Tami Beethoven

In his desperation Rod decided to call on the assistance of Homer Winant.

Homer was on the other side of the bar, chatting with Gretchen, Professor Ling, Vanessa Congi and Mrs. George. "Could I speak with you?" He decided to go for broke; Tami needed all her friends at a time like this. "In fact all of you." How to explain it? "You see that tail Tami has? Well, it's not just a tail. Inside it's... it's..."

"It's a sex toy, yes I know," Homer said. "Works by remote, as I understand."

"Well here's the remote," Rod said, waving it in front of them. "See? I took the batteries out! Tami's going through that interview; and it's somehow gotten activated. Look!" They watched as the tail wagged again. "That's what happens when she has an orgasm with that thing!"

"Oh Lord!" Mrs. George said.

Gretchen and Ms. Congi and Professor Ling looked with widened eyes.

"Well tell that Doctor guy to stop the interview!" Ms. Congi said.

"I'll try to butt in," Rod said. "IF Tami will let me. Meantime it doesn't solve the problem of that... thing... noodling around inside her."

"Can't she just pull it out?" Gretchen said.

"No, it's expanded inside. That works by remote too. It's expanded to a bulb inside three inches across. It's physically impossible to take it out unless the expansion button is turned off." Rod looked around. "We've GOT to find that extra remote! We've looked around, and everyone here has, um, hands all accounted her."

Homer took charge. "Let's move it! I'll speak to Hank, he's the security guy. We'll search the kitchen, the maintenance room, downstairs... What's the range of the remote?"

Rod remembered the TL's chasing Tami down the street and into Hightop Park. "I'd say two hundred feet."

"Oh shit... it could be anywhere in the terminal... Well, I'll get moving." And he quickly wheeled past the bar and opened a door that said "Staff Only".

"God, I hope there IS an extra remote," Ms. Congi said, voicing what everyone was dreading.

They stood around helplessly, watching Tami suffer through another question. She idly twisted her toes against the carpet, then scratched a nipple. They saw her tummy expand and contract in a deep exhale. The Doctor was engaging her eye-to-eye. Rod and Gretchen, remembering the ride here, and Tami's description of uncontrollable orgasmic responses, wondered if the Doctor could detect the dilating of her pupils. Rod thought about what Tami had said about her trials at Chalfont, about how she tried to get used to them, tried to get used to the orgasms, but each one just ripped her heart out and shook her emotions to the core.

Professor Ling, quickly up to speed on this, said in his professorly manner, "What if there is in fact no other remote? What if that... device... inside her has simply gone haywire?"

"Oh God," Barbara said. She and Melissa looked at each other. "They'd have to extract it somehow!"

"Chalfont has an emergency room," Vanessa Congi said. True. As part of a funding obligation the Chalfont Institute had a small walk-in clinic on the far side, where the highway was, that was open 24 hours. Not widely known among faculty and students. The college had its own health center, and the clinic dealt almost exclusively with people from the town.

"We've got to drag her there first," Rod said. "And that sounds really dangerous. How can they take it out? They'd have to take it apart, inside her."

Though it was not visible through their elegant clothes, all four of them clenched their buttocks at the thought.

A man in a security guard's uniform bolted out of the "Staff Only" door and hurried out of the lounge and down the escalator. Conversation began to die down as there was a sense that something was wrong. People looked around.

Rod didn't want people looking at Tami, he didn't want a whole crowd of people witnessing her in her dire distress. So when he sidled back toward the table where the Doctor was interviewing the standing naked girl he did it as slowly as possible. Gretchen sidled over with him, leaving the three older people to look on from afar.

He got in next to Professors Girardo and Wanamaker, who had been watching the interview intently, not aware that anything was amiss, thinking that Tami showed a little nervousness -- especially that curious nervous twitching of her tail -- but was otherwise acquitting herself quite well.

Now all three looked on in alarm as the Doctor paused in the middle of a question.

"Are you all right, Miss Smithers?" he said.

Tami's eyes were wet and a tear had trickled down which she was wiping away.

"Yes -- I'm OK" -- the tail began to wag, and Tami timed her words in between wags -- "it's just -- hay fever..."

The Doctor laughed. "Oh I quite understand. I sympathize, my dear. I used to suffer from that as well." How relaxed, how casual he was, as he idly tugged his mustache and looked down at his papers to continue the question, question number seventeen.

"Gentlemen!" Rod whispered urgently to Girardo and Wanamaker.

"Please, Mr. Sykes, we're busy," Girard said.

Rod, realizing for all he knew he might be jeopardizing Tami's chances by doing just this, took Girardo firmly by the arm and led him away. Wanamaker followed.

In a carefully controlled urgency he whispered the situation to them. Both men turned in amazement to Tami's tail.

"You mean she is having orgasms while being interviewed?" Girardo said, as if in outrage.

"She can't help it!" Wanamaker said. "We've got to do something!"

Girardo was still having trouble assimilating this sudden and astonishing information. "So every time that tail wags -- I've counted ten times already -- ten orgasms?!?"

"Her capacity is incredible. Look, she's being... violated. We've got to stop this interview!"

"Oh Jesus, this will torpedo our chances at the International for sure," Girardo said. "A candidate who's allergic to clothes, and now she's having orgasms during the interview!"

"You've got to stop the interview!" Wanamaker said, echoing Rod.

"Well go ahead," Girardo said.

"No, you're the head of department. It's got to be you!" Wanamaker said.

He was right about that. Girardo drained the last of his wine and cleared his throat. He had obligations to the school but his obligations to his students were greater. He approached the table where the Doctor sat.

After a brief hesitation, he said, "Dr. Lambert, I must tell you something."

"Please!" the Doctor said in his most imperious manner. "I'm in the middle of the interview. You know it shouldn't be interrupted!"

"But Doctor, this interview must come to an end." Girardo looked at Tami, up and down, with concern that must have told Tami that he was aware of what was going on inside her. "Miss Smithers is not able to continue."

"NO! I'm... OK -- ohhh!" Tami blinked and her body lurched forward and she looked like she was about to cry, having betrayed her emotions for the first time with that little moan. With tremendous effort she straightened herself up, her toes grasping the carpet. "G - give me the next questionnn..." She looked at both men in the eye, with as even an expression as possible, pupils dilating. Behind her, the tail wagged again.

With a very presumptuous motion Girardo took Dr. Lambert by the arm and led him aside. He motioned for Rod, who quickly explained the situation. The Doctor looked at the suffering naked girl in amazement and approached her.

The distinguished Dr. Francoise Lambert, tall and elegant and exquisitely dressed in his three-piece suit, looked down at the naked five-foot-five quivering young woman, who strained to meet his gaze with wet, twitching eyes.

"My dear, I'm very sorry... I've been told about the, uh, device inside you. Under the circumstances we can... postpone the rest of the interview."

Just then Homer busted onto the scene, wheeling in with an urgency that was very unusual for him.

"We've looked everywhere. Nobody has any remote!"

It was then, in the middle of an increasing circle of onlookers, that Tami Smithers shook and collapsed onto the carpet, her butt and the tail sticking up in the air, and began to sob.

Part 46

In the midst of this elegant restaurant and bar, and the fully dressed, if outlandish, finery of the smart fashion set, the naked girl with the tailed dildo deep in her rectum was on the floor, on all fours, her jerking butt high in the air.

Absurdly, she tried to stand up and apologize to the distinguished men. Her tummy quaking, her navel twitching, she staggered up with a great, slow effort on unsteady bare feet as another crest washed over her, shaking her to the core. "D - doc - torrr... P - p - professsssorrr... I'm s-s-so sorrrry you... have to -- ohhh!" -- she bent forward as if punched in the stomach -- "Seee me like thissssss... ohhhh..."

Dr. Lambert got up to speed much more quickly than Girardo had. "We have to take her to an emergency room," he said. He didn't look it but he was seventy years old, and gay, from an era when being gay was strange and abnormal and one tended to do other abnormal things too. He remembered the ill-advised experiments with tin cans, ketchup bottles, light bulbs. Embarrassing as it was, going to the emergency room was the only solution.

"What can they do for her there?" Rod said. "That thing inside her is too big now to take out!"

"They'll have to break it inside her."

"How?! It will cut her up inside!"

"Make a plaster of paris mold around it, then crush it."

Homer said, "How can they work inside her with her jerking around like that?" They felt like explorers climbing through the vault of Tami's rectum, looking for a way out. Meanwhile, in the outside world, Tami had crumpled to the floor again. The horrified and helpless circle of people looked on as she flopped around like a fish on a boat deck.

"Anesthesia, of course," Lambert said.

"Would that work?" Rod said. Would knocking Tami out stop these intense reactions? This was different than when Spica and the other TL's were at the house that day, toying with Tami like a marionette on a string. The efforts of their fingers on the touch pad ebbed and flowed with Tami's crests and troughs. Here, it appeared that the moving bumps massaging and mauling Tami's innards were continuous. Which was scary. Maybe there was no devious hidden person with a second remote. Maybe the thing was malfunctioning, stuck on "drive Tami crazy!" until whatever batteries worked it ran out. Hours? Days?!

"Oh - oh - oh - " Tami had flipped tummy up now, eyes squeezed shut, her hands and feet supporting her crab-like, jerking her open, palpating pussy up with each spasm, right into Lambert's and Girardo's faces. Her toes spread and squeezed in time.

As they watched this gruesome scene, a strange fascination took hold. Especially on the part of the men, witnessing this spectacular display of the female multiple orgasm. What was it like, to have an earth-shattering climax -- and then, a few seconds later, have another, just as intense? And then another? And another? --

"Somebody do something!!" Terry said. She and Rod looked at each other. The only ones there who had read Tami's freshman year diary, the only ones who knew the horrors the naked freshman had endured at the Chalfont Institute...

Quickly Rod realized something. He pulled out his remote and saw Sarah Wickland's card that he had taped to it. He whipped out his cell phone.

Tami lay on her side, trying to catch her breath. "Oh Rod... please helppp..."

He dialed the number of Mrs. Wickland's office in California, turning away from the scene so as to hear better, so that he faced the glass and the starry nighttime view of the runways. Homer wheeled around to his side.

His heart sank as he heard a recording. "This is the law office of Sarah Wickland." In fact it wasn't Sarah's voice, but the voice of her assistant Nina West. "We are moving this week and will reopen at our new location on Monday, March 30. If you need assistance call the Encino County Lawyers Service at 555-2367."

"Shit!!" Rod said. He said to Homer, who he thought should be in the loop, "a damn recording!"

"Ohhh -- " Tami was in tears, her face beet red, sweating, looking over at him. "Please Rod! Help me!"

"I'm calling Mrs. Wickland!!" he shouted back. With urgent fingers he tapped out the new number. So urgent that he misdialed. Cursing himself, he started over. As he waited, and waited, watching his naked wife in her dire distress, he tapped his foot. Finally a ring. Then another. Then another.

"Good morning," a sprightly female recorded voice said. "Welcome to the Encino County Lawyers Service automated directory. Please say the name of the attorney you wish to contact. Say the first name first, then the last name. You can interrupt these instructions at any time. Don't worry, I won't mind."

"Ohhh... God..." Terry held Tami's hand. Now Trent hugged her as she tried to catch her breath again. Nobody was counting but Tami was recovering from orgasm number fifteen.

Rod hated these voice activated menus. With as even a voice as he could manage, he said, "Sarah Wickland." A long pause.

"Did you say... Farley Pickler?" the sprightly voice said. "Say yes if I have that correct."

"No!"

"Please try again. Say the first name first -- "

"Sarah... Wickland!"

"Eeee!" Tami wailed as she was pulled up to the peak yet again. Terry and Trent looked at Rod desperately.

A pause. "Did you say... Perry Winkler? Say yes if -- "

"Sarah Wickland!!"

A pause, punctuated by the sound of Tami's sob. "Did you say... Scary Pinkler?"

"Get me an operator please!" Rod closed his eyes and felt about to cry himself, with frustration.

A pause. "Did you say... Gotmolly Pease?" Sprightly voice.

"Get me an operator please!"

A pause. "Did you say... Gremlin O'Reese?" Sprightly voice.

"Get me a f**king operator please!!"

A pause. "Did you say . . ." -- Trent was trying to give the rapidly dehydrating Tami a glass of water -- "Gotfranklin Reese?" Sprightly.

"Get me a f**king operator please!!" Rod felt like hurling the cell phone through the glass enclosure.

A pause. A long, long pause. Rod wanted to curse but dare not say anything more. "Let me transfer you to an operator."

"Thank God!!" Rod said out loud. When he got a live person, an old-sounding female, he blurted out that he needed Sarah Wickland in a hurry. Then was told Sarah's cell phone was not public knowledge. He was in a private hell before he thought to say the magic words -- "Tami Smithers needs her right away!" Evidently the operator had a note allowing the cell to be given out if Tami called.

Rod tapped out the cell phone number and, afraid of what he might see, turned to look. Tami's body was upright and stretched out into an X, legs apart on the carpet, Terry stretching out her left hand, Trent her right. Her body was all red now and sweating, overheating, dehydrating. Jorge, the bartender, now began aiming water at her from the selzter spritzer hose behind the bar. Jorge must have been risking his job, knowing the water would ruin the elegant carpet. The arcs hit Tami all over, her face, her shaking breasts...

Rod thought of Tami in happier times, sweating after her grounds crew labors, being doused by Jose. And there was that dream about that damn majorette, marching in the freezing cold, then dancing in the jets of fire hoses...

After some hesitating, Jorge conceded the part of Tami that needed cooling down the most, and he began to concentrate the streams on her quaking, pulsating pussy. In an effort to tamp down her reactions, Barbara knelt in front, getting soaked herself, and pulled the outer lips open and apart as wide as she could, so that the ice-cold water could enter her womanly cavity. People crowded around to watch. Tami's eyes blinked and blinked with her gasps.

"Sarah! Tami wore the tail to a party we're at and it's gone haywire! It won't stop! And it's not me! I had taken the batteries out of the remote!"

"That's impossible," the concerned voice said on the phone. "There's -- "

A moment of silence. Then Rod realized the connection was lost. Do I call her or wait till she calls me?

"EEEE!!" Tami's eyes popped open.

Part 47

Fortunately his cell rang right away and Sarah was back.

"There's only one remote," Sarah said. "I made sure Stirchak destroyed the prototype. And right now there are no pony girls within a thousand miles of you. We keep track of them, you know."

"Who's Stirchak?"

"Ted Stirchak. He's the guy who invented the new tail. A neurologist. He did the research about the crushing testicles -- "

"Where is he? Could you call him? This is an emergency! I don't know how much more Tami can take!"

A short pause. "Yes I can call him. I'll be right back to you."

Tami had collapsed onto all fours, her head down. Evidently in a blessed gap between orgasms. Jorge had stopped spritzing. The place was quiet, everyone waiting to see what would happen. Tami's voice was heard, half crying. "Oh Rod... Rod... help... EEEEE!" Her head jerked up and her eyes bugged out. Not again!

Rod watched as Tami went through the strangest agony a woman can know. She bucked back and forth like a bull trying to throw off a rider. And now, to his horror, he felt his dick getting hard! He was not alone. Almost every straight male was having the same reaction.

The cell rang and he was glad to focus on something else. This time it was a man's voice, with a strange accent. Gretchen, a native of upstate New York, could have told him it was a Buffalo area accent. "Mr. Sykes! Is that you?"

"Yes!"

"I understand there's no time for chit-chat so let's go. There's an override code. Put the batteries back in the remote... OK? Now, press the buttons in this order, purple, purple, white, green, white, green, white. After that you're in override and you can press the black 'off' button."

"What am I overriding? Is there another remote?"

"There has to be. The tail won't go on and on just by itself. It's got no internal battery and has to be activated from outside, and besides, there's an automatic shutoff if the signal doesn't vary for more than five minutes. I don't know how it happened but somebody must have made another remote."

Rod fumbled with the batteries and dropped them and then picked them up and finally managed to shove them into in the damn remote. "So what's that sequence again?"

He pressed the buttons as ordered and then, hovering close over Tami, pressed the "off" button and aimed the remote at her as if he was shooting her with it.

Nothing. Tami kept quaking.

He tried it again. Tami kept quaking, waiting for the next onslaught.

"Well then somebody must be overriding the override," Stirchak said. "I just don't know what's going on. I'm sorry about this. Maybe an emergency room?"

Now, an unearthly wail from Tami, as she looked up through the glass enclosure at the black night, and the full moon. Everyone held their breath as she launched into another orgasm, one she dearly did not want, as if in the last stages of an extended, tortured execution devised by... some deviant genius...

"O - ho! O - ho!" It sounded like the wailing of a widow, falling on her husband's casket. With Tami on all fours like that, bucking back and forth with her tail, it might have seemed almost comical, a dog-bitch howling at the moon. That is, unless you loved her and cared about her.

Homer said, "Let's get her the hell out of here and out of range. Meanwhile we'll look again for whoever is doing this to her."

Rod thought: Of course! Why didn't anyone think of this! "Gretchen, can you work a stick?"

"Of course, I'm a farm girl!" she said.

"You drive her to our house. Meanwhile Homer and I will tear this damn place apart."

Terry and Karu and Trent and Gretchen carried the sobbing, sweating naked girl away, holding up her entire weight, her bare feet making only occasional contact with the carpet. She seemed trying to bring her legs together but was unable. "We'll follow behind," Terry said as they left.