Out of Mind

Chapter 30

Soft hands on his body, all over his body, brought him out of heavy sleep.

Total darkness obscured his surroundings.

He stretched, lengthened the muscles in his arms and tugged against bonds restricting his wrists.

The hands kept stroking. Starting at his eyelids, the fingers traced his face, hovering over his lips, one nail sliding just inside. “Welcome,” a husky female voice said. “You’ve slept a long time. Are you ready now?”

Ready? “Where am I?”

“Here with me, where you wanted to be, remember? You’re so shy and you were looking for someone very special to help you learn all the things you want to know.”

Fabio was naked in the blackness and stretched out on a mattress so deep it seemed to suck him in. When he tried to turn, he remembered his wrists were tied—to bars above his head—and discovered his ankles were also bound.

“How old are you?” the woman asked.

“Twenty-eight,” he told her, panic starting to flare through the thickness of his dulled consciousness.

She fondled every inch of him, his ribs, the heavy muscles wrapping around from his biceps, triceps, the deltoids and pecs. He tried to relax. His body was better than good, he knew that. Enough people had told him he should lift competitively, but he didn’t like losing, and if he wasn’t the best, the shame would send him back into his room and it might be so long before he could make himself come out again.

“Magnificent,” she said, cupping one of his buns. And she slithered to settle on top of him. Her body felt lush, her breasts large and the nipples hard.

He jerked his head to the side and ground his teeth together.

“You want to learn how to be with a woman.”

“I know how,” he said, ashamed that she knew something about him that he had kept secret.

“That’s not what you told me before you fell asleep. You said you fantasize about being with a woman who will do anything you want, but you were taught sex was dirty—when you were younger—and you can’t fully enjoy a woman.”

Since he was the only one who knew all this, he must have told her. It sickened him. He worked so hard to have the people he dealt with see him as a stud, a guy who could have any woman and had lots of them—frequently.

“Relax.” Her voice had a purring quality. “I’m not like other women. I don’t need you to lead me—I’d rather lead you, teach you. I’ll drive you wild and you’ll never forget how I did it. I promise you.”

All the time she writhed over him, massaged him with her body, brushed her breasts back and forth over his face, his chest and belly, his dick. He didn’t have anything to feel second-rate about there.

“Well, well,” she said. “You’re huge. And your testicles are perfect.” She weighed them, probing to feel their structure, and her hands closed around him and pulled rhythmically. “Have you reproduced?”

Fabio couldn’t clear his head.

“Do you have children?” she said.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Hell, maybe he did. Just because getting off took forever didn’t mean he had never hit the target. “Not sure. Could be.”

She laughed. “Your heart is here.” Her mouth opened over his right nipple.

“Other side.” Why didn’t she just fuck him? He wasn’t nervous anymore, and he throbbed like he was going to explode.

Her mouth went to the other side of his chest. “Do… Does everyone have a heart on this side?”

He frowned. “You’re weird. Sure they do. I guess.”

In response, her mouth replaced her hands on his penis and she worked hard enough to bring him to the brink before lifting her head abruptly.

“Don’t stop.” He panted.

“Nuisance about having to breathe, isn’t it?” she said. “Do you think humans always had to breathe?”

She was really creeping him out now. “What’s with you? Are we going to do it, or what?”

Her laugher rose steadily higher. “The drive for sex is so strong for your type.”

“My type?” He narrowed his eyes in the complete darkness. “What the hell is my type?”

“It’s just a figure of speech. We’re playing—it’s a game. Play with me. You and I are going to spend a lot of time together.”

For some reason he wasn’t so sure he wanted that.

“Tell me about your brain.”

“Untie my hands.” Caution made him hold his temper. “I want to show you a good time, too.”

“And you will, baby, you will. Forebrain, midbrain and hindbrain—I know this. But tell me about these things called hemispheres, the cerebellum—”

“Lady, I’m a bodybuilder, not some guy who cuts up bodies. I don’t know shit about brains.” And he was scared now.

“A bodybuilder.” With her knees, she pushed his thighs apart, not that he needed any persuasion. “And you work with flowers. That’s sweet.”

“I don’t work with flowers,” he said. “That’s Chris. I’m a master shopper. Anything anyone needs, I can get, and faster than anyone else.” It sounded like something a girl would do.

“How useful,” she said. “You have a lot of talents.”

Funny he’d never thought of himself that way. He felt wide-awake. “What time is it? How long have I been here?” And where was he, when did he get there, why was he there?

“Why do you die?” she asked. He didn’t know what to say.

“Do you all die? There must be some element you can use to make others die. Fascinating. I want to learn all about these things.”

His belly crawled. “Are you for real?” he asked.

She laughed. “I want to keep you interested for a long time so I’ll surprise you with my questions.”

Mewling sounds reached him. Like a cat, but not quite. A sheet of fur with spiny struts embedded, settled over his private parts and it jerked. Prickling, like pins, and very sharp, tapped at his belly and the mewling turned into a cracking whine.

He swallowed a scream and tried to yank his arms and legs free. There was no way.

A cry shocked him, like someone in pain. More cracking as if something was stretched wider than it ever should be.

Again he tore at his bonds, twisting his body from side to side. He felt blood running from his wrists. The bars rattled, but didn’t give.

Whirring followed, and air rushed over him, tousling his hair, cooling his skin. Small, hard ridges glided the length of his penis. He held still, terrified for what would come next. The whirring intensified, propellerlike, faster and faster, turning on his hardened, bursting flesh. He couldn’t control the mounting excitement, the intense roaring in his ears and the fire in his loins.

His hips rose from the mattress and he shrieked. Rods of white heat shot through him and his back arched up, trembled, pumped. Then he emptied, so fast he felt he would choke. At the same time the bonds were released, ripped away. What felt like claws rushed the length of him and, gradually, those big breasts replaced the blanket of fur and bony sinew.

“Just let yourself go,” she told him. “I want to kiss you.”

Her mouth closed over not just his mouth, but also his nose, and she sucked. At first he held her, rocking, trying to please her with his tongue, but then his arms were too short to surround her, his mouth so small it disappeared inside hers.

He was shrinking!

So quickly he couldn’t hold a thought, he got smaller and smaller and all the time she kept sucking at him.

His head was in her mouth and she kept drawing on him. He curled up into a ball, tried to protect the soft parts of his body.

The next sound was a pop. He flew away from her and landed in something grainy, began to sink.

Flailing, throwing his arms in circles and pushing with his legs, he fought to the surface.

A small light came on near him and he looked out through a distorted wall of thick glass.