All Things to All People Ch. 06

Dave woke early, anxious to see the results of the formula that had been concocted. He wolfed a quick breakfast down and raced to the science building. As promised, the viral compound was ready. He set up a test with several male mice, injecting them with increasing amounts of the brew. While keeping an eye on them for the next twelve hours, he caught up on the rest of his own work that had gone by the wayside while he had been injured and searching for Cynthia. Twelve hours later, he set up tests to determine how well the mice could tell subject alpha from the rest.

He had made the choice because alpha was one of the mice that was in heat. Placing each of the injected males in a maze with several ready females, he tested to see which they would go for. The last dozen would seek out only alpha, no matter what the separation was compared to the others. They acted like they could not smell the other females. Then he set up another test to see if the males could find food (they had been starved for the last twelve hours) and found that only two could.

Dave was ecstatic. He had not dared hope that the tests would be so successful so quickly. The viral compound not only enhanced the sense of smell in the rats, but sensitized them to the aromas of just the female that had provided the DNA base for the compound. The two that could still smell food, gave him a baseline for computing a human dose for Cynthia that would key her to a single man and still allow her to use her sense of smell for other things.

Cleaning up, he left the lab and headed for his car. He drove back to the city to look for Cynthia and tell her the good news. 45 minutes later, he as cruising the streets, figuring that the best place to start was with Gloria. He found her at her usual place, but Cynthia was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Gloria, where's Cynthia?"

"Damn dude, you should have kept her safe. She went and hooked up with Harold."

"Harold, who's that."

"Bad assed pimp. Hear tell she's being held in his special projects building. Why she come back? She seemed to have hope."

"Her boyfriend found out about her hooking and rejected her hard. She ended up being taken by the entire frat house and was broken. She thinks there's nothing for her but nameless sex with whoever."

"Man, that's harsh. How can a boyfriend do that? He ain't no better than the coldest john."

"Worst part, I found a potential cure. It won't fix it totally, but she'll only react without control to one guy. I've got to get her back. Where is this special projects building?"

"You can't go there man. Harold knows you talk to me and he'll not let you in, or worse."

"Hmm. I may have someone I can ask for help. He's never been here before. He should be able to get in. What's security like at the place."

"The rumors are that there's only one dude, big guy, to keep the girls in line. Since customers get anything they want, they never would tell and girls only come out when they be dead. This guy a marine or something?"

"Better. He's a master chemist."

"Chemist! What chemistry going to do against a bruiser?"

"Just you wait and see."

Darkness had fallen at the tenement. Cynthia's first customer had show up. Kitten roused and inhaled as he approached. Sensing what he wanted, she got on her knees, presenting her open mouth to him. He ordered, "Lick my cock, get it nice and hard. You get me with those teeth and I'll knock them out."

Kitten licked at his cock, tasting the sweat, the residue of not bathing for several days. As he hardened, precum leaked out and she licked it off the tip. She would lick at his head, then down and up the shaft as it grew slowly, occasionally sucking one of his balls into her mouth and gently squeezing it. He grew to enormous length, over twelve inches long.

Once he was fully erect, he grabbed her head and told her, "Open wide, bitch and choke on this." He slammed her head down on his cock, lodging his tip in her throat, blocking her airway. Her lungs tried to gulp air unsuccessfully, the motions stimulating his dick. Just as she was starting to pass out, he pulled her off, giving her a second to gasp twice before he repeated the action, choking her again. It went on like this for seemingly forever, choking until her vision blurred and then desperate gulps of air in the brief flurry of seconds he pulled her face off of him.

Even the near brushes with unconsciousness gave Cynthia that needed adrenalin rush to get back in control. Her hands came up, trying to push him away, but he grabbed her hair and slapped her face twice, hard, bloodying her lip. "Listen whore, I paid for you and you'll take it and like it or I'll beat the crap out of you and cum down you're unconscious throat. Now get them fucking hands behind your back before I break them!"

Terrified, Cynthia, out but unable to affect anything, did as she was told and endured the repeated near blackouts as he plunged himself deep into her throat. Hoping to get him off as quickly as possible, she worked her mouth, increasing the stimulation on him as much as possible. When he finally came, he held himself deep in her throat, pouring his spunk directly into he throat, bypassing her mouth altogether. When he pulled out, she coughed and gagged, cum threatening to go down her windpipe. By the time she looked up and could see, he was gone, leaving her crying on her knees as Cynthia fled back inside herself, freeing Kitten once again.

Three hours later, her life would change again. This customer had paid an extra premium for what he wanted. As Kitten watched, he set a small mirror on the bed and emptied a packet of white powder on it. Using a business card, he arranged the powder into lines. Inside, Cynthia recognized lines of cocaine. Terror hit her, not having any idea what another drug being introduced into her system would do with her already drug damaged physiology. She wanted to force her way out, but the fear level was not enough, there was not the fear of imminent death. Helplessly, she watched herself, under Kitten's control, snort a line of coke into each nostril along with the man.

Five seconds later, kitten lost all sense of smell, her nasal linings seared by the drug. Her mind went into overdrive, the powerful illegal stimulate sending her synapses into overload. Kitten was in a panic, desperate to retreat from consciousness, but the hyper-activated cells would not let her. The man was laying her on the bed and beginning to caress her, actually trying to make love to her while she was experiencing this high.

Inside their head, Kitten was begging for help.

{Cynthia, Help!} {Kitten, swap, get in here.} {I can't. I can't go away.} {What's wrong? What's stopping you?} {I don't know. Help me.}

Cynthia could feel the effects of the drug, even inside like she was. It occurred to her that if the drug could reach inside like this, maybe she could reach out. Drawing on an imagery technique she had learned about in a psych class, she called out to Kitten.

{Kitten, reach out to me.} {How?} {Imagine you have arms and reach down deep inside and try to grab my hand.}

Kitten felt a reaching sensation as she tried to do what she was asked. Cynthia reached up in her imagination, feeling for Kitten's hand. In their mind's eye, they clasped and pulled, Cynthia rising up while Kitten did not sink inside. In Cynthia's brain, the guided imagery she employed managed to briefly control the effects of the high, linking two areas of her brain that had separated over time. Cynthia and Sex Kitten merged into one mind, leaving Cynthia as a single person again, with the full capabilities and limitations of both previous parts.

The whole person was able to ride to the drug induced high and partially enjoy the more intense than normal sensations from her pussy and tits. Ironically, her orgasm was almost unnoticed in the chemical euphoria that was in effect at the time. She was not even aware of the man leaving or Mike looking in to see if she was still alive, or the other times to check on when she had come down. It was four hours before she was normal again, thinking to herself, "That was a rush. I hope I never get that again, or I just may want it too much."

It was thirty minutes after that when her next customer showed up. This guy was different. She knew him! "Jarvin? What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing the fair maiden, of course."

"But, how do you plan on getting past Mike?"

"Oh, was that his name. He should be out like a light. Better fighting through chemistry," he said, peeling a pair of latex glove off of his arms.

"Jarvis, what was on those?"

"MDH. That idiot out there is out like a light and won't remember a thing."

"You laced a date rape drug on gloves and shook hands with him?"

"Yep. Ain't chemistry wonderful? Now, careful, we don't want any concentrated hydrochloric acid on your neck."

He extracted a glass vial and dripped the viscous fluid onto the lock. Several seconds of sizzling later, the lock gave way and Cynthia was free. Taking her hand, he started to lead her out.

"Wait. There's others. We have to get them out. You have your van, right?"

"Yeah. But where will we take them?"

"Leave that to me."

They found five other girls in rooms, all needing to be freed, four of which were so listless and beaten down that they had to be led by the hand. The fifth still had fight in her and was able to assist. Outside, they loaded up everyone into the van, though there was a shortage of clothes to go around. Dave was in the van waiting.

"Cynthia, it works, the cure works."

"Cure. You found one?"

"Mostly. We'll talk when we're alone."

"Jarvin, drive to 25th and empire. There's a woman's shelter there."

"On it."

Jarvin drove to the shelter, parking next to the door. Cynthia led the five women into the shelter, the small bell ringing familiarly as it closed. Footsteps approached and Sister Anne looked at Cynthia and the girls in shock for a moment, the yelled, "Elizabeth! We have a code blue!"

To Cynthia, she asked, "So what brings you back to our home with five naked women in need of shelter?"

"We were in Harold's slave house. We escaped with the help of some of my friends."

"And what of you?"

"I'm whole again, though my problem is still there. There is hope."

"Dear, there is always hope, until we give up on it."

Liz rounded the corner, dragging the box of clothes. "Oh. Showers first. If you ladies will follow me, we'll get you cleaned up." The 14 year old took charge like she always does, herding the ladies upstairs to the showers. Leaving the capable one in charge for a minute, she rushed back downstairs and ran to Cynthia.

"I was so worried about you. Are you okay? Are you still hooking?"

"Liz. I'm glad to see you. I'm fine, better even. And I'm leaving hooking. I've got my memories and my hope back. I'll be fine. You've been good?"

"Of course. If I wasn't., the place would fall apart. Are you staying?"

"No, I've friends outside waiting. Waiting to take me home. I'll try to visit, volunteer some time to repay what I've been given."

"Got to go. They won't know what to do." The energetic girl raced off again, leaving Sister Anne and Cynthia alone.

"Sister, I really believe that your prayers helped protect me. When I have time, I'll stop by and let you know how they were answered."

"I'd appreciate that. And God has used the evil that came to you to do good. God bless you."

Cynthia left and got back into the van. Dave gave her a cough drop and they drove her to her apartment. After promising to not run off again, Cynthia went up to her apartment and went to sleep, not waking until mid afternoon.

Cynthia dreamed. Rob was holding her in his arms, caressing her naked back. Her own hands were returning the caresses, one rubbing up and down his back while the other ran through his hair. They were dressed for the beach, he in a tight swimsuit, barely holding him in. Her bikini top held her handful sized breasts firmly, the nipples poking through. The bottom covered just barely enough to be decent while riding up into the crack of her ass. He brought his lips to hers, kissing her slowly, not quite with open mouths.

The surf washed over their feet, it's cold caress a counterpoint to the heat emanating from their bodies. The sand between their toes oozed over their feet, sinking them gently into the muddy mixture as they sank into each other's senses. Cynthia bent her lips to his neck, planting little kisses and love bite there, a low growl of passion rumbling in her throat. He pulled back, giving her better access, groaning at each touch of her lips and teeth. She gripped him close, gripping his head and back, almost as if in fear that he might vanish if she let go for an instant.

Then she crouched down, playing her tongue over his nipples, swirling them and sucking them into her mouth. Each one in turn, received exquisite attention, as if each were a little cock and getting to cum in her mouth. She would lightly drag her teeth over the areolas and nipple, sensing shivers of pleasure through his body. His hands supported her back as he leaned forward, bending her at the waist, giving her more unfettered access to his superfluous organs.

She descended even deeper, dropping to her knees, her face coming even with his trapped manhood, straining against the silk cage holding it in. She licked the length of his shrouded cock, feeling it tense off and on in response to her ministrations and the promise of more. Her hands grabbed handfuls of ass cheek, pulling him closer, letting herself turn her head sideways and engulf his shaft, still in the suit, her teeth pressing playfully on the fabric. She could feel the heat radiating from him, warming her already warm mouth.

She pushed him onto the bed (the change from beach to bed making perfect sense in the dream), grabbing his shorts and pulling them down, freeing his cock from its prison. Precum was smeared across the tip, an inviting aroma that she breathed in, smiling. Sticking her tongue out, she licked the delicious fluid off, tapping a seemingly unending flow as each lick brought more out to be licked off in turn. Frustrated at the slow pace, she engulfed his cock, pumping her head up and down its length, her lips tight, milking every drop of the clear fluid it could.

Hands reached down to her head, holding her, caressing her hair as the cock in her mouth grew even larger, filling her completely. She welcomed the feeling, savoring the taste of his skin, the musk produced by his balls and cock. Unable to push up against the hands that held her down, she sucked on the cock, swirling her tongue around it, enticing it to release it's store of nectar. She could hear moans of pleasure, unsure whether they were from him or her, just knowing that the sounds themselves were arousing, driving her own pleasure even higher. Her naked cunt (she cared not how it got that way) was dripping juices down her legs, leaving slick streaks along the inside of her thighs, adding her own scent to his, the combination as intoxicating as wine.

He was thrusting against her face now, an urgency building, as his climax approached. Her own ministrations grew more agitated as well, her tongue demanding the taste, the promised taste of ambrosia that was mere inches away, but locked tight against accidental consumption. Both their voices were crying out, his loudly, hers muffled by the gag of flesh and blood and almost cum that filled it. When he came, it was as if his cock exploded in her mouth, filling her with warm salty honey. In spite of the seemingly impossible quantities, she spilled not a drop, her mouth filling and expanding to hold everything.

The still erect cock eased itself out through her clenched lips, leaving his entire load in her mouth to be lovingly swallowed, a drink as precious as the rarest wine. His cum seemingly energizing her, she crawled up on top of Dave (the change from Rob to Dave seemingly natural and right), lifting her pussy to be speared by the pole standing erect from his waist. She bent down, staying impaled, to kiss him and share with him the residual taste of his (or was it Rob's) cum still on her tongue. His hands gripped her ass and he began to slowly, almost imperceptibly, thrust himself in and out of her.

Their kiss did not end, each unable to give up the wondrous sensations of their tongues dancing with each other in a slow waltz. There was no urgency here, only a desire to live this moment of heaven to its fullest. Slowly, their mutual arousal built, sensation upon sensation. His cock thrusting against her pussy lips and womb. His pubic hair fondling her clit lightly. Her breasts rubbing against his chest, the erect nipples playing footsy with his nipples. Each pair of hands wandering, exploring the lesser known parts of the bodies, looking for new and unusual ways to bring pleasure to their lover. When their climaxes came, they trembled in the strong, yet gentle embrace of each other. As the dream faded to black, Dave and Cynthia each murmured expressions of undying love to one another.

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While Cynthia slept and dreamed of two lovers interchanging themselves, the last traces of cocaine in her system worked one more change on her mind. The focus that her center of smell had was loosened somewhat, broadened in its ability. This change could have worsened her dire circumstances but for the unique opportunity it provided her. But would she take that opportunity, to risk her future on a single roll of the chemical and biological dice?

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While Cynthia slept, Dave wanted to check on the mice in the lab one more time. Using the access pass that all doctoral candidates had (experiments that could give you your doctorate are not nine to five events), he entered the dark building with something nagging at his mind. Inside, her felt hope for Cynthia steal away from him. The test mice were dying, some already dead. Had he given his friend false hope? Refusing to give up, he worked through the night and morning, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Every test he ran told him the mice should be alive, yet they were laying down and dying. Exhaustion overtook him at 2 PM and he fell asleep at the desk, his notes scattered on the table in front of him.

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"Wow! That was some dream. Where did that come from?" Cynthia had awoken and was marveling at the sheer eroticism of the dream she had had. She had taken enough psych classes to know that, while dreams didn't have meanings per se, they were attempts by your mind to sort through the events of your life. She had no trouble figuring out at least part of the meaning. Dave had replaced Rob in her life. Rob's betrayal was a willful act on his part to leave her and Dave had been there for her the whole time.

Anxious to see what Dave had in the way of a cure, she showered, dressed, wolfed down a ham sandwich and headed out the door, the ubiquitous cough drops in her mouth. She wanted to experiment with smelling someone now that Sex Kitten ad her were re-united, but that would have to wait. The last thing she needed was another sexual escapade. Of course, if they were all like her dream, she would welcome them.

The trip to the science building was uneventful, the eucalyptus having the desired effect. She arrived at 3 in the afternoon and found Dave sleeping at the lab desk, papers strewn about, possibly when he collapsed. She had seen this before, someone working so long that they passed out from lack of sleep. The professors didn't like it, but it happened. No one had been hurt in such collapses, seeing as they usually happened during write ups, not the experiments themselves.

Shifting through the papers, her heart dropped as she took in the results. As they had discussed two or three days ago, the cure wasn't a cure, but a way to lock her into just one man, instead of all men. That wasn't the problem, she could live with that. It was the deaths. It seemed the mice were dying off for no discernable cause. Nothing Dave had done over night had brought any clues to light. Her cure was worthless, unable to do anything but kill her.