The Truth Ch. 02

Her own fingers curled inside of her sex to encourage her toward orgasm. Olivia moaned. Drool dripped onto her papers. The muscles of her stomach trembled with anticipatory convulsions. She pumped harder. Just a little bit more. Climax burst inside of her. Her thoughts flooded out of her brain, thought her sex onto the chair.

They hadn't broken her yet. She tried to remind herself of that. She was strong. They hadn't broken her.

But they could. She shuddered at how easy it would going to be for Billy to make her into his wife if he wanted to. As long as his manhood was inside of her she'd do anything he asked. Her fingers were a poor substitute.

"Do you need any help?" asked Peter.

"No . . . I . . ."

"I think you do."

Olivia shook her head.

"That's not true," he said stroking her back, "or you wouldn't be masturbating. You need a man." The supervisor turned her head to kiss her. One hand crept in from behind to roughly finger her the way should couldn't bring herself to do.

"St . . ." Olivia's object was interrupted by a gasp. "Oh . . ." She tried to concentrate on her work and ignore what he was doing but it was no use. A few seconds later her body began to tense for another orgasm but he slowed down before she went over the edge. A squeak of disappointment escaped her lips.

Peter laughed. "Trust me, it is much more fulfilling to stay on the edge as long as possible. Relax. Hasn't your boyfriend shown you this?"

"Um . . ."

The supervisor continued to toy with her sex, never quite allowing her to climax, until she lost all track of time. She stopped thinking entirely, it only seemed to distract from what was really important. "I could keep you here all day," he told her, "but that would be a waste. You have work to do."

Olivia nodded.

"I think I'm going to finish you off now but remember this lesson. Getting to cum isn't as nice as building your way up to it. Edge yourself when you can. Okay?"

"Yes . . ." A few seconds later her body shook from another orgasm then went limp.

"Better?" asked Peter.

"Yes," repeated Olivia, slumped on her desk.

He gave her a slap on the flank. "Good. Back to work."

Burying herself in the copying she had to do for the rest of the afternoon just suddenly felt less like research and more like being forced to brainwash herself. She read and wrote lines of propaganda again and again and again until they were burned into her mind.

At the end of the day, drained and frazzled, she forgot to try and take a scrap of paper to write with when she left with Tristy for dinner.

"Do you know a girl named Apara?" probed Olivia.

"Maybe."

"I want to meet her."

"She'll be at dinner with everybody else," said Tristy, dragging at her hand. "Come on!"

The food at dinner wasn't any better than what had been offered for the other meals. Olivia idly considered seeing if Billy would give her something better to eat. All she had to do was make love with him to get a nice meal. She almost rose to do just that but as she turned she saw Apara on a bench some distance away. The young woman was bent double over the table, her utensils lay discarded on a half finished plate.

Olivia made her way over to the girl. "Apara?" she whispered. "Are you okay?"

The girl looked up lazily and nodded

"What are you . . ." Olivia stopped talking as she noticed the energetic motion of Apara's hand between her legs. "Stop that."

"Feels good, though. Keeps me sexy. Sexy and dumb." She grinned. "That's what Max wants."

"Apara."

Apara licked her lips while she continued to edge herself.

Olivia mimicked the expression without thinking. "No." It did seem appealing. Edging would make her happy. Get rid of stress. "No." She hurried out of the dining hall.

-)(-

The television in her room was still playing its ceaseless barrage of erotic propaganda. As she entered a film was starting. Too tired to do anything else she sat down on the bed to watch it. The imagery drew her in. So colorful and bright. Addictive.

A pair of women, each about twenty-five, were the focus of the film.

Saeka was the model of the perfect woman. Submissive. Playful. Ignorant. Hypersexual. The perfect woman as seen by the High Truth, at least. Everything Saeka did was decided by her body. The first scene showed her luxurious morning masturbating while she wrapped her lips around her husbands manhood to wake him.

Kinue was an outsider. Stressed. Educated. Misinformed. Ashamed. Where Saeka's enjoyed a simple life pleasure Kinue insisted on fighting her nature at every turn. She learned to read. She asked questions. She lied about her arousal even as her husband tried to help her.

The plot, such as there was one, compared the lives of the two women.

Saeka lived in a sate of mindless bimbo ecstasy, an idiot smile always plastered on her face, reciting the mantras of the High Truth at every opportunity. Kinue struggled constantly against the needs of her body, always insisting she didn't need a man or that she wasn't horny.

One scene contrasted the women alone at hone as the need to masturbate crept up on each of them.

Saeka gave in immediately she brought herself to the edge then stopped to let herself cool down before starting up again. She had incredible self control. The rise and fall of pleasure in her body made her glow with beauty. It was elegant the way the touched herself. A woman well trained to be in tune with herself. Eventually her husband arrived to quiet her mind while they made love.

Kinue tried to ignore her moisture on her sex and the heat in her skin. She gripped the table in front of her while her body betrayed her mind. Inevitably, she lost. Her self control disintegrated and she fucked herself like an animal. When her husband found her she was shaking on the floor in shame. He took her into his arms patiently and guided her toward a more fulfilling sexual experience.

She smiled softly at him as he stroked her hair in the afterglow of orgasm.

Every scene followed exactly the same pattern.

Saeka was submissive and happy. Kinue was recalcitrant and ashamed.

Olivia fell a sleep watching Saeka's smiling face while her husband fucked her stupid. The sound of sex, moans and pants, reminded her of the time spent with her young lover.

Like the night before her sleep was fitful at best. Lust plagued every moment of her dreams. Several times she awoke during the night, touching herself. Sweat and sexual juices had soaked her bed. The smell made her shiver more than the cold.

Early in the morning, before the sun had risen, she found her self lying on the bed.

They hadn't broken her yet. It had only been two days. This had to be the way she really felt. There was nothing wrong with enjoying her own body. She couldn't have been brainwashed in two days.

They hadn't broken her yet, she told herself. But they were going to.

For just a moment that didn't frighten her and she licked her lips indulgently as she began to fuck herself again.