Chapter 8: Attraction
By AmyAmy, based on an idea by John Hynden
Maeve was a gloss-black fetish mannequin, over six-feet tall with her new legs. How would she manage shopping without creating a panic and summoning an armed police task-force?
If she covered up as much of the rubber as she could, she might look merely strange, rather than instantly arousing fear and suspicion in every single person she encountered. Gloves would look peculiar, given the weather, but less odd than shiny black fingers.
It took some time to find suitable clothes. When Maeve eventually emerged from her flat, dawn had come and gone, and it was early-morning. She passed a couple of young mums, pushing toddlers in overpriced strollers in earth-toned colors. Inside, Ecobarn was deserted, no other shoppers in sight. The morning rush of commuters grabbing pre-packed breakfasts, and future lunch options had yet to begin.
Maeve shivered despite the hot feeling that never really left her body. She squinted at the flickering glow of the supermarket lights, tinted to make the food look fresher, riper and more appetizing than it really was. All the colors were distorted, every spot and stain glaringly obvious, as if the scene had been sprayed with forensic revealer, and lit with black-lights. She pulled her long coat tighter around herself, though it was already zipped up to the collar.
What did she need here? She was starving. Anything would do.
She walked past the meat chiller and felt a thrill in her crotch. Yes. Meat. Delicious. Meat was full of complex proteins, easily adapted to new roles.
Where had that idea come from? She never ate meat, and what she knew about nutrition would fit on the back of a credit-card, in large print, with room to spare for a disclaimer that it was probably nonsense she’d heard on day-time TV. She sometimes ate fish, but only if Brian bought it. It might be a good choice today though. She threw a dozen salmon steaks into the trolley.
She opened the milk fridge, and with no warning, felt a thrill run up her spine. Her insides turned to jelly. She had to close the door and lean against the cold glass to get her balance. Caught in reflection, an old woman with a wheelie basket was staring at her.
Startled, she turned to meet the woman’s gaze.
The woman stared at her with sudden intensity, as if she’d just spotted something precious dropped on the floor, or a dangerous weapon. “Are you alright missy?”
Maeve searched for a good answer, an excuse. Nothing. She shook her head, “I’m fine.”
The woman continued to stare, clearly unconvinced.
“Really, I’m fine,” Maeve said. She turned back to the fridge and started loading milk into her trolley. The high-fat kind. In four-liter containers. She hesitated after three, then added another. When she closed the fridge door, the old woman had gone.
Maeve’s breath came in heaves. She tried not to shake with arousal. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the polished stainless-steel at the edge of the door. Her face was flushed and sweaty. Her eyes were red from crying. Didn’t she look suspicious?
Slowly, she regained her composure and made for the single open checkout.
As she loaded salmon steaks and milk onto the conveyor, she got a nagging feeling that there was something wrong with her shopping. There was definitely something, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
Then she realized what it was.
She’d forgotten the tea. She asked the woman on the checkout to wait a second, and darted back to the beverages aisle. It had almost been a disaster, but she’d saved it.
Everything would be fine.
* * * * *
Back at her flat, Maeve found Brian was up and off the sofa. He was drinking water, but stopped when she turned the kettle on. She considered her shopping bags, sixteen liters of milk. Today milk made a lot of sense. Large complex molecules in a thick emulsion. Images of irregular hexagonal shapes danced before her eyes.
She tried to ignore whatever strange goo-induced fantasy she was having. “Brian?”
Brian stared at her silently, clutched his water glass with both hands and sat down at the kitchen table.
Maeve moved over to the fridge, looked at him over her shoulder. “Are you alright? You seemed out of it earlier.”
“Headache.” He scratched at the stubble growing in on his chin. “What’s going on? You seem… Taller? Are those new boots?”
She splashed milk into the cup of tea and pushed it towards him. “Check me out.”
Brian’s gaze tracked down her coat to the smooth black rubber of her legs exposed beneath.
“Wow. How the heck can you stand in those things?”
She didn’t have an answer, so she made herself busy putting away the milk and salmon.
“I mean, you really look a lot taller. And thinner. And… When did you get those freaky boots? I’m not saying they don’t look great on you, but…”
“They’re not really my style, are they?” She said.
“No. They suit you better than I’d have dreamed. Though you are looming in those heels. I feel tiny.”
“Brian, what do you remember about last night?”
He laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve got the mother of all hangovers. Did I make an ass of myself?”
She smiled. Brian was still himself, even if she wasn’t.
“You could say that. It wasn’t your fault though.” Should she tell him what had happened? Should she tell him what she’d done? Or what the thing had done while she wasn’t in control?
He’d find out sooner or later anyway. But what would he do when he found out what she’d done? That she beat the snot out of two guys? And what would he do when he found out what she’d become? How would he feel about her turning into a rubber fetish doll with an insatiable sexual appetite?
There it was. That’s what she was, wasn’t it? She’d been trying not to crystallize it, but all she wanted now was to feel those orgasms, those wonderful orgasms. What was she becoming? Just an animal with a limitless desire to fuck? An orgasm addict? A weapon controlled by sexual frustration?
A distant voice. “Maeve? Earth to Maeve. Earth to Maeve. Come in please.” Brian being a smartarse.
He was over by the sink. When had he moved? She must have zoned out.
“Sorry. Just thinking.”
“So, can I see how high those boots go?”
She pinched her temples with her fingertips, covering her eyes with her palm. A headache would really make sense about now, but she didn’t have one.
“Brian…” The fridge was beeping. She closed the door with her hip as she turned and leaned back against it, trying not to look sexy, but with a creeping feeling that her life was turning into a weird porno.
“You might as well see this sooner rather than later,” she said.
She unbuttoned her long coat and held it open.
“What the?” he said. His mouth hung open, as if he was about to drool.
“Yeah?”
He nodded. Repeatedly. Rhythmic, as if he was listening to a tune she couldn’t hear.
“All the way up,” he said. “That’s so hot. But… why? Is that really all you’re wearing under the coat?”
“It doesn’t come off. It’s stuck onto me. It is me.”
“What? Is this some kinky game? Did we do this last night?” He hesitated, gears turning behind his eyes. “Or have you been seeing people I don’t know about, and they did this to you?”
“No!” Meave’s answer was louder than she intended.
Brian’s hands shot to his ears, eyes wide as if stunned.
“Sorry,” she said, dialing her voice back down to a normal level. “But no. It’s nothing like that. It’s this thing I found on the island. It’s grown all over me.”
“Oh really?” Brian said, tone mid-way between skeptical and sarcastic.
She stepped in, took his hand, pressing it between hers. “Listen, just for a minute.”
Brian looked her in the eye. “Alright. So this is serious? But how?”
“There was this black goo thing. A creature. Like an octopus maybe? But on land. I caught it in a sandwich box and brought it home. When I let it out, it stuck onto me. Then it started to grow.” She bumped her forehead against his. “I know it sounds fantastic, but look properly. It’s impossible to explain.”
“It does sound fantastic, but I guess… I don’t really understand, but as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never lied to me about anything. Unless you’ve been keeping an awful lot of secrets.” He shook his head. “No. That’s crazy. I can’t believe everything has been a lie. That’s not you. I trust you, I do. But this is still weird. It sounds like one of those made-up internet stories. Hanley-Muller turned me into a zombie, or kidnapped by mermaids…”
“No kidding it’s weird. Wait ‘til you see what’s in the bathroom.” She shrugged off the coat, letting it fall on the floor, pulled off a woolen glove with her teeth, revealing the rubber beneath. “See? It’s seamless. No zips. Nothing. And it does not come off.”
“You really are taller. And thinner. And your… Um… Cleavage, it’s a definitely bigger. Also, very perky. And…”
There was a long pause.
Maeve waited.
“You’re not wearing any underwear are you? That’s your, er, um? You know?”
Maeve bit her upper lip. She really wanted to tell him off, but he was doing his best. “Yes,” she said.
“You’ve got a bit of a camel-toe going on there.”
Maeve flushed red. “It wasn’t like that before, was it?”
“So,” Brian let the word ring, awkward. “What is in the bathroom?”
“Go and look. But be careful. I don’t know if it’s completely safe.”
* * * * *
Maeve poured herself another glass of milk. Brian was on the sofa, nursing his head, another mug of tea between his feet. Maeve kept her distance, sitting behind the breakfast bar.
“You want some ibuprofen?” she said.
“No. It’s alright. I’ve got some Medex in my desk drawer. Speaking of which. What time is it?”
Maeve glanced across at the big screen. The news channel was still playing. The time in the corner read 9:26.
“You’ve got four minutes to get to work.” It would take him fifteen.
“Dammit. I’m not going anyway. There’s no way I can go in to work after seeing this.”
“You’re starting to get it now?”
“I can’t imagine how you must feel.” Brian shook his head. “The bathroom. What’s going on in there? It’s like another planet. This is way over my head. I probably should be running around screeching like a chicken about now, but I’m handling it. I’m handling it.”
“There’s more. Quite a lot more.”
“What do you mean?”
She slipped off the stool, circled the breakfast bar, approaching close to him. “It’s not easy to say.”
Brian slumped forward, head in his hands. “Take your time. I’ll be right here,” he said to the mug on the floor.
She crouched in front of him, looked up into his eyes. “We spend last night in a wild sex frenzy.”
“And I don’t remember? You looking like that? Just my luck.” He forced a smile, but she could see the tension around his eyes.
She leaned in, her face close enough to feel his breath on her skin. “It wasn’t just us. Sarah was in it too.”
Brian blinked several times, turned pale. “What? As in, your friend Sarah? Why would… I hardly know her.”
“I don’t remember doing it either, but I cleaned up the evidence. It happened. I was in a trance or something.”
“Like you were drunk too?”
“And afterwards, this thing that’s taken over my body went out and beat the crap out of two dodgy little scally tossers.”
“It did? Your cat-suit beat up two kids? It wasn’t you? Drunk?”
“No. Of course not. And they weren’t kids, more like early twenties.” She was stretching it, they’d probably been late teens. “Small-time dealers. Probably.”
“So, your cat-suit is a vigilante? You make it sound like it has a mind of its own.”
“And you make it sound like it’s just a suit.”
“It isn’t?”
She shook her head. “And D.C.I. Ridley has a do-not-approach out for the attacker.”
He looked up at her. “Oh. So basically, every camera in the city is watching for you?”
She lifted Brian’s chin with her hand, making him look her in the eye. “Ridley… Why is it even on his plate?”
Brian didn’t answer, instead put his hand over hers, intertwining their fingers.
She answered her own question. “Suspected ero-drug connection, I suppose.”
Brian leaned forward, kissed her lightly on the lips. “It’s not so bad. He’s a decent bloke. You can probably set him straight. The force looks after its own.” He paused, as if unsure whether to continue. “And he has a soft spot for you.”
She gave him a firm shove, tipping him away from her and back into the sofa. “No. I don’t think he does. Besides, Hanley-Muller are in on it somehow, and I have bad kind of suspicion that this is something to do with them. I know it sounds like an internet conspiracy, but their robots were out looking for me. I think.”
“You’ve got to go to the D.C.I. and explain all this. Once he sees the suit and knows it’s you, he’ll find a way to sort things out.” He shifted, as if about to sit forward again.
She climbed onto the sofa and knelt on his lap, pinning him down. “You’re remarkably optimistic about Ridley’s capabilities. Besides, there is no way. He is the system. He’ll do it by the book. I’d do the same. Those H-M spooks will disappear me and Ridley will tell himself there’s nothing he can do about it. And it will be true, even if he tries. Which I doubt he will, unless he’s a bigger idiot than I think he is.”
His breathing quickened, face flushing. “They can’t do that. If you’re a suspect, even more so. Suspects have to go through the process. Charges laid. Remand. Bail. They can’t make an end-run around the legal system.”
She shuffled forward until her enlarged breasts were right in his face. “Where have you been for the last five years Brian? They’re not just above the law, they make the law. They bought the government. They own everything. Don’t you get it? We left the EU and they came in and picked up the pieces in the bargain sale. Suspects have rights, but terrorists don’t.”
“You’re not a terrorist,” he said, it was barely a whisper. “Obviously.”
“Who decides?”
She didn’t let him answer, leaned in and silenced him with a kiss, her tongue exploring his mouth.
His eyes shot wide open, his body suddenly tense.
She didn’t break the kiss, and gradually he began to relax.
She closed her eyes and slid her tongue out of his mouth. Breaking the kiss, she tipped her head back and stared up at the ceiling. “Well?”
Brian panted for breath. “Fuck. Was that your tongue?”
She opened her eyes and straightened up. “What about it?”
“It was right down my throat. I thought I was going to choke.”
“But you didn’t. Was it hot?”
“What the… Maeve? How did you? When did you?”
“Does it bother you?”
“You weren’t kidding. It’s not just your skin that’s changed. Doesn’t it worry you? A lot?”
“It should, shouldn’t it? But it’s a funny thing. I always fantasized about being able to do that? And now I can.” She stuck her tongue out, and looked down her nose. There it was. It seemed human, but it was unusually long. “You’d think it would be a mouthful, wouldn’t you? But it isn’t. I wonder where it goes.”
“You had that as a fantasy?” He shook his head. “No. No. Why am I asking?”
“I did, but it was just an idle daydream. I never guessed it was possible. I might have dreamed something else if I’d known. It does worry me, but there are so many things happening to me, so much I can’t make sense of, and that could easily end…” She held up her hands, palm out. “Badly, I guess? If I let it all in, I’d go crazy. If I’m not hallucinating all this to begin with, in a coma from being shot.”
Brian closed his eyes for a long count of three, opened them again. “You’re not in a coma.”
“Glad to hear it. I saw that Life on Mars show. Remember that? Years back. I don’t think it’s like that. It’s not like I went back in time to a David Bowie record. Though it was about police…”
He nodded. “No. No. But what you were saying before, that’s just conspiracy theory stuff Maeve. You know it is. I get that you’re freaking out under the surface right now. I get that. I mean, I’m freaking too. But you’ve got to think this through. If this was some Hanley-Muller secret project, how did it end up on you?”
“I have considered that,” she said, and without looking down, unzipped his fly. “I don’t think it was random. It can’t really be coincidence can it?”
He looked up at the ceiling, the whites showing below his eyes. “So, what will you do instead? If things are like you say, there’s no other way out is there? Putting it before the D.C.I. is the best bet.”
She glanced down for a moment, popped his fiercely erect penis out of the front of his boxers. “I have to leave. Go far away. Go so far away that when H-M track me down, my family won’t be dragged into it.”
He looked back at her, tried to catch her eye. “Alright. But I’m coming with you.”
She shifted forward and guided him inside her. “No. Brian, you can’t do that. You don’t have to go down with this. It’s my mistake, my problem. You don’t have to ruin your life too.” Sinking down onto him, she let out a quiet sigh.
“I wouldn’t be… I wouldn’t be… I wouldn’t be… Fuck…” He gasped. “Wouldn’t be ruining it, I’d be living it, with you.”
“On the run from all the money in the world?” She lifted herself up. “With a wanted freak? What kind of life is that?” She plunged down onto him again.
“You think Hanley-Muller would leave me alone if you ran? If they’re as bad as you think, they’d tidy up loose-ends, wouldn’t they?”
“Well…” She shifted up again, holding the position where the tip of his penis was only just inside her.
“I’m not going to let you go anywhere without me.” He took a breath as she sank down again. “You know…” He gasped, took another breath, then continued. “You know, this might not be anything to do with Hanley-Muller. It might be something the D.C.I. knows about already?”
“What do you mean?” She bore down, squeezing him tight inside her, then relaxed and lifted up again.
“Woah…” He took a few breaths before he could answer. “But… Doesn’t it smell funny?”
“I hope you don’t mean me?” She grinned, then lowered herself again, moaning softly at the sweet sensation.
“How can you joke at a time like this?”
“What do you want me to do? To be? Should I break down and weep? Should I run around breaking things in a panic? Should I curl up silently in a corner?” She bore down on him, and his eyes widened. “I will not give in to this. I am going to beat it, if it can be beaten, and I am going to make the best of it I can.”
She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the lovely firm muscles. “Some of it, some of it is a fantasy, a dream come true. Or a nightmare. But if you’re worried about me, you should walk away. Really. I can handle this, for myself. I can deal with it happening to me, but how can I deal with what it could do to you, or Sarah? It’s done enough already.”
Brian took a loud gasp of air. “You could do just a little bit more.”
She threw her head back, like a laugh, but silent. “Now who’s joking?”
“It’s hard to think when you do this.” He breathed quickly again, preparing to speak. “After you ran that drug-lab raid, some supposedly unconnected dealer just happened to empty a pistol into you? You, an unarmed officer, when there were three other officers at the scene, and two of them were armed? Wouldn’t he shoot at the guys with guns first?”
Maeve closed her eyes, lifted up, then down again. “You might be mansplaining a little Brian.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
His hands sought out her engorged rubber breasts. It was like a fantasy, but it wasn’t sustainable. What kind of future could she have like this? No. She wouldn’t give in to that kind of thinking.
She lifted, descending slowly, letting her weight grind her down against him at the end, repeated the action several times before speaking. “Alright… I can’t remember anything beyond waiting downstairs for them to clear the place. Concussion messed my memory up, but I’ve wondered about it, sure.”
“I bet the D.C.I. has too. He told you to get that bottle of stuff you took away analyzed, didn’t he? And the next day…” He leaned in towards her breast, cupped his hand under it, lifting it up towards his mouth.
She pulled his hand away, gently, but firmly. “Don’t do that. It’s dangerous.”
Brian froze, she could feel the chilly tension in his body beneath her. “What are you on about?”
Maeve squeezed and pulled at her nipple, forcing out a blob of black fluid. “That stuff. It messes with your head somehow. Whatever you do, don’t get it in your mouth.”
Brian was still tense. “Is any of this safe?”
“We won’t know until we try, will we? It didn’t seem to hurt you last time, it’s just that... Ah, I’m just guessing. That stuff that seeps out of me, it messes with your memory, because you haven’t mentioned what we did. Or is something coming back?”
“No. Nothing. Though this memory thing, it worries me more than the tongue.”
“I thought you kind of enjoyed the tongue? Do you want to feel it again?”
The way he avoided her eyes, it was cute, embarrassment, even though they were having sex. At least he wasn’t afraid, she probably couldn’t have coped with that, no matter how tough she tried to sound for him.
She licked her lips, purposefully. “You know, I don’t remember either? Just saw the evidence. Maybe it works both ways, but I doubt it. I tasted it. It did nothing to me.”
She lifted up her hips and dropped again, nice and slow, pressing down at the end.
“Oh. Oh whoa. Oh… Keep going then. Keep-”
She leaned in and kissed him, no tongue this time. His hands moved to her breasts, and she didn’t stop him this time.
He broke the kiss. “This is alright though.”
“Just be careful of what gets on your hands.”
“Don’t worry. I will. I will.” He had one of her swollen aureoles in each hand, pulling and kneading at it. The thrill of it was making her light-headed, he was talking but she could barely hear it.
He went on, “-didn’t see the bottle. But when he got the news you were shot, he sent me to evidence to check on it again. Immediately.”
A voice she barely recognized, deep and husky was talking. It was her, her words, her thoughts, remote somehow. “I was sure he’d been thinking about it, even then. Drugs are just drugs, and they invent ten new ones every day, but looking back, that bottle… He was acting squirrelly about it. It was routine to have it analyzed, but it was booked out to him. He never goes to Patty’s office.”
For a little while, there was nothing but the rise and fall of her hips, the little twist as she settled on him, holding his head in both her hands, and her lips finding his. He was handling her breasts roughly, but so pleasantly. There was nothing uncomfortable about it but the need for more.
At last, she broke free of the kiss and whispered to him. “I was sure it was gone. If it was signed out to Ridley, it had to be missing. It had to be Patty.”
Brian shifted his hands to her behind, cupping the cheeks of her bottom so that he could help her up and pull her down.
“Damn, you’re so smooth, so firm, so solid, and yet so soft,” he said, squeezing her bottom hard. “It is like a fantasy. Like those pictures. I admit it. But it’s not normal. It scares me to death, and then I’m thinking ‘cool,’ you know?”
Maeve’s gaze shifted down. “It doesn’t seem to be impairing your performance.” She gave a wink.
“Even I’m surprised about that.”
She leaned down low, whispered in his ear. “Patty has worked there a long time. Since Ridley was a D.I.”
“You mean Patty’s responsible?” he gasped. “Responsible for the evidence store right? She’d get a world of pain over that.”
“Yeah. But Patty-”
He stood up, and she clamped her legs around his waist, holding on, impaled on his penis. His hands were supporting her bottom, but she put her arms around his neck and took some of the weight.
He turned around and then knelt, awkwardly, clearly because she was heavy, and lowered her backwards onto the fluffy rug. He lowered himself on top of her and began to thrust.
It seemed he was pounding away as hard as he could, but it was barely hard enough. Just hard enough.
She came before he did, and the orgasm washed over her, taking away all her tension and frustration. It didn’t stop, it kept on going as long as he kept on pumping. It seemed to go on forever.
At last, he tensed and finished, collapsing on top of her. Slowly, the pulsing, twitching tightness in her belly faded away, leaving only warmth .
“What was that? I couldn’t stop,” he said. He lifted himself up, arms straight, and stared down at her. “It was like I was caught on the edge but I couldn’t cum. I wasn’t quite there and I couldn’t finish, but I should have been able to. I thought I was never going to be done. Thought I’d run out of stamina before I managed it.”
Maeve made a warm humming sound. “Sure.”
“But what? Is there something wrong with me?”
She gave a long low sigh. “Maybe it’s an after effect or something. Who knows? Perhaps it will wear off over time?”
“So strange.”
“Never mind. Not like there’s anything we can do about it. I mean really, you’re worried? How do you imagine I feel?”
“I’m not sure. You seem to be taking this pretty well. Considering. I know what you said earlier but...”
“Oh please Brian. Have I ever been the hysterical kind?”
He laughed. “I guess not. Still…”
“Different people deal with things in their own way. I’ve seen that a lot. Not all female victims cry. Not all male victims are angry. To be honest, I don’t really believe all this. It just isn’t sinking in. It’s too much, you know? I keep thinking it will just sort itself out somehow. But maybe it won’t, and I’ll die. Well, maybe I’m running into extra-time anyway, after that shooting?”
Brian turned pale. “I’m sorry. I’m making this about me.”
She could feel the smile, unstoppable, “You’re sweet. You know?”
“I was trying to tell you something earlier.”
“Like what?”
“About Patty. She didn’t show for work after. Hasn’t been seen since. Did a runner, or, who knows? Nobody really bothered to follow it up because she’s a contractor.”
She ducked and rolled out from under Brian. There was a nasty black stain on the rug where she’d been lying. Stuff had leaked out of her crotch. “I don’t believe that,” she said, meaning the ruined rug.
“Well, maybe they did follow it up, and they didn’t tell me, because I’m not real police,” he said.
It seemed he’d misunderstood, but she didn’t bother correcting him.
“But you knew she was missing? Brian, why didn’t you think that part was important? You had weeks to tell me. No. I get it. I’m too fragile to handle it, right? That’s sweet, but it’s not smart.”
Brian looked away, suddenly intent on the black slime coating his penis. It had only softened slightly. “You were recovering from a hairline skull fracture and cracked ribs. I didn’t want to start a panic. It might have been nothing. She might have been sick, or met a guy, or got a better job. She could have turned up any time.”
“But she hasn’t.” Maeve shook her head, still thinking of the stain. Brian’s news was annoying too, and though she hadn’t know before, for some reason it didn’t feel like much of a surprise.
He wouldn’t let her catch his eye. “Sorry. Honestly, I’d forgotten about her until now. It’s not like it’s my business. I’m not a detective. I don’t solve crimes. I’m just another dogsbody contractor. Nobody tells me anything.”
“Seems like they tell you more than they tell me.” It was a little mean to say it, but he deserved to squirm a little after keeping this from her.
“Don’t be like that. It’s just the D.C.I. said not to bother you with anything until you were ready to come back.”
“That bottle huh? Patty knew more about it than she was letting on. Was oddly knowledgeable of it maybe? But I put it down to her typical messed up combination of poor-me and superior bitch attitude.”
“Oh. Right.” Brian paused, staring at his penis. “It’s not going down.”
Maeve explored it with her fingers. “It isn’t really hard though.” She explored a little more. Giggled. “Oh wait, it seems to be perking up already.”
Brian nodded. “No way.”
“Come on then. You can start on top this time.”
* * * * *
After they made love again, Maeve stood in front of Brian, basically naked, but she wasn’t embarrassed. She’d been sort-of naked in front of him since she’d taken off the gloves, scarf and coat. But he wasn’t even looking at her over-developed girly bits. It was worse than that. He seemed worried. Really worried.
“Look. What I think you should do is see the D.C.I. but if you’re determined to run off, I’m coming with you,” he said, giving words to the pained expression that was haunting his face.
“I haven’t made my mind up yet,” she said.
Brian had his back to the door. “I’m going home to get my stuff. Don’t leave without me. If you do, I will track you down and put myself smack in the middle of this. Promise me. Promise me you won’t leave.”
“I’m not promising anything. You can trust me or not, it’s up to you.”
“Dammit Maeve. Don’t leave without me. Please. Imagine what your mother would think if you disappeared?”
Maeve growled. He was right. She couldn’t just disappear. She hadn’t planned anything properly. She hadn’t thought anything through. But given what he’d told her, was she as safe at home as she’d imagined?
“Alright. I won’t leave without you. I promise. I wasn’t going to anyway, but it’s not your job to tell me what to do.”
“Just stay safe. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She looked into his eyes. Could he see what she was thinking? Did he understand? She wanted him to trust her, as he always had. She wanted to be worthy of it, but for the first time, she was lying to him. She wasn’t running away to protect him from Hanley-Muller, she was running away to protect him from her.
If she didn’t shag him to death, she’d be putting him in external danger. Trying to make a joke of it wasn’t working. It wasn’t really funny. They’d have sex again, but his erection still hadn’t gone away. And the last session had ended with an even longer ‘stuck’ period for him, where he was desperate to orgasm, but couldn’t manage it. Was it some kind of impotence? With that unstoppable erection she couldn’t call it that. Besides, not getting to orgasm was a feeling she’d had herself quite often, and maybe it wasn’t so unusual for a man to have it after all? But all that was detail, secondary, unimportant. There were bigger reasons why he wasn’t safe around her.
She could swear he knew she meant to go without him, but he was taking her at her word anyway. Up to a point. Probably, the magnitude of it hadn’t sunk in for him. That was no great failing on his part. Personally, she wouldn’t be surprised if it took the rest of her life to get to grips with it, though under the circumstances, there was no guarantee that she would last the week, or even the day. Estimating the duration of her future life had just become an extremely inexact science.
He kissed her, then pulled away. “Goodbye. I’ll see you later. Won’t I?”
“Sure, sure.”
The door slammed behind him. She sighed, stood watching for door for a while. He was gone. She didn’t have much time.
She poured herself a glass of milk, downed it in one, downed another, then headed to the bedroom. She hadn’t reminded him that Sarah was still here. Had she avoided it on purpose? No, it was just that he hadn’t asked. But she wasn’t sure, she couldn’t even trust herself now. That was the point, in fact.
Sarah was sleeping fitfully. Her mouth moved as if muttering words, but the only sound was her breathing, hoarse and wheezy.
Maeve’s skin started to prickle around her crotch. She put her hand over it, as if that could stop what was happening.
For no obvious reason, she had an intuition that Sarah would wake soon. She could wake her now if she wanted. She wouldn’t ask awkward questions like Brian. Another intuition, Sarah had drunk much more of whatever came out of Maeve’s unnatural, rubber-covered nipples. Was it dangerous, as she feared? Would Sarah ever be the same again? It was ironic that Maeve had such big plans to put a dent in the ero-drug trade, and now she was a walking illicit laboratory. It was hard to think of any other excuse for Brian’s persistent erection.
Why was she acting this way? So sorry for herself? Brian would be fine. Sarah would be fine. Maeve hadn’t been herself when whatever had happened went down. She had no idea who had drunk what. Though Brian had mainly been covered in Sarah’s secretions, and Sarah had been covered in Maeve’s black slime. Black slime that had been starting to evaporate off her and turn into droplets of light.
Sarah was still naked. Maeve hadn’t got around to dressing her.
Her long, rubberized nipples tensed, standing to attention. No. They were always at attention now. But they’d just got bigger, longer, more… Obscene? Explicit? Erect? The giant aureoles swelling with arousal.
Before she could stop it, her hand gave Sarah a rough shake. The woman mumbled incoherently and then her eyes snapped open, staring wide.
A disturbing smile spread across Sarah’s face. “I was dreaming of you, and here you are.”
“Sarah?”
“Please, I need you. Don’t leave, let me taste.”
Maeve’s forehead tightened. Before she could formulate a suitable protest, Sarah sat up and pulled her in, latching onto her nipple with a ferocious desperation.
Sarah sucked and a rush of pleasure washed over Maeve, spreading outward from her breast, down through her belly and turning into a crazy whirlpool somewhere around her sex. A disgusting moan came from her throat, a sound that was coming out of her all too frequently lately. Was it her, or the goo moaning? She couldn’t tell who to blame.
Maeve closed her eyes and let the feeling continue. It’s so good. Why shouldn’t I enjoy it? Sarah didn’t like women, did she? Neither did Maeve. She opened her eyes and pushed Sarah away. Her friend fell back onto the bed with a long, aching sigh.
No, Maeve didn’t like women that way. The idea of it was sickening.
Sarah had started to play with herself, one hand on her nipple, the other on her crotch. She squirmed and moaned, her face and chest flushed, nipples hard. Maeve hadn’t noticed it before, but Sarah’s breasts were quite large. Were they always that big?
Maeve turned away. Why was she even thinking about it? There was nothing attractive about a woman’s body, and the size of Sarah’s breasts was her own business, the sort of thing only men fixated on.
Maeve concentrated on Brian instead. His muscles were bulkier and more obvious than hers, even though she exercised hard. She had to keep up with men on the job, but it was exhausting, a lost cause. Competing with men that were half-again her weight? If they got hold of her, there was nothing she could do without a weapon. She should have transferred to firearms. A lot of the men she worked with spent too much time thinking about driving fast or hitting things, mainly people. Or worse, they had a thing for guns. So, she hadn’t wanted to be like that, hadn’t applied, even though she had the pre-requisites. Besides, the promotion prospects there were poor.
The image of Brian in her mind send her hand to her crotch. She cursed beneath her breath, because her fingers didn’t do a thing. She couldn’t stimulate herself. Her hand might as well not be there. She made an irritable noise. Sarah could rub herself into a frenzy, but she couldn’t do anything at all. She was so wound up. Already. Hadn’t she just been with Brian? Twice.
But she’d managed to masturbate before, hadn’t she?
The vibrator had worked. Why was that? Was the problem to do with the rubber covering her fingers? It didn’t make sense exactly, but maybe it was something like that. She just needed something that wasn’t part of her.
Maeve didn’t want to give in to the urge, but she had to know. She found a nipple and rubbed. Nothing. She pinched herself hard. Nothing. It was futile. She grabbed a handful of breast and kneaded. A tiny sensation. She grunted with frustration. No matter what she did, she couldn’t feel more than a little. How was it possible?
She glanced down at Sarah.
“Sarah is not a sex toy, and I am not a sex addict,” Maeve said to herself, aloud.
Maeve felt a prickling in her nipples again, then her crotch. It didn’t stop. Moments passed and it grew in intensity. She sank to her knees, arched her back until her head bumped the floor. It wouldn’t stop, but it wasn’t enough. It was like somebody, or something was trying to send her a message.
A very particular message.
If she wanted one of those amazing orgasms, the best way was to use Sarah to get it.
How could she be sure? There was no proof, and yet, she was certain.
If she gave into that urge now, she’d always be giving in to it, finished, beaten, a pliable addict that always gave in to her need. She’d have contradicted her own spoken denial.
The orgasms were nice. More than nice, they could stop the prickling from becoming a burning agony of desire. But she should be the one to choose how she got them and who she got them from. It didn’t make sense to be at the mercy of her skin.
But she did really want one. Sarah was more than eager to help her have one, or dozens. Over and over, until she couldn’t give any more. It wasn’t exactly fair to Sarah. Or was it? She was quite eager, wasn’t she?
Maeve clenched her fists, but she wouldn’t scream. She wouldn’t climb onto Sarah’s face. She wouldn’t do it.
An eternity of need. Release so close. In the background, the sound of the news at low volume and the soft moaning of Sarah fingering herself continued, as if from another reality.
“I’m not going to give in. This can go on forever now. I’ve made up my mind.”
The prickling sensation started to ebb away, leaving only an empty longing.
It was worse than the pleasure, worse than the burning.
As if to distract her, an image of Patty came to mind. The more she thought about it, the more obvious it was that there’d been something off about Patty that day.
And the bottle too. It had looked like an antique, not something a drug-cook would use to store ingredients. The contents had been thick, dark brown, like blood. Obviously, it wasn’t that, because blood clotted, but it had been a little creepy in some way she still couldn’t put her finger on.
Maybe there’d been another clue at the second lab, but the concussion had messed her memory up. Looking back, it was obvious something had been going on. Ridley had been looking over the picture of the first scene, and when he saw that bottle, something had changed in his expression. He’d asked her to expedite the analysis, but the system had been down. She’d meant to follow up in person right away, but she’d got distracted, hadn’t managed to talk to Patty until later.
So, if Patty was on the take, who was she working with?
Who else was in danger? Ridley? Brian? Her sisters?
She never posted anything on Friendface, but somebody inside the division, somebody like Patty, might have been able to get access to her records. There were contact details for next-of-kin there. Her mother…
story continued in part 9
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