Succumbing to Menudia Ch. 07

"Mason, glad to see you're fully rested," she said with a smile, quickly patting him on the arm with characteristic affection. "I certainly required more than a little recovery time of my own, as you can imagine. At any rate, we're going to need all that energy of yours for what we have in store."

Did she know what he'd been up to since they'd last spoken? He wasn't sure if he felt like explaining it to her, but he somehow sensed that she was aware, and, more encouragingly, that she approved.

Mason also wondered if a renewal of their earlier encounter was back on the table (given the formal nature of her outfit, she appeared to have stepped back into "psychologist" mode, although he would have been plenty willing to unzip those black slacks and increase her chances of pregnancy a bit more), but he figured he might as well take his cues from her. She was looking well and radiating enthusiasm for her work, and, as he stood up and smoothed out his cream-colored robe, he couldn't help but feel pleased to simply be in her company.

"So here's a bit of backstory: Menudia has been engaging in what we might call an ongoing research project, gathering data on various aspects of human sexuality, and she has decided that you would be a perfect subject for her research. Upon being informed of the general goals and parameters of the project, I offered to lead this portion of the study, and, given my extensive knowledge of your background and your psychological makeup, Menudia accepted."

Sounded cool so far.

"Now, in order for the data to be as accurate and useful as possible, I can't give you the full context of the various stages in the study -- you'll just need to follow my instructions and trust me."

"Yes, Danielle." It would have been hard to find anyone Mason trusted more, either before he'd been taken or after.

"OK! So, here's what I need you to do. Let's call this Round 1. See, in each of the rounds, we're going to introduce certain variables. It'll function sort of like an algorithm, where the choices you make in one round might inform what's presented to you in future rounds. If it doesn't all make sense right away, that's all right, you'll get the hang of it soon enough."

Was he supposed to find something objectionable about this?

"So for Round 1, your instructions are very simple. The main research room -- which I believe you are familiar with ..." She gave him a knowing wink. "... is to your right. Five of the girls are standing there in the room, each of them wearing different outfits, each of them willing to have sex with you. You are to pick the girl you would most like to have sex with, and then have sex with her. That is all -- for now."

Sure, he could do that. Which of the girls were in there exactly? What sort of outfits were we talking about here? Eh, he figured he'd find out soon enough.

"Yes, Danielle."

"Excellent! So .... just enter whenever you're ready. Once you begin, I'll follow you into the room in order to observe, take notes, that sort of thing."

Well, no reason to wait around. Mason straightened the sash on his robe, and opened the door to the large study room on his right.

Quietly shadowing him and closing the door behind them both, Danielle had an inkling or two as to how Mason would react, but no experiment would be worth performing if its outcome had been preordained. Therefore, adjusting her glasses and clutching her clipboard, she lingered toward the back, curious to witness her human variable's response.

There, lined up against the wall, just like before, were five of Mason's fellow female students. Something black and shiny on his far right jumped out at him in the corner of his eye, but he decided to take in each girl one at a time, starting with the girl on his left.

First in line was Emily, now wearing a small yellow t-shirt that featured a graphic consisting of white, black, and pink flowers and butterflies on it, along with the same jean skirt she'd been wearing back when the girls had taken Mason and brought him to the castle, and some white sandals. The bottom of her t-shirt fell micrometers short of touching the waist of her denim skirt. In addition, two or three multicolored bracelets dangled around each of her wrists.

Obviously he could go for that. Still, he might as well see what the other four girls were wearing.

Second in line was Liza, wearing a red leather jacket with all sorts of zippers and buckles on it, over what appeared to be a dark grey "Menudian Girl" t-shirt that sported the same font style and "castle with wings" logo that Jen's earlier t-shirt had featured, paired with a plaid, pleated schoolgirl skirt, white socks pulled up to her knees, and black platform shoes. The t-shirt, while far from baggy, was slightly looser than Emily's, the bottom of it dropping an inch or two over the top of the skirt.

Damn. Nice to see Liza in the mix here. Seemed like she was going for that "schoolgirl with a naughty streak" kind of look. Between her and Emily alone, it would've been a tough choice. Did he even need to keep going?

Danielle, standing near the doorway and inquisitively scrutinizing his face for signs of intent, watched and waited for his eyes to make their way through the entire line.

Third was Julie, her light brown hair now in a ponytail, wearing an unzipped grey hoodie (similar in style to the black one Karen had worn to the picnic, although a little more form-fitting) over a polo shirt that featured horizonal green and white stripes on it and which clung to her braless chest, along with the blue jeans she'd been wearing back when she'd helped take Mason (and back when she and Angela had had their "fun" in the massage room while Curt was napping), along with some white sneakers.

Cute, very cute. Normally Julie would have been a no-brainer, but ... the competition ...

Fourth was Angela, still in her white "milk maid" crop top, long floral-print skirt, and beige sandals, although Mason had not yet seen that fetching white garment cradling her breasts (it still having been covered up at the picnic by her sweater).

Definitely a good addition to the crew here. Angela would have been a perfect "country girl out in the hayfields" kind of fuck. Man, this was going to be tough.

Finally, on the far right, was Rachel, wearing an unbuttoned white short-sleeve blouse that was cropped several inches above her waist, over a close-fitting beige t-shirt that said "I Love Menudia" on it in the style of an "I Love NY" t-shirt (complete with a heart graphic in place of the word "Love"), black PVC skinny jeans, and pink patent high heels, her long reddish hair now in a braid, similar to the braid Karen had been sporting back at the picnic.

Danielle smiled knowingly to herself as she observed Mason's response to this last outfit.

Of course, he'd never quite told her during their counseling sessions what Leanna, his older sister's mysterious vinyl jeans-wearing acquaintance, had really looked like, but Danielle doubted that Rachel would have been less than a league or two above Leanna.

Also, though it was far from the main purpose of the study, Danielle thought it was so great to see Rachel embracing the opportunity to step out of her suburban fashion comfort zone as a member of Menudia's research team and to explore some items that were a bit more risqué for her, if still reasonably casual.

So much progress all around!

As Mason made his way toward Rachel, the tennis-playing head turner looked down at her vinyl-encased legs and gave off a brief, flattered grin.

Danielle promptly began scrawling notes on her clipboard.

It was just as she'd figured.

The other four girls, perhaps sensing they were merely serving as placeholders or decoys in this round, didn't seem particularly put out; if anything, they sneakily enjoyed watching Rachel's little wardrobe surprise locate their male classmate's weak spot. Besides, Mason had already had Emily and Julie once already (Liza and Angela, while slightly more disappointed, figured their time would come).

Danielle and the others looked on as Mason took Rachel's hand into his own trembling hand, and led her over to the corner of the room, between the sofa and the tiny bed, her trousers prominently squeaking as she moved with him. Then he guided her so that her back faced the wall, slowly parted her white button-up blouse, and began massaging her braless breasts through her beige t-shirt, Rachel opening her lips and tipping her chin upward in response.

His hands continued to admire her nipples, her taut tummy, and her shoulder blades through her two dueling shirts with his fingers. In fact, Danielle couldn't help but notice that Mason's hands were roving everywhere except toward the vinyl jeans. She couldn't tell if he was afraid to go there, or was simply saving the most consequential part for later. Either way, she scribbled a few more notes.

He kissed Rachel on her Adam's apple before moving up to her lips. Finally, after several minutes of fondling her blouse and t-shirt while making out with her, he was about to render Danielle's question moot.

He slid his hands down Rachel's back, across the bottom of her white button-up shirt, and began fiddling with the very, very tippy top of her PVC jeans.

A certain area of his robe protruded further outward.

For a while, it seemed to Danielle like dragging his hands along the waist of her pants, and that alone, was enough excitement for the day, but eventually, his hands made their way along Rachel's slick back pockets. During one particular kiss, he grabbed her smooth, glossy rear and, with a jolt, pulled her closer to him.

All the while, Danielle scrawled and scrawled. She knew Menudia would be pleased at the acquisition of all this compelling new research!

With his left hand continuing to tweak Rachel's nipple through the heart graphic of her "I Love Menudia" t-shirt, he removed his right hand from her shiny ass and gradually, dreamily wedged it in between the thighs of her still fully zipped jeans.

A seemingly small action, but Danielle suspected that, for the conflicted Greek-American boy with the long-suppressed vinyl fetish, it would have had a weight to it comparable to that of Odysseus returning to Ithaca and reuniting with Penelope after having longed to do so for 20 years.

The other girls continued to watch with a mixture of duty, jealousy, and excitement as Mason's hands soaked in every inch of Rachel's PVC fly, front pockets, belt loops, and the little folds the fabric made between her thighs and her crotch.

Rachel didn't think it was her place to influence the direction of the study, but if she had to wait any longer for him to unzip her jeans, she was going to go nuts.

"Mason please, Mason please ..."

Rachel having made her desires known, Mason slipped the metal fastener out of its slit, unzipped her fly, and slowly parted the sides of the plastic material. Rachel clutched his right hand in desperation, pulled it into her PVC jeans, and, with her rapid motions guiding him, helped him to stimulate her clitoris.

Danielle's pen went into overdrive.

Rachel rolled her head back and let out a series of quiet whimpers as the Menudian glow filled her eyes once more.

OK, Danielle thought, this was more like the Greeks finally sneaking in to Troy through the Trojan horse, opening the gates from the inside, and ransacking the helpless city.

Vanessa's fingers had felt stellar on Rachel's nub, but this business with Mason had a whole different kind of tension and weird build-up to it. Together her hand and Mason's feverishly finger-fucked her while she leaned against the wall in her constricting vinyl pants, his left hand squeezing every inch of that shiny black ass.

"Yeah ... yeah ... mmm ... mmm ... oh fuck ... oh fuck ..."

Rachel stiffened oddly for a moment, twisted awkwardly to her left, stiffened oddly for another moment, twisted awkwardly to her right, stiffened again, and then, after two sharp, barely managed inhalations, began twisting and squirming between the wall and Mason's hand.

The boy in the cream-colored robe found himself emitting a serpent-like hiss from his throat that bore virtually no trace of his formerly humorous demeanor.

"Succumb! ... Succumb! ... my lovely, obedient Rachel ... Succumb! ..."

Danielle wondered what Menudia (or her assistants) would make of all this data, but ultimately, that wasn't her prerogative. She continued with her notetaking.

The sound of Rachel's PVC thighs catching against themselves filled the room as her knees buckled and her legs bent the fabric, but if denim jeans aided a girl in remaining upright while having an orgasm, that went doubly so for vinyl jeans. Soon the hand that she had been using to guide Mason's fingers absent-mindedly slid out of her fly and lingered against her smooth, shiny hips as she slowly finished coming.

When the milky yellow shade faded from her eyes, Mason brought the pussy juice-soaked fingers of his right hand to her lips, before stroking her braid with it as he swapped out his fingers for his tongue, Rachel closing her eyelids, perhaps hoping for a respite.

But Mason apparently had other ideas. He slid his hand back between her open fly and continued to stroke her panty-less pussy.

Although foreplay was certainly not verboten, Danielle privately began to wonder if Mason had forgotten his one task, but she chose not to say anything just yet.

Rachel's breathing morphed into the same awkward whine as before. She placed one hand flat against the wall behind her while another hand clutched his robe as she seemed to be bracing herself for her second standing-up orgasm within minutes.

But, just as she appeared to be on the verge of it, he slipped his hand out of her PVC pants, pulled her down onto the same plush red rug stretching across the floor that he'd pulled Jen onto earlier, wiggled the waist of her vinyl trousers down to around her thighs, undid his robe, and began having intercourse with her on the rug.

Danielle gave off a bemused grin as her pen kicked into high gear.

On instinct, Rachel tossed her arms back over her head, her knuckles luxuriating in the softness of the rug as Mason fucked her brains out.

"Ah ... Ah ..."

The ends of her white button-up blouse fell over her sides and the bottom of her beige t-shirt slid up over her belly. Mason placed his arms under her slick, glossy legs (much as he'd done with Jen earlier) and really let her have it.

"Ah! ... Ah! ..."

Had she really doubted that she would get her turn eventually?

Although Rachel was nominally an adjunct participant and not a specimen herself, Danielle couldn't help but psychoanalyze the experience from Rachel's point of view as well. It must have felt nice to be spread out on the floor, being desired so intensely by this moody, charismatic boy (Danielle having wanted him to fuck her for the longest time as well), Rachel having worn the very thing that would have set him off ...

Not to mention the other girls standing there in the room, soaking in the sight of Rachel getting it on -- because he'd chosen her, not them -- and the fact that she was in her biological prime and was about to receive a batch of rich, creamy seed which she would be determined not to waste ...

Danielle was hardly surprised when she witnessed Rachel's chest poke upward and her irises turn blank as she came again -- if anything, the therapist was pleased.

But more important, for Danielle's purposes, was the event from Mason's point of view. She theorized that:

1) Mason was probably daydreaming about the many times he would have loved to have just pulled Leanna onto the carpet, precisely as he'd just done with Rachel, on those unexpected days whenever she'd come over to his house wearing PVC pants -- PVC pants just like the ones that Rachel was now wearing (well, at the moment, only partially wearing).

2) He was probably daydreaming about all the times he'd wanted to bang Rachel for that matter (no matter what she'd been wearing).

3) He was also probably thinking about the four other highly tempting options that he'd passed on, all assembled in a line, quietly admiring the spectacle of him fucking Rachel's brains out on the rug just a few feet away.

4) Not to flatter herself too much, but he was probably also aroused by the thought of his own highly attractive therapist, standing there in her blazer and glasses (they were indeed a nice pair, although she wondered if perhaps she should try out some different frames later on at the castle), scribbling pages and pages of notes about the unique enterprise ...

Danielle seemed wholly unaware of the "S" word escaping her lips with a desperate, rhythmic cadence as she observed her two objects of study behaving as their instincts demanded. At any rate, it certainly didn't impede her record-taking.

Mason came inside Rachel to an almost offensive degree. It was doubtful that she would fail to be inseminated after receiving that level of seed, but if she hadn't been aiming for an outcome of such procreational consequence, then she shouldn't have dressed up in that cropped white blouse, cute beige t-shirt, and what were, to Mason's psyche at least, the ultimate "fuck me" pants.

Spent and devoid of additional thought, Mason gently rested his head on her shoulder just above the heart graphic, Rachel's squeaking legs sliding onto the rug as his grip dissipated, both of them letting Menudia's (and Danielle's) fading whisper lull them to sleep.

A moment of near-silence passed, only broken up by the sound of Danielle frantically tapping her clipboard, before that sound ceased as well.

"Very well!" she exclaimed. "Very well. Let's give him a bit of time to rest, of course, and then we can resume."