Chapter 23: Planned Outcome
David was in his study, the blue light of his monitor etching deep shadows under his eyes. He looked hollowed out, a used vessel. “Carol’s?” he said, not turning around. His voice was flat. “Sure.”
She nodded, a gesture he couldn’t see, and turned toward the kitchen. The prescription bottles were lined up on the counter like soldiers: the red ones and white ones from Dr. Thorne, the unlabeled bottle of blues.
Her own dampness was a constant whisper. The flesh between her legs felt expansive, complicated, a wet maze. Her breasts ached in their now under-sized lace bra, the nipples abrasive against the fabric. She opened the red bottle, shook one into her palm. The familiar chemical candy smell. She swallowed it dry, the pill sticking for a moment in her tight throat. Then a white one, for the sharp edges it sometimes filed down.
But the edges felt necessary now. She needed to be all nerve-ending, all hungry animal. She pocketed the blue bottle.
The car was a humid capsule of her own scent. As she pulled out of the driveway, a deep, rolling clench moved through her pelvis, an internal fist squeezing her full cunt. Fluid, warm and sudden, leaked out, soaking the thin pad she’d worn. She shifted on the leather seat, the sound obscenely wet.
Traffic was a slow river of red lights. Each stop and start shifted her weight, pressed the soaked padding against her swollen labia. A memory flashed: Carol’s mouth, demanding, devouring. The image triggered another violent, involuntary contraction. Her back arched off the seat. A low moan fogged the windshield.
“Not now, not now,” she chanted through gritted teeth, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles blanched.
It was useless. The new pills were a chemical symphony tuning her body to a single, screaming note. A thick pulse began between her legs, a rhythmic throbbing that had nothing to do with her heart. It built with terrifying speed, a wave with no crest, just a sudden, seismic release.
Her eyes screwed shut for a dangerous second. White light exploded behind her lids. Her cunt didn’t just spasm; it seemed to yawn open and gush. A hot jet of fluid soaked through the pad, her underwear, her skirt, and hit the leather seat with an audible patter. Another burst followed, and another, a short, desperate series of squirts that emptied her even as the need remained. The car filled with the dense, salty-sweet smell of her release.
Her foot slipped off the brake. The car lurched forward. Horns blared. She slammed the brake again, her body jerking against the seatbelt, now sitting in a warm, spreading puddle of her own making. She was panting, dripping, humiliated, and violently, electrically alive. The wet leather made a sucking sound as she adjusted her weight.
Carol’s apartment building loomed. Eleanor climbed out, the cold night air a shock on her damp thighs. The stain on her skirt was dark, unmistakable. She didn’t bother with her coat, just let it hide her as she walked stiffly to the door.
Carol answered immediately, as if she’d been standing right there. She took in Eleanor’s flushed face, the tremor in her hands. “You’re early.” Her eyes dropped to the dark patch on the skirt. “And you’ve started without us.”
She pulled Eleanor inside. The apartment smelled of lemon cleaner and weed. Mark was on the couch, drinking a beer. He looked normal, a handsome, slightly worn man in a faded band t-shirt and jeans. He gave a small, awkward wave.
“Hey, El. You okay? You look… intense.”
“She took another one of her pills,” Carol said, slipping the blue bottle from Eleanor’s coat pocket. She held it up, shaking it. The rattle was loud in the quiet room. “And she brought these.”
Mark’s gaze fixed on the bottle. His casual posture stiffened. “Those are the…”
“The ones David took. Yeah.” Carol popped the cap. A single blue pill sat in the plastic well. She tipped it into her palm. “Eleanor came so hard driving over here she made a puddle in her car.” She looked from the pill to Mark, her expression challenging. “You want to feel that? That kind of… abandon?”
Mark swallowed. His eyes flicked to Eleanor, who was leaning against the doorframe, trying to steady her breathing. The memory of their threesome was in the room—the sweat, the strain, the overwhelming fullness. He’d enjoyed it, but he’d been human. Finite. This promised something else.
“What’s it going to do to me?” he asked, his voice low.
“David stayed hard,” Eleanor said, the words dragged from some clinical part of her brain that still functioned. “For hours. You’ll orgasm multiple times. Possibly… forcefully. David said it felt like his orgasms were being ripped out of him.” She paused. “The comedown is disorienting. It can be depressive.”
Mark stared at the pill in Carol’s hand. It was a tiny thing. Insignificant. “Hours?” he murmured.
Carol walked over to him, placed the pill in his own palm. “Take it with your beer. Let’s see what happens.” She then took a second blue pill for herself. “Fuck it. If we’re going, we’re going.”
“Carol, no,” Eleanor breathed. “We don’t know what it’ll do to a woman.”
“We’re about to find out.” Carol dry-swallowed hers with a defiant grimace. Mark, after a last hesitation, knocked his back with a long pull of lager.
For a moment, nothing. The clock on the wall ticked. The refrigerator hummed.
Then Mark gasped. He dropped the beer bottle. It rolled on the carpet, foaming. He clutched his groin. Through the denim, the change was visibly dramatic. His cock, soft moments before, swelled to a full, rigid erection in seconds, straining the zipper, tenting the fabric into a pronounced, obscene peak. He groaned, a sound of profound shock. “Oh, fuck. It’s… it’s like it’s got a heartbeat.”
Carol was breathing faster. She peeled off her shirt. Her small breasts looked the same, but her nipples were pebbled tight. She rubbed a hand over her flat stomach. “I feel… warm. Everywhere. Itchy.”
“It needs friction,” Eleanor heard herself say. Her own new wetness was already pooling again, readying. The sight of Mark, bulging and groaning, was a key turning in her lock.
Carol didn’t need encouragement. She pushed Mark back onto the couch, yanking his jeans and boxers down to his knees. His cock sprang free, already glistening at the tip. It was his usual size, but it looked different—throbbing, the veins pronounced, an urgent, living thing. Carol stroked it once, twice, her hand moving fast and rough.
Mark cried out. “Jesus, careful, it’s—oh god—” His hips bucked. A pearl of pre-come welled and dripped.
Carol looked at Eleanor, her eyes wild. “Get over here. I want him in you first. I want to watch what it does.”
Eleanor’s legs carried her forward. She hiked her soaked skirt up, peeling her ruined underwear down her thighs. She was obscenely wet, her altered labia glistening and puffy. She didn’t need guidance. She straddled Mark’s lap, the head of his cock nudging against her slick entrance. She lowered herself slowly, taking him in.
The feeling was catastrophic. He was so hard it was almost unyielding, a rigid pole spearing up into her sensitive, spongy depths. He filled her completely, stretching her tender new flesh. She rocked, a slow, grinding descent, until he was fully sheathed.
“Fuck,” Mark snarled, his hands digging into her hips. “You’re so… hot. And tight. Tighter than before.”
It was the new folds, gripping him like a fist. Eleanor began to move, rising and falling. Each stroke rubbed her engorged clit against his pelvic bone. Pleasure, sharp and bright, lanced through her. But it was his reaction that was transfixing. His eyes were wide, unblinking, fixed on where their bodies joined. His breath came in ragged pants.
“I’m already… I can’t stop it…” he warned, his voice tight.
“Come,” Carol whispered, kneeling beside them, her hand stroking his balls. “Come in her.”
It was as if she’d flipped a switch. Mark’s body went rigid. A raw, tearing shout tore from his throat. Eleanor felt his cock jerk violently inside her, once, twice, a third time, pumping hot jets of come deep into her cunt. The pulses were strong, distinct, each one wracking his entire frame.
But he didn’t soften. He didn’t even wilt. As the last spurts faded, his cock remained a thick, hard column inside her, still pulsing with its own frantic rhythm. He was panting, drenched in sweat, staring at the ceiling in bewildered ecstasy. “Well fuck me,” he slurred. “It’s still… I’m still right there.”
His awe was a brake. Eleanor could feel it in the slight hesitance of his hands on her hips. Her own body, a slick and hungry engine, demanded the opposite. That profound, chemical wetness from the car still coated her inner thighs, making the slide easier, and her voice, when it came, was a guttural snarl that belonged to a stranger.
“Stop being amazed and just use it,” she growled, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. “Fuck me, Mark. Don’t just lie there. Pound this desperate cunt.”
Her words electrocuted him. The intellectual shock vanished, replaced by a deeper, spinal need. His hands clamped down, vise-like, and he drove up into her with a single, brutal thrust that knocked the air from her lungs. The rhythm that followed was not making love; it was a piston-stroke, a relentless mechanical drive. The wet slap of their skin filled the room, a rapid, obscene percussion.
Carol watched, her own breathing shallow and fast. The blue pill was a simmering wildfire in her veins, concentrating in a throbbing, unfamiliar ache between her legs. She needed friction, needed to be consumed. Seeing Mark’s face, twisted in a rictus of continuous pleasure, gave her the target.
She climbed onto the couch, one knee on either side of Mark’s head. She gripped the back of the couch for balance. Her small breasts swayed, her tattoos stretching over taut skin. “You’re not done,” she told him, her voice husky and low. She lowered herself, guiding her slick folds directly over his mouth. “Lick. Now.”
Mark’s eyes, wide and glazed, rolled upward. The sensation of Eleanor riding his cock was one overwhelming current; the sudden, salty-musk taste of Carol flooding his mouth was another. He groaned, the vibration passing into Carol’s flesh. He opened his mouth, his tongue pushing out in a weak, automatic stroke.
“Harder, goddammit,” Carol demanded, grinding herself down against his face. She reached back, spreading her labia wider, shoving her swollen clit against his lips. “Suck it. Like you mean it.”
Obedient, overwhelmed, Mark’s tongue focused. He licked a firm, flat stripe through her heat, then circled the tight, twitching bud. Carol gasped, her head falling back. “Yes. Just like that. Don’t you fucking stop.”
Above him, Eleanor was a woman unraveling. The dual sensations were monstrous and exquisite. Mark’s cock, impossibly hard, hammered into her deepest places, each thrust jolting her clit against him. Below, she could feel the vibrations of his muffled groans as he ate Carol out, could see Carol’s thighs trembling. She fucked him with abandon, her body a machine of pure need, her own moans a continuous, ragged stream.
“I’m gonna come again,” Mark grunted, his words slurred and wet against Carol’s flesh. “Oh Christ, I can’t—it’s coming—”
“Do it!” both women shouted, their voices merging.
His orgasm was less a peak than a seismic continuation. His hips stuttered, then slammed up and held, buried deep inside Eleanor. Hot, wet pulses, less voluminous but just as intense, shot into her, mingling with the first deposit. His entire body shook, his thighs quaking. Yet through the violent tremor, his cock remained rigid, a steel rod encased in her convulsing heat.
He never stopped licking. The stimulation from his mouth was constant, a frantic, wet cadence on Carol’s clit as his own pleasure shattered her. Carol’s cry was a sharp, broken thing. She ground down hard, her body seizing as a frantic, shallow orgasm ripped through her, her juices slicking his chin and throat.
For a suspended moment, the only sounds were their harrowed breathing and the wet, intimate noises of their still-joined bodies. Mark’s cock, utterly spent and yet stubbornly, unnaturally hard, twitched inside Eleanor. He lay pinned beneath them, a vessel of pure sensation, his world reduced to taste and touch and an erection that refused to subside.