THE ADJUSTERS

54

Intermezzo: Cindy Caprese

Cynthia Barnes pushed her chair back from the table and leaned back, letting the California sun fall upon her face. It was one thing she had missed about the West Coast in her time in New England: the yearly sun, and its particular warmth.

She had been born Cynthia Caprese, but she called herself Cindy, and expected others to do so as well. She had been Cindy Caprese until less than six months earlier, after the events at Darnell University, the events that had left a body in the smoldering ruins of Daniel Malcolm’s apartment, a body that would subsequently be identified as that of Cindy Caprese. Barnes was her mother’s maiden name. She had refused to take any other.

She looked at the napkin on which she had been doodling, an intricate pattern of circles and squares that had emerged from her subconscious and now nagged at her memory. She shook her head, and took a sip of her drink. A Cranberry-Lime flavored Smirnoff Ice, her one weakness. She had discovered the drink upon arriving at the University of California in Los Angeles, during orientation. It was devilishly good.

She stared at the napkin again, as if it held the solution to the problem she had been fighting with since the previous night. Her project for molecular biology was going well, but she had hit a snag—a particularly thorny protein folding problem—that might have benefitted from talking it over with her lab partner. The partner in question seemed to live on a different circadian cycle, unfortunately, and probably was still sleeping despite it being two in the afternoon.

She picked up a new napkin and doodled some more, trying not to think, to merely focus on the pen gliding over the smooth material, letting her subconscious help her. It was a trick she had learned when she was younger: the best way to solve a problem sometimes was to stop thinking about the problem, to let your subconscious do the work. She had read that the idea went back to Aristotle, but she had never managed to track down the reference. Ancient literature tended to put her to sleep. She was happier with a scientific or mathematical text.

While her subconscious played with the possible three-dimensional foldings of her protein, she let her mind drift to where it usually drifted these days: Daniel Malcolm. Her not-a-boyfriend boyfriend. As happened whenever she thought of him, she felt a slight flush of arousal. She had long ago stopped questioning why she reacted that way to him. She had always done so, from the first day she had met him. Which was odd, because he was not really her type. He was good looking, granted, but she had been hit on by better looking men in her life, hotter men. No, he was nice. And she usually did not fall for nice. At least not that kind of nice. Dominance—raw dominance—turned her head something fierce.

Daniel was the odd man out. He was not dominant. Oh, he tried, because she had asked him to. But at a deep level, he viewed her as a friend and an equal. He respected her mind, trusted it. And she felt safe with him. Safer than she had ever felt with anyone before. Cindy figured that the root of her infatuation must lay there. How that explained why she reacted to him the way she generally reacted to dominant men remained a mystery, however.

Making a complicated situation even more complicated, Daniel was also engaged, and to a fantastic girl, Jennifer Hansen. That she was missing and that Daniel was slowly driving himself crazy missing her made a complicated situation explosive. And that was without even mentioning the sex slave stuff.

Back at Darnell University, both she and Jenn had been taken by boys from the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity and brainwashed into sex slaves with the help of technology provided by one Doctor Thaddeus Cargyle, believed to have been employed at some point by ADCorp, the corporation that had hired Daniel at the beginning of the summer.

When Cindy thought about it, and she thought about it frequently, she actually missed being a fuck toy for a bunch of immature horny frat boys. It had been a heady experience. The boys were in it for the thrill of fucking beautiful girls, and they had been neither violent nor dangerous. At least, that had been her experience. Jenn, however, had had a harder time of it—partly because she had been brainwashed into a sex toy by a slightly deranged brother for his own personal use, a brother that relished abusing and humiliating her. And after all of that he turned Jenn loose into the world, programmed to give herself away to man after man trying to find a satisfaction that only he could give her.

Missing her affected Daniel profoundly, and Cindy worried about him. He had grown darker these last several months, pulling away from society. As far as she could tell, he only really ever spoke to her and to Sam. She worried he might be sinking into a depression. And the thought brought back painful memories, memories that she worked hard at squashing down.

She was scheduled to talk him later that night, and she looked forward to it. Doubly so since Sam O’Neill, the private investigator that had saved her life back in North Alexandria and that was helping Daniel look for his fiancée, had told her about Calypso, a recent friend of Daniel who seemed to have been brainwashed and programmed with verbal triggers similar to those put in by Doctor Cargyle back at Darnell. She could not wait to get Daniel to talk about Calypso, or more accurately, force him to talk about her. He was so easy to fluster sometimes, something Cindy found incredibly charming.

She glanced down at her napkin, now filled with a pattern similar to the previous one, an arrangement of squares and circles intertwined and running into each other, a dense cross hatching that had broken through the napkin in places. She frowned, tilted her head, and then burst out laughing. It was the solution to her problem. Reading the squares as the alphas and the circles as the gammas, she had patterned the napkin with a potential folding for the protein she had been studying with her lab partner. It did not mean that it was the right folding, of course, but it gave her a starting point, a possibility that could be tested, something they did not have before.

“That’s what I like to see,” said the voice from her left. “A pretty girl happy about life.”

“Really?” Cindy smiled before turning to the male voice. “Has that line ever worked?”

The man grinned in response, and shrugged “Sometimes. What’s making you laugh anyway?” He looked somewhat older, with blonde hair, a nice Los Angeles tan, a relaxed look, sunglasses. He seemed friendly, with an easy smile.

“Pretty pictures always make me happy.”

“Well, we’re gonna have to make sure to keep you supplied with pretty pictures then.”

She smiled coyly. “That’d be sweet. I’d like that.”

“Mind if I sit down?”

“Depends. Are you gonna make me happy as well?”

“I’ll try my very best.”

“Then please.”

He sat down, and Cindy observed him surreptitiously as he took in everything: her looks—her hair, which while no longer blonde still clung to its blondness, her glasses giving her a mischievous air, her naughty smile—her short dress exposing too much leg, the Smirnoff Ice on the table, the doodles. She saw him peg her as one of those girls.

She did not mind. She had figured out a long time ago that being cute while also wicked smart was a problem for a great many men and not a few women, and that it made life so much easier to just appear to be a pretty airhead. It was an act, and she was good at it. It was also often amusing and always liberating.

“My name’s Bryan,” he said.

“Cindy.”

“Cindy. Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded towards her bottle. “Would you like another one?”

“It’s a bit early in the day for you to try to get me drunk, isn’t it?”

“The thought would never cross my mind,” he said, grinning.

“Right: never. I’m fine, thank you.”

“Well, I’m gonna get something.” He waves to the waitress, who takes his order of a Molson Dry.

“Molson Dry?”

“It’s Canadian. Can’t get it here, except this place has a stash for some reason.” He lowers his voice to a whisper and leans over. “I think the owner smuggles it from up north when he visits Vancouver.” He stated it as if he was imparting a great secret.

“Oh. And, well, is it any good?”

Bryan shrugged, then gave a wide grin that made him look like a little kid. “Not particularly. But it’s unique. And I like unique.” He gave Cindy a significant glance, one she had no problem deciphering. She felt herself redden slightly—not enough for him to notice, but she knew it was there. She liked him, she realized, almost surprised.

“So what are you doing here?” he asked.

“Just looking at pretty pictures.”

“What do you do? You’re not a student, are you?”

She nodded toward her napkins. “Oh, I doodle. And I take a few classes here and there.”

“Education’s important. What sort of classes?”

“You know, stuff.” She shrugged.

“Mmm… yes… those well-known UCLA stuff classes.”

“How about you? What do you do?”

“Me? I’m an artist.”

“I kind of expected you to say you were an actor.”

He laughed, and accepted his beer from the waitress, who did not linger as another customer was calling her. Bryan looked at her for a second. “Well, we are in LA, aren’t we? I’m pretty sure she is one, or aspiring to be. Crazy place. No, I’m not an actor. I tried some acting once, and I sucked at it so bad that I went completely the other way and ended up on the other side of the camera.”

“So you’re a filmmaker?” Cindy said and laughed. “Of course you are.”

He grinned, and nodded. “Bryan Seeker, filmmaker extraordinaire, at your service.” He extended his arms wide as if embracing the world.

“Anything I’ve seen?”

“I doubt it. Mostly shorts, a few longer pieces, all Art House stuff, all local.” He seemed unbothered by his lack of fame and recognition by the industry.

She tilted her head to look at him, silent. “I’m waiting for you to tell me that you have an eye for talent and that you can tell that I’d look great on film and—”

Bryan laughed, and shook his head before drinking his cold beer. “First you accuse me of trying to get you drunk, now this. I mean, I know my first line was terrible, but come on, give me a little credit. I do have some dignity.”

“Really? That’s disappointing.”

“Wait, what? Disappointing that I have some dignity? Or that I’m not asking you to audition for me? Would that have worked?”

“Depends—if you were actually looking for an actress, a cute young girl with a winning smile and a stunning body, and you didn’t ask me to audition, then yes, I’d be definitely disappointed. Insulted, even. How dare you, anyway?”

“Wait, what?”

Cindy grinned, and stood, picking up her napkin. “I do have to go now. Maybe I’ll catch you around, Bryan the Filmmaker.” She waved, and turned to leave.

“Wait, hold on. Do I get your phone number, at least? You know, in case… a role comes up?”

She turned to him, a smile on her face. After a moment’s thought, she picked up another napkin from the table and scribbled her phone number. “I don’t promise I’d… audition, you understand. But if you catch me on a good day, who knows what might happen…?”

She let the sentence in suspense and strode off.

She felt her eyes on her legs as her short skirt bounced with her steps, and she put in an extra wiggle as she walked away.

She was awfully turned on, all of a sudden.

* * *

“I’ve got a new prospect,” Bryan Seeker said into his cell phone. “Nice girl, great smile, petite, with an out-of-this-world body. Oh, and she’s a typical LA airhead.”

“Okay, you got my attention, buster. When do we see the goods?”

“Working on it.”

* * *

"Hey Cin.” Daniel’s voice came out of the computer speaker, his face moving on the screen with only a slight lag, which she automatically diagnosed as a side effect of the encryption algorithms they used. She made a mental note to examine them later.

“Hey Dan! You look good,” she said, her voice taking its natural upward lilt. She was happy—always was when she spoke to him—even though she was not entirely honest. He did not look good. He looked tired, his traits drawn. His nascent beard did not help, made him look older. “Though tired,” she added.

“It’s been a long week,” he said.

“I can imagine. Mister Dick brought me up to date.” Mister Dick was their code name for O’Neill. He did not know that.

“He did, did he?” Daniel ran a hand over his face, with such a clear why me? expression that Cindy simply had to burst out laughing. Her crystal clear giggles made even Daniel smile. “Okay, what’s so funny?”

“You are. You’re all like, oh, nice pretty sexy girl throws herself at my feet ready to do whatever the fuck I want, and you get all mopey and act like the world’s come crashing down on you.”

“I…” Daniel remained with his mouth open, gasping not unlike a fish, with an expression to match. He finally closed his mouth. “I don’t know what to say to that. It’s all kind of wrong.”

“So how are you feeling?”

Daniel ran his hand through his hair. Through the webcam, Cindy could see the bare wall and the bare apartment behind him. It looked, well, depressing. It could not be good for him. She wondered for a second whether she should send him some plants. Something to brighten up the place. Something that did not require much care.

“Okay, I guess,” he said. He sighed, then leaned back. He was on his couch. “I mean, you know.” He took a deep breath, then laughed softly to himself, humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m not doing great right now. I’m, well, sorta lonely, I think that’s the best way to say it.”

Cindy tried to lighten the moment. “I thought you had made a new friend? You know, the Nymph?”

“The Nymph? Oh, right. Well, that’s the thing right—I thought she was a friend, and all that, yeah. But now, with all of this…”

“How about you tell me your version of the story?”

And Daniel gave her his version, which was sensibly the same as O’Neill’s, although Daniel’s held a lot more emotional weight. When he was done, he looked up at her. “So, what do you think?”

Cindy’s hand had dipped down to her crotch and she was rubbing it playfully. “What I think? I think it’s as fucking hot as when Mister Dick told me the story the first time. You wouldn’t believe how wet I am.” She pressed her hand harder, and gave a little moan.

Daniel laughed. “Jeez Cin, someone sneezing would make you horny!”

“You will know, Mister Smart-Ass, that a good sneeze can be incredibly hot.”

Daniel shook his head. “Seriously. I’d love to know what you think.”

“Fine, but I do need to take care of this too. Hold on one second.” She reached under her bed and fished out her trusty dildo from what she called her naughty box. She removed her panties, leaving her clad only in her favorite oversized Minnie Mouse tee shirt. She spread her legs wide, her laptop between them, affording Daniel what she hoped was a impeccable view of her trimmed pussy. “There, much better. Where were we?” She stroked the rubber head of the dildo against her slit, slowly, getting it wet, teasing herself.

Daniel was torn between smiling and shaking his head. “I think you’re the only girl I know that can hold a serious deep conversation while diddling herself.”

“What can I say, I’m special that way.” She gave him her best smile, which turned into a moan as the very tip the dildo—Dan Junior—slipped into her wet hole.

“So, what do you think, then, before you lose the ability to speak?”

“What I think? Mmm. Well, frankly, after all you’ve seen, it feels like small potatoes, no?”

“I guess. I mean, I’m pretty sure two years ago I’d have freaked out. Now, not so much.”

“See, growth.” She let out another moan as she pressed the rubber shaft harder against her pussy. Part of her longed to slam it into her hard, another part of her loved the slow buildup. She wished someone else was in control, though, so that when it did slip into her it would come as a surprise.

“I’m not sure that qualifies as… growth,” Daniel said.

“Fine. Hedonistic adaptation, then.”

“Whatever! Yeah, so no freak out. And honestly, that’s the thing, it reminded me of… well…”

She could read his mind, it was not that difficult. “Doctor Spooky.” Code name for Doctor Cargyle.

“Yeah.”

“So a Doctor Spooky rather than a Dementor, then?” Code name for Specials. She thought it was funny. Daniel fought rolling his eyes every single time.

“Yeah. I don’t know why, but it doesn’t feel right for that.”

Daniel had sent her the report he had gotten from ADCorp about those Specials, those people that seemed to have developed the ability to influence women, those people whose job it was for Daniel to hunt down, and she had perused it with fascinated interest.

“I tend to agree with you,” she said, trying to remain focused even as her pussy screamed to be pounded. Not yet, she thought. “Mmm. So what do you think it means?”

“I don’t know. Every scenario I come up with makes no sense. Which in an odd way makes perfect sense.”

“Well, there’s an obvious starting point.”

“Oh?”

She nudged the head of the dildo against her slit, which was drenched by now, and almost, almost sank it in, but resisted. She could feel her whole body tremble with the arousal. Fuck, Dan, why aren’t you here to pound me like the little slut I am?

“Cin? Earth to Cin.”

“Mmm… Sorry. Just getting… a bit distracted here… Right… where to start. Blood.”

“Blood?”

Cindy nodded, her eyes closing. She was running the head of the dildo around her hard clitoris, sending electric waves up and down her back. She knew she was soaking her bed, but did not care.

“Blood. We get a blood sample from the Nymph, and test it. I’ve got a few blood samples of my own, from… college, and we can compare them. If you can get me some blood sample from a Dementor’s victim, then I can compare that too. It might provide a clue to what’s going on.”

“That’s a great idea! You’re a genius, Cin.”

“But I’m also a horny little slut, right?”

Daniel grinned. “Oh, there’s absolutely no doubt about it. None whatsoever.”

Cindy moaned again as she rubbed the side of the dildo harder against her pussy lips. One hand slipped underneath her oversized tee shirt and grasped a breast, as if just remembering that they existed and that they were sensitive and that she came harder when they were stroked and handled.

“I mean,” continued Daniel, knowing her well, seeing where she was, where she was going, and how she could get there, “you must be the dirtiest little slut I’ve ever met, Cin. Just look at you, with your cute legs, your cute ass, that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Cindy moaned louder, and leaned back on her back, her legs spread wide. He was indulging her, and she was eating it up like warm strawberry shortcake.

“You say that even a sneeze can be hot? Fuck, Cin, a guy just has to breathe next to you sometime and there you are, spreading your legs wide and begging him to come and pound you into submission!”

Now? her pussy asked, drooling all over the hard rubber shaft. Now?

Not yet. She toyed with her own desire. Not yet… Her head was spinning, her breathing ragged, and a small part of her worried that she might start hyperventilating. The rest of her did not care one iota.

“Cin! CIN! Look at me.” Daniel was trying to get her attention from the laptop screen, and with effort she raised her head and she stared at the face of the man she had fallen for, hard. She wished he was here, right there with her, his hand on the dildo, to shove it deep inside her hungry steamy cunt, to fuck her well and good and deep—

“Cin! Do it. NOW!”

He had read her mind.

He knew her too well.

Without breathing, without thinking, she shoved Daniel Junior into her gushing pussy, and all of her nerve endings exploded at once.

She came, clenching around the hardened rubber with long rhythmic strokes.

She almost kicked the laptop off the bed.

She did not know if she screamed.

She did not care.

She came, long and hard.

She floated back down slowly, her whole nervous system vibrating with the memory of her pleasure. Her sweat stuck her hair to her skin, the feel of the shorter hair still a surprising sensation.

“That was… amazing,” she said in a slow, lazy voice.

“It certainly looked that way.” Daniel grinned. “And pretty hot to watch to boot, I have to say.”

Cindy felt herself blush, something she never did except when she was in that gentle post-coital limbo. To distract herself, and to distract Daniel, she brought the dildo up to her lips, and started slowly licking and sucking it. She felt deliciously dirty in the darkness of her bedroom. And she loved to taste herself.

Daniel, still smiling, stared at her. No boy could resist a pretty girl sucking cock, whether it was a real one or not.

Her eyes trained on him, the dildo playing on her lips, she curled up on the bed and brought the laptop to her. “I miss you,” she said, simply.

“Ah! You miss a thick cock inside you is more like.”

She gave a little smile. “Mayyybe.”

“I'll see if I can't swing by LA next time we've got an assignment out West.”

“That'd be really nice.”

They remained silent for a while, enjoying each other's presence. And then Cindy realized she must have had a pensive expression on her face because Daniel asked, “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You made a face, like you wanted to ask something.”

“It's nothing...”

“I did tell you everything about C... The Nymph already.”

“No. No, it's not that. It's just... Well, how... Would you mind terribly if I went on a date?”

Daniel looked at her incredulously before bursting out laughing, and Cindy did not know whether she should feel happy that she had cheered him up, or miffed that he might be mocking her.

“Sorry,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “Did you just seriously ask me for permission to go on a date, after you listened to me explain in terribly explicit details how I got it on with another girl?”

“We'll, that's different...”

“It's not different, it's fucked up that's what it is. But I'm in no place right now to tell you what you can or can't do. You're your own person, Cin. And what we have you and I, it's… well, it's...”

“Complicated?”

“Cliché, but true.”

“So you wouldn’t mind, then?”

Daniel took a moment to respond, and Cindy had the distinct impression that he did it precisely to signify to her that what he said had the weight of thoughtfulness behind it. “No, I don’t mind. Are we still going to be friends afterward?”

“Who’s a cliché now?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, of course, we’re still going to be friends afterward. You’ll even get to fuck me raw whenever you want too, if you ever get it in your sweet little old mind to come and visit me.”

“And speaking of which,” Daniel responded without missing a beat, “are you going to bring your little medallion, on that date of yours?”

Daniel’s little smile said it all, and Cindy for the second time of the evening found herself wanting to blush. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, whatever you do, please be careful.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” She meant it lightly, but there was a pang of disturbance inside that she hoped Daniel did not pick up on.

They exchanged a few more banalities, but Cindy was feeling herself slip away, and they said their good-nights and hung up They did not talk every night—maybe twice a week, less if it was a particularly busy time. But to a tee Cindy orgasmed on every single one of those occasions. She did it for herself, of course—she loved coming, always had—but also because Daniel seemed to get a kick out of it, though he rarely commented upon it.

Although now that he had that new floozie, who knew?

The thought of that girl, Calypso, the Nymph, just primed to obey whatever orders Daniel gave her, ripe for use and abuse, to be a sexual satisfaction toy, threatened to get Cindy hot all over again. It made her think back to those fraternity days at Darnell.

In the common area of their apartment, she ran into her roommate, Maura. The shapely brunette—she was larger than Cindy, taller and more voluptuous, with those large breasts and that deep olive skin that hinted at a Greek or Middle-Eastern origin—was sitting on the couch watching television.

“Had fun with your boyfriend?” asked Maura, not looking up from her reality show.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” responded Cindy, going to the kitchen.

“Sounded like a boyfriend to me,” came the response.

Cindy did not have a handle on her roommate yet. The girl had advertised for a room in her apartment and Cindy had snatched it up, liking both the location and the layout, but she had not managed to make a connection with the somewhat temperamental girl.

“Were you eavesdropping again, Maura?” Cindy teased as she poured herself a glass of juice.

“Who needs to eavesdrop when you’re loud enough to tear down walls?”

“Oh. I… I wasn’t that loud, was I?”

“Did you ever hear of the Trumpets of Jericho?” After a moment, Maura finally looked up and gave a little smile that in the glow of the television screen managed to make her look cruel rather than friendly. “Not this time, no.” The girl tilted her head and looked at Cindy curiously. “What’s that medallion thing, though?”

Cindy shook her head and headed back to her bedroom, leaving Maura to her nosiness.

* * *

It was a week to the day before Cindy ran into Bryan Seeker again.

She was sitting at the same table at the same bar with the nice courtyard, and she must have had an inkling that this would happen because she had stuffed her work into her bag underneath the table—an assignment for a biochemistry class due in two days—and pulled out a copy of People magazine. There was nothing of particular interest to her within its pages, though she did find the various shenanigans involving the Kardashians endlessly fascinating, for reasons that were not entirely clear to her.

“Keeping up with your education, I see.”

She heard his voice from behind her, and she smiled as she felt him look over her shoulder.

Without turning around, she pointed at a picture of a random starlet splashed over the left page, in a bikini that did little to hide a perfect model’s body. “You like her?”

“As a singer, or as eye candy?”

“Either.”

“She’s got a pretty good voice.”

Bryan circled the table and sat in front of her, putting a hand on the back of his chair for a second and looking at her questioningly before pulling it out.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said.

“I did. You said I could answer either.”

“Why did you answer that one?”

“After the crushing that I experienced last time we chatted, I didn’t want to chance anything. You’re pretty sharp, Cindy.”

“I do okay. And you didn’t get crushed. If I wanted you to feel crushed, you’d feel crushed.”

“Them fightin’ words!”

Cindy merely let out a little giggle but she shifted her head and tossed her hair back, something that always caught men’s eyes. It worked as well as ever.

“You never called me,” she said.

“I figured I’d see you in person, improve my chances.”

“Oh, you think that highly of your charm?”

“No, but I think highly of the charm of these.” He lifted up a pair of tickets.

“What are they?”

“Two tickets for the premiere of Thy Lovely Monsoon, the new film by Jeremy Pushkin.”

“And I’m supposed to know this man?”

“What? You do not know Jeremy Pushkin, who has penned such intemporal masterpieces as Farewell my Pretty Dove, High Above Desire, and The Good, the Bad, and the Sultry?”

“Is intemporal a word?”

“Shakespeare used to invent words all the time. What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”

“What does that saying mean anyway?”

“What?… I don’t know. You’re trying to confuse me—”

“Actually, I seem to be succeeding.”

Bryan looked at her with a strange look in his eyes. “Who are you?”

“I think I’m the girl that you’re trying to invite to go see a movie that may or may not be rather risqué.”

“How does a girl like you know a word like risqué?”

Cindy grinned and lifted her magazine.

Bryan shook his head. “Okay, wow. This conversation went sideways fast. But yes, I guess you nailed it: I’m asking you to go to the premiere with me, and yes, Jeremy tends to enjoy putting some amount of sensuality in his films.”

“When is it?”

“This Friday at eight. The Lighthouse Cinema. Perhaps we can grab some dinner beforehand?”

“I’m not sure I can do dinner, but the movies sounds like a wonderful way to spend a Friday night.”

“Looks like it’s a date, then.” Bryan was smiling broadly, his face relaxed and attractive.

Cindy stood, grabbing her bag from beneath the table. “How about you text me where I can meet you and at what time? I should be free from seven on.”

She turned, taking advantage of it to let her short skirt fly up and expose a long expanse of thigh, a move she had been practicing ever since she discovered that her body made boys and men react.

“Huh, Cindy,” he said, and she turned to him. “It’s sort of a formal affair, so something elegant might be expected.”

Cindy smiled as broadly as Bryan had smiled earlier. “Well, I’m going to have to go shopping, then, aren’t I? Gosh darn.” She made a face, and Bryan expectedly laughed.

And his eyes were all over her body again as she walked away.

* * *

“That’s what you’re wearing to your date?” asked Maura when Cindy stepped out of her room that Friday evening.

“Why? Not elegant enough for a premiere?”

Maura was once again sitting on the couch in front of the television screen, this time playing some first-person shooter game with her boyfriend Jacob, who was trying his hardest not to stare at Cindy, but failing miserably. Cindy chuckled inside, while at the same time hoping that she would not cause trouble in their relationship. She had no desire to cause problems for poor Jacob, and generally behaved very properly around him—she even put on sweat pants when he showed up in the evenings instead of going about with her legs bare in only a tee shirt or a short nightie.

“I’m not sure elegance is the issue here,” said Maura. She cast a suspicious glance toward her boyfriend, who was conspicuously controlling his avatar on the screen shooting at some rebels.

Cindy could not resist a little bit of teasing, just to put herself in the proper mood for the evening. “Well, what do you think, Jacob? Sometimes it’s good to get a man’s opinion.” She turned in place, slowly, her arms spread a little bit, showing off her petite body snuggled tight into a short green dress that left little to the imagination, and brought everyone’s attention to what Cindy considered her best features, her legs and her ass. On her feet she wore her highest pumps, which accented her legs to an extent that might have been considered criminal in several states.

Jacob, without looking up, just mumbled a “You look nice” that was pitiful enough that even Maura did not have it in her heart to get upset at him. She did punch him in the arm anyway, which seemed to cause his game avatar to die in a hail of bullets.

Cindy left them to their evening, and went down to meet Bryan at the latest frozen yogurt place to open within a radius of two blocks from her apartment. He was waiting for her at the curb, a small-sized cantaloup yogurt sprinkled with peanuts.

When Bryan—looking wonderful in a sports jacket and tight pair of slacks—saw her, his reaction was her first reward of the night. He did not drop his yogurt container, but he might as well have, for it was forgotten for the remainder of the night.

“Wow! You look…” He could not find a suitable word.

“Sexy?”

“I was going with awesome, but yeah, sexy will do too.”

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. You clean up nice, Mister Filmmaker.”

“Actually, I’m feeling pretty underdressed right now.”

“Not quite underdressed enough,” she said, a gleam in her eyes, and before Bryan could process her meaning, she smiled. “Shall we?”

Bryan extended his arm. “Let’s shall.”

The theater was close, and the drive took no time. Cindy savored how Bryan, throughout his chit chat about what he knew of the movie and the people involved in it, could not resist sneaking glances at her legs, something she encouraged by letting her dress, already short, ride up almost to the point where her panties would show, but not quite.

Leaving his car with a value, who was professional enough not to ogle Cindy too openly, Bryan gave Cindy his arm and they walked into the theater, Bryan greeting people here and there, Cindy smiling happily as her best charming self.

“Bryan! So good of you to come.” A husky man approached Bryan and Cindy with open arms. He stank of cologne.

“Not at all, Gee. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“And who’s this delightful creature and why is she at the arm of a scuzzball like you?”

“Cindy, this charming gentlemen here is Georgios Pangalos, supreme pain in the ass and also the producer of tonight’s movie. Georgios, this is Cindy, the giggling doodle artist.”

“Nice to meet you, Cindy,” Georgios said genially. “You are a sight for sore eyes.” He stepped forward and hugged her, and Cindy let him do it. She glanced at Bryan, who shrugged helplessly.

Georgios Pangalos was what Cindy might have pictured if one had told her sleazy Hollywood producer. She knew she was being unfair, but she could not help it. Georgios must have been good looking at some point—thirty years and seventy pounds earlier. Now he looked like he was trying too hard to compete with the beautiful young men that suffused Los Angeles—artificial tan, hair implants, clothes that might have looked good on a younger toned body like Bryan’s but did nothing on a husky frame.

The way he openly leered at her would have been revolting to anyone. She did not mind so much—she was used to being looked at as an object of desire, and even got a thrill from being made to feel like a toy, like eye candy, like a piece of meat about to be devoured—but from Georgios is felt different. She could not understand why.

“Georgios here is also co-producer of Kittens’ Den, that—”

“The TV series?” Cindy asked.

“The one and only,” Georgios replied, looking pleased with himself. “Best show on TV, that one. Brings in fantastic money. And the chicks are just…” he kissed his fingers with a smacking noise to show his appreciation, “delicious. You know, doll, if you want, I can put in a good word, and maybe we can get you a little cameo in an episode. You’d make a great Kitten.” Georgios managed to make the word sound so much dirtier than it already was.

After moving on from the producer, whose eyes were glued to Cindy’s thighs, Bryan leaned toward her. “I’m sorry about … He’s a bit of a…”

“A bit of a lecher?”

“Lecher. Right.” He looked at her oddly for a second, and she flashed him her most blinding smile and a few blinks of her eyelashes until he shook his head. “Well, yeah, he is. He’s going through his fourth divorce, and it’s left him a bit… prone to be distracted by the fairer sex.”

“He was fucking me with his eyes. I feel slimy now.”

“Well, huh… I don’t know what…”

“Are you going to wash it off me?” Cindy gave him an innocent smile.

Bryan swallowed. “If you wish.”

“I do.”

Thy Lovely Monsoon was more than a little risqué. It was downright a softcore movie, with perhaps a touch more artistic dexterity than a typical Cinemax skin flick. Cindy could predict without any difficulty the entire plot after seeing the two main characters. But the photography was eye-catching, and the sex scenes were definitely hot.

Cindy relaxed, letting her mind wander during the boring expositions—she reviewed her anatomy notes in her head—and simply enjoyed sitting down near a man that she found attractive. She kept herself distracted by running her hand up and down his thigh, and Bryan kept himself distracted by running his hand up and down hers. His hand on her naked skin felt an order of magnitude better than her hand on his slacks, but she did not care. She did have to resist reaching up and grabbing his crotch. He seemed to fight to keep from sneaking his fingers into her rapidly flooding panties. Despite her best attempts at moving her hips subtly, he did not reach for her pussy, and she was both maddened and disappointed that he did not.

After the movie, and after meeting the director—Jeremy Pushkin was an energetic old man, complete with wild gray hair and a maniacal demeanor that utterly charmed Cindy—and running into Georgios Pangalos again, who because he had spent nearly two hours watching pretty people fucking on a large screen could barely keep from reaching out and grabbing Cindy’s ass, Bryan offered Cindy a ride back to her apartment.

Cindy toyed with the idea of asking him to come up, but thought of Maura and Jacob. She almost asked him to go back to his place, but Bryan did not seem to be suggesting it, and since she could not guess why, she did not press the issue. She was not in college anymore. This was a real city, with real people, and there were more intricacies to dealing with men.

He did reach over and kissed when he dropped her off, and the kiss quickly turned passionate. In the parking lot of her building, their tongues were dueling, and their hands were all over each other’s bodies. Cindy felt the toned muscles underneath Bryan’s shirt, and simply drank in the feeling of his hands on the bare skin of her thighs. She gasped when he kissed her breasts through her dress, trying to grasp a nipple through the material with his lips. She gasped even more when he pushed his hands underneath her dress and pressed his fingers against her pussy through her thin panties.

He was forceful, and she soaked it up. She wanted him. She was so horny she thought she would explode. She wanted him to grope her, to tell her what to do, to grab her head and pull it down to his crotch and make her suck his cock, make her please him with her mouth, her tongue, her throat. She wanted him to explode all over her, head up back to her room with his cum soaking through her skin and dripping down her breasts. She wondered what Maura and Jacob would think, and their reaction sent a thrill up her body.

Bryan wished her a good night, and left her horny and unsatisfied.

* * *

“You were right, she’s a sweet fucking piece of ass.”

“Told you. Don’t you trust me by now?” Bryan said in his cell phone.

“I’ll trust you when you quit being an asshole. So did you bang her yet?”

“No. It’s not quite time. When I do, though, she’s gonna open up like a flower.”

“Great, now he’s a fucking poet… Anyway, you think she’ll do it.”

“I got a hunch. Something about the way she moves, the way she talks, the way she looks at you when you state something. The girl’s easy. I think she’s got all that it takes to be a fine addition to our little menagerie.”

“Fuck you and your big words. I want to see her all dolled up and getting fucked three ways from Sunday by a pair of big ass cocks. With that face, and that body, she could be a star. Move over, Jesse Jane.”

“Jesse Jane is so five years ago.”

“Shut up, asshole. She’s got the tightest little pussy you never had a chance to sink your cock into.”

“Oh, I fucked Miss Jane. Remember, I directed Anal about Anal 3.”

“Wait, that was you? I thought it was Derek…”

“No, it was me. Man, you’re really a bastard, you know that.”

“I might be a bastard, but you need me, asshole.”

“I don’t need you. I need your money.”

“Same fucking thing. So you gonna have an audition clip for me soon? I’m thinking of lining her up for Too Cute for Porn 4.”

“Oh, she’ll be willing and ready. She’s cute, but it’s pretty empty between those ears.”

“Just the way we like it,” George Pangalos replied with a laugh. “And I wasn’t kidding either: I do want her for Kittens’ Den too.”

* * *

When Cindy made it back to her room, she was shaking with pent-up arousal. The fondling in Bryan’s car had worked her up good. If he was that good for a five minutes heavy petting session, she wondered how it would be when he fucked her. If he was as forceful in his actual love-making, she was in for a treat. She felt a shiver of anticipation at the thought.

But all of that was in the future. In the present, she had a hungry pussy to deal with. Daniel Junior would be worked hard tonight.

Her roommate Maura was in her bedroom, the door closed, and when she listened carefully Cindy heard little sounds and groans and whimpers from behind the thin door.

Everyone else's getting lucky tonight, looks like, she thought.

In her room, she stripped completely, the process taking longer than usual because she kept getting distracted and caressing herself, her breasts, her belly, her legs, avoiding her crotch because she knew that once she started touching herself there, she would not stop until she had come so many times her limbs would ache for days. She knew it in her bones. She missed those times when she was but a puppet to those frat boys, used as a toy but satisfied beyond all desires.

She grabbed her cell phone, and texted Daniel, careful to use the encrypted messaging app they had agreed to use for all of their interactions.

“Horny” was all that her text said.

The response arrived two minutes later. “When aren’t you?”

“Heartless bastard - I need you - get online?”

“Not a good time.”

“On assignment?”

There was a long pause. Cindy fidgeted, her hand wanting to stray and caress herself.

“No - watching a movie.” Another pause. “The Nymph.”

Cindy could not help it and grinned. This was getting better and better.

“Get online with her - I want to see.”

“See?”

“See - her - and you - you and her.”

“I don’t know, sounds like a bad idea.”

“F U - it’s a great idea - get online - I’m REALLY horny.”

“I don’t know.”

“PLEASE!!!”

A long pause. Cindy wondered what was happening. She pictured Daniel triggering Calypso, telling her stroke his cock, or to suck it, or to put on a show for him, to dance for him like a whore. The mental image made Cindy’s pussy cream further.

“PLEASE!!!” she wrote again.

“Ok - online.”

“Now.”

“Yes, now.”

“Not a question!”

She rushed and grabbed her laptop and opened it up, bringing it with her to the bed. She felt deliciously naughty. As she slid down onto her stomach, her nipples rubbed against the covers, taking her breath away momentarily.

It took three minutes for the software to load and for Daniel to respond to her connection request, three minutes during which she was fighting with all of her might the drive to touch herself.

When Daniel showed up in the window, she grinned, and kissed him through the screen. “Hey Dan!”

“Hey Cin. How are you?”

“Fucking horny! Out of my fucking mind horny!”

Daniel made a face, as if she had punched him in the stomach, and he pulled back a little bit to show that there was a girl sitting on the couch next to him, a beautiful brunette with high cheekbones and an easy smile. “Huh, Cin, this is Calypso, my… well… a friend.” Calypso reminded Cindy so much of Jenn that she refused to believe it was a coincidence.

Calypso, for her part, seemed amused by Cindy’s introduction and waved, and then laughed before putting a hand over her mouth and gave a sideway glance to Daniel. “Oh my gosh! She’s naked!”

Cindy grinned and raised her torso from the bed, exposing her breasts, swollen with her arousal. They were not large, but her nipples stood straight and hard and begged to be played with.

“Yeah, she does that,” Daniel said, resigned to the way in which this discussion would go.

“Yes, I do that,” said Cindy, still smiling. “Nice to meet you, Calypso.”

“So you’re a friend of Daniel’s?”

“We go way back,” Cindy said. That might have been a factual lie, but an emotional truth. She felt she had known Daniel forever.

“And you’re out of your fucking mind horny,” Calypso said. “You’re a dog,” she said to Daniel, who merely shrugged his shoulder, looking embarrassed. Cindy knew that she would see a blush spread over Daniel’s features were it not for the doused lighting on his end.

“So what’s up?” Daniel asked, to forestall further discussions.

“Just came back from a date.”

“Oh. And how did it go?”

“Nice. Went to see a movie. Porn, really. Pretty porn, but porn.”

“Ah. Thus the horniness.”

“Well, that, and the fact that we necked in his car when he dropped me off.”

“Just… necked?”

“Of course, what do you take me for? I don’t fuck around on the first date!”

“Right.. what happened, didn’t bring your medallion?”

“I’ll let you know that no, I didn’t.”

“Your restraint is admirable,” Daniel said.

“Medallion?” Calypso asked.

“It’s a long story,” Daniel said. “I’ll tell you later—well, if Cin doesn’t mind.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Cindy replied. “In fact, I can tell you now.” And she explained the role of the bronze medallion in her life. Calypso listened, and asked a few questions, but she was clearly not understanding the depth to which that medallion affected Cindy.

Cindy looked at Calypso through the screen, and then took a chance, remembering the description Daniel had given her. “Calypso,” she said. “Adjustment code C003.”

There was no reaction from Calypso that Cindy could notice. But Calypso also did not seem to find Cindy’s statement strange. In fact, it was as if Cindy had said nothing. Calypso just looked at her, and as silence stretched, she looked at Daniel, with a questioning frown. Daniel’s eyes widened, and he turned to Cindy. “Cin…? What are you doing?”

“Calypso,” Cindy repeated, a little bit louder. “Adjustment code C003.”

Again, it was as if Calypso had not heard a thing. Interesting, Cindy thought through her arousal.

Daniel looked from Cindy to Calypso and back, wondering what to do.

“Go ahead,” Cindy told him.

He understood, but it was almost with reluctance that he said the words. “Calypso, adjustment code C003.”

Cindy watched with interest as Calypso, on the screen, gave an almost imperceptible shudder, before turning to Daniel. It reminded her so much of the Delta Iota Kappa girls back at Darnell that it made her heart ache for a second, the feeling of freedom and lightness that came with complete surrender, with just letting one’s mind go and remain a pure body. As an aside, she wondered whether that was how those seeking enlightenment in Eastern religions experienced life.

She also felt her arousal spike in short order, at the reminder of that feeling of complete freedom that often came with being forced—ah! forced! right!—to perform sexually for some twisted perverted horny man-child.

She let a hand stray between her legs, and savored the waves of pleasure run through her body when she touched her drenched slit.

“Neat, huh?” Daniel said, and it was so unlike what he would say in that situation that Cindy was momentarily confused before she realized that he was playing a part for whatever surveillance might be going on right now in his apartment. This was him showing off his new toy to a friend.

She nodded, taking a second to form her words. “That’s incredible. And it seems specific to you—either your voice, or just that you’re there.”

Daniel nodded. After all, it made sense—you did not want any random Joe saying the trigger sentence and activating whatever programming had been implanted. Back at Darnell, Doctor Cargyle had made it so that the girls would check that anybody trying to trigger them wore a Delta Iota Kappa fraternity ring, which did not prevent abuses, but at least provided a first layer of protection. Programming the girl to respond to a specific voice was more elegant. Although Daniel had told her that the man at that party where he had learned about Calypso had also activated her, meaning that the girl might have been programmed to be activated by two specific people.

Which meant that the man must have been involved somehow. Unless Calypso was programmed to allow any man to trigger her, but not women. She would have to discuss this with Daniel further, set up a few experiments. Then again, he was certainly sharp enough to come to the same conclusions on his own.

Letting go, she addressed Daniel. “Tell her to do something.”

“What? Now? Here? With you? You’re nuts.”

“Oh come ON! I’m freakin’ going to explode here—and there’s that beautiful girl next to you willing to do whatever it is that you want her to do—just look at her, staring at you with those big brown eyes just waiting for you to grab her and take her and fuck her over and over again AND I WANT TO SEE IT!”

Daniel stared at her as if she had lost her mind, and maybe she had, but she did not care, for she was reaching under her bed to retrieve Daniel Junior. Daniel said nothing, did not move, as Calypso remained on the couch next to him, saying either nothing, her head low, looking at him from underneath her eyelids, her whole body language having changed, making it clear that she was but a subservient creature, that Daniel was all and that she was nothing. Calypso merely waited for Daniel to ask her—not, to order her—to do something.

The submissive setting. Cindy had not chosen it randomly.

“Cin, I don’t know—”

“Tell her to do something.”

“What?”

“Tell her to suck your cock.”

“Cin—”

“Please,” she said, doing her best doe eyes at him, before sliding the rubber shaft between her lips and sucking on it softly, making the loud slurpy sounds she knew all men loved to hear.

Even Calypso looked at her, an unreadable expression in her eyes, waiting to see what would happen, waiting to see what her master—for that had to be how Calypso thought of it—would want her to do, paying attention to the power play around her, to know how best to serve him.

“Cin, this is a bad idea,” Daniel continued, shaking his head, refusing to look at the brunette next to him. He also knew full well what adjustment code Cindy had used.

“Come on,” Cindy said, rubbing the rubber shaft over her breasts, enticingly. “Tell her to suck your cock. Or better! Oh yes! Better!—tell her to listen to me!”

“Listen to you?”

Cindy smiled a sly smile. “That’s right. Tell her to listen to me as if I was you, to obey me like she’d obey you. And be sharp about it.”

“Cin—”

Cindy stared at him, her eyes shining, her mouth twisted into a smile. She was running the rubber shaft on her lower lip, teasingly. “Come on, Dan. I’ll make it so good for you. It’ll be like I’m right there, next to you, your very own little pussy doll.”

Daniel shook his head, but she could see the expression in his eyes that said he was hearing her, and was in fact tempted.

“Think of it as a science project,” she said. Which was not entirely false: she did want to gather data and understand what had been done to Calypso.

When Daniel sighed, she knew she had him, and she tried her hardest not to gloat. Maybe it wasn’t getting fucked by Bryan, and definitely not getting fucked by Daniel, but it was a good approximation.

“Cal,” he said, turning to the brunette, who turned her head toward him when he spoke but did not raise her eyes to look at him. Until he asked her to—no, told her to. “Look at me.” Cindy wondered whether he had tried the submissive programming already, because his tone of voice had changed, taking a snapping quality that made Cindy shiver in response despite the fact that he was not talking to her. She became even wetter.

Calypso looked up at him. “Like this?” she asked, her voice small, almost shy.

“Cal, listen to me.” His voice was harsh, demanding. “You see the girl on the screen there? She’s my friend, and you will listen to her like you listen to me, got it? You will do what she says and obey her readily, okay? If you don’t, then I will have to punish you.”

At the mention of punishment, Calypso trembled, and she nodded her head in acknowledgment of what Daniel had said. She mumbled something under her breath.

“Don’t tell me, tell her,” Daniel said.

Calypso turned to the screen, and looking down, she said softly. “I’ll do whatever you say, Mistress.”

Even though Cindy had no dominating bone in her body, the way Calypso said it made it so easily relatable, made it so easy to imagine being in her place, offering herself to someone else for use and abuse, that it elicited a moan from her.

She took a second to recover before talking. “Well then, Calypso, how about you kneel down in front of my boyfriend, fish his cock out of his pants, and suck him, nice and hard? Can you do that, princess? Can you give him the sloppiest noisiest blow job you’ve ever given?”

Daniel gave her a frown when he heard her call him her boyfriend, but she winked at him before watching Calypso kneel in front of him and pull down his shorts. Cindy wished she had a better view—all she could see was the back of Calypso’s head, her dark hair cascading down, hiding all the action.

Daniel was staring at Cindy and mouthed a clear “You’re crazy!” before closing his eyes and groaning as the sound of Calypso slurping down on his cock came through perfectly clear from the laptop. It was as if Cindy was right there with them, and imagining she was there, kneeling next to Calypso between Daniel’s legs, both of them sucking on his cock one after the other, passing it back and forth, saliva connecting both their mouths and the tip of his shaft into a triangle of lust, was too much.

She started sucking on her rubber shaft, in time with Calypso’s loud ministrations, her eyes fixed on Daniel, on Calypso’s bobbing head, her pussy twingeing in yearning.

“Imagine it’s me, Dan,” she said, catching his eyes. “It’s me there on my knees, sucking that beautiful cock of yours, taking you deep, slobbering all over it, over and over again like a good little girl. Tell me I’m a good little girl, Dan. Tell me you like it when I take you all the way down my throat, all the way in.” She pressed the rubber shaft into her mouth and choked on it, her pussy contracting in sympathy. She resisted the impulse to touch herself between her legs—waiting for Daniel, waiting for her master to tell her to do it.

Daniel smiled—seeming to relax for a second, to accept what was happening—and shook his head. “You’re nuts.”

“Nuts about you. Now go on, grab my hair, and fuck my face—fuck my face like you mean it. Go on!”

He put his hands on Calypso’s head, and Cindy could see that he did not actually press on it—he was too nice for that—but Calypso, who had to be listening, processing, reacting, took it as a gesture to go deeper and the noises she made became louder and more forceful.

Daniel gasped and tilted his head back, and Cindy, her own mouth busily matching Calypso’s rhythm, was at once torn with envy and aroused beyond words.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Dan. You know how I am,” she continued, running the rubber shaft over her breasts, teasing her nipples. “I’m very obedient. You want to keep on fucking my mouth? Coming deep inside me and watch me swallow it all, or maybe spurt all over my face, coating me up? Or do you want to come all over my titties?” With a hand she squeezed one of her breasts and had to clench her thighs together to provide some relief. She was so close to coming it was maddening. “Tell me what you want, Dan—tell me how I can please you. I’ll be your good little slut.”

Daniel looked at her, looked down at Calypso, then back at Cindy. He was willing to play along with her games, and she only loved him more for it.

With a small smile, he nodded, having made a decision. “I want to fuck you.” Cindy felt a stab of pure pleasure—Daniel was so rarely crass that when he was it made it all the better.

“Tell me how you want to fuck me,” she said, breathless.

His smile turned into a grin. “I want to see you on your hands and knees, legs apart, with your tight ass high up in the air, and your face down on the ground, begging me to take you hard.”

Cindy could not resist a groan and almost dropped the rubber shaft.

She got on her hands and knees, as ordered, and made sure that her ass was up in the air facing the laptop. Looking back, she could see that Calypso, not stupid by any stretch of the imagination, followed her orders as well, and went down on the floor.

Daniel reached over and shifted his own laptop so Cindy could see Calypso adopting the same position, her impossibly tight ass fully exposed, begging for abuse.

“Take me, Dan,” Cindy said, her voice hoarse. “Take me like the little bitch in heat I am. I’m all yours, all of me, all for you. Please Dan, fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

In counterpoint, she heard Calypso through the laptop begging on her own end. “Please, master! Please stuff your hard cock deep in my cunt, stuff it hard, stuff it so fucking hard I’ll choke on my own cries! Please, master! Fuck my cunt! Fuck my ass! Punish me for a being a teasing little slut! Please! PLEASE! OOOHH!”

The yell of pleasure from Calypso came out as Daniel knelt behind her and started fucking her after sliding his cock inside her. Cindy’s grip tightened on Daniel Junior and after giving it a last sloppy lick thrust it hard into her own pussy and adding her own cries to Calypso’s as she started fucking herself with it.

“Please, Dan—please fuck me harder!” Cindy groaned as she pounded the dildo in and out, her hips twisting under the assault, her ass shaking.

“Please, master, harder!” Calypso growled through the laptop, her voice hiccupping from Daniel’s thrusts. The brunette looked beautiful presenting her ass to her man, and Cindy wished she were in her place so hard that she wanted to scream out in frustration.

“Harder, Dan! Make it hurt! Pound your bitch as hard as you can!”

Daniel turned his head toward the camera with a slightly worried frown, but Calypso, like the good obedient slave she was acting as—although it was not acting, Cindy knew: she was in fact, at the present moment, a bona fide slave—added her voice to Cindy’s: “Please, master! Fuck you little piece of ass hard! Hurt me, master! Hurt me! AH!”

Daniel, lost in the pleasure of the moment, took Calypso to her word and slapped her playfully, and it sent Calypso into a paroxysm of groans and moans.

Cindy joined her, thrusting the rubber shaft in and out of her pussy so hard she figured it might catch fire, as she used two fingers of her other hand to play with her clitoris. She felt her orgasm approaching, none too subtly. Calypso, if her noises were any indication, was also not far behind.

“Come on your little slut’s back, Dan,” Cindy growled. “Soak her in cum! Come on, Dan! All over her back and her ass!”

Daniel himself must have been close as well, for it took but three thrusts before he pulled out his beautiful cock and spurted all over Calypso’s back. The sight of it sent Cindy over the edge, and she embarked in a series of climaxes that soon had her folded into a fetal position on her bed, hand between her thighs, rubber shaft sticking out of her gently pulsating pussy. She was drenched in sweat, and happier than she had been in a long time.

Calypso had come too, although Cindy had been too distracted to notice what had sent her over the edge. Perhaps it was the sperm hitting her skin, baptizing her like the submissive slut she was. Cindy wished she could be there so that Daniel could order her to lick up his semen from Calypso’s back.

Daniel, looking tired but content, wished Cindy a good night, and she mumbled something appropriate.

As Cindy, drowsy from her climaxes, closed her laptop and slipped it under her bed before turning over for the night, she did not notice that her door, which had been ajar, was closing noiselessly.

Cindy fell asleep with two thoughts on her mind: she was envious of Calypso, and she would indeed bring her medallion with her on her next date with Bryan.

* * *

“Hello, Bryan Seeker.”

“Bryan, Cindy here.”

“Cindy?”

“You know, Giggling Artist Cindy.”

“I think we need to upgrade your nickname to Astonishing Cindy. Or Hot Legs Cindy.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe a little bit. I take it from your phone call that you did not hate the premiere.”

“The premiere was okay. I like the post-movie entertainment a bit better though, short as it was.”

“Be still my heart,” Bryan replied, laughing. “What can I do for you today, then?”

“I was thinking that maybe you might like to get some dinner with me this week. Spend some time together.”

“That would be wonderful. Where and when?”

“No constraints?”

“Not for you.”

“How’s Saturday night?”

“Sounds good. Listen, I’m shooting a movie up in the San Gabriel Mountains. How about you drive up to see me Saturday afternoon, and we’ll grab some dinner there? It’s very pretty, if you’ve never seen.”

“Wow. Sounds super cool. I’m in.”

“Great. I’ll text you the coordinates. Can’t wait.”

* * *

Saturday night, Cindy drove for the mountains. She had dressed somewhat more relaxedly than for the movie premiere, a simple sundress that was still almost obscenely short, and a pair of cork wedge sandals that gave her a bit of elevation. The spaghetti straps of the dress looked flimsy, giving a fleeting impression that one could just pull on the hem of the dress and the straps would just snap, exposing Cindy’s petite body to everyone’s lusty gaze.

Or at least, that was how Cindy thought of it.

She made it to the restaurant whose address Bryan had texted her five minutes early, and sat in the car, pulling out the bronze medallion with its leather string from her purse, and tossed it lightly from one hand to the other. Embossed on it was her name, Cindy.

She thought back to what she had told Calypso when they chatter, that when someone wore the medallion, she was compelled to obey them. She wondered how Calypso had interpreted that statement, whether she thought that Cindy considered it a game, or a dare, or just a kinky thing that she did to get off.

If she were completely honest with herself, Cindy would admit that she did not actually know. She had received the medallion when she was part of the Delta Iota Kappa harem. She was one of the so-called DIK girls, those girls that the fraternity programmed to serve as on-call sex toys, and that sometimes served as favors to parties that the fraternity sponsored. For that one particular party she and others had received some special programming to respond to these medallions—every medallion bore the name a girl, and when someone wore a medallion around their neck, the girl to whom the medallion belonged was compelled to obey them.

The effect lasted for as long as the girls were triggered, but for Cindy, things were different. Or maybe they were different for other girls too, and Cindy never found out. She had developed an immunity to the programming—she discovered she was compelled by her programming any longer, though she went along with the fraternity’s wishes because she enjoyed the sex.

It went deeper than that. She enjoyed the sex because while she was immune to the programming, it still had an effect on her. For Cindy had a problem: she could not have penetrative sex. It was like a block she had—she freaked out when it happened, always had. She had had one boyfriend, a long time ago, one boyfriend could plow through those internal barriers because he was simply so dominant that she could not resist him. She was putty in his hands, sexy, filthy, perverted putty. And no one else since had managed to break through those barriers.

When Cindy discovered that, even though the programming that the fraternity had imposed on her did not compel her anymore, her internal barriers still lowered and she could enjoy sex fully, she was ecstatic. The brothers were getting off on using her as a sex toy, and she enjoyed the freedom to be as sexual as she could and as submissive as she could to its fullest. She was not compeller; she simply and naturally followed the instructions of the brothers using her.

The odd thing was the medallion. It had retained its power to lower her barriers, even though there was no one around to trigger her any longer, even though it was not supposed to affect her. She did not know why. When she put that medallion around someone’s neck, it was as if her mind opened up, and she could be free—free to play, free to fuck, free to be the fully sexual being she craved to be. She turned into—using Daniel’s words—a complete submissive no-boundaries slut.

She loved it, of course.

And tonight, she reflected, if Bryan played his cards right, he would benefit big time.

Looking up, she saw the aforementioned walk up the front door of the restaurant, looking dashing yet relaxed in a sports suit, at some level looking the part of the independent-film director on his way to make a name for himself after a day of shooting and hoping to wind down with a hot sexy girl.

She gave him ten minutes, and then followed him inside.

Dinner was wonderful. The restaurant was elegant yet approachable, spirited yet subdued, crowded yet quiet. The waitstaff was friendly, and the food was delicious. The company, as far as Cindy was concerned, was not bad either.

Bryan delighted her with tales from the shoot he had been running for the past week, a set of scenes involving a group of friends spending their last days of sowing oats before their draft went into effect and they had to report in to be trained and then sent off to Vietnam as cannon fodder.

Cindy was not sure that she agreed with many of the political implications of Bryan’s stance over the background of the tale he was telling in his movie, but she kept her critique to herself. She played the bimbo, the way she had always done, the way she knew how to do. None of it was important. She did appreciate leaving behind the headaches of trying to figure out the tri-dimensional structure of yet another protein for the night.

Bryan regaled her with more anecdotes from his directing days, and she listened with genuine interest. She asked the obvious questions, with several less obvious questions that she naturally inserted into the conversation building up to them via innocuous queries that brought Bryan around to telling her what she wanted to know.

That was how she learned that he had spent time in a band before moving into films, and that he had been serious in his commitment—he played bass guitar, and modeled himself after Steve Harris—but the band had floundered due to increasing drug abuse by two of the band members, and the band disintegrated. Bryan had been heartbroken, and while he put on a good face, Cindy picked up on the fact that he was still hurting, even nine years later. And that endeared him to her more than anything else he said.

She did like Bryan’s reaction when she pressed her legs against his underneath the table and ran her foot up the side of his leg, and she loved that he took it in stride and simply gave her a knowing smile, one that implicitly told her to keep going, and the approval and the way it was delivered made her even hotter.

When they had finished their desert—Cindy indulged with a peanut and marshmallow ice cream concoction—Bryan invited Cindy back to the cabin he was renting out for the duration of the shoot.

“Sounds like the kind of place where you will have your wily ways with me,” Cindy said, batting her eyelashes.

“Do you think so low of me still?” Bryan replied, theatrically raising his eyebrows and extending his arms, as if to implore the forgiveness of the heavens.

Cindy took a step towards him and enlaced him. “What makes you think I’d consider that a low thing?” She pulled him down to her and kissed him.

When they disengaged after a few minutes, they were both breathing hard. “Wow,” Bryan said.

“Yeah.”

“So are you—”

“I’ll be right behind you. Don’t drive too fast.”

She followed him down a winding road, almost reflexively keeping an eye on her GPS to make sure it still picked up the signal. She was horny, but she was not stupid.

Bryan led her to the edge of a park with two dozen small wooden cabins that she would describe as faux rustic. It was as if the influence of Hollywood had reached this far, giving everything a slight glimmer of artificiality.

She giggled as Bryan held the door open for her while she ran through, ditching her sandals and in one bound landing on the bed.

They did not exchange a single word as Bryan got on top of her and kissed her, and Cindy responded by wrapping her arms around him and kissing him back.

After a few minutes, he stood back up and turned on the cabin light, turning to her and taking a moment to admire her, his eyes roaming all over her body, from her dark hair splayed over the bedspread all the way down to her legs fully exposed by a sundress that had ridden up her thighs and gave a glimpse of the sheer white lace panties she wore underneath.

Cindy felt herself melt under the stare he was giving her, and she wiggled her body slowly, soaking in the attention, the desire, the lust. She wanted him to take her. Her skin sizzled; her pussy gushed.

She thought of the medallion in her purse, wondered when she would take it out, when she would give herself over to this man, body and soul. The wave of lust that coursed through her was delicious.

Bryan took a step towards her, removing his jacket, tossing it towards the chairs by the large window. He moved slowly, whether from resisting the impulse to jump on her, or whether to simply soak in her presence on the bed and in this cabin, she could not say. And did not care. The way he looked at her, the way his eyes traveled up her legs, the way they just took possession of her—she loved it all.

He sneaked his way between her legs, and she parted them further, a silent yet clear invitation. She could feel the slight breeze from an open window against the rapidly dampening crotch of her panties, and wondered whether Bryan could see the wet patch form, and what he would think.

That you’re a slut hungry for it. She almost moaned.

“You want this?” Bryan asked, almost unnecessarily.

“Oh fuck yes,” she responded in a single breath, softly.

The look in his eyes told her that he understood perfectly what was going on. She was giving herself to him. He smiled, a smile in which she read both his appreciation for what she was offering, but also a feeling that of course she would be giving herself to him because he was that good, that nice, that hot. It was a smile that said that he liked the idea of her sexy little body offered for his selfish pleasure.

Still towering over her, he placed his hands on her thighs, and she groaned at the touch. Her hips shot up, and he grinned in response.

He slid his hands up, savoring her smooth skin, sticking to the outside of her body, bringing up her flimsy sundress over her hips and upward, baring her diminutive panties and her stomach and stopping right at the base of her breasts.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful,” he said under his breath, and she heard the catcall in his voice.

“Well thank you, kind—OH!”

He had pressed his lips on her flat stomach, and the contact sent sparks all through her skin. Her clitoris throbbed; her cheeks clenched.

She pushed her hips up to make contact with him, but with a firm hand he pressed her back down on the bed, and the implicit assertion in that gesture drove her wild.

He leaned further down, and drove kisses down her lower stomach and the edge of her panties and then further down their gusset and by that point Cindy was moaning out loud and spreading her legs farther apart and when he kissed her pussy through the soaked material she gasped and let out an “Fuck!!” that made him smile.

“You’re so wet,” he said, stating a fact.

“It’s… it’s all you!” And she moaned again as he nibbled her pussy lips through her panties. She was not patient, and she pulled her panties aside exposing her freshly shaved snatch and without skipping a beat Bryan dove in and licked from the bottom of her pussy lips up to her sensitive clitoris and Cindy lost it. She thought she would come right then and there, as his tongue dove in and out on its way up, soaking up her juices like a dry sponge. She had not even noticed she was clutching his hair.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growled as he looked up at her.

She grinned stupidly, thinking she might just get lost in his eyes, in the way he looked at her.

“Come on,” he said, straightening up. “Flip around.”

“How?…”

He put a hand on one of her hip and forcefully lifted it up and Cindy obediently turned onto her stomach, aware of her thong exposing her ass completely but for a tiny string running between her cheeks, aware of the sight she must be giving him. All yours, she thought with a lusty smile.

“Up,” he said, pulling up her rear with the same steady hand. “No, head down. Like that. Nice.”

Her head was pressed into the bed, her dress bunched up high on her chest, her legs spread and her ass in the air, and Cindy thought back to how Calypso had been when she and Daniel had chatted last time and suddenly she was there with him, she was Cindy and she was Calypso and Daniel and Bryan were about to take her and she thought back to the medallion in her purse that she would need before Bryan could shove his cock into her and make her come like nothing else. She was about to say something when she felt him guide her again with his hand.

“Move. Right a bit, just a bit. There. Nice. Perfect.”

It was as if he was directing her, as if she was a star in one of his movies, getting the perfect shot, the perfect angle, the perfect position for her to be exposed maximally like the submissive slut she was. She fantasized about the whole world seeing her like this, being exposed, filmed. Fantasized about her professors finding out, snickering at her, putting the moves on her, expecting her to spread her legs for them because it’s what she was, an unsatisfiable slut.

She gasped as she felt Bryan’s tongue attacking her from behind, sucking at her exposed pussy while he pushed her thong out of the way. She tilted her hips up, providing him better access, and he licked on and on, sloppily, with an agile and expert tongue, his nose almost thrust into her ass and tickling her, adding to the stream of sensations. Even her breasts pressed into the bed joined in the fray, the slight back and forth his aggressive tonguing caused rubbing her nipples against the coarse covers.

When he pushed two fingers into her pussy, Cindy came. She yelled and shook and Bryan never let go, holding on tight to her thighs and keeping her in place as he forced his tongue as deep as it would go into her pussy, over and over again.

When he finally relented, she twisted around, still shaking under the sensations, and grabbed him and kissed him hard, tasting herself on his lips, feeling her juices all over his chin and his cheeks, kissing and licking it all up while making little cooing noises that she could not control.

He looked at her, and she knew what he was thinking about. “Your turn,” he said. It was not a question.

“Whatever you want,” she said breathlessly. And she was true to her word.

Bryan stood, and stripped off his shirt and then his slacks. He had a nice toned body, the body of someone who took care of himself. He was waxed, too, showing off a well-developed chest. In one swoop, Cindy pulled her dress over her head, and then snapped off her bra, baring her chest. She longed for Bryan to reach down and pinch her perky nipples.

Bryan’s cock was hard and erect, shooting straight out towards her. It was her turn, as Bryan had told her, and she obediently went back on all four, this time facing him, and without hesitation Bryan took a step toward her and slid his cock between her welcoming lips. She sucked him in, choking slightly on the girth of his massive shaft. It was the widest cock she had ever had—not long, but wide. She wondered expectantly how it would feel slamming into her pussy.

“Oh man, that’s sweet,” Bryan groaned, and Cindy took it as encouragement. She sucked him harder, her head bobbing wildly, her breasts bouncing.

“Hold on, baby,” Bryan said, and he took two steps to the left, and Cindy followed. “Perfect. Come on, back to it. Suck on it, baby. Yeah, like that. Good girl.”

His words sent chills down her spine. She loved to have Daniel take her, obviously, but he was not a dominant fellow. He cared too much. She could see it in his eyes. Sex was emotional; sex was connection. Sometimes, that was nice. At other times, it was not what a girl wanted. Bryan, on the other hand, was treating her like a piece of ass, which was exactly what she wanted.

After letting her suck on him for a few minutes, Bryan reached down and cupped her cheek with a strong hand. “Get on your back, baby. Head dangling over the side. That’s right, like that. Perfect. Good girl. God, that’s a beautiful pair of tits right there.”

She was on her back, her head between his legs, his cock bouncing over her face, and Bryan reached down and grabbed her breasts with both hands, massaging them with demanding hands. She moaned and spread her legs wider and licked at the cock over her face, trying to catch the tip between her lips.

“Oh, you hungry, baby? You want a bit more meat? Here, I’ve got a mouthful for you.”

He pressed his cock between her lips, and Cindy tilted her head back and accepted it inside, taking him deeper this time, the position letting him fuck in and out of her mouth and giving her precious little room to maneuver. Which part of her loved dearly, the feeling of being used. The boys at the fraternity loved to take her that way—it was a classic porn position, the one where the girl gets throat-fucked with nowhere to go.

And Bryan took full advantage, fucking her face like it was a pussy, his hands on her breasts, once in a while reaching between her legs and playing with her pussy through her nearly ruined panties. Cindy came once more when two of his fingers slipped inside her, even as Bryan tried to press his cock beyond the entrance of her throat, but failed miserably.

“I’ve got to have you, baby. I’ve got to fuck that sweet little pussy of yours,” Bryan groaned.

There it was. And she wanted it as much as he did.

He pulled out of her mouth, and gestured to the bed. “Get on the bed, baby. Spread those legs of yours and I’ll make you feel so good you’re gonna explode.”

Cindy swallowed, and sat up on the bed. “Wait,” she said, trembling slightly. “Don’t go anywhere.”

She rushed to her purse sitting on a table by the door, and loved the way Bryan just watched her, his eyes on her ass, taking her in, appreciating in advance what he would be getting. She would make it so good for him he would dream of her for the next several years.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” he said as she fished around her purse. “The way you move, that body, that smile. You could be a star if you wanted.”

Cindy grabbed the medallion and palmed it, taking a deep breath. No one but Daniel had ever worn it—even at that party way back when that introduced them, she did not use it on anyone but Daniel. And here she was, about to give someone else power over her. She wanted it so badly it made her pussy moan out with desire.

She turned around just in time to see Bryan with an oddly serious expression on his face, looking off to the side. It was fleeting—he turned his head back toward her in a flash, wearing his now customary smile, but Cindy’s danger sense screamed out. It was that same sense that might speak to her late at night in a dark abandoned area, the one that made sure she never left her drink unattended at parties, the one that knew the difference between kinky and dangerous. And that sense was shouting right now, warning her about something. She did not know what.

She clutched the medallion in her hand, her lust and her sudden worry battling it out. She wanted so dearly to be back on the bed getting her face thoroughly fucked by Bryan’s thick shaft she wanted to cry out.

But reason won out. Reason always won out with her. Even as her pussy complained.

She picked up her purse again, and dropping the medallion into it palmed her mace bottle.

“What’s wrong?” Bryan asked, seeing the frown on her face.

“I…” She took a deep breath, clutching the mace spray tighter with her hand still in her purse. “Look, I hate to do this to you, but… I’m not a tease, Bryan. I like you very much. But I can’t do this right now. I thought I could. And I really really want to. But I’m just out of a relationship, and it hurt a lot, and I just got this huge spike of fear that maybe I’ll get hurt again and it’s too soon for that.” On cue, she willed some tears to come, and they did.

“Oh,” he said, simply. He did not look upset, only disappointed. “Right.” He nodded. “It’s okay. I mean, I’m sorry about that relationship, and I gotta say, that guy must have been a pretty well-rounded idiot to fuck up something with you, but I understand.” He grinned that wonderful smile of his. “I guess I’m sorry I took it so fast. I just couldn’t resist you, you know?”

She closed her eyes, relieved that he did not seem pissed off at her. He was even supportive. The fuck is wrong with you, brain? she chastised herself. “Thank you. It’s… wonderful that you’re so understanding.”

He spread his hands and shrugged, a gesture that was funny given he was completely naked. “Hey, it’s the new millennium. It’s what us guys need to do, right?”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“I certainly hope you will.” He looked around, with a frown on his face. “Huh, I’d offer you to watch some telly or something, but there’s nothing like that here. Just squirrels and an old book about exploring the Colorado river that must have been left here at least a hundred years ago. I got a few movies on my laptop, if you want?”

“It’s okay. I think… I think I should go. Again, I’m sorry.”

“No worries, baby. It’s all good. I’ve got actors that were flakier on set all through my career. Here,” and he tossed her the sundress she had discarded earlier.

“Thanks.” She grabbed it and ducked into the bathroom, getting dressed quickly. When she came out, Bryan was dressed as well, but was still sitting on the bed.

“Well,” she said, “despite appearances, I actually had a fun time tonight.”

“So did I. Will I see you again?”

She grinned. “Well, you do know where I get my Smirnoff Ice…”

He had the decency to laugh, and it made her feel somewhat better.

She left, clutching her bag, her breath still short, still aroused beneath the cold sweat of worry that had gripped her.

She drove slowly all the way back to her apartment, wondering what had happened.

* * *

“So how did it go?” Georgios Pangalos’s voice was gruff, as if he had just woken up, though everyone knew he did not go to bed before four in the morning.

“Didn’t quite work the way I thought it would,” Bryan Seeker said into his cell phone. “Honest, I’ve got no clue what happened. Once second she was putty in my hands—and I mean fucking sexy putty, primo stuff—and the next, she’s getting dressed and fleeing me like I got the bubonic plague.”

“Pretty sure it’s bucolic plague…”

Bryan sighed and tried hard not to snap. “Not relevant. Point is, if I didn’t know any better, I’d have said she figured out what was going on.”

“So you struck out?”

Bryan sneered. “No I didn’t. Who do you think I am? I’ve uploaded the video I recorded. There’s some pretty good stuff there. I ate her out from behind, and there are some great shots of her ass. And then I fucked her mouth, hard. The girl’s a natural. Fucking hot in the sack. And she’s got that submissive streak that when she looks at you it just makes you melt.”

“Yeah, but if she won’t put out, it’s no good.”

“Just watch the clip, Gee. You got it yet?”

“Hold on. The fucker’s pretty big. Okay, got it. Right. Oh my. Okay, I see what you mean. Fuck me, look at that fucking ass! Jesus, you’re a lucky bastard. I’d give my left nut to be get to fuck that sweet pussy. Fuck me, that’s some sweet pussy right there!”

“And you said I was a poet…”

“Fuck you, asshole. Fuck you and your bitch of a mother. Oh fuck, look at her go. You should have stuck your fingers in her asshole—make her squeal like a fucking pig.”

“She was pretty sweet.”

“So what now? A shame to let her go. I’d love to have her star in my movies. She’d be an instant success. I mean, even this clip, as shitty as it is, I can package up and sell as a teaser.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll come around. Before too long, you’re gonna have your next porn star. Have I ever let you down?”

“Gotta give you that. So what’s the plan? You gonna blackmail her with the video? Sway her with your charm? Buy her off?” There was mockery in Georgios’s voice.

“None of the above. I’m going to go see the Medicine Man. If anyone can convince her that fucking on camera is a wise career choice, a career choice that will fulfill her as a woman, it’s him.”

* * *

ADCORP CONFIDENTIAL MEMO to Adonai Davenham.

SUBJECT: Cynthia Caprese

MEMO: Following field report #449342B from Investigation and Enforcement Division agent Caldwell on September 15, a subsequent observation team (level 1, distance observation, no contacts) confirmed the identity of Cynthia Caprese (known as Cindy), a subject reported terminated during Operation Cargyle (details attached). The subject now goes by the name Cynthia Barnes (mother’s maiden name), and is a first year doctoral student at the University of California in Los Angeles. Biographical data attached. She changed her appearance slightly, her hair going from blonde and long to light dark and shorter. She also wears glasses. No suspicious behavior, no physical contacts with other subjects from Operation Cargyle. Observation logs attached. Because Operation Cargyle is red flagged, observation team coordinator demands clarification of orders regarding how to proceed.

Agent Shawbank of IE Division, point of contact for Operation Cargyle, is cc’d on this memo.