The Trial
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Irresolute Trial free porn video
Irresolute Trial
By Bill Hart
My head throbbed mercilessly as I awoke.
Other than being laid out on some large soft bed somewhere, I didn't
have the slightest idea where I was.
I couldn't think about it; I didn't want to think about anything.
Thinking simply hurt too much.
My poor head already ached more than enough without adding to it.
Two people - I think it was two, but it might have been a few more or
even a few less - entered the room.
One of them sat down beside me. The other - if there really were
another - looked into my eyes. The light from the scope hurt my eyes.
And just that little bit of pain made my head hurt even more. I
started to complain, but one of them put two fingers across my lips
to silence me, while the other's head shook slowly side to side.
Why didn't they want me to talk?
And then, my eyes widened and my fear grew as I saw that needle one of
them was holding up in front of me. It was huge; it looked more like
something one might use to inject something into an elephant.
My fear grew so great my larynx froze. I couldn't scream, even though
I really wanted to scream very badly. Then one of them stuck that
monstrous needle, not all that gently, into my arm and swiftly emptied
whatever it contained into my system.
Just a heartbeat later, I no longer wanted to scream at all.
I suddenly felt so peaceful and contented.
All I really wanted to do at that very moment was sleep.
***
When I woke again, I had no pain whatsoever. My head no longer
throbbed in time to the beating of my heart. My mind seemed clearer
than it had in ages. I even remembered what had happened to me.
I'd been sitting alone in the local bar last night. Was it really
just last night or might I have been asleep even longer? Since my
divorce - a really messy one - the little bar down the street 'The
Watering Place' had become almost like a second home to me.
While I was sitting at the counter nursing along my drink, this
slinky, hot-looking babe strolled casually into the Place. It was
readily apparent - I was neither blind nor dead, although my bitch of
an ex might have disagreed on either or both parts - this babe had
come to 'The Watering Place' seeking a little action. And I, along
with all of the other regulars, was certainly more than willing to
help her with her search. Although, to be perfectly honest, I doubted
I had any kind of a chance. I was balding and well over fifty. And
she was possibly just into her early twenties, as well as stunningly
gorgeous.
There were several groans, when she sauntered up to the bar and
unexpectedly plopped herself down on the stool next to mine. I'd
never seen anyone plop so sexily before. I wondered what I'd done to
get so lucky, as I finished off the last of my drink. But on the
other hand, I wasn't about to complain about some young hot sexy fox
sitting down next to me. And just the idea of asking her to move was
definitely out of the question. It had been far too long since a real
babe like this had paid any attention to me. And it had been even
longer since... I didn't want to think about that.
Without saying a word, the sultry babe held up a slender finger
towards the bartender, then pointed that same delicate finger at me
and then back at herself. A moment later, I had another Scotch just
like the one I'd just finished drinking. And the sensual young lady
had what appeared to be a white wine sitting in front of her.
I started to thank her, but she pushed two fingers against my lips and
slowly shook her head. She hadn't wanted me to speak. I didn't know
why. Maybe she couldn't speak. Or perhaps, she merely didn't want to
speak. But to be perfectly honest, it didn't really matter to me if
she did or didn't. This was her game and, for as long as she was
showing this much interest in me, I could play it any way she wanted
it played.
Gently, I took her hand. With a small kiss on her exquisitely dainty
fingers, I simply nodded my head in agreement. She knew I would not
speak now unless she asked me to do so.
She smiled at me.
And I, of course, smiled back.
She leaned towards me, then brushed her soft warm lips briefly across
my own. As she slowly pulled back, she was smiling at me with an
unmistakable 'come hither' smile.
If 'come hither' was what she wanted from me, then 'come hither' was
exactly what she was about to get from me. She took a small sip of
her wine, as I started to get up from the stool. My action seemed to
puzzle her. She looked somehow sad and betrayed, as she put her free
hand on top of mine. She pointed at her drink, then took another
small sip from the glass. She then pointed at my untouched drink, and
smiled widely.
All of a sudden, it dawned on me why she'd looked puzzled and sad as I
stood. She had chosen me from among all of the bar's patrons. She'd
also bought me a drink. And now, after she'd kissed me, it probably
appeared to her as if I was refusing her gift and about to abandon
her. I smiled, as I picked up my drink from the counter, then
finished it off in one swift gulp. I could only hope I hadn't just
offended her even more than I already had.
I was surprised when she abruptly chugged the remainder of her glass
of wine. I'd never seen a girl do that before. But it was also
readily apparent that I hadn't offended her after all.
She leaned over towards me and kissed me again. Before I even knew
what was happening, she had hopped off her barstool, taken my hand,
and begun pulling me toward the front door. She'd certainly become
an overly eager little beaver now that I'd accepted her drink.
There were hoots, hollers and catcalls as she and I made our way to
the front door. We didn't move too quickly; I wanted to savor these
few moments. And once we finally reached the door, I pulled the girl
closer and gave her an impassioned kiss for the benefit of all those
poor bastards who weren't going to be anywhere near as lucky as I
would be tonight.
Together, she and I walked out through the door and into the night.
It was the very last thing I remembered doing until I woke up on that
large soft bed earlier.
Clearly, I must have been drugged. There was simply no other
reasonable explanation for my blackout.
But that lone reasonable explanation left me with a question. Just
how had I been drugged in the first place?
The girl had never once touched my drink. But I couldn't believe a
real babe like her could have possibly had anything to do with
drugging me. Maybe I'd been shot with a dart as we'd left the bar.
But I hadn't felt anything. And that made me wonder if maybe both of
us had been taken. Was it possible aliens from outer space looking
for experimental human subjects had abducted us?
But where was I now?
This certainly didn't look like the insides of an alien spaceship.
But to be quite truthful, I've never really been inside an alien
spacecraft before. It may or may not have been one. I wouldn't have
known anyway. But I simply couldn't discount the possibility this
might actually be one.
I wasn't on the same bed that I'd been before. I wasn't even on a
bed any more. I was on a gurney - at least, it would pass as a gurney
until the real thing came along. I don't know how I could have failed
to notice that little detail before, particularly since this gurney
was so damned uncomfortable.
When I tried to get up, I found I couldn't. My arms and legs -
another little detail I'd also apparently overlooked - were both
strapped securely to the gurney.
But who could have done this to me?
And an even better question, why had they done it to me?
I sure didn't find the thought of being slowly dissected alive by
strange little alien creatures overly intriguing or the least bit
appealing. But I didn't seem to have another option.
Suddenly the gurney began moving. It wasn't actually going anywhere;
it was beginning to shift around and take on a new shape. Fortunately
for me, it wasn't a jerky kind of motion. It was a slow and smooth,
very deliberate change. Maybe they didn't want to hurt me.
It didn't take too long - it probably seemed far longer than it
actually was - for the gurney to change into what could pass as a
chair. It was still fairly uncomfortable. And, in spite of its
change of form, my arms and legs remained firmly strapped to it.
Unexpectedly, I heard an odd clanky jangling noise. I couldn't do too
much to look around. And I was taken by surprise when this huge
helmet-like thing came down from the ceiling and slipped over my head
before coming to rest on my shoulders.
I wanted to scream, but before I could open my mouth, strange music
began playing through the speakers in the helmet. I couldn't keep
myself from listening. As I became more and more immersed in the
strange sounding music, my desire and my need to scream simply melted
away. Although it still sounded strangely weird in my ears, the music
was also making me feel increasingly mellow. It was eerily beautiful
in its own way. I just wanted to listen to the music; I couldn't even
think of doing anything else.
I didn't even mind too much when I felt another needle being pushed
into my arm. But why should I mind? It was just some big old needle
with who knew what inside it. And since it didn't really interfere
with me listening to the music, what was there to complain about. In
fact, once I'd been injected with whatever it was, I became convinced
that the beautiful music spoke to me and me alone.
***
I don't know how long the strange music continued playing. And quite
truthfully, I didn't really care. And yet, when it abruptly ceased I
felt an overwhelming sadness begin pervading throughout my entire
body. I really wanted that incredible music to start playing in all
its glory once again.
I was more surprised when the helmet began rising from my head. And
once I realized I wouldn't be able to hear the music without the
helmet thingy on my head, I became annoyed and then angry. But as
the helmet continued rising, it snagged on my hair for an instant. I
thought that was very strange. For the last several years, I hadn't
had anywhere near enough hair to get snagged by anything.
And yet, I could also feel hair settling back onto my shoulders. I
had no idea how that could possibly be. What little hair remained on
my head wasn't even long enough to pinch between my fingers. However,
I simply couldn't deny it was there.
The wall across from me began moving slowly. As it moved, the mirror
hidden behind it was revealed.
I stared in disbelief at the mirror. Or more accurately, I stared at
the image being reflected back at me from the silvered surface. What
I seeing simply wasn't possible. At least, I didn't think it could
be possible.
Instead of seeing myself reflected back at me from the mirror, there
was clearly someone else strapped into the chair. There was a girl
sitting right where I fully expected to see me sitting. She was an
overly well-endowed blonde that couldn't possibly be too much older
than twenty.
Twenty?
Suddenly, I didn't mind the idea of being in my early twenties again.
It was better than being in my mid-fifties. The apparent return of my
youth - albeit as a buxomy female - was a welcome change to my life.
I certainly wouldn't miss ordering from the senior menu. And for some
strange inexplicable reason being twenty-something, as well as a girl,
didn't seem to bother me very much.
I shook my head slowly. Something didn't seem exactly right. But I
watched in fascination as the girl in the mirror matched my every
move. Her blonde hair swirled about her head, just as I imagined my
own hair swirled about my own head.
I was a blonde now too.
Could it be possible?
My shoulder-length blonde hair was silky and full. All the other
girls would definitely be jealous once they saw me.
Even though I was certain I'd never had any thoughts like these
before, I suddenly liked the idea of being a blonde. Stereotypical
dumb blondes notwithstanding, I knew blondes were always a lot more
fun. I also knew blondes had more fun. Although I didn't exactly
know where I'd heard those things before, I still remembered hearing
them somewhere. And I was becoming increasingly anxious about finding
out for myself whether or not those old sayings were true.
I tried, without much success, to look down at my chest. All I could
tell with any real certainty was my chest was nothing like it had once
been. But that girl in the mirror was grinning at me with an
unmistakable Cheshire cat smile. But why she shouldn't she smile?
She definitely had herself a really nice rack.
All of a sudden, I felt somewhat embarrassed. A really nice rack?
How gauche of me to think something like that. But what else could I
call them? I could certainly call them breasts. But even though that
was what they were, the idea of simply calling them breasts just
seemed a little too mundane. At the same time, something just sounded
awfully wrong about calling them jugs, knockers or hooters like I
had in the past.
And then the perfect name for them came to me.
Boobies.
I'd call them boobies.
I really liked the sound of that. It just sounded so right.
That girl in the mirror hanging on the wall had beguiling bountiful
bouncy boobies. I just loved the alliteration of beguiling bountiful
bouncy boobies. I also loved all those images it brought to my mind.
And if that wasn't enough to make me smile, I just knew that if the
girl in the mirror had such blissfully bewitching beauteous boobies -
so shoot me over the alliteration already - then, in all likelihood,
so did I.
I wished my arms and legs weren't bound to this damn chair. I'd never
liked being tied up. And I really wanted to stand up so I could get
a real good look at myself in the mirror. Clearly, the busty girl I
saw in the mirror was somehow me. And I, at the same time, had also
somehow become her. I didn't know how it could have happened, but I
sure as hell wasn't about to complain. There was just something about
being such a babe I found appealing.
As I struggled against my bonds, that young woman I'd first seen as
she'd entered 'The Watering Place' came into the room. At least, I
thought it was she with me. And yet, there seemed to be something
subtly and inexplicably different about her. I had truly thought I
would have recognized that young woman anywhere, but now I wasn't too
sure about that. And yet, I doubted there could many like her. But,
very strangely, this girl seemed nowhere near as enticing as she had
when I'd first met her. I wondered what might have been done to her.
At the same time, I simply couldn't take my eyes off her, as she
strolled casually to my side.
Before I could even think to ask her a question - or, for that matter,
even think of a question to ask - she placed two fingers across my
lips and slowly shook her head. She still didn't want me to speak.
And even though I didn't know why I should or even if she were the
same girl, I still felt somewhat honor bound to uphold my earlier
promise not to speak to her unless she asked me to speak.
I nodded my head in agreement as best I could.
With a playful smile on her lips, she let her fingers slide slowly
across my lips. Before I realized what was happening between us, her
soft lips ere gently pressed against my own. And it wasn't long after
that - I didn't know which of us had actually initiated it - before
our casual kiss turned steamy and passionate.
I felt my nipples and boobies tingle with excitement.
I felt my crotch dampen.
For a moment, I wondered what might be wrong with me. With such a
pretty young girl being so sensually attentive to me, I should have
had a raging boner. But then I realized I simply couldn't get it up
for the simple reason that it was something I no longer had. As the
mirror had constantly told me, I was a girl now. And proper young
girls like me simply didn't get woodies.
My mind was spinning madly as she stepped back from me. I just wished
she had continued kissing me. I didn't really want her to ever stop
kissing me.
Not that I could have - or would have - stopped her, she slipped a
pair of earphones over my ears. And no sooner were they in place,
then the music began playing through them.
Just as before, the music was incredibly beautiful. And just as it
had been before, the bewitching music seemed to be speaking to me and
to me alone. But that was certainly all right with me, because I
didn't want to share my music with anyone else. And yet, this music
was very different from the music before.
The earlier music had made me calm and mellow. This new music I found
exciting and exhilarating. It made me feel the same way I'd felt when
that girl had been kissing me earlier. But as this music continued
playing in my ears, this sense of excitement and exhilaration I was
feeling increasingly intensified.
My mind and thoughts swirled madly. I had become so sexually aroused;
I didn't have a clue what was happening to me. But the compelling
music played on and on. Until finally my body was jolted by an
intensely pleasurable sensation unlike anything I'd ever felt before.
And that jolt was quickly followed by another.
And still another.
And yet another, before I, fully spent, passed out from total physical
exhaustion and an overload of pleasure.
***
When I awoke again, they gave me new clothes to wear. The clothing
they gave me clung tenaciously to my every curve. Just wearing these
new clothes made me think sensual thoughts about several things I'd
never dreamed of thinking about in that way. They made me feel hot
and incredibly sexy. And in light of just how my hot and sexy new
clothes made me feel so absolutely wonderful, I couldn't imagine why
I'd never thought about wearing something like them before now.
While I'd dressed, they'd explained everything they wanted me to do.
What they wanted was so very simple that any fool, even the most naive
male one, could have done it for them easily.
And then, they'd put me into the cab that would take me to the place
where I needed to be.
The cab had only traveled a few miles, when the cabbie stopped to let
me out. And once I climbed out of the cab, I carefully surveyed my
surroundings before paying the cabbie what was owed him. It simply
wouldn't do for me to be in the wrong place. How could I ever give
them what they wanted if I was somewhere other than where I was
supposed to be?
I knew exactly what they wanted; they'd certainly made that perfectly
clear. I also knew exactly how I could get it for them. I was, after
all, a very clever girl. They didn't need to worry about me. I was
sure they knew I'd come through for them. Besides, I wouldn't get my
reward if I failed them. And I sure as hell wasn't about to miss out
in getting my just reward.
As I reached the front door of the local bar - I couldn't actually see
its name, not that it really mattered - I stopped for a moment to gaze
upon my reflection in the window. I was a blonde busty babe, plain
and simple - well, hardly plain and far from simple - and I needed a
man. Or rather, they needed a man to continue with their experiment.
I was simply a means to that end. But that didn't really bother me.
As I entered the bar feeling much like a hunting tigress in search of
her prey, I looked quickly around the room in search of my likely
victim. Not that I was in the least surprised, every eye in the place
quickly turned in my direction. I'd always enjoyed being the center
of attention. It made me feel sexy and wanted. Besides, it wasn't as
if I'd always been the buxomy blonde goddess I was now. It had taken
me several years to grow into the part. And even though it
inexplicably felt a little strange thinking of myself that way, I was
thoroughly convinced I'd grown into the part quite well.
And then, I spotted him sitting alone at the counter. He was balding
and easily well into his fifties. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd
figured he had no chance with a stunningly hot babe like me. And even
if something seemed oddly familiar about this whole situation in which
I found myself, I just somehow knew he'd be absolutely perfect for
their needs, whatever they were.
I approached the counter with the grace of the slinkiest of felines.
My intended prey - apparently oblivious to my advance - just continued
sitting there sipping his drink. I began hearing moans and groans
from those poor unfortunates who only now were beginning to realize
I'd made my choice. And it wasn't one of them. As I plopped down
onto the barstool next to him - I had developed this special way of
plopping that was just incredibly sexy and drove men to distraction -
I watched my victim finish off the last of his drink.
How fortuitous for me that he'd finished his drink.
It would all be so very easy now.
I lifted a slender finger towards the bartender, before pointing
next at him and then myself. It was a special signal that they had
arranged. After all, the bartender took their bribes without a
moment's hesitation. How else would he know to whom to slip the
activator for the drug incorporated into my lipstick.
As soon as the bartender set another of the drinks he'd been consuming
beside him, my intended target turned slowly towards me. I thought he
was about to thank me for the drink, but I needed no thanks. I simply
placed two fingers across his lips and slowly shook my head. I didn't
where I'd learned to do that.
He gently took my hand in his own. And then he kissed my slender
fingers one after the other. He seemed to be such a gentleman. He
nodded his head towards me. I suppose he wanted to tell me that he
wouldn't speak unless I bade him to speak. Men could be such boys at
times, especially where a pretty girl was concerned.
I leaned over in his direction and brushed my lips against his. I
smiled at him; I was certain he thought he knew exactly what I had on
my mind. And if I knew the male of the species as well as I thought
I did, I was thoroughly convinced he wouldn't object to anything I
wanted him to do.
I took a sip of the white wine the bartender had served me. I hoped
he would follow my example. He only needed to partake of his drink -
a small sip would be sufficient - in order to activate the drug he'd
already taken into his system from my kiss. And yet, without taking
even the smallest of sips, my target started to stand.
I was suddenly very confused.
Had I somehow done something wrong?
Could he have somehow guessed that I - that is to say, they - had an
ulterior motive?
But how could that possibly be?
He didn't even know about them.
And how could possibly think something like that - even if it were the
truth - about me?
All of a sudden, he smiled at me. He picked up his drink from the
counter and finished it off in one swift gulp. I felt so relieved.
It would be only a matter of time now before he fell under their
control.
I didn't know why, but I lifted what remained of my wine to my lips
and tossed it down my throat as if I were some vulgar sailor. It
certainly wasn't a very lady-like thing for me to do. But at the
same time, I had these vague and fading recollections of doing that
very thing many times before.
However, I needed to make sure there was more than an adequate amount
of the drug coursing through his system. I kissed him again, even
deeper and more passionately than I had before. It hadn't been my
initial intent, but I wasn't overly sure which of us enjoyed it more.
I now had what I came inside for. He was mine now. And he knew it.
But he didn't know and I wasn't about to tell him that he'd soon be
theirs. I hopped off the barstool, then took his hand in mine and
headed for the front door of the bar.
There were hoots and hollers and catcalls as he and I made our way
slowly to the front door. The poor fools were so jealous that I'd
selected him over any of them. And yet we moved towards the door far
more slowly than I thought wise. My fool of a potential lover wanted
to luxuriate in these moments he apparently thought made him superior
to all these other fools who wanted me.
And when we finally reached the door, he pulled me closer to him. I
was sure the impassioned kiss we exchanged was solely for the benefit
of all those poor luckless bastards that he clearly considered far
less fortunate than himself. Even though I enjoyed the kiss
immensely, I still considered him a total asshole.
And, even if something still seemed oddly familiar about him, he was
still a fool.
But he was also a man, not that I had ever thought there was too much
difference between the two. And yet, I still couldn't get over how
strangely familiar he somehow seemed. But I was certain I didn't know
him. We certainly didn't hang out with any of the same people.
As we walked through the door, he took a long deep breath. A moment
later, he stumbled. And a moment after that, he slumped against me.
He was definitely a lot heavier than I expected he'd be. But somehow,
I kind of thought I should be stronger than I was.
I was glad when they finally arrived to take him off my hands. I
neither needed nor wanted any further entanglements with him. And in
delivering him to them, I'd earned my reward. I was free of them now
and forever more.
However, as they put him into their car, I began feeling a little bit
sorry for him. But I wasn't exactly sure why. At the same time, I
was glad I wasn't him. He was going to be the subject of their next
experiment. I didn't really know what they had planned for the poor
fool. Nor was I overly eager to find out. It was his problem now,
not mine.
And yet, as I watched their car speed away, I was definitely relieved
to be finally free of them. According to what they'd told me, they
could only perform their experiments, whatever they might be, on men.
And that made me very happy I wasn't one.
The End
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