Sneeze on Monday...Danger Ch. 04

Cheryl dropped her head back onto the pillow after Dr Mecuniam had come; rather copiously she had thought but had been eager to swallow. Was she tired? Very tired? It was not easy driving home—should she have stayed? It was so lucky she had the rest of the weekend to recover. Really she had meant to go into work the next day and try and catch up. She was not up to it and slept most of the day, completely shattered.

Monday came. Cheryl had asked to come to the house again — or had Dr Mecuniam suggested it? She really could not remember, the house was becom­ing a bit of a blur — a delicious one though. She had gone to work; still feeling very tired and had tried to work—rather unsuccessfully she thought. Her secre­tary had asked if she was well. The staff had looked at her oddly.

She knew she should not be leaving work for hours yet, there was so much to do, her control of the company was slipping away but it was five-thirty al­ready and she could not wait any longer. Her glittering career path had stopped short and only a muddy track seemed to lead on; she should be work­ing, working on mending the disaster that her job was becoming; yet she felt compelled to go to the house, to revel in the pleasure.

This time it was Dr Mecuniam who was there first and it was he who was naked. He was standing at the end of the hallway, standing quite naturally, his thin kindly smile lighting up his face just like any host might look receiving a guest except for the unusual feature of being naked with penis standing erect. He moved towards her, ushering Cheryl into the front room.

"My dear, how delightful to see you this evening. Perhaps you would feel more comfortable if..."

Dr Mecuniam certainly looked better, if anything younger, than he had done when she first met him. Cheryl hated what he was making her do. Hating and loving it. She could not believe the pleasure yet she hated his control of her. This was not how she envisaged her life, her career. But she felt unable to do other than comply with his wishes. Cheryl removed her clothes.

The sex, this time in the front room, was good as it always was with him, Cheryl had been surprised at the use of the cane. It was as if Dr Mecuniam had known she would like her bottom to be chastised. Not that she could have re­sisted, she really seemed to have very little strength left. He had bent her naked bottom over his knee and given her a good thrashing. Unlike her own at­tempts with the cane she had not known when the next blow would fall—the anticipation had been exciting and the delivery on her bottom a surprising pleasure. She had knelt before him her hands behind her back, her mouth close to the dome of his erection, tongue touching looking up at Dr Mecuniam.

"You like the picture? It is perfect. I had it painted a long time ago."

She had licked and sucked but he had not come.

"Perhaps young women who have been chastised should be taken from be­hind?"

He had repeated their original act of intercourse and bent her over an arm­chair before sinking himself between her, this time rather red, bottom cheeks. The raised wheals hurt as he pushed against her but the pain mixed delicious­ly with the electric signals from her clit to bring her panting, sweating towards climax. Cheryl bit into her lip, drawing blood as the magic orgasm came again—a pulsing, an electric spurting almost as if her clitoris was ejaculating ener­gy. It was not as strong as before but it still kept going on and on.

"Yes, yes, come dear Cheryl, that is it. Oh, that is so lovely."

Cheryl's foggy mind was puzzled—it sounded almost as if Dr Mecuniam could feel her orgasm.

She staggered to her feet.

"Was that good my dear, really good?" He asked.

She swayed against him, "Yes, quite, quite fantastic, shall I?" She looked at his wetly pointing penis.

"In a little while, just recover yourself. There is no hurry. There is still plenty of time."

"I feel really funny, it's this dust, it's making my nose itch."

Dr Mecuniam looked at her in real alarm. She had not seen him look that way before.

"Please don't sneeze. Really, please don't. Not yet..."

Cheryl looked at him in puzzlement. Why shouldn't she sneeze? Why 'not yet?' It was an involuntary reaction after all — difficult to stop. It was odd the dust, the dust which did not seem to clear from the house no matter how she cleaned it, had not made her sneeze before. What a strange request! She could not help it if she wanted to sneeze. It almost made her cross. She lent against a chair and pulled a handkerchief from her bag. There was no stopping the sneeze; there was no denying it. Cheryl had never felt more like sneezing, it was coming, inexorably, and it was going to be a big one. She felt very peculiar as she put the handkerchief to her face and then it happened — the sneeze came — she sneezed. There was a silence as the handkerchief floated to the floor and a great swirl of dust spread across the room.

Dr Mecuniam sighed. He had been enjoying Cheryl's sweet body. Why couldn't it have lasted longer? He had thought there would be more time. Had been sure of it, she had seemed so full of vitality, so much drive and energy. The enjoyment seemed shorter and shorter each time now. At the beginning it had been months, a year even, before... He shrugged his shoulders and sat down, holding his head in his hands. The dust brought the excitement, the de­sire, the willingness to be controlled but was sternutatory and the result was always the same, more dust apt to cause the same effect as before.

"It's a matter of survival you see, you or me." He was not talking to any­one, just the room and the dust billowing around it, "I can't help it. I am old and have a lust for life: you were young and I needed what you had — your ener­gy. I am sorry." He meant it.

A sudden draught blew in through the door clearing the air somewhat. Within the room the dust was beginning to settle. On a table in the corner it floated gently downwards to land on a pile of old files, tied up in green tape, covering the files' old manila card in a layer of dust. Ready and waiting for the next time.

Dr Mecuniam stood. There were not many of his kind left. The years had taken their toll and, certainly, the hunting had not helped. It was easier with­out the blood, so much easier just to take the essence his way. No real evi­dence; no tell tale puncture marks; no strangely pale, emptied bodies but the police would nevertheless investigate, would want to know where Cheryl was last seen etc, etc - all tiresome and a bother. Perhaps they would send a young policewoman to inspect the house — with Cheryl's car outside the connection could hardly not be made. A young, strong — pretty perhaps but, more impor­tantly, a lively, energetic girl would be very pleasing indeed. Just what the doc­tor ordered, indeed! Dr Mecuniam smiled revealing his white and very pointed teeth.