Marine GamesChapter 5 The Olympic Trials
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Gas – The Early Trials free porn video
‘You never said why.’
Sarah C. said to Dr Tilley from her comfy chair. Sarah idly flicked back an errant blonde hair as she looked across at the slightly greying, ageing man before her. Dr Tilley had begun to sport a neat little salt and pepper goatee of late, which framed his face in a slightly satanic cast.
‘Why what?’ Dr Tilley replied, sitting across from her in a relaxed slump.
Above them, there was a soft chime. ‘We are coming in to land,’ said the voice. ‘Please extinguish all smoking materials, and fasten your seat belts.’
With a sigh, Sarah took one last drag of her cigarette and stubbed it out. Exhaling a streamer of blue smoke, she looked up at Dr Tilley.
‘Why you haven’t had sex with me yet,’ she asked him.
Dr Tilley smiled. ‘I’ve told you. I have my reasons.’
Sarah C. frowned. ‘And apart from having a fetish for gassing people, what would that reason be?’
Dr Tilley’s smile turned into a thoughtful expression. ‘Well, since we’re on the verge of arriving, and the next phase is about to be initiated,’ he said, cupping his chin in his hands, ‘I might as well tell you.’
It had started a good many years before, with a few tests here and there, and one very public orgy held in a college.
Other than a few of the less than wholly successful tests, Dr Tilley’s first real success had come from the test of Batch 17.
‘I’ve given Batch 17 to a few women,’ Dr Tilley said. ‘At first I needed a sort of catalyst compound as well, which I brought along with me in little breakable glass vials. I had to break them under the noses of the subjects once in a while, to keep them compliant. But otherwise, they’d slowly go back to their original behaviour and without regular stimuli, all my conditioning but the basic first instruction would be lost.’
‘That instruction being …?’
‘You cannot harm me, or cause me to come to harm, no matter what, as I will not harm you, or bring you to harm,’ Dr Tilley intoned. ‘I got that from a hypnotist I knew when he retired, may he rest in peace.’
‘So there have been others you’ve enslaved before,’ Sarah C. said.
‘I have indeed,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘Quite a few, as a matter of fact. And I’ll be quite happy to tell you of some of them in time.
‘But then, the first of the new refinement of Batch 17 came along, and I had to try it out. It worked, and I hardly needed any of the catalyst at all. Just one, two shots of the vapours at most, and they were hooked on the stuff.’
‘I should be feeling ill,’ Sarah C. replied. ‘But I’m not.’
‘That’s because I hit you and those others with Batch 23, the good stuff,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘Back when I had a dental practice. But that is another story, yes?’ He leaned forwards, smiling.
Sarah C. blushed. ‘You turned me on to smoking,’ she said. ‘I never used to smoke till you came along.’
‘Ah, that’s not entirely true, now … but as I said, that’s for another time. You said you wanted to hear more, didn’t you?’
Sarah C. nodded.
‘Well, the first few successes with Batch 17a were fun. I got a few women hooked on this, tried out a few variations. Once I’d got it right, I went for the first stage of my plan.’
‘The college orgy.’
‘The dental practice,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘I’d already passed my doctorates in anaesthesiology and dentistry. Damned good dentist, too.’
‘Yes. Thanks,’ Sarah C. replied, flashing her teeth at Dr Tilley.
‘I was a good dentist, but I was an even better anaesthesiologist. I don’t know why, but I always had this thing for the study of the science of controlling and reducing sensation and consciousness.’
‘Did it give you a sense of power?’ Sarah C. asked, sarcastically.
‘Less of your lip, girl,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘Anyway, the practice. There was a damned good one, in town where you went. I got hired by the staff. It was really easy, when the references were so good.’
Sarah thought about this for a minute. ‘Wait a minute,’ she said. ‘You mean …?’ She looked aghast.
‘Some of the early trials,’ Dr Tilley replied, nodding. ‘Loyalty can be earned, bought, or in my case … compelled.’
‘Such as?’
‘Oh, such as Doctor Agatha Claymore …’
Dr Agatha Claymore
Her friends called her ‘Aggie.’ She’d been a practising orthodontist for fourteen years. She was 42.
Dr Tilley snared her in her car.
It was a cold February evening. The nights were getting shorter and the days lengthening, too slowly for Aggie. Aggie reminded people of a lion, with her mane of red hair getting only a little grey these days at the fringe, above her right temple. Her slight laugh lines and crow’s-feet around the corners of her eyes simply made her sexier to many of her male clients, some of whom were very handsome, half her age and thoroughly besotted by her in a motherly kind of way.
Aggie always got the Oedipus complex crowd. Maybe she liked it that way.
Dr Tilley was waiting for her as she exited her old practice that evening. It was raining, and he stood beneath the streetlight, clutching a small brown bag. Aggie stopped the car, peered out of the side window.
‘Hop in,’ she said.
‘Are you sure?’ Dr Tilley asked her.
‘You’re not far from where I live,’ she said. ‘You’ll be home before you know it. Much easier than waiting another half an hour. Besides, you could catch your death of cold out here. So hop in.’
‘Thanks, Aggie,’ Dr Tilley said, opening the rear door on the driver’s side and climbing in the back seat. Aggie smiled.
‘You could have come in the front,’ she said.
‘Oh, I didn’t think …’
‘You don’t drive, do you?’ she asked. Dr Tilley shook his head, visible to her in the rear view mirror.
‘Thought not.’ Aggie checked her belt. ‘Seatbelts,’ she said.
‘Seatbelts,’ said the stewardess, as she passed by Sarah C. and Dr Tilley. She checked that they were both secure. ‘Thank you,’ she said, before moving on.
‘You were saying?’ Sarah asked, as Dr Tilley watched the air stewardess walk away, admiring the girl’s sleek long stockinged legs and heels.
‘Ah yes,’ Dr Tilley replied, snapping back to the present. ‘Anyway, Aggie did take me to my place,’ he said, ‘before driving on to hers. Only thing was, I did a most unforgivable thing to her before she went.’
‘You hit her with the gas.’
‘I hit her,’ Dr Tilley said, ‘with the gas.’
Aggie
‘You’re there,’ Dr Tilley said to Aggie. Aggie parked her car under a streetlight. Dr Tilley got out of the car.
‘And Henry?’ Aggie said.
‘Yes, Aggie?’
‘Next time, remember it’s February,’ she replied. ‘Wear heavier clothing.’
Dr Tilley shut the car door. Aggie wound up the window. Dr Tilley started walking along the street, listened to the car starting up.
He didn’t walk too far. At one point he turned, looked back. The car was running, but nobody’s engaged the clutch. It was just parked there.
Dr Tilley went back, looked in the window, which was steaming slightly. Aggie was already heavily under, her eyes rolling up into their sockets, her eyelids fluttering as she slipped into the half slumber of the early stage of the gas.
Removing a handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it to his mouth, Dr Tilley opened the rear driver’s side door and picked up the brown bag from where he’d dropped it in the passenger football. Inside it was a small black cylinder, emitting a stream of odourless, colourless Batch 17 gas.
Hissssss …
Dr Tilley shut off the bottle, the stream of gas ceased. Dr Tilley left the door open, also opening Aggie’s door to lean in and turn off the engine.
‘You cannot harm me, nor through inaction or accident cause me to come to harm,’ Dr Tilley began. ‘I won’t harm you, either,’ he added. He took out a vial of the catalyst. ‘You’re going to wake up in a minute’ he said
. ‘You’ll feel like your own woman, but you’ll really be loyal to me, and you will obey me without question. Do you understand me?’
‘I … unnrstann …’ Aggie slurred, half dozing.
Dr Tilley snapped the vial under Aggie’s nose. Her pupils went to pinpricks a moment. ‘Wake up, be yourself, and follow my instructions,’ he said.
Aggie closed her eyes, when she opened them, they were normal. She shook her head. ‘Ooh,’ she said. ‘I must’ve nodded off there. It’s been a long day.’
‘It has,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘You said something before you passed out.’
‘And what was that?’
‘You said you’d love to come up to my place for coffee and sex,’ Dr Tilley said.
Aggie looked astonished. ‘Really? I said that?’
Dr Tilley nodded.
‘I must’ve been dreaming,’ Aggie said.
‘Come up to my place anyway,’ Dr Tilley said, gently. Aggie climbed out of the car, shut it, locked it up and followed Dr Tilley home.
‘And did you have coffee and sex with her?’ Sarah C. asked. Dr Tilley smiled.
‘Back then, I liked to have my wicked way with some of my guests,’ he said.
Aggie
They started the evening relaxing in Dr Tilley’s sparse little apartment, sipping tea from mugs bought from Woolworth’s.
‘No TV,’ Aggie said, looking around the room. ‘Just two little comfy chairs, a coffee table, a hole of a kitchen and some bookshelves. Oh, and your computer in the corner.’ She nodded towards the ancient computer. ‘You’d imagine a man like you’d be rich.’
‘I’ve spent any money I have on research,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘The result is in front of you on the coffee table.’
Aggie looked down at the small black cylinder lying on the coffee table in front of her. ‘What is it?’
‘Batch 17,’ he replied. ‘I mixed in a little bit of a regular anaesthetic,’ he added. ‘A little whiff of general added to the compound, keep you from resisting until Batch 17’s done its work.’
‘Which one? Not halothane. They haven’t worked out all the kinks from that one yet. Liver damage, naturally, plus it is rather … pungent.’ She waved her hands in front of her face.
Dr Tilley chuckled. ‘No. Xenon.’
Aggie looked shocked. ‘Xenon? I really thought you’d have gone for desfluorane, or sevofluorane.’
‘Couldn’t get a batch of sevofluorane in time,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘Want some more tea? Or maybe a biscuit?’
‘I’d like information,’ Aggie replied. ‘For instance, why aren’t I getting up right now and calling the police?’
‘That’d be the first suggestion,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘Imprints the strongest, just after the very first exposure. The other little exposures won’t override that first suggestion.’
‘But … why?’ Aggie asked.
‘I need you to do something for me, tomorrow perhaps,’ Dr Tilley said.
‘And what would that be?’
Dr Tilley smiled.
Sarah C. shook her head in amazement. ‘And she did it?’ she asked.
‘A golden reference,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘She wrote to the retiring head surgeon of the dental practice you were caught in. She and the outgoing head partner were old friends in med school, and he owed her one. So he gave me the job. Well, her recommendations got me the job, but I brought along a bottle of Batch 17 just in case. I didn’t need it.’
‘For once,’ Sarah C. replied.
‘I could have stripped you of all volition that first time,’ Dr Tilley said, frowning. ‘Made you over into a fucktoy.’
‘But you didn’t,’ Sarah C. said. ‘You kept my wits, gave me the strength to question, but put this … what did you call it, in my head?’
‘The Asimov Command,’ Dr Tilley said. ‘That first little suggestion about never harming me, yes. That one.’
‘So you’ll have to put up with whatever shit I have to say,’ Sarah C. replied. ‘I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to break free, quit you, or quit smoking for that matter, but at least I can bitch at you to my heart’s content because you made me this way.’
‘So I did,’ Dr Tilley said, as the plane lurched and bounced on the runway. ‘So I did.’
They met Helga, one of the Doctor’s ‘fucktoys’, outside. Helga had a vague resemblance to the actress Brigitte Nielsen, a woman of Amazonian proportions, she liked to work out in the gym, and kept her blonde hair close cropped on her head. Helga wore a one piece grey button front chauffeur’s uniform, slick shiny black forearm length black gloves, knee length boots and a peaked cap.
Helga and Sarah C. embraced, kissed passionately outside the airport as incoming and outgoing pedestrians looked on. Some of the men looked on with interest, until their disgusted female partners elbowed them in the ribs. Some of the women looked on at the passionate kiss and clinch with a mild expression of interest themselves.
‘Okay, ladies, that’s enough for now,’ Dr Tilley said, separating the two. Helga parted reluctantly from Sarah C., who glanced down.
Helga was showing visible camel toe between her thighs.
‘Get in the car, Sarah,’ Dr Tilley said. ‘Helga, take us home.’
‘Everyone will be so thrilled to have you back home, Doctor,’ Helga said. ‘You too, Sarah.’ She winked, blew Sarah a kiss. Sarah replied. Everyone got in, and Helga pulled out.
‘You haven’t finished your story,’ Sarah asked. ‘What happened with Aggie?’
‘Oh, she retired early,’ Dr Tilley said. ‘She’s happy in the South of France. She married a dental surgeon, one of the best France could train. He’s got his own practice in Nice, I believe, and he has an Oedipus complex the size of Mount Snowdon, so they’re both very happy.’
‘I meant that night,’ Sarah said. ‘Was there sex after all?’
‘Oh, there was,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘But more importantly, Aggie showed me what had been missing all along from my research – the trick to making a suggestion beyond the first one permanent. And it all started when her libido kicked in …’
Aggie
‘Well, I suppose we’d better get down to it, then,’ Aggie said, putting down her cup on the table. ‘You did say I’d invited myself up here for sex, yes?’
She got up, reached into her handbag. ‘I have these,’ she said, taking out two condoms. ‘And more in the car.’
‘I have a supply of my own,’ Dr Tilley replied. ‘In the bedroom.’
Aggie took out a slim packet, from which she took out a slim panatela. ‘One of my little indulgences,’ she said. ‘I have one before sex. Hope you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all,’ Dr Tilley said.
‘I’m also sorry that I’m not better attired,’ Aggie replied, looking at her tweed coat and sensible grey clothes. ‘I do like to dress up for my men.’
‘I, er, have something in the room,’ Dr Tilley said, blushing. ‘It’s hanging up.’
Aggie smiled, the lighter halfway to the tip of the panatela. ‘Do bring it in, then,’ she said, smiling.
Dr Tilley went into the room, returned a moment later with the garments from the wardrobe, wrapped in a dry cleaner’s plastic cover sheet. Aggie took off the cover, looked at it approvingly.
‘I’ll wear this,’ she replied. ‘Do you have the rest of the attire?’
‘I even have a barrette,’ Dr Tilley said. ‘The last one was, well, thorough.’
Aggie chuckled, a deep chuckle of lust.
Sarah C. looked at Dr Tilley. ‘I don’t know if I want to hear the rest,’ she said to him. ‘Who left the clothes there? And what were they?’
‘All I’ll say is,’ Dr Tilley said, ‘they were white …’
Aggie
Aggie entered the living room, dressed in the clothes she’d been given, the lit panatela in her white silk gloved hand. She put the panatela to her mouth, dragged, exhaled a streamer of blue smoke. She looked at Dr Tilley.
‘Is this what you’re looking for?’ she asked.
Dr Tilley looked at Aggie, gulped.
Aggie wore matching white stockings, white high heeled shoes, a red garter on her left thigh, white suspenders, white lacy panties. The Basque was white and made of silk, enhancing Aggie’
s curvaceous figure. Aggie even wore the barrette in her auburn hair.
‘Come on,’ Aggie said. ‘I’ll show you what I like.’
In the room, Aggie left the panatela in an ashtray, pushed Dr Tilley onto the bed. ‘Here,’ she said, unzipping his trousers. ‘I like to work my men up first.’ Deftly, she reached into his underpants and pulled out Dr Tilley’s already hard cock. slowly worked it up and down with the silken fingers of her gloves as she looked into Dr Tilley’s eyes.
‘Do you like this?’ she asked.
Dr Tilley nodded.
Gently, Aggie bent down, blew on the cock, a stream of cold air which made Dr Tilley gasp with desire. She lapped at his cock with the tip of her tongue, tracing patterns on both sides as her fingers stroked the fraenulum underneath his cock, sending shivers of pleasure up and down Dr Tilley’s body.
Then, as he lay gasping, she stood up, and slowly began to strip off her clothes, starting with the gloves, peeling them off her fingers one at a time, discarding them at her feet. Next, stepping out of her shoes, Aggie undid the stockings and bent forwards as she pulled them down, so that Dr Tilley could see her cleavage clearly. Her eyes never left Dr Tilley’s. They were dispassionate, not lacking in emotion as much as concealing them.
When Aggie slowly slid her panties down, revealing herself to be a natural redhead, Dr Tilley was just about ready for her.
‘I’m going to do something,’ she said. ‘Something risky.’
‘What?’
‘I’m going to take the risk,’ Aggie said, ‘that you have no STIs. I’m already too late to get pregnant, having had my tubes tied ten years ago and all, and so …’ Leaving the words hanging, she climbed onto the bed, straddling Dr Tilley and his upright, solid cock.
Positioning herself over the penis, she lowered herself onto it. Dr Tilley felt the tickle of her pubic hairs, then the warm envelopment of her honey hole as she slid onto him, to settle down fully impaled on him.
Then, with the same emotion – masked expression on her face, Aggie slowly began to move her hips against Dr Tilley’s.
‘Is this what you want?’ she asked, as she ground against Dr Tilley. ‘A passive fuck toy to use? A puppet? A mindless drone, a slave?’ Slowly, her movements were beginning to increase in frequency and intensity, clearly, she was beginning enjoy this herself.
‘I … I can’t …’ Dr Tilley began.
‘Or would you prefer someone who has her own will, her own tastes, her own desires and the wit and skill to be able to articulate what she wants? To – uh – share with you?’ she said, crooning the last word. She closed her eyes, her head lolling forward. ‘Ooh,’ she said, not slowing down. ‘That feels weird. I …’
‘Keep going,’ Dr Tilley said. ‘Don’t stop until I tell you. Enjoy it. Get the most out of sex. It’ll last for you as long as you can handle it.’
Aggie fell silent, continued grinding, her hair falling over her face so she could no longer see Dr Tilley, the room, anything. Dr Tilley heard as her breathing became stronger, deeper, hoarser with her building orgasm.
‘Not yet,’ Dr Tilley whispered. ‘Come when I cum.’
Aggie ground ever deeper, her heavy breathing turning into ragged moans which became heavy moans of passion. Dr Tilley, meanwhile, began approaching his own climax, his body begging for release.
And then there was release, Dr Tilley’s cock throbbing and pulsing as he shot his load deeply into Aggie. Aggie felt the warmth of Dr Tilley’s issue, sighed and shuddered as the waves of orgasmic pleasure she’d been building up within her finally released. She flopped heavily down onto Dr Tilley, moaning softly, her head resting on his chest.
Presently, Dr Tilley heard and felt Aggie sobbing gently into his chest. He ran his fingers in her hair, whispered ‘What’s up?’ gently in her ear.
‘I’m … I’m a slave,’ Aggie whispered. ‘I want to hate you, but I can’t. I can’t do anything to you. Why did you do this to me? I thought we were friends.’
Dr Tilley stroked Aggie’s hair, gently cradled her, his hard on slowly relaxing as he cuddled her till they both fell asleep.
‘It was nicotine,’ Dr Tilley said. ‘It later turned out that nicotine synergised with the catalyst in the vials, making it possible to require only one vial to make the effects of the Batch 17 fast. So I can thank Aggie for that, and for the research following that made it possible to come up with the enormously successful Batch 19 that I used on Hannah and her Mum, and in the college orgy.’
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