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Author's Notes: If you have any commentary on this or any of my stories or suggestions or ideas then email at arcane_x@hotmail.com. The more thought out and less vulgar the email the more likely I am to read it. As for the rest of my work on the net feel free to post and distribute as you wish so long as credit and the above address remains attached.
Los Angeles nights could be hot. Hot and humid. They were the sort of nights that you didn"t really want to go out to the clubs, merely sit at home, preferably with air conditioning. It was hot. But it wasn"t that hot. Not that you could tell if you looked at the attractive blonde tossing and turning on her bed. In a borderline state of consciousness and sleep she'd thrown her duvet to the floor long ago. The sheets had followed not long after but the uncomfortable heat remained. Her nightie was next and last to go, leaving the sleeping woman nude on her bed. From brow to foot her skin was soaked, oozing beads of slick sweat which pooled on her sheets. Her shoulder length blonde hair was messy and knotted, wet with her sweat. Sweat streamed from her shoulder, between her cleavage and over her thighs. Every inch of flesh was sopping wet.The room wasn"t that hot. It just felt that way to Helen.
Helen Hunt could afford air conditioning. It wasn"t failing either. On the contrary the room was a fairly cool temperature. Helen on the other hand felt like she was burning up. At first she thought she"d never get to sleep and when she did it was a fevered tossing and turning. Her glistening face wrinkled and contorted now and then. Beneath her clammy eyelids her eyes flicked and flicked, dreams assailing her. Despite the heat and the unpleasantness of her circumstance, she did not wake up.
She ran. She didn"t know why she was running or what she was running from but she had to run. She ignored that her lungs were burning. She ignored that her white singlet was now transparent due to her sweating profusely. She ignored everything. She just ran. The harder she ran the weaker she got. In the end she collapse onto the couch.
Helen popped her head up in confusion. The exhaustion was gone. She was still amazingly hot, her white lace bra, still visible through the plastered material of her singlet. Her location had changed.
Had it? Where had she been running from? Where to?
She looked around the room. She knew it well. It was the living room from Mad about you. At least it was a real version of it. The fourth wall really was a fourth wall, not a studio. She sat up, brushing her matted blonde hair from her fringe. Helen tried to think, tried to figure out what was going on. She failed. She stood and looked around the room, examining every detail. There was no doubt it was the room. Every piece of the set was exactly in place.
"What is this place?"
"A neutral ground."
Helen turned to the kitchen door. At the door was a blonde, hot and flustered, bearing a sweat soaked outfit. It was Helen Hunt. Helen, the one in the living room, blinked twice. It was her no doubt. Her as she was at the present, same costume, same sweat soaked look.
"You..."
"I"m you Helen. Close enough to it anyway. Sit down."
Helen number one sat back down on the couch.The second Helen walked into the room and swung about a chair, sitting on it backwards and leaning over the back of it.
"It"s your mind Helen. Your psyche. I"m as close to the real you as it gets."
"But why am I here?"
"Something bad is happening Helen. Something's coming."
"What?"
"I don"t know."
"Then how...."
"Look Helen you have to trust me... to trust yourself. This is your mind. You should have full control here but you don"t. Something is trying to take over. It can only do that if you let it. It's a dream Helen. Try to wake up. If you can't then you have to beat it."
"Beat what?"
"I can"t say. I"ll try and find out." the second Helen stood up and walked out the front door. "Don"t leave this flat Helen. It"s your construct. Your safer here. I"ll come back soon."
"O.. K." Helen tried to piece together the facts in her bewildered mind.
"Good." the second Helen slammed the door, clicking it locked behind her. Helen sat on the couch, still hot and now even more confused than ever.
The second Helen ran down the hall and into the elevator. After four floors she got out and ran down the stairs. She made four flights before she ran head first into a dark figure. Helen2 tumbled to the floor in a heap.
"How nice to see you my dear." it"s hand reached for her slowly.
Helen sat on the couch, unable to understand what was going on. She"d looked through the books in the case, all baby manuals and celebrity guides, just the sort of thing the real Buckmans would have. There was no Paul, real or unreal. She was glad. Everything else just made things more complex. She got a drink from the kitchen but it made little difference to her temperature. Trying to readjust her singlet she wondered just what was outside the door and what her double was doing.
Helen2 was on her knees in the room. She no longer wore a sweat soaked singlet. She was now topless. Her breasts were encased in two silvery cones that undulated forcefully. Her hand were cuffed behind her in similar metal and third silvery cone crowned her head. She shook and shuddered, eyes wide, peering into oblivion, face etched with failing resistance.
"Do you like it Helen?" the figure asked softly.
"nnnggggg." Helen2 responded as best she could.
"We will win Helen."
"nnnnggnnooo!"
"Yes we will."
A dial was turned higher. The hum became louder. Inside the cones the breasts responded, nipples rising more. Helen2 gritted her teeth and groaned.
There was a knock at the door. Helen wondered what to do. At first she ignored it but it didn"t go away. It got more frantic. Finally she looked through the peephole. Stepping back for a second she opened the door. The woman stepped in and Helen locked it again. It was Helen again but this time in a suit. A well fitting, amazingly formal, black business suit. Her hair was tied up into a neat bun and she wore glasses that made her seem even more intellectual than her presence exuded. There was no doubting that it was herself again. The glasses didn"t hide her smooth, attractive face any more than the suit hid her shapely body.
"What did you.."
"I am not the Helen you met before." she replied swiftly.
"Then.."
"I have reason to believe that the Helen you met has been captured."
"Captured?"
"If so then our situation has been compromised."
"What? How?"
"She will have revealed more information."
"She.. she"d give it to.. them?"
"They would take it from her."
"How?"
"The subject is harnessed and her mammary organs are sucked up by Cones, capital C, which then manipulate them in a form of erotic torture. A similar cone treats the brain in such a manner. It makes the subject orgasm mentally for as many times as needed. The subject is unable to withhold information."
Helen shivered in fear and revulsion.
"But.. this is my mind.. how..?"
"On a subconscious level you may have hypno erotic fantasies.
It may have tapped them."
"It?"
"The invader."
"What...? This is all so crazy."
"I know Helen but we have to work together. There are fewer of us now. Time is short."
The sweaty bosom jiggled and shook, Cones working at them, sucking her will to fight.Helen2 was losing the fight but was fighting anyway. The dial went up. So did the hum. So did the nipples.
"You can"t win Helen."
The tortured woman couldn"t reply.
"Do you know why?"
"nnnggggg."
"Because I know you aren"t her"
"nnnnnoooo!!!"
"But it doesn"t matter. You"ll do for now."
The dial rose five levels. Orgasms drowned the screams.
"So what do we do?" Helen asked her suited companion.
"We need to figure out our.. your weakness. The way in which this thing is getting into you."
"But how? If this is all subconscious then it could be anything."
"It"ll be in this flat. This is safe ground for you as long as you don't let anything bad in. I"m an analytical side, I can help you see the more likely things. What"s on television?"
"Huh?" Helen used the remote and flicked through the channels.
Every one was simple static.
"Nothing there then." the suited Helen mused.
"I don"t get it."
"Look Helen, everything here is a clue. It could be anywhere from the radio to the carpet designs. There has to be something."
So they looked. Helen, the real Helen, really didn"t know what was going on. She was still hot and bothered, still sweating heavily, even though her companion was cool and calm. They tried all the radio station, which were a few rock and pop but nothing else. They searched the kitchen which threw up odd ingredients but little else. Her wardrobe contained numerous dresses and costumes, all assortment of clothes for any situation. But there was no clue. The baby books were much as she"d expected them to be. The celebrity guides fairly generic, albeit focusing mostly on female celebrities. It wasn"t surprising that Paul would chose them. The carpets and artwork certainly didn"t seem to be out of the ordinary. Indeed there was no sort of clue as to what she was looking for. Helen really didn"t know what it might be even if she saw it but she guessed her aspect would.
There was a knock at the door. She moved towards it but the suited woman was there first. She looked through the peephole for a second and then hastily let the knocker in, locking the door behind her. It was Helen Hunt. Again.
She wore a tight, black lycra top that clung to her torso the way that Helens white sweaty singlet clung to hers. Her shorts were similar, black and clinging to her shapely legs like plastic wrap. Helen thought that the new comer had an even better body than she did but it was probably simply a matter of perspective. Her hair was tied back in a tight pony tail with a few stray hairs brushing her fringe.
She looked like she was ready for a full athletic workout. Clearly she had not done so already. There was no trace of the sweat which plastered Helen relentlessly. Looking over the girl again she saw just how tight the clothes wore. It was clear she was wearing nothing underneath them. Clear nipples pressed through the fabric and there was little disguising the attributes beneath the shorts.
"How is it out there?" the suited Helen asked.
"Our last Helen just got Coned."
"Has she succumbed?"
"By now? I think so. They were using level twelve."
"Twelve?" the suited Helen showed a shock of emotion. "That"s over the edge."
"I know. But they aren"t stopping. Any luck in finding the key."
"Not yet." the real Helen finally entered the conversation. "Damn
I"m tired." she wiped her brow of sweat, realising just how exhausted she was.
"Then go to bed." the sporty Helen suggested.
"Go to bed in a dream?"
"Why not?"
Helen shook her head in confusion but was to tired to deny it. She headed for the bed room, slumped down and almost immediately fell fast 'asleep".
In her real bed in Los Angeles Helen stopped trashing on her bed. She lay flat on her back, sweaty bosom rising and falling in gasps. It was a reprieve from the torment, a gap in the heat. She was still hot and sweaty but at least she could rest now. Rest while parts of her still searched for answers and others tried to hold on to themselves.
"The Cones are your friend. The Cones love you. Give yourself to the Cones."
She tried to fight the voice but she couldn"t. She knew it was true. She knew the Cones were draining her of her will but they were doing it in such an amazing manner. It felt so good, so delightful. The way they sucked at her, massaged her, every little action was so precise in her pleasure. She couldn"t fight the Cones. Why not love them? The endless mental orgasm was hell to fight but bliss to succumb to. Why not succumb? Why not chose bliss, love and orgasm over pain?
The Cones. They were her friend. They loved her. They made love to her.
Helen2 smiled. She loved the Cones.
Helen awoke with a start. Something bad was happening, something had given way. She didn"t know what but she knew she had to get out. She jumped of the bed and went into the main room of the Buckmans flat. All the books from the shelf were now stacked on the table, both Helens reading them intently.
"I have to leave." she said, distracting them.
"You can"t" the suited woman said.
"It"s not safe." the sporty girl replied.
"I have to go now!" Helen headed for the door but the lycra clad figure hopped in her way.
"Look Helen, were close. Just wait a little longer. You can"t go out."
"I can and I will." she pushed the girl aside.
"No Helen." the straight Helen stood up behind her.
"Look here. It"s my mind and you cAAAAAAHHHHH!"
Helen tumbled to the floor, body shivering in spasms. The suited Helen slipped the stun gun back into her pocket. "I"m sorry it had to be this way Helen."
"We could have made it painless." the lycra girl stood along side the suited one, looking down on Helens helpless form. "But you had to go and fight. All of you did. But we got you in the end. We"ll get you too."
"W..w.what are you?" Helen trembled as her body struggled to move.
"We"re you, just like the others. We"re parts of you. Weak underlying parts, fantasies and repressed desires." Suit spoke.
"We decided to take over. Don"t worry Helen, you"ll still be you. You"ll just see things differently." the Lycra easily lifted
Helen back into a sitting position on the couch where she sat helplessly. "We took over slowly at first. Because of your repressed fantasies we were able to use your techniques. You have a repressed mind control and bondage fetish. We discovered the Cones one of your repressed teenage fantasies. They were the key. They let us brainwash every little part of you a piece at a time. Of course it"s all useless until we break you, the real Helen. And we don"t even have to break you, just convince you."
"Y.. you"re going to use the Cones."
"No Helen." Suit replied. "They won"t work on you, only other aspects. But we have them all now. And we found the key."
They both smiled wickedly.
"We had to get in but you let us in thinking we were out to help you."
"We are out to help you. Let us help you Helen."
"Make us a part of you."
"No." Helen refused.
The two figures exchanged glances and nodded to each other. Lycra sat down by the real Helen while Suit stood in front of them. She removed her glasses and unclipped her hair, sweeping it from side to side in waves. She slipped of her jacket slowly, hanging it over a chair. Then she unbuttoned her collar, then the next button then the next, finally all the way down, opening her shirt fully, breasts held in by a tight white bra. Slowly and seductively she slid the white blouse off her shoulders. She ran her hands over her breasts, rubbing them through the fabric, pushing them together to enhance her cleavage. Then she unclasped it, slowly lowering it to reveal her bosom, Helens bosom.
Again she rubbed her breasts, this time touching the bare flesh. As the standing figure rubbed her chest, Lycra pulled of her top, revealing similar breasts, if no a little larger. Dropping her black top to the ground she reached over and pulled at Helens top. She couldn"t yet move and was helpless to resist as her sweaty singlet was tugged off and dropped on a soppy heap on the floor, followed soon enough by her bra. Now three pairs of Helens exposed breasts graced the room.
Now Suit ran her hands over her legs, swaying in erotic motion. Gently she unbuckled her belt, played with her fly then slid it open to reveal white panties. The hands slid inside the trousers and shimmied them down and finally off. The shoes and socks were kicked off quickly. Now the suited Helen was all but suitless save her white panties which she ran her hands over repeatedly. Finally they too were removed, slowly and slyly. Now Helens nude body danced in the living room, swaying back and forth, bosom jiggling lightly, hair flicking side to side. Lycra removed her shorts to reveal her dark blonde hair. Similarly she did the same to Helens shorts and sweat soaked panties. Now all three women were nude. There was no distinction in their figures, no way of telling them as different. The two Other Helens rose up, dancing together, pressing chest to chest, thigh to thigh. Their hands ran over their bodies, they kissed and caressed. Then they turned to Helen.
"We know what you want."
"We know the truth."
"The deep seeded desire."
"The lesbian fantasy."
"The celebrity fixation."
"It was in the books."
"Your mind created them. All those beautiful women."
"We can give them to you."
"You can have them."
Helen wanted to argue but she couldn"t. It was true. She knew it. She wanted it, wanted them. She wanted to touch the flesh of starlets, give them sensations they"d never felt before. She wanted to press her breasts to those of others, to kiss them, suck them. She wanted to feel their lips on her, feel their longing. It was what she"d always wanted.
Helen reached out and pulled them down to her. They hugged her tight, each sucking on an erect nipple. Helen fed them, nurtured them with the milk of her desire. She felt their breasts bounce against her stomach, dripping with the sweat they all now shared. She felt their nipples, equally stiff to hers. She felt their hands, caressing her legs, delving into her sex, pleasuring her. She arched her hips, drawing them closer to her. They sucked and rubbed, closer and closer, deeper and deeper until all three started to merge, three Helens becoming one mighty power. Three bodies all erupting in one mighty orgasm.
Helen screamed, her eyes flicking open as the incredible orgasm ripped through her. The sweat soaked nude star shuddered on her bed. Her breasts bounced, hips arching up and down. Her world seemed to distort with the pleasure she felt. Finally after minutes of pure delight the orgasm subsided, leaving her panting, sweat drenched sheets cooling down.
There was a knock at the door.
Shaking her wet hair Helen stood, wrapped herself in her wet sheet and walked for the door. She open it with out fear.
"Are you okay?" the woman asked.
Helens mind ticked over. Her neighbour. Brigitte Ward. Young attractive hot shot lawyer. Red head. Single. Heard screams. Put on dressing gown. Came to check.
"Er.. yeah."
"I heard yells."
"Oh nothing really. Come in"
The woman entered the living room of the house slowly.
"Are you sure everything"s fine?"
"Yes... I.... No." Helen answered closing the door.
"Something"s wrong?"
"Yes." she was more confident. "Something is wrong."
"What?"
"Your dressing gown."
"What?"
"Your dressing gown."
"I don"t quite."
"Take it off."
"Pardon?"
"Take it off!"
The woman blinked once or twice then untied her belt and let the robe slip to the floor. She was naked underneath. It was a hot night. Helen moved over to her, wrapping them in the same wet sheet and lowering them into a kneel. She hugged the lawyer, pressing her wet bosom against the warmth of hers. Helen smiled as the woman responded by kissing Helens neck gently. She smiled as she slipped her hand into Brigittes already anticipating sex. She smiled at the opportunities. Hunting season had begun.
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