Waiting for Purple

"Hmm..." said Ken, noncommittally.

"Do you think it could be her?" asked Lisa.

"I suppose," mused Ken. "Stranger things have happened."

"Well, if you ever get out, it sounds like you are a very lucky man."

After Lisa and Ken had made love and Lisa left, Ken looked at the ceiling musing about Akshi.

"That 'a girl Akshi," he muttered to the air. "If you're going to do it, do it right."

He was, surprisingly, not jealous. He was more aroused at the idea.

He knew that Akshi didn't have a choice. It was either do it right or get zapped. From the sounds of it, she was doing it as right as she could.

His number kept growing. He did not know days or nights, but he knew partners. He reached ninety with eight zaps (so, eighty-two successes). Still, he wondered. Would one-hundred mean freedom?

Before he got to there, he received his biggest surprise.

He boarded an elevator and it began to ascend. Then, he felt the sideways motion they'd learned to identify. At first, they had all thought they were in some gigantic tower. Later, as one woman put it, the place was 'all Wonka'd out.' Like Charlie's glass elevator, these mechanisms went up, down, and horizontal. The frightening aspect of this was the sheer number of people that might be there. The number of inhabitants was impossible to fathom.

As for the surprise, Ken stepped off the elevator and into the room. The light was already yellow.

"Come on, dude," said a voice from around the corner. "We're short on time."

The voice was hauntingly familiar.

Ken stepped around the corner and there she was.

Sarah.

She was just as beautiful as ever. She was laying on the bed, head propped up on one hand.

She took him in from the feet up. He saw a slight hint of surprise in her eyes as she reached his waist and torso, and then the full surprise when she took in his face.

"Kenny!" she cried.

She was out of the bed in a minute and leapt into his arms. He held her there, her legs wrapped around his waist and they kissed tenderly.

The light was light blue.

She cried and buried her face into his neck.

"Oh Kenny," she sobbed. "I'm so sorr..."

"Don't," said Ken in a stern tone. "Don't you dare apologize. We've all done what we've had to do. Don't ever, ever apologize."

They slid into bed, touching each other in ways that were instantly familiar.

"So, how long did you last?" she asked. "Before, you know."

"I guess you'd say one and a half," said Ken. I thought about holding out on number two, but she didn't give me any choice."

He told her about Donna and her rough play. Sarah nodded with understanding.

"I only lasted one," she said softly. "After that first zap, I couldn't. I just couldn't.

What's your number?" asked Ken.

"Eighty-seven," she said.

"Ninety-three," he replied.

"That's one thing that doesn't quite make sense to me," she said. "It seems like we all got here at around the same time. How are the numbers so different?"

Ken told her his theory about categories and personality types.

"It depends on that," said Ken. "Even without a clock, I know that a talker takes at least a half a day, sometimes longer. Lusties are always quick, fighters, too. I think part of it is the luck of the draw of who you get."

"True," said Sarah. "Of course, I don't know about Lusties. I met one guy and we kept each other at the edge for about a day, I'm pretty sure. I'm telling you, the way he knew how to keep me right there..." she trailed off, embarrassed. "Oh, god. I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"It's fine, Sarah. What else are we going to talk about?"

"I guess you're right," she agreed.

The light was drifting back through yellow. She looked up in alarm and kissed him.

"So Ken, are we going to do this thing?"

Bodies learn each other. With Ken atop her the muscle memories quickly flooded back for both of them. Their hands knew the spots to find, their lips knew the places to kiss... but something was missing.

After several minutes, and the light still threatening at orange, Sarah stopped and looked deeply into Ken's eyes.

"Ken, what's her name?"

"What?" he said. "What do you mean?"

"The girl who has your heart now? What's her name?"

Ken looked down in shame. He was unable to look Sarah in the eyes.

"Akshaya," he said quietly.

"What a beautiful name," she said.

She lifted his chin to force him to look in her eyes.

"Remember what you said, baby," she said softly. "No apologies. All I know is this is different. We're not making love right now, we're having sex. And, judging by the color of the panel, we'd better do some real fucking if we want to escape the zapper. Come here, I have an idea."

She rolled off of him and laid on her side, facing away from him.

"Remember how much we used to like this, sweetie?"

He snuggled into her and she reached between her legs to guide him into her.

"Oh god yes, I remember this," she sighed.

They started out gently. Ken's hand reached around to caress her breasts, his lips kissed her neck. The angle was perfect and their bodies fit together wonderfully. As Ken began to thrust harder, the panel faded again to yellow and then into green.

"That's it, baby," she moaned. "When you walked in this room, little did you know this was going to be a closing fuck."

The legendary closing fuck. The one final fuck that most relationships had; break-up sex. Due to the insane circumstances, they were now officially broken up and were forced to have breakup sex. The also needed to make it good.

Ken's hand drifted down her belly and further below. With ease, he found her clit and began rubbing with the perfect circles he knew would drive her crazy.

"Oh God, Kenny. You haven't forgotten, have you?"

His other hand snaked below her body and wrapped around to find her breasts again. Between his fingers on her nipples and his other hand working her clit, she was moaning and groaning uncontrollably.

"Fuck yeah, Ken," she growled. "Keep it up. Oh yes, right there, right there, right there!"

The climax ripped through her body. Her hips bucked back against him in almost seizure-like spasms. He pulled her close against his body and smiled at the feeling of her tremors.

"Oh my god that was amazing," she sighed when the last spasms left her panting and exhausted in his arms.

The light was indigo, but with a tinge of lighter blue. Sarah reached over her shoulder and kissed him tenderly.

"Looks like I need to take care of you now, baby. Why don't we keep this party going the same way."

She pulled off of him and then rolled up onto her hands and knees.

"Let's see how sore you can make me, Kenny," she said.

Ken raised up on his knees and needed no guidance to slide his cock into Sarah's well-moistened interior. They began moving slowly and then picked up the pace. He was somewhat reserved at first, but Sarah would have none of it.

"Come on, baby," she said. "Don't hold back. Fuck me."

"As you wish," he said with a grin.

He pulled back and waited for a second or more. They both knew what was coming. The excitement was the anticipation of when.

Smack.

Ken's hips slammed into Sarah's ass so hard he could see the shock waves roll through her body.

Slam.

Sarah gasped out with the surprise and pleasure.

"Oh god yes, fuck me Ken. Keep fucking me."

Ken did just that. Soon, he backed off on the strength of his thrusts and traded the force for an increase in speed. Sarah's ass was red from the repeated impact of his hips against it, but she didn't complain.

After several minutes of that, Ken heard a familiar tone in her voice and he backed off slightly.

"Do you want it?" he murmured.

"I... I don't know if I can take it," she whispered.

"I didn't ask if you could take it," said Ken. "I asked if you want it."

She looked back at him and nodded with a plaintive look on her face.

Ken knew just what to do. He began pistoning in and out of her pussy, but he was no longer hitting her ass. Instead, he was working his cock in and out in short strokes, perhaps an inch or so at a time. The shortness of the strokes allowed him to move even more quickly. The effect was evident upon Sarah. She dropped her head down and rested it on the pillow, moaning with ecstasy.

"Oh my god, that's it, Ken," she rasped. "Don't stop. Don't stop. Oh!!!"

She came so hard she couldn't even stay upon her knees. Falling down upon her belly, Ken fell atop her and kept working his cock as she came again and again. He knew there was practically no limit to how long her climax might last in this fashion.

The light was deep blue with shades of purple drifting in. It was evident Ken could continue this for as a great while longer. All that remained was his own climax.

"Oh Kenny," moaned Sarah. "I don't know how much more I can take. Let's finish this."

She raised back up on her hands and knees and squeezed his cock hard with her pussy.

"Hey, do you remember what we used to do before I was on the pill?" she said.

"Yep," said Ken. "Condoms and then I'd pull out, rip them off, and cum on you."

"Or the times we risked it and you'd pull out. Come on, Ken. One more time."

Ken didn't have far to go. He'd been holding back for a while and all he needed was to let his system go. He took Sarah from behind for a few more wonderful thrusts and then groaned as he felt his body tense.

"Yes, Kenny!" cried Sarah. "I can't wait!"

She slid off of him and actually dropped off the bed. Ken kept hold of the base of his cock, squeezing to delay his ejaculation.

"Come on, baby," she whispered.

He slid off the bed and stood over her. She eyed his rigid and slickened cock hungrily.

"Cum for me, Kenny. Cum in my mouth and on my tits. Cum all over me."

He did exactly that. The first blast sprayed into her mouth and she let it pool there as she moaned with pleasure. His next spray hit her chin and then poured down over her breasts. It still wasn't enough for her, however, and she leaned back.

"You missed a spot," she said, indicating her pussy.

Ken aimed his last major blast in that direction and he painted a white trail from her belly down to between her legs.

"Well done, my love," she moaned.

She swallowed the remnants in her mouth and then stood to kiss Ken tenderly.

"We'll work this out," she said tenderly. "If we get out of here, we'll make it all work. We might not be in love anymore, but I still love you. See you on the other side, I hope."

"You bet," said Ken.

"And, I've got to go," she said.

She'd just gotten the message.

"Do you want to wash up?" he asked.

She looked down at the trails of cum dripping down her body.

"Hello no," she said with a grin. "I can shower at the next stop. Besides, it'll give the guy an idea of what he's in for."

"He's in for a treat, that's for sure," said Ken.

"Don't I know it," she said.

He watched her go.

Sadness wasn't the proper word. Regret, possibly, but not sad. Their world had been turned too upside down for sadness. Their minds were too numb to do sad.

***

#137

Ken tried to do the math in his head. They were allowed to sleep a normal length of time. Some partnerings lasted just a few minutes and others lasted what had to be a full 24-hour day. As close he could figure, he was averaging one and a half partners a day... but there had been many rest periods. Those had been times where he'd been allowed time by himself. Books had appeared in the room. Television screens had appeared. They didn't show any news or other outside sources, but they did show sitcoms and movies. 1.5 partners a day, take away breaks, it came out to more like one a day. One hundred and thirty-seven, so he'd been in the asylum for over four months.

It was getting easier.

There was something happening. There was some sort of pattern occurring. He had been with over twenty-five partners without meeting a fighter and the other varieties had started to emerge in a pattern. Lusty, Bodice-ripper, Talker, Talker. Lusty, bodice-ripper, talker, talker. Then it was three Talkers in a row, then four, with them becoming the norm. He asked some of them if they had seen something similar.

Number 137, Graciela, Grace, a young sexy Latina housewife from Indiana, mused on that.

"I was a fighter," she said. "My husband Herman and I were really into the dom/sub thing, and get this, I was the dom. I started out in here playing those games, but I'd say that at about my number 50 or so, I got tired of the game. I guess you'd say I became a bodice-ripper then. I just wanted to kiss and be held. By number 80, I turned into a talker. For all I know, we're down here forever. If this is my lot, I'm at least going to get to know some guys."

Her thoughts echoed Ken's exactly.

They talked for a while more, but her comments about how she started got Ken's wheels spinning. As they talked, he slowly put things in place.

Ten minutes later, she found herself face down on the bed, her hands tied to the headboard.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she asked.

"So, you're a fighter?"

"I was, but not so much any more. And I like to dominate, not be dominated, motherfucker."

She threw in several more choice curse words in Spanish.

"Sorry, no habla Spanish, chica," said Ken.

"What do you want, damn it?" cried Grace.

"I want you to suck my cock, Grace, isn't that obvious?" he said.

Grace's eyes were flashing with a mix of anger and amusement. She knew it was a game, but she wasn't necessarily happy about playing it.

"I would have sucked your cock," said Grace, "and you would have loved it. But now, you can forget about these lips getting anywhere near that dick."

"We'll see about that," said Ken slyly.

He had not tied her feet to the footboard. He knew that would make things easier, but he wanted to experiment with his companion.

"Spread your legs," he said coldly.

"Fuck you," she said through gritted teeth.

They had all developed a sixth sense when it came to the panels. He was very aware that the light had shifted from green toward blue. She was enjoying this, counter to what her lovely mouth was saying.

"Spread your legs," he repeated again.

She was still not amenable.

"So, you want to play it like that," said Ken.

His hand came down with a hard smack on her shapely ass.

"Ow! Fuck, Ken. Stop it."

"I could gag you," said Ken, "I could ask them for a gag, but I like to hear you complain. Just keep it talking."

That shut her up. Her mouth clamped shut and she closed her eyes, not even looking at Ken.

Another hard smack fell on her ass. Now, the only sounds were the slap of his hand and her deep intakes of breath with each spank.

Smack.

Her breathing quickened.

Smack.

She gave a barely perceptible moan.

Ken followed with several rapid smacks. He didn't spank her as hard, he knew he didn't need to. Her ass was already sore.

He lowered his mouth to her ear.

"What did I tell you to do?"

Her legs, which had been tightly closed together, spread out into a lovely 'V' shape on the bed. Below her reddened ass, her moist pussy was now clearly visible.

Ken bent down and examined her lovely privates. His mouth was an inch away from her labia and she knew it. He could feel her heavy breathing through the mattress.

He reached down and lifted her a slight amount, giving her enough leverage to roll her hips up and give him an even better view.

He kissed her red ass cheeks tenderly and she moaned from the pleasure. He kissed down and to her thighs and then back up toward her pussy. He paused there, letting his warm breath wash over her lips. He waited.

"Please."

The word was barely audible.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I said, please," she said.

"Please what, Grace?"

"Please lick my pussy."

"Please lick your what?" asked Ken.

She knew what to say.

"Please lick my cunt," she whispered.

"Like this?"

His tongue brushed lightly over her labia.

"Harder," she moaned.

"Harder what?"

"Harder, please."

"I'll tell you what," he said. "I've never been all that comfortable with the master/slave thing. Isn't the Spanish word for boss, 'jefe'?"

"Yes,"

"Then why don't we use that?" he suggested.

"Please lick my cunt, Jefe," she whispered. "Please lick it harder."

He complied. Soon, she was writhing with pleasure as his tongue worked its way from near her clit and downward (or upward, in that position) to the other side of her dripping pussy.

She almost came... almost, but Ken stopped several times with her at the very brink.

He stood up and walked to sit beside her.

"Do I own you yet?" he whispered into her ear.

She didn't speak, but could only shake her head slightly side to side.

'No' said her lips.

"I didn't think so," he said.

By now, most beds had ropes permanently attached to the headboards and footboards, as well as some extra lengths for whatever uses.

Ken untied Grace's left hand and pulled it backward. Grasping her leg, he pulled bent it backward and upward. She gave a sigh of fear mixed with excitement upon realizing what he was doing.

"Have you done this before?" he asked.

"Not for a long time, Jefe," she whispered.

Her other leg soon joined the first. She was sprawled upon her belly, her legs pulled backward, her wrists tied to her ankles.

Ken wasn't comfortable with knots around the neck, but he saw an elegant solution. Her hair was tied back in a neat pony tail. With some inventive braiding, he attached length of rope to her hair and then tied it the other end to the ropes restricting her ankles. Her head was now pulled back and she was officially hogtied

"Now that's a beautiful picture," said Ken, circling around the bed to survey his handiwork. "Comfy?"

"Not really," she muttered.

"What was that?" he said in a stern voice.

"I said... I love it, Jefe."

"Good," he said.

He placed himself behind her. The way her legs were tied gave him perfect leverage for fucking her. He had the perfect angle, and even better, he was able to grasp her legs to pull against. He started slowly, but worked his way up to pounding her in a rhythmic fashion. He kept her right near the edge for two reasons. One, because he knew if he gave her the release of climax he would lose much of the sway he had over her. Also, her voice had a seductive, husky tone about it and he knew if he heard her cum, he wouldn't be far behind.

He kept rocking her body, moving her closer and closer to orgasm. Eventually he had her teetering on the edge of climax and had her gasping in frustration when he stopped once again.

"Please, Jefe," she pleaded. "Just finish me, I promise I'll do anything you want. You own me, I promise."

He pulled out and stepped off the bed. Reaching over, he slid her immobilized body to the edge. Her head pulled back, her eyes looked up to him entreatingly.

"Do I really own you?" he asked.

"Oh yes, Jefe," she moaned.

"Prove it."

He offered her his cock. Though she could barely move her head, she leaned forward to swallow up his juice-slickened member. He kept it hovering there, just beyond the reach of her lips and she begged him.

"Please, Jefe," she moaned. "Please let me taste it."

He let her taste it and then some. With one slow motion he leaned further and further forward, pushing his cock past her teeth, then tongue, and all the way down her throat. She took it all and he kept it there until he felt her throat tightening around his cock and saw her struggling. He pulled out and let her breathe again before plunging in once more. Within minutes, he was fucking her throat and she was gasping and moaning with pleasure.

"Don't stop Jefe," she pleaded. "Fuck me! Punish my throat!"