Free Universal Carnal Knowledge Pt. 40

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Ultimate sex drug causes as many problems as it solves.
2.8k words
4.72
15.1k
1

Part 40 of the 46 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 11/06/2007
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XL

"I have to see Miss Smith"

It was my birthday and I wanted to enjoy it. I had worked very hard the day before, and I felt entitled to reward myself. I was going to have a nice, easy, relaxing day fucking whom I chose when I chose, with no conveyer belt, no rotas, and no surprises.

Things never work out as we plan them.

I had slept in the main bedroom with Florence and Kylie, who had arrived the evening before and who both, I felt, needed my attention. Florence had evidently been obeying my orders to eat; she was noticeably bigger and her monster of a bra was beginning to pinch her most uncomfortably. She looked much more at ease wandering the house naked, and the sheer size of her tits drew fascinated looks from the other girls.

As for other sleeping arrangements, I noticed that a certain pecking order, based on seniority, had tacitly asserted itself. Wendy came top, of course. As a much older woman than the others, as the chief organiser, and above all as my wife, she was treated with due respect by all the other girls. This was only to be expected, but I also noticed that the earlier recruits to my harem seemed to assume, and were generally accorded, a degree of priority. Fran was the head of this group but Connie, Gabby, Alicia and even Kylie found themselves deferred to and took advantage to claim the best sleeping quarters in the twins' rooms and the three guest bedrooms. With much bed-sharing about a dozen girls slept in relative comfort leaving all the others to find what resting-places they could in a variety of chairs, sofas, sleeping bags and, if all else failed, blankets on the floor.

Wendy exempted herself from the general rule of nakedness, either because of her status as my wife or because, as a woman in her forties, albeit looking very good for her age, she could not compete with the more youthful flesh displayed elsewhere. She wore a light summery frock well suited to a weekend in the country. Going clothed was her idea, not mine, but I decided not to interfere.

After breakfast in bed and a refreshing shower, I turned my attention first to the twins then to Elspeth and Yvonne, all of whom I wanted to thank for their efforts the day before. I had just carried the latter two off to recover and was relaxing with a cup of tea before inviting Gina and another (perhaps Olga, I thought) to join me. After that I might go downstairs and chat with a few girls and try to put a few names and personalities to the fleeting faces I remembered from yesterday. It was at this juncture, when I was feeling thoroughly smug and self-satisfied, that Fran rushed in with a look of alarm on her face and, what worried me even more, a handful of clothing. As she struggled into it she told me breathlessly there was a mystery woman outside. At that moment the doorbell rang.

Laura, for it was of course she, waited at the door with growing unease. Ever since she had arrived at her mother's house the night before, she had been haunted by a fear that she was about to make a monumental idiot of herself. Her mother had asked shrewd questions about her sudden decision to visit and Laura, feeling that it was impossible to explain the situation to anyone else, had been obliged to give vague and evasive replies. In the morning as she sat in her car in the driveway of her mother's house she seriously thought for a moment of giving the whole thing up and going straight back to Cambridge.

But the thought that she might thereby pass up a unique opportunity to discover what on earth was going on was even harder to bear than the prospect of making herself look foolish. "And there is something going on," she said aloud. "I know it." So she turned right instead of left and headed into deepest Surrey.

As Laura drove she reviewed the situation. That Elspeth was seeing an unsuitable man and lying about it she knew for sure, but by itself that was none of her business and would certainly not have brought her all this way to investigate. What was so disturbing about it was the way Elspeth's manner had changed in ways that were too sudden and dramatic for normal explanation. At the least, the girl must be on drugs of some kind, but she had never seen or heard of symptoms like these. And there was more to it even than that; Elspeth's responses to questioning had been not merely evasive but peculiar, as if she herself were confused. Laura's best guess, at this point, was that Elspeth had got mixed up with some cult, was probably in thrall to its charismatic leader, and was taking some sort of drugs it supplied to devotees. She was far from satisfied with this theory, which left far too much unexplained (Elspeth did not remotely fit the personality profile for involvement in cults. Why would such an organisation use the house of a leading City banker? What had caused Elspeth's sudden academic brilliance?). But for the moment she could come up with nothing better.

Laura was backing her instinct, too, her emotional intelligence. She did not share the disdain felt by most of her academic colleagues for "female intuition". She thought in its way it was every bit as valid and useful as more formal reasoning; the latter had the merit of producing definable and provable results but was (as she argued in her book) limited to matters that could be reduced to mathematics or very formal language. But women had a sensitivity to subtleties of expression and behaviour far too fine to be expressed in words; they should, she argued, show more confidence in this valuable aptitude and make more use of it. So this morning, she was following not only her intuition but her own advice.

She little knew where they would lead her.

When she reached the house she was disappointed to find that it lay at the end of a long drive. She stopped outside the gateway (there was no actual gate) and pondered what to do. Her hope had been that some activity would have been evident that was either so reassuring that she could drive off unnoticed or so alarming that she would be justified in taking some definite action such as calling the police. But there was nothing; all she could see was the house at the far end of the drive and a few cars parked in front of it. The green one looked like Elspeth's, but from this distance she could not be sure.

She did not want to enter the premises. She was terrified that Elspeth would suddenly appear with some totally innocent explanation of all that had been going on. How then would Laura explain herself? It would be bad enough being seen on the public highway: "Hello, Elspeth, what a coincidence! I just happened to be driving by." It would be a tough sell, but maybe she could get away with it. But, "Hello, Elspeth, I was just going for a quiet drive into the grounds of this private house," was hardly practical politics.

Nevertheless Laura, having come so far, could not back off now. Heart in mouth, she drove slowly through the gateway and up to the house. The front door was closed and, oddly on a lovely summer's day, the curtains of all the downstairs windows were drawn. There seemed to be no one about. Cautiously she got out and walked over to the green car. She could not be certain, since Elspeth's registration number was one of the few things she did not have in her head, but the car certainly looked like Elspeth's and it had a Cambridge City parking permit in the windscreen.

Laura peered at the car, then at the house. Suddenly she thought she caught the faint sound of girlish laughter. She approached the front door and listened intently. Were those voices, female voices, she could hear?

At this moment Fran, happening to pass the upstairs window and idly glancing out, was horrified to see an unfamiliar car outside. Warily approaching the window, she saw an unknown woman by the front door, standing very still, possibly listening for something. Fran grabbed her clothes and ran to find Wendy and me.

Laura had reached a decision. She had to come up with an excuse to ring the doorbell. The best she could think of was that her car had overheated and she needed water. Even now she hesitated a moment at the door. Yes, she was sure of it now; she could hear women's voices from inside. She rang the bell.

In the house the atmosphere was one of stealthy panic. Fran and I were hastily dressing in case we needed to confront this unwanted visitor; meanwhile Connie and Gabby were despatched to tell all the other girls to be quiet and to keep to the back of the house. I wished the twins were available, in case this was some friend or neighbour they would be able to get rid of, but they were in Simone's bedroom recovering from their recent fuck. Maybe, I thought, if we stayed quiet and kept our heads down the caller would go away. Wendy, Fran and I crept to the upstairs window and watched cautiously. At first we could see nothing of Laura but the top of her head, but then, tired of waiting, she stepped back a few paces and I got a better view of her.

Even then it took me a moment or two to associate the face I saw with the pictures on her website and the cover of her book. When the penny dropped, I almost followed its example. Reeling in horror I turned to the others. "It's Dr Stone!" I hissed. "What the hell's she doing here?"

I had told Wendy about Laura Stone after Elspeth's visit earlier in the week and now in hushed urgent whispers I updated Connie (who had crept up to see what was going on) and Fran. Their eyes widened in alarm. I sent the still-naked Connie to get dressed and the rest of us crouched at the window as Laura took another good look at Elspeth's car and paced up and down in front of the house.

She was, in fact, in an agony of indecision. She felt in her bones that the house was occupied; there were cars outside, and she had heard voices (although they seemed to have stopped now). If it was all innocent, why did no one answer? And yet, and yet, what if there were some humdrum explanation after all? It was a beautiful morning; maybe the occupants had simply gone out for a walk. Maybe the voices were a radio carelessly left on. Maybe she, Dr Laura Stone, had got herself all worked up over nothing and was about to cover herself in ignominy. But the drawn curtains troubled her; who would do that on a day like this? She walked up to the door and rang the bell, twice this time.

Her persistence was enough to convince me that she had more concrete grounds for suspicion than was in fact the case. I decided that Wendy and Fran would have to answer the door and get rid of her. I needed to stay in touch so I borrowed Fran's cellphone and dialled my own number, having put my phone on vibrate. Wendy then answered my phone and put it in her pocket so I could listen on the open line as she and Fran went downstairs and answered the door.

Laura was well on the way to persuading herself that the house was unoccupied after all, so the sudden opening of the door caught her by surprise. She quickly gathered herself and at a rapid glance took in the two women standing before her. She had hardly known what to expect -- outlandish figures in druidical robes, perhaps -- but she found herself confronted by a middle-aged woman with shortish dark hair and, standing somewhat behind, a much younger, very attractive redhead. They both looked entirely normal and respectable, but maybe slightly nervous, as if on their guard.

Laura had decided on boldness. "Hello," she said confidently. "I'm Dr Laura Stone, from Cambridge University."

Wendy was not to be out-bolded. "Hello," she replied with equal assurance, extending her hand. "I'm Mrs Wendy Walker."

Laura was determined to get inside the house. Advancing to shake Wendy's hand, she kept up the momentum and was stepping into the hall even as she asked, "May I come in, please?"

The suddenness of this move took Wendy by surprise but she tried to stay on the front foot. "What can I do for you, Dr Stone?"

"I believe a student of mine, a Miss Smith, Miss Elspeth Smith, is here," said Laura. "I'd like to speak to her, please."

Wendy dared not deny that Elspeth was on the premises since Laura had obviously seen her car outside, but she could hardly admit the girl was fucked into oblivion upstairs. She decided attack was the best form of defence. "It's a long way to come just to see a student, isn't it, Dr Stone?" she asked.

It was a good question. A lesser woman might have been deflected by it, but not Laura. "It's very urgent," she said brusquely. "Please let her know I'm here, Mrs Walker."

Listening upstairs in mounting alarm, I still managed to marvel at the incredible formality and politeness of this conversation.

Fran made a clumsy attempt to intervene. "Would you like a cup of tea, Dr Stone?"

This blatant attempt to stall her served only to goad Laura into even greater insistence, but she remained frigidly correct. "No, thank you. I'd like to see Miss Smith, please, now."

It occurred to Wendy that she could use the conventions of polite society to gain a few seconds' respite in which to think of some way to deal with this formidable woman. "Dear me, my manners," she reproved herself with an attempt at a relaxed smile. "Dr Laura Stone, Miss Frances Stewart." (It was only later, when we reviewed these events, that it struck us what utter folly it had been to volunteer our real names.)

Laura fumed inwardly as she was obliged to shake Fran by the hand. "Dr Stone", said Fran respectfully. "Miss Stewart," responded Laura frostily. The brief exchange gave Wendy long enough to decide that if this woman felt able to turn up at a strange house and barge in without a proper explanation, then she, Wendy, was also able to take up an unreasonable position and stick to it.

"Dr Stone," she announced firmly, "I'm afraid it's not convenient for you to see Miss Smith just now. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you back at Cambridge. I'll let her know you called. So nice to have met you, Dr Stone." She made an optimistic move as if to usher Laura to the door.

But Laura was not an easy woman to fob off. Besides, she was now convinced that something sinister was going on. "I'm sorry, Mrs Walker, but I've come a long way and I have to see Miss Smith urgently. I must insist."

Wendy had her back to the wall now. This woman was unstoppable. "I'm sorry, it's not possible," she said.

"What do you mean, 'not possible', Mrs Walker?" demanded Laura. "Why can't I see her? Is she ill?"

"She's indisposed," said Wendy desperately.

"Fine," said Laura. "You won't mind if I just satisfy myself of that." She took a stride toward one of the firmly closed doors that led to the rest of the house. Wendy and Fran moved to block her path.

Upstairs I had not been idle. As soon as it became obvious that Laura would not be easily got rid of I had hurried to Vicky's room where Elspeth and Yvonne were recovering. Unceremoniously hoisting Yvonne, fortunately not one of my heavier girls, over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and still holding the phone to my ear with my other hand, I carried her to the main bedroom. At the same time I told Connie to put Elspeth in Vicky's bed, as opposed to sprawled on top of it, so that her nakedness would be decently covered and the spunk oozing out of her would be concealed. Then I shut all the bedroom doors, except Vicky's, and hurried down the narrow rear staircase I had noticed when I checked the place out on Thursday (its original purpose, in an old house like this, would have been to allow the servants to pass unobtrusively between floors). It was as I entered the garden that I heard Laura expressing her determination to see Elspeth's condition for herself. Fearing that Wendy might feel obliged to try to stop her by force, I whistled shrilly into the phone.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 16 years ago
DR. STONE'S "HOUSE CALL"

I much enjoyed the detail of your descriptions of Laura Stone deciding whether to VISIT or NOT. Enjoyed the "pecking order" among James' "harem" and that Wendy chose to remain clothed. Yes, it was a bit "foolish" of Wendy and Fran to give Laura their real names - but no harm done IF Laura is "converted". I look forward to James' cell phone involvement in the conversation. I still feel that somehow Laura Stone might turn out to be immune to the effects of the potion, but - from your description of Laura's "disinterest" in sex in an earlier chapter in which she "doesn't see what all the fuss is about" - maybe Laura NEEDS the effect of the potion even more than most of the other "victims".

Billydee2Billydee2about 16 years ago
Love the Story

Time for the nosy Dr. to go down. She needs to be Blissed out

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