that she could almost feel it pressing on her. On her mind. Cassandra felt an involuntary grin pull at her lips. Whatever it was, it felt good.

It was as if she were floating as she walked across the thin carpeted floor; a pink haze settling over her vision, light and soft as cotton candy. She felt a pleasant tingling run across her skin and an ache grow between her thighs.

And looking in the eyes of the men and women in the library with her--clerks, university students, librarians, all of them--she could tell they all felt it, too. She could feel their hunger almost as much as her own. A lustful need like Cassandra had never experienced in all the other delightfully debaucherous places she had frequented in the past.

Her eyes drifted up to the vent, wondering if someone was pumping something into the air. Wondering if the site was being used as some kind of clandestine experiment. Some MKUltra, Midnight Climax kind of deal.

If so, then sign me up, she thought, and giggled.

The last time she had been there, she had slipped into the bathroom and, with only her fingers, had gotten off harder than she'd ever managed in her life. It had been the kind of climax that had left her dazed for hours afterwards.

Pheromones in the air, maybe?

In the steady quiet of the library, a new ambiance was becoming clear. Cassandra could hear it on the edge of her vision. Soft cries. Hushed laughter. Moans rising and falling. Cassandra shivered with delight as she listened, never feeling so aroused before. So wet.

Her fingers trailed down the spine of a book poking half from a shelf. It was a genealogy of 17th century English royalty. Cassandra knew something was off, because even that was turning her on. She edged the book back into place when she heard one of those lovely noises nearby.

Stepping gently, she made her way towards the sound. A soft cry, barely muffled. Seconds later a halting moan rising from a small, sectioned off study area. Cassandra licked her lips as her fingers teased the lever for the door. Did she dare?

An then, out of nowhere, came a voice soft and sweet as sin. You know what's in there, Cassandra. Don't you? You know what you *want* to be in there?

Cassandra's eyes went wide. She turned, looking around for the source of the voice, but there was no one nearby.

Don't worry, the voice said, and only then did Cassandra realize she wasn't hearing the voice; it was rising in her mind. It's safe. No one to look down on you. No one to judge. You can indulge yourself. You can be free.

Her hands shook. She felt confused. Exposed. For the first time in her life, Cassandra doubted her sanity. Had she finally snapped? Had her perverse desires finally disconnected her from reality?

Another moan came from behind the thin dividing door. The ache between her thighs was deepening. Growing more insistent. If you were, the voice said with a gentle laugh, would you care?

Cassandra took a deep breath, steadying herself. For her entire life, she had never been ashamed of who she was. Never let anything make her feel less for the dirty, deviant thoughts she reveled in. She had always been in control. Always been true to herself. Not to the world, maybe, but always to herself.

She felt herself smile. Felt the haze clear somewhat. Her sex still ached, her nipples hard under her blouse. Her skin seemed to tingle with an unnatural sensitivity.

And she was OK with that.

Whatever this is, she thought as her hand rested on the lever for the door. If someone is out there watching, you better take notes.

She felt sure she heard faint laughter as she pushed open the door. A few steps inside the small space, and she could already smell the faint musk of feminine desire.

"Oh my," she said as she turned to see a young woman on the floor, her floral print dress slid up her creamy thighs, the shoulder strap slid down to expose one delightfully plump, round breasts. She had a cute, heart-shaped face that was dappled with sweat, with a button nose and a slightly mussed blonde bob. Her lips were parted, panting as her hands moved between her legs, steadily rubbing her slick, glistening pussy.

The girl's eyes were glassy with lust, but as Cassandra approached, that rose to focus on her. She blushed a scarlet red, even as she continued to pleasure herself.

"S-something's wrong," she mewled. "I... I can't th-think... It feels... Aaaaah.... It feels..."

"Shhhh," Cassandra said, kneeling down with the girl, plucking the cotton panties laying near the girl's ankles and tossing them aside. "I understand. I feel it, too."

The girl shook her heads, her hips bucking up into her fervent fingers. "Wh-what's happening? How can it feel sooo gooood...."

"I don't know," whispered Cassandra. "But I might be able to help. What's your name, dear?"

"T-T-Tress..."

"All right, Tress," Cassandra cooed, her hand caressing up from her ankle, tracing the quivering skin with her fingertips up to her thigh. "Would you like me to... help you?"

Tress looked at Cassandra, her lips trembling. She could see the desperation in the girl's eyes. Could see how hard she was fighting against herself--and losing. She watched as a bead of sweat ran down Tress's neck and down the lovely swell of her exposed breast.

Finally, with a soft whimper, she said, "Y-yes... P-please..."

Cassandra smiled gently as she stroked along her inner thigh until she felt Tress's breath catch in anticipation of what was coming next. She leaned in, her lips close to the girl's ear as her hand rested over Tress's, just where she was caressing her pussy. "Let me show you how it's done. I'll show you how good it can really feel."

Tress's moan muffled as Cassandra took her mouth in a deep kiss. As she did, she slid two slender fingers past her glistening folds and deep into her wet warmth. Tress's whole body arched up, writhing and squirming as Cassandra thrust her fingers in and out of those heavenly depths.

"See what a little practice can do?" Cassandra murmured, her lips hovering over Tress's as her fingers curled to find the girl's most sensitive area. The young blonde's moan became a gasp of pure pleasure, "Ooooooohhhhhhh..." Her hands clutched at Cassandra's shoulders, stifling her holding on for dear life. Her hips bucked beneath her tight dress, rocking towards the bliss she craved with every cell in her body.

"Do you want to cum, Tress? Do you want to cum for me?"

Tress didn't answer; her body spoke louder than her voice ever could. Cassandra could see it in her pleasure glazed eyes and her lust drunk face; a dark, deviant need only Cassandra could sate.

Cassandra kissed her again, her tongue pressing into Tress's as she intensified her movements. Each passing second sent the girl's sinful pleasure rising closer and closer to its climactic peak. Cassandra could feel Tress moaning in to her mouth, could feel her juices coating her thighs as she worked the girl's quivering cunt.

And then, like a tidal wave, Tress's whole body bucked up, her hips spasming as she did. She moaned desperately into Cassandra's mouth as her orgasm drove on and on. Her pussy clenched around Cassandra's fingers, squeezing them even as she drove Tress's pleasure ever onward.

It was only after several seconds of mindless ecstasy that Cassandra broke the kiss, admiring the glazed look on the girl's face as she rose her hand to lick the tangy nectar from her fingers, savoring the difference in taste between her and the girl. "There. Feel better?"

Tress only whimpered in response, which drew a giggle from Cassandra's lips. "I see," she said, reaching down to tease the sensitive nub between Tress' legs with one finger. The girl gasped, the pleasuring shock pulling her back to the present.

"Still need it, don't you?" Cassandra teased as she pressed her fingertip harder against Tress' clit.

"Oh god..." she moaned. "Yeesss, I neeed iit...."

"That's good," Cassandra said, grinning. "Because I do, too."

Then she took the girl's hand, and put them back where they were, sliding her own fingers inside herself. Almost unthinkingly, she went back to masturbating, her hips writhing up to meet her fingers.

"Good girl," she murmured, admiring how well she'd made the girl cum herself senseless. She slid her fingers up the girl's body, playing with her perky tits while pulling up her own skirt with her free hand. She slid the thin fabric up around her hips, exposing her own smooth sex; wet, engorged, and jealous of the attention its counterpart had received.

She took hold of Tress's chin, pressing her lightly against the dividing wall she had been resting against. "Now, I want you to relax and do what's natural, like the delightful little slut you are."

Tress was too far gone in her own lust to even respond. Cassandra moved forward, lowering her needy pussy into the young woman's face. Without protest, Tress responded by pressing her lips against Cassandra's sex, snaking out her tongue and licking up Cassandra's slit as if it were some kind of delicious dessert. Cassandra held steadily against the girl, letting her lick gently along Cassandra's dripping pussy lips until she could feel her inner thighs quivering with anticipation.

"Aaaah," Cassandra breathed, her entire body shuddering with the pleasure of the girl's tongue. "So fucking good..."

And it was. The pleasure was beyond anything she'd ever felt in her long sexual experience. It stretched into the uncanny; a kind of unnatural ecstasy that didn't feel real. It was all she could do to hold on to her thoughts. Hold on to who she was.

No wonder this girl's in such a state... if this got any more intense, I think my mind would snap like a twig...

Wouldn't that be nice, though? came that telltale voice in her mind. You wouldn't have to worry about anything else ever again. You could live in this bliss forever and ever.

Cassandra could feel that press on her mind again. Or had it always been there, and she just forgot it was there? Regardless, as the pressure increased, and she felt the aberrant sensation of something sliding along her thoughts, poking and probing into her psyche. The pleasure she felt doubled, her every nerve seeming to rewire itself for pure physical ecstasy.

She let out a sharp gasp, writhing against Tress's mouth as an orgasm rose so powerful she could tell it would shatter her already wavering willpower. She craned her head back, unable to pull away; unable to stop. She sneered with the effort of trying to control her own body. Control her own pleasure.

Not like this. I don't want it like this.

The voice in Cassandra's head wasn't soft anymore. It was like piercing needles in her mind, pricking and poking at her will, muddling her thoughts and making it harder and harder to hold on. Oh? I thought that's what you always wanted, Cassandra... To fuck. To cum. To be a depraved slut with no worries. No consequences.

That was what she wanted, wasn't it? Since she'd discovered the pleasure her body could give her, hadn't everything else just been a pretense? A means to navigate a bland and boring society till her next lay?

Wouldn't it be better to give all that up? To toss it away for a life of mindless obedience and endless pleasure? It would be so easy. All she had to do was let go. Let go, and dive into the rising ocean of ecstasy waiting to embrace her.

No.

Isn't this the life you wanted? The way you wanted *everything* to be?

Cassandra took Tress's head in her shaking hands and gently pushed her away, stepping back as she did so. Of course it is. But not like this. Not without the thought. The intention. I make people like this; I take them to that place. I don't get put there.

She looked down at the girl sitting against the wall. Her eyes unfocused, she didn't even seem to notice that Cassandra had pulled away from her. She stared blankly up at the ceiling, moaning as her fingers mindlessly piston in and out of her quivering sex.

The pressure on Cassandra's mind spiked suddenly, and she clasped her head as she felt something, some force, wriggling inside. You think you're too good to live in this place? the voice intoned, a dark tinge growing at its edge. I can easily correct you of that opinion.

Cassandra gripped the desk for balance, feeling a wave of pleasure crash through her body like a tidal wave. Her breath came faster and harder, her breasts heaving with every stuttering gasp. It was almost impossible for her to concentrate; everything seemed muddled--as if she were watching everything unfold from far above it all.