Volume 12: Never Look Back
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I was guided back to my cell at the "guest house" by Jacob and Jem, now feeling deflated and moving slowly with my eyes firmly on the ground. I sat heavily in the hard chair - which was made, as far as I could see, entirely from pieces of tree, badly cut and assembled by hand - and leaned on the table - which was constructed in the same fashion - holding my head in my hands. The younger guard, Jem, was left to look after me - Jacob presumably believing that it was beneath his dignity to wait on someone from my world, or perhaps he assumed that I was no threat. Shortly afterwards, a plate of food was brought for me - unfamiliar heavy starchy food that was not at all to my taste, but I did my best to consume out of politeness, although I was not particularly hungry. There was also a glass of water, which I drank. Having finished what I could of my meal, I wondered what to do with the plate and glass. Just at that moment, Jem re-appeared, collected the remnants of my meal, wished me a gruff "good evening" and left. I heard the door close with a thump, followed by a softer click which I realized was a lock being turned. I sat in the room - perhaps cell would have been a better description - alone with my own thoughts, wondering about my sister and what I should do. Should I rip her away from her own world, the only one she knew, and bring her to a place where everything and everyone would be strange and different? Or was the oppression of this place, which seemed to have seeped into my very bones in the few hours I had been here, worth the risk of culture-shock? The room gradually darkened; the sun was setting. I had nothing to do and in any case no light to do it by. No-one had thought to bring me a candle, although there might have been some kind of lighting if only I could have worked out how to switch it on. Finally, bored to tears and feeling depressed beyond measure, I undressed in the very last of the daylight - placing the clothing carefully on the chair, rather than tossing it aside for the PA to sort out - and slipped between the cold scratchy sheets of the bed. I had never felt so unsexy in my entire long life. I knew that in order to complete my secret mission - there was something decidedly and unexpectedly romantic, in an old-fashioned kind of way, about that description - I would have to remote the capsule embedded deep, so very deep, inside me by Lyanne during that energetic sex session not so long ago. I have to be very, very excited to be that open and, right now, that was a long way from that. I lay under the cold bedclothes and thought about that time with Leanne and Dragon. I thought about my friend Renie and her wonderfully sexy bisexual appearance. I thought about many of those fun-filled encounters at the Chromium Shaft Club. Somehow, all that - all my own world - seemed so far away; so remote, distant, almost as if I could not bring myself to believe that it was really real. Finally, I found myself thinking about Selene, my half-sister. Although I had barely even touched her, I had detected an incredible sexual warmth coming from her. I felt as if there was practically nothing preventing her from reaching out to me, running her hands over my face and neck and breasts, and exploring with increasing urgency the openings between my breasts and between my legs. As I was thinking these sexy thoughts, I realized I had instinctively begun to run my hands over my breasts and explore the soft opening between them. It seemed to be getting warmer in the bed - it was probably just me - and I threw off the constraining covers and lay naked on the mattress. I slid my hands down over my own belly and between my legs. To my surprise, but more to my entire delight, I found myself wet and open, my pussy lips already moist under my own insistent fingertips. I curved my body and curled up my legs, tucking the backs of my knees behind my arms, grateful that I was so flexible - although plenty of other people have been grateful of my flexibility, too. I pressed the tips of my fingers and my thumb together, forming a cone. Slowly, I eased my hand inside me, while I stimulating my clit with the fingers of my other hand. I was fucking myself with my fist, my lips closed around my wrist. the pleasure was intense - and just a little pain, too - and I knew I would come soon. I suppressed my cries as best I could; I did not want the sudden attentions of my gaolers just at this precise moment. With a final pressing effort, I could feel the precious sphere between my fingertips. It came loose as I came, my orgasm hard, my muscles rippling powerfully against my wrist. I swiftly withdrew my hand from inside me, a cry escaping my lips despite my best efforts at silence. My convulsions spurted the container and an astonishing amount of my own juices over the rumpled white sheet on which I was laying. Success, finally - twice-fold. I felt a lot happier after that orgasm - much closer to my normal horny self - and I had got that precious container from inside me.
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Part 2