Ann Berrybush and the Elevator

She broke the kiss and sat straight up. She had just had a revelation. And an orgasm to go with it. If Tommy accepted her shame, how could it still have power over her? Reason must make short work of shame in the end.

Tommy watched in awe as she gently writhed on his leg. When she stopped, she gave him a smack on the cheek. "Tommy, you've given me yet another wonderful gift!"

He stared at her quizzically. She glanced down at his member. She was looking right at the source of his shame. She owed him a debt - to help him release his shame as he had helped her. Her lips returned to his and her arms wrapped around him.

"Sit back," she whispered in between kisses. She lay him down across the desk and gently came to rest on top of him. He throbbed against her stomach.

"Miss, no," he grunted. "I just told you what happens when you-"

"Shh," she quieted him by pressing her finger to his lips. Then she replaced the finger with her lips. She gave him the deepest kiss she had ever given. As he had warned, his fluids burst forth in a mere moment. His cream spread over their shifting abdomens. She imagined each squirt symbolized shame leaving his body. He shuddered beneath her with force. For him, there was no equal to spurting in Miss Ann's arms, especially in this state of undress.

When his orgasm subsided, though, embarrassment and anger crept in. He escaped from beneath her and slid off the desk. "I told you that would happen!"

"Tommy-"

"No, that was rude," he muttered as he picked the map up off the floor. "I'm so sorry, so sorry, Miss Ann. I better go."

"Don't, Tommy. It's all right."

He was already through the door with the map wrapped around him. It all had happened to fast for Ann. She sighed and lay back on the desk. She scooped up a glob of semen. No, it was not a clump of shame after all. She wished Tommy hadn't run away. They needed to have a good talk and he'd be in class tomorrow. But she wanted so much to have that talk now.

She reached for the tissue box and cleaned herself off. What a day this had been. Despite her humiliation, shame had not won the war. No, reason had shone through in the end even if it had not won a decisive victory.

She thought of Tommy again. Reason and shame were mortal enemies, but perhaps Tommy was an example of how the mental and physical could co-exist. His adoration of Ann allowed her to impart him with a respect for reason. In a way, the physical had led to the mental. Perhaps the Manichaeans had missed the positive aspects of the physical, even if it was inferior to the mental.

The physical was what she needed right now. She sunk her hand into her panties and began to rub. After what happened today, she knew she would be spending most of the night exorcising her lust. Thoughts of what Amber and Brandi were going to say to her tomorrow and what their next prank would be danced in Ann's mind. It seemed impossible for her to fantasize about anything but her humiliations.

Shame and arousal overwhelmed her body for the third time that day. Visions of the elevator accompanied her orgasm and continued to haunt her. She pounded her head. She wanted so much to feel that gentle shameless climax Tommy had given her again. But it was not to be. All she could think about was Amber driving her wild on that pole. Eros had not been sated. It would be a long night indeed.

She hopped off the desk and searched on the windowsill. Of course, the pole had not been returned. She made her way to the door. Was she actually about to go through with this? The door creaked open. No Amber or Brandi or boys. She kept on the lookout, though, as she made her way back to the scene of the crime. There was the pole, right next to the elevator doors.

She pulled her panties down and picked up the pole. The feeling of cold metal on her lips made her fantasy even more vivid. As she began to rub, she whispered, "No, you can't do this to me, Amber. Please don't."

As she pleasured herself with the device of her own humiliation, she wondered how this had all happened. It seemed as if she had been drawn back here by a conspiracy of Aidos and Eros, as if she had no free will. If she had no choice in the matter, there could be no shame for actions she had no control over. Yet was she weaker because there were actions she had no control over? If she had free will, she lacked the strength to exercise it and control her lust. Yet that also meant that there was a hope of overcoming it.

She must have free will. Without free will, there could be no reason. But that led to an obvious implication. "Have I chosen shame?" she whispered to herself.

Images of her clothes falling to tatters made it too difficult to reason right now, though. As she thrust against the pole harder, she had no idea whether she had been close to an important discovery or had just confused herself even more.

"What a load of nonsense," she said. Her orgasm struck and cleared her mind of everything but the thought of Amber forcing this pole between her legs. She crooned as if the crowd assembled here earlier had been watching again.

A little way down the hall, the wheels on the janitor's bucket squeaked as it rolled away from him. He had stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Ann. His bucket's momentum continued to carry it forward and his broom slipped from his hand. Ann looked up to see her watcher. The pole clanged to the floor just as the broom had. She squealed, pulled her panties up, and took off down the hall. Some things never change, she thought as she fled from the janitor.