“Why didn’t he go after it himself? ”
“He was too busy chasing around with that invention of his. Besides, he had no idea of what I was going to do. I didn’t tell him. I just acted on my own. All I intended to do was a little snooping so I could give him the proof he wanted. I-t would have made him so happy. It’s hard to explain, but Anthony’s sort of a dedicated individual. He’s never so happy as when he can combat the evil inside people.”
“Well, that’s one way to get your kicks,” I observed. “But go on,” I said hastily, noticing that my remark had made Carrie angry. “What exactly did you do?”
“I answered one of the ads in the paper without telling Anthony. The next thing I knew, a few days later, I got a phone call from Velvet, the bookstore proprietor. He made the arrangements for me to meet this man Barry. This Barry was—-”
“I know him. Never mind that. Where did Barry take you?”
“To a party at the home of some people named George and Helen. I thought they might mind because they knew his wife and she was away. Boy, was I ever wrong! It wasn’t that kind of party. Now, I’d only intended to get some evidence for Anthony. I never meant to really do anything. Honestly, up until that night, I’d never been unfaithful to Anthony.” She hung her head.
“But you got carried away.” I helped her out.
“Yes. But also I learned that there was much more to this sex underground than even Anthony suspected. You have to try to understand this. I felt so guilty over having been disloyal to Anthony that when Barry asked me to another sort of sex party I accepted because I really wanted to give Anthony some worthwhile evidence to sort of make it up to him. I mean, even if he didn’t know--”
“It’s okay. I understand. You don’t have to give me any explanations.” Hell, if she’d managed to rationalize it all to herself, who was I to pull the rug from under her?
“So I went with him to this spank-party, and that’s where I met Von Koerner. At first he didn’t seem to show any unusual interest in me, but then something must have happened. Somehow, he must have gotten wind of Anthony’s invention. Anyway, he called me up at my hotel —he must have gotten the number from Velvet-—and insisted I come to another party and that this time I bring my husband. I told him that was impossible and hung up. About a half-hour after that, Anthony came in. He was very upset because he'd thrown his mousetrap in the lake. Just after he came in, there was a knock at the door. It was a messenger with a package for him. As soon as I opened it, I knew it was from Von Koerner. There was a pair of leather panties in it, the same pair I’d worn at the spank-party Barry took me to. The note with them said Anthony should ask his wife their significance. Well, he did. So I told him what I’d been up to, only I lied about participating. I showed him the ad I answered and told him how Von Koerner wanted us to come to another party that evening. He wanted to go. To tell the truth, I guess I wanted him to go, too. I love Anthony, but he’s so bottled up inside himself. I guess I had some sort of crazy idea that this might help him get rid of some of his repressions.”
“And that’s where Von Koerner grabbed him?” I speeded her along because there were people entering the chamber in which we were talking.
“Yes. He kidnapped him. And ever since he’s been blackmailing me into doing whatever he wants by threatening to kill Anthony if I don’t. He’s had me participating here with a couple of other men who were interested in Anthony. A Chinese and -”
“What other men? Tell me—” It was too late. The four white-coated attendants, two men and two women, were upon us.
The two men took charge of me. They were most efficient. The spread was whisked off the bed and I was stretched out. Moistened rubber electrodes were attached to the soles of my feet. Another set was connected to my temples. A third was slipped inside my pajama pants and fastened to the area of my groin. Then I was neatly flipped over on my stomach. I hadn’t been aware of it, but there was a small hole in the seat of my pajamas. A thermometer was neatly inserted via the aperture. There was a wire leading from it, as there was from each of the electrodes.
The pair of female attendants had wired Carrie in similar fashion. Now the four of them turned to the instrument panels lining the walls and made a series of adjustments. As they marched out the lights dimmed in the “bedroom” and starlight and moonlight trickled through the “window.” Somewhere a stereo softly played the love music form Tristan and Isolde. A gentle but aphrodisiac perfume wafted past my nostrils.
“They don’t miss a trick, do they?” I remarked.
“Everything has been prepared scientifically to provide the utmost stimulation,” Carrie murmured.
“Well, you don’t have to go through with this,” I assured her. “There’s no reason—-”
“Oh, but I must! I owe it to Anthony!”
“I’m sure Von Koerner won’t harm Anthony if you don’t. He doesn’t care if -”
“I know my duty,” Carrie said fervently. “I’m here to be violated, and that’s that. And you’re supposed toviolate me.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Am I that unappealing?”
“No, but—”
“Then don’t say another word.” She sealed my lips with a kiss. It was quite a kiss. It left no doubt about the volcano of desire seething inside her.
Like I said before, I’m human. With her body hot and quivering against mine, who was I to re-write the script? To tell the truth, it never entered my mind. I reacted purely by instinct. I reached into the convenient slit of the nightie and caressed her bare breast.
Carrie’s skin was warm, and velvet to the touch My fingers sought out the sensitive area of her breast. I traced my finger over it and squeezed gently. It was as resilient as foam rubber with a hard center of passion. “How beautiful,” I murmured.
“That,” Carrie informed me, “is the electrode. It’s made of rubber with a metal center.”
Well, I wasn’t the first man to get my sex stimuli confused. Such is the age in which we live. Many a foam rubber bra has fooled a man to the point of arousal. I moved my hand, and encountered something that felt like the real thing. Still, I wasn’t taking any chances. “Is that it?” I asked Carrie.
“That,” she sighed, “is most definitely it!”
It swelled between my fingers as if to confirm what she said. Her hips moved in response to the touch. Her hand slid up my inner thigh, the fingers trailing excitingly up the back of my leg to my haunches. She squeezed them gently.
“Ouch!” I jumped.
“What’s the matter?”
“That damn thermometer.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Carrie’s hand relaxed its pressure.
We kissed again. The tip of her breasts was burning between my fingers now. Her hand, caressing my thighs intimately, was also hot and a trifle moist
“What do we need these clothes for?” Her voice was husky, her lips tingling at my ear.
We took them off carefully—very carefully! It was a project, doing it so as to avoid snarling the wires. Finally we were naked, and I took Carrie in my arms again. Our lips met. Her hands turned into a fist and grasped my manhood. There was the sudden jarring note of a bell ringing.
“What: was that?” My head shot up from the pillow.
“What?”
“That bell. Didn’t you hear it?”
“Oh, that.” Carrie shrugged and pulled me to her once again. “That always happens. Don’t let it bother you. You’ll get used to it.”
“That I doubt.” I slid my hand down her belly. It was soft and warm and then, as my fingers slid lower, it was furry. They slid still lower and a bright amber light blinked from one of the machines and momentarily blinded me. “I suppose that always happens, too,” I commented.