Captured Souls (17 page)

His face had become so animated, his enthusiasm as he spoke of his passion hoisted his energy, and his charisma overwhelmed me. The scent of his passion enthralled me as Madonna moaned her way through “Justify My Love” and I leaned over as if to kiss him. Instead, I turned my head and looked back at the dance floor.

“Let’s dance,” I said, pulling him toward it.

“Oh no, I’m no good at that stuff,” he protested.

“A musician? Who can’t dance?”

“I play it, I don’t do it,” he whined as I pulled him towards the dance floor.

He danced very well, gyrating his sexy pelvis. We danced closer to the couple we’d been watching. Before long, the four of us were writhing together to the beat. I kissed Cassandra and the men danced around us. Cassandra and I ran our hands along each other’s bodies, our fingers coyly lifting each other’s skirts so that the onlookers could see our lingerie. Before long, the four of us retreated to the back rooms.

Specimen 4 was very shy in the locker room. It was rather adorable, because of how young he was. Everyone has a first time and tonight was his, although he didn’t admit it. He tried not to stare around him at the dozen or so people stripping naked. I peeled off my outfit and neatly folded my clothes, putting them in a locker. Once the four of us were naked, with our towels wrapped around us, we walked into the upstairs bar area.
 

We bought a round of drinks, using our reputations as collateral on a tab, and wandered through the open-area orgy room. Several mattresses were on the floor and a Jacuzzi was nearby where many naked people lounged with martinis. Beyond the Jacuzzi were washrooms with hangers, more lockers, mirrors and shelves with all kinds of toiletries, including wet wipes, condoms, lube, mouthwash, mints, latex gloves and more. Since we had no purses, it was nice to be able to have access to such products.

When the four of us had finished our drinks, we went to another level of the club where drinks weren’t allowed for safety reasons. There were many rooms with beds, one had a spanking bench, another had a doctor’s table, still another had a sex swing.

Specimen 4 stared at the swing.

“Have you ever used one?” I asked him, enjoying the look of anticipation and excitement as he puzzled over the logistics of it.

“No,” he said. He was adorable as he stared at the swing, his hand holding his towel primly over his growing erection.

“Do you want to see?” I asked him. I didn’t wait for a reply as I slid myself into the swing with the help of Cassandra and Felix. It took a few minutes for me to get my balance and then I was ready for my close-up.

“Now, you come to me and fuck me,” I said. He stared at me.

“Right now?” he asked.

“Sure, right now. First get one of those condoms from that urn, and then come and swing me.”

He didn’t say a word as he looked around. We saw an orgy undulating on the bed near us, and the cries and thumps of good, hard fucking filled the air. There was jazzy music playing, but it was very low and nonintrusive on this level. As he fumbled with the condom, I smiled.

“Come here,” I said. He didn’t need much coaxing for me to help him get hard with my mouth. I rocked the swing gently and soon he got the hang of getting a blow job from someone in a swing. He even relaxed enough to use my breasts as leverage for controlling the swing.

I turned my head from him so that I could speak.

“Now, fuck me,” I commanded.

He began to fuck me. Cassandra was on her knees, giving Felix head while they watched us on the swing.

I watched Specimen 4’s face as he fucked me. His youthful vitality flowed with every rhythmic thrust of his hips. His body locked with mine in a magnificent way, filling me and giving me shudders of pleasure that I had long missed. A crowd was forming, watching this magnificent musician copulating with the cougar on the swing. Even though it was business as usual at the sex club, for newcomers it was quite a party trick.

“We’d better let someone else have a turn,” I told him as I noticed a couple of ladies giving me the eye that my time had expired. He helped me from the swing and I showed him where to put his used condom and pointed out some wet wipes.

The four of us ventured on through the club maze, stopping to watch an orgy or a threesome, and then moving on. There was another Jacuzzi on this level and there were four people lounging in it. You weren’t allowed to actually have sex in it for health-code reasons although, considering what was going on all around, it didn’t really seem like it should matter. But it did, so people respected the code.

There was a room that was all bed and mirrors. The light was so dim you could hardly see the mirrors, so it seemed kind of pointless. We made sure there were condoms and wet wipes in the room and then set to work making out with each other. This time, I kissed Felix, and Cassandra kissed Specimen 4. Then we swapped.

Cassandra went down on me, her skilled little tongue taking me places where there were no experiments or agendas. For the first time in months, I didn’t have to worry about the bracelet or someone disappearing on me. I only had to worry about myself.

I sucked Specimen 4’s cock and Felix played with my breasts, and more couples filled the bed with us. Groping hands and probing cocks thrilled me in the darkness. Lips kissed me everywhere—men, women—it was a blur. The music was faint, an old big-band, saucy piece, and my mind released into the experience of full-body sensation.

My animal side emerged—my senses sharp, my nails long, my teeth itching to taste salty flesh, to lick and suck a creature until it quivers with delight under my mercy. Then it was my turn to take what is mine—all flesh, all blood, all taste, all mind…

The night was a blur of constant sex. Sweaty, passionate, needy sex. There was something in the air that night; the entire club possessed an urgent air about it. As if something was going to happen, a buzz of erotic anticipation, perhaps a full moon or other planetary alignment. More than usual, people were reaching out to each other, exploring beyond their boundaries as men touched men and women were sandwiched in between. I don’t know how many partners I had or how many rooms I dragged Specimen 4 through. He had a big grin on his face all night as he banged lady after lady on our mission of lust.

One time, as I went into the bathroom, Cassandra greeted me on the way out. “Stall three,” she whispered, “behind the toilet tank. Try it.”

I peeked behind the tank and there was a little cloth satchel looking like a piece of trash wedged in the back. I pulled it out and there was a vial of coke, a small spoon, a razor blade and a little mirror. Still a half vial left.

I helped myself to a couple of lines and the night continued on in lusty frenzy.

As I went home in the taxi by myself, the orange rays of dawn stretching across the fading night sky, I dreamed of a life where I didn’t have to worry about micromanaging specimens, one in which I’d at last hit upon the proper combination so that everything works as it should. The evening had been one of those magical nights.
 

It was rare for the club to be that vibrant in such a specific way. Certainly it was always a steamy, seductive atmosphere, but the ambiance of tonight had been slightly different. The combinations of lust and personalities had worked so well. I saw no tears, no jealousy, no drama. A welcome relief on all levels, I’m sure, for the bouncers too. People had slipped from partner to partner in an unseen dance of unspoken consent. Condoms were used, of course, and always a fresh one for each partner. It was different to dance with strangers such as this, in the dark, with no worry but getting to the next orgasm.

Specimen 4 had fit right in, dancing right along with me, learning the steps and small courtesies quickly and efficiently. He brought me water and towels. He was polite to the partners. He didn’t overwhelm anyone, but just let the night unfold.

It was a bit depressing to put him in a cab and send him home. But I knew it wouldn’t be long before our paths crossed again.

The rising sun was a spotlight on me as I fumbled with the front door, illuminating the doctor stumbling in after dawn once more.

I was revitalized and ready to proceed.

Specimen 1

Once again, Specimen 1 has fallen asleep in front of the TV with a drink in his hand. I write this staring at him with contempt. I’m trying to remember that first lusty time in the staff bathroom at faculty. How he had thrilled me to no end with his touch and looks and smell. His newness. His accent.

He is so familiar now. Sometimes I despise him.

Journal

The latest preparations have been completed.

Specimen 1

I stood in the doorway of Specimen 1’s office, wearing a new red leather corset with black piping, accented with brass buckles and giving me impressive cleavage. I wore thigh-high red leather boots that had six-inch spikes. Long red fingerless gloves showed off my new red claws. For a change of pace, a long curly blonde wig and a red riding crop crowned my look.

Specimen 1 stopped typing to give me the once-over. He grinned. Like clockwork, he stopped what he was doing and came over to me, hugging and kissing me, nuzzling the new leather all over. I pushed him back haughtily then took his hand. I led him to a mock bathroom I had pulled together on the main floor, a flat-board stage replica of the bathroom we had shared that first lusty night.

“What is this?” he asked me.

“Do you recognize it?” I asked him, unbuttoning his shirt.

“I do, but why?” he asked as he helped me get his shirt and pants off.

“I thought maybe it would be fun to relive that first night…”

“Anything you desire, Doctor,” he said as he kissed me.

Oh, we relived those glorious moments and it was nearly as thrilling as it had been back then. We used the chair, the couch, the floor, just as we had that first night. His face was happy as we spoke the words we had spoken that night. Excitement grew for both of us as the distant memories of our first night reemerged into our present.

His hands caressed me with a passion I hadn’t felt in a long time. A passion that felt like it was from his heart, not from my demands. His passion created new swells of longing and desire in me and I kissed him.

“Miriam, what is wrong with you?” he asked me as he pulled back gently after a few moments.

“Nothing, why?” I asked, kissing his shoulders playfully.

“You’re so passionate, you almost seem like you like me,” he teased as he pushed his cock into me.
 

I groaned with pleasure. “Of course I like you, why do you think you’re here…” I kissed him before he could answer and he rocked into me with fresh abandon. We both cried and moaned as we rode our waves of pleasure that never seemed to end. We stopped and started so many times that it was morning by the time we were finished. The sun shone through the top slats of the living room’s drapes and I realized I’d lost yet another night to sex. How will my work ever be done?

We both finally stood up from where we snuggled on the floor, helping each other and then hugging.

My heart beat against his as we stood there. In the reflection of one of the many mirrors, I caught the gaze of his tortured blue eyes. I still want to crawl into his eyes and see what is really in his soul. I held him close and relished his lean warmth of bone and flesh.

I wondered if he ever thought about what his life had been before he met me.

Journal

The glow of my re-creation with Specimen 1 was short-lived. Again, the dull rhythm of complacency was the backbeat to our three lives. I had my own career and then I also had to keep up the public façade of theirs. It was exhausting and getting boring. I satisfied myself with the fact that things always change. And I was just waiting.

Our routines had become predictable, even when we tried different sex clubs, our routines were the same. It was partly because I had to have so much control over them. I longed for the freedom of not worrying about them escaping or telling. One wrong word in the bathroom and I would be done for.

I look at both of them, and though they do nothing wrong and they obey the rules, now that the goddess is gone, I can’t get past the sense of “is this all there is?”.

The perfection I strive for did exist for a short time, but I hadn’t factored in the emotional elements.

How boring perfection can be.

Change is necessary.

The experiment has been not quite a failure, but not quite a success either. It has certainly given me some observations and benchmarks that I hadn’t quite considered before.

The human element. The brainwashed don’t get bored, but the one doing the brainwashing does.

Specimen 2

He fills me with ennui. No matter what I do, his focus is on his races and his lady fans. Adjusting the formulas has made him more driven to win than ever before, his idea of perfection. He wants to conquer the world, win every triathlon that he can enter, bang every pretty young triathlete that catches his eye. His interest in me feels the most false, the most manufactured. My interest in his usefulness for this phase of my experiments has pretty much expired.