Chapter 144: Anne's Song 004

She answered on the first ring, sounding breathless. Before I could tell her about my last few days, she started gushing about this guy she'd just met. A perfect stranger, but she'd invited him up at once, and they'd just had the most fantastic sex she'd ever experienced. She was flying high, couldn't stop saying how good it was. And then she said he was coming out of the bathroom, woofed, and hung up the phone.

Sweet Mary mother of Jesus. Jenny too. I would have to get with her as soon as she was free, find out more from her. But going over there now was out of the question. I would be panting right next to her with her new "boyfriend."

So there were at least a dozen of us that had been, uh, programmed this way. And easily a dozen units out there that men were using. When could it have happened? And what, exactly, was it that happened?

I started feeling my head, my neck. It didn't take long. There was a lump the size of a pea at the base of my skull. The flesh around it was tender, and when I looked in a mirror, I saw that it was red, with a tiny puncture wound in the center.

Okay. That's where. Why is obvious. Next is how? Or maybe when.

Every sexual encounter in my life seemed momentarily suspect. But no. The lump on my head was fresh, and certainly NOTHING even remotely compared to this week's festivities. So it had to have been within the last few weeks.

But when? I didn't have any gaps in memories, didn't do anything out of the ordinary. The only thing new in my life was Linda.

I angrily pushed the thought from my head. It couldn't be Linda. I simply refused to believe it. I trusted her implicitly, more so than anyone I'd ever met. I'd trust Linda with my life.

And the thought came unbidden, if someone put a governor in your head, wouldn't they program it to make you trust them?

Fuck.

What did I know about Linda? She'd been in town for a mere 4-5 months. Ask a dozen of her clients and you'll get a dozen different answers what she does. She's a counselor, a hypnotherapist, a practitioner of biofeedback technology. Even a guru, a spiritual leader. Before Jenny talked me into going, I was deeply suspicious. But it only took a few sessions to win me over completely.

And how had that come about? For me, it was biofeedback. I went in seeking relaxation, a freedom from tension. She promised happiness, and I almost walked out then. She gave me a bitter herbal tea (valerian, she said, with hops and some other soporifics), hooked me up to the feedback unit, and the first session went swimmingly well. I felt great afterwards, and let go of some of my skepticism.

The next session, after the tea, she began talking about using a more western approach; a pharmaceutical mix given by injection that would greatly speed the process. As relaxed as I was by the first two sessions, and prompted by Jenny's near fanatical testimony for the process, I allowed her to inject me the next time – three weeks ago. And two weeks ago, and last week.

The injection was potent. I joked about how it knocked me out. Apparently it had.

Damn. How could I have been so gullible? How could I extend so much trust to a complete stranger?

And even now, I didn't want to believe that Linda would do such a thing to me.

Suddenly I wondered what I would find at the base of her skull.

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So what now? Insanely, I wanted to rush to Linda, confess everything I'd been thinking and ask her forgiveness. But that was probably more of the governor talking. What in my own mind could I trust?

I needed to talk with Jenny. But she wasn't going to be available for awhile yet.

What if he went off with her? If the first guy had been attractive, instead of repulsive, I would have made the mistake of thinking it was love at first sight. If he'd used his magic wand on me all weekend, I might well have left with him. One full night of Animal House and I was more willing to stay than I cared to admit.

A daring plan. I could wait till fairly early Sunday morning, sneak into the frat house, and talk with those girls again. Find out if they saw Linda (I want to see Linda! Push it away). Feel the backs of their head, see if they had the same lump.

As I drew a bath, the phone rang. It was Jenny, asking me to come meet her new boyfriend. I begged off, saying something about having a headache. I unplugged the phone, lit several candles and some incense, and slid my aching body into the hot sudsy water.

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I dozed in the tub for what seemed like hours. The beautiful flicker of the candle flames mesmerized me, the scent of patchouli calmed and soothed my battered nerves. I finally got out of the tub, serene. I was practicing Tai Chi, losing myself in the slow, graceful, flowing dance, when there was a knock at the door.

It was Jenny. I opened the door, happy that she was away from her captor, and we woofed at each other.

Shit. I slammed the door, bolted it. Ran into the back bedroom and shut that door. I could still hear a man's voice calling my name. What a virile, powerful voice. I'd do anything for a voice like that. I threw myself on the bed, covered my head with the pillow. Now he was completely drowned out, but nothing could drown out the growing desire from within, the knowledge that he was there, waiting to fill me. That his hard cock would slide into me so eagerly, easily, and that I would take him in and feel every inch of it.

I had to get out of here. Through the window, down the fire escape. It was my only chance. I threw the pillow away, looked down at myself. I was wearing only the robe I'd thrown on to answer the door. I let it drop, felt my hand slide into my crotch, moaned with the pleasure of it. A panicked voice, fading rapidly, said get dressed, go out the window. I looked out my window, my resolve dissipating. I was hyper-aware of every double entendre. I could GO DOWN the fire escape. I didn't have to let Him CUM in. I grabbed a t-shirt, pulled it over my head, and got lost in the feeling of the fabric against my hard nipples. I played with them a little, then went to open the door.

Jenny was on her knees, crying, begging to let her taste him. He had one hand on her forehead, the other wrapped in her hair, holding her head back from his crotch. When I opened the door in just my t-shirt, he was obviously pissed, but his face changed as he looked me over, starting at my long, tanned legs, resting a long while on my breasts, so obvious under my t-shirt, and finally following my long, dark hair to my beautiful hazel eyes. I reached behind, pulled my t-shirt taught against my legs, and lightly ran my free hand down my breasts, across my belly.