Posted by Rathead on May 01, 2003 at 01:45:08:
He found himself in total darkness. With his eyes unengaged, the other senses equalized and supplied him with a stream of intensified impressions. It was warm here, wherever "here" might have been. He felt like he resided indoors; the touch of warmth felt equally all over his body. He noticed he was undressed. To make sure he briefly touched his dick--yup, naked, and his bare feet rested on something like a very soft, deep carpet.
His ears compensated for the silence by producing a slight, atmospheric noise. He noticed the scent of flowers and fruits, very pleasing. When he turned his attention to it he caught a touch of something different, something feminine. A perfume; dark, earthy, fleshy and arousing.
He hadn't moved yet and now he felt like he should do something--but what? He tried to remember where he was or where he had been before--no result. He tried to remember, who he was--no result. His memory was completely empty; no name, no past, nothing. He even couldn't remember what he looked like. Moving in his body, he found that it felt healthy, strong, and agile; touching his bodies surface he felt smooth skin, no fat, and a well developed musculature.
What to do now? He had to find out about this place and began to walk. Since there was nothing to give him any orientation he followed his nose heading the direction that erotic scent seemed to come from. After clearing his throat, he called: "Hello? Does anybody hear me?" His voice sounded strange when it disturbed the silence. No hall, no echo. Just a dry sound immediately swallowed by the heavy quietness around him.
Walking through the darkness he began to realize just how large the room was. He could sense there were no obstacles to collide with. It was like walking a football pitch at night. His general disorientation had spoiled his sense of time and soon he felt as if he had been walking for hours. Then he perceived the scent becoming stronger. Stopping for a moment, he asked once more: "Anybody around?" No answer again. He went on more carefully than before since now he had a vague feeling of something in front of him. The impression intensified, and finally he halted. There was something in the darkness, not more than three meters away! Something living. He froze and his hair stood on end when he heard the soft noise of a breathing creature. "Hello...?" He whispered. Some moments passed, then he heard the voice of a human being. It was a short giggle, definitely feminine. He relaxed a little.
"Please say something!" He asked, moving forward a few steps until he felt like the woman was only an arms length or two in front of him. Still in total darkness it was like he could perceive the hot and intensive presence the woman rayed out. Then he heard her voice, dark and sexy and with a slight touch of mocking in it: "So you found me. Once again."
"Who are you? And who am I? Where am I? Why is it as fucking dark as hell here? And what do you mean with that 'once again'?"
She kept him waiting for a few moments, he only heard her respiration and a sucking noise, until she answered: "Lots of questions. You will learn, when time has come. You want some light?"
He felt as if he had been struck blind when suddenly a little brightness arose--though it was only a dim, reddish light focused on the women in front of him. Her image burned into his retina: Lounging between pillows on a large bed in a voluptuous pose, her sinful body barely dressed in a gleaming negligee of white satin, contrasting with her short, dense black hair. Her dark eyes looked straight into his face while she took a grape out of a fruit bowl and chewed on it, licking her sensual lips.
Now he learned another little thing about his identity: Very obviously he was not gay. All his confusion about himself and the situation hadn't prevented him from producing a spontaneous and strong erection. He looked down for a moment and felt very satisfied with what he saw. The woman still gazed into his face, but a little smile indicated that she hadn't missed the proof of her impact on him.
"I never cease to have this effect on you, do I? You still love me," She cooed.
"I can't remember...I can't remember a fucking thing...who are you?"
"Come a little closer, honey, maybe you recognize me then," Her clucking, erotic voice included a slight nuance of derisiveness again, and her forefinger pointed to the bed beside her.
He took a seat there, entering the hotness of this arcane woman's sphere, touching the cool satin of her negligee. She scratched slightly over his chest with a blood red fingernail while she leaned forward, until only inches separated their faces. "You still don't recognize me, do you?" She whispered.
He didn't. Staring into her dark eyes, surrounded by the blurred cream of her face, brought back some vague reminiscence; something extremely emotional, but he couldn't get a hold of it.
She smiled and said gently: "Don't worry. I'll help you, but we will take our time with it, I don't want you to fall into shock if all comes back in a rush...Let's start the therapy with this," She embraced him, pulling him down with her as she dropped back into the pillows.
"Kiss me, hon', that will help you to remember."
He didn't need any more encouragement; for the moment he had lost his interest in receiving information. He was flooded by needs of higher urgency now. They kissed, and when his tongue invaded her mouth and their juices joined his hardon turned to steel mode.
He fell deep into passion. The groans she produced as soon as his hand was sliding under the lace to caress her warm and heavy breasts indicated that she didn't need any warming up either. "Fuck me. Now!" She whispered into his ear. It seemed as if she had been waiting for this and was prepared perfectly: When he moved the silky hem up to her belly and entered her pussy it was hot and wet and swallowed his organ hungrily.
Without much finesse, but with perfect synchronization, they fucked hard and wild and their moans along with the sharp scent of their sweat filled the air around this bed in the midst of nowhere. Like variety artists who had performed together for years, they acted jointly, in fluent moves they changed positions and finally she rode him, her pelvis hammering down on him, her wet and shiny buttocks slapping loudly on his thighs. Her negligee had crumpled around her belly and he enjoyed the sight of her magnificent breasts swaying wildly above him, and her distorted facial expression displayed lust and agony all in one. Close to climax he felt no pain at all as her fingernails scratched deep and bloody traces rose on his chest. They climaxed concurrently.
Wrapped up close together, they rested for some minutes in silence.
Then, fondling his semi-rigid dick she asked: "Now any remembrance returning, Michael?"
Michael! Of course, Michael! And she was...she was...damn, he knew...then he got it: "Diana! You're Diana!"
She smiled sweetly: "You see? Sex is the best remedy. And do you remember the nature of our relationship?"
"Hmm...we fucked before, this much is certain...but...no, can't get it. We are couple, right?"
She laughed: "Oh baby, we were, but now we're more than that. Much more! You couldn't separate from me even if you wanted to. Mmmmm...I think you need a little more of that good medicine...and I need a little more of your tongue. But wait a moment while I fetch us some drinks and clean myself up. You left a mess in my pussy. Don't go away!"
She rose and vanished from the small illuminated area.
Michael inertly stayed on the bed. A drink would be fine, and more of this kind of medicine would be even better. A little fucking, a little remembrance...as far as he was concerned this could go on for a long time.
When she reappeared, she was carrying two glasses and a small bottle. She handed one of the glasses to him. "Bordeaux for you, Chablis for me, like we always had."
He sipped: This was after his fancy. And another thing after his fancy was Diana's pussy, which now lowered down on his face. He couldn't see much in the dim light but his lips couldn't miss the direction. Kissing, sucking and licking the tender flesh of her inner thighs, slowly nearing the aromatic center, while his dick proudly erected again, sucked into the warm wetness of Diana's mouth. Under the weight of her body, his head stuck between her thighs, he licked his way along her lips and found the delicate little knob. Caressing it with his tongue he felt his balls being massaged and heard the smacking noises of her sucking while her abdomen rotated in small circles on his face.
After a while, with Diana's groans increasing, he felt his arms becoming heavy. Heavy like lead. He couldn't continue to stoke the sweet buttocks above his face. His arms fell down onto the bed and he wasn't able to lift them again. A strange feeling spread inside his belly.
"Diana," He spoke, his voice dull from under her. "Was there something wrong with the wine? I feel strange!"
"Never mind! Just go on, honey."
He felt uneasy, but still horny. Her handling of his dick became wilder; he felt her teeth chewing on it viciously. He shouted: "Hey, that hurts!"
She didn't answer, she just continued biting and rubbed her cunt with more pressure against his face. He became short of breath and tried to move his head out of this trap--but he wasn't able to do so: His neck, like his arms, had become completely immobile. He could move his lips, he could speak, but that was all he was still able to do. Now he began to panic. He tried to shake Diana off his body but no way: He was paralysed all over. Diana didn't seem to care at all and worked on lustily, using his now passive and uncooperative face to get more stimulation. Since he had stopped working his tongue for her pleasure she rubbed her clit against his nose. His cries provided extra heat for her cunt. He wondered why his dick still performed perfectly--every hint of arousal had vanished from his mind. He felt nothing but fear now.
Finally she released her weight from his face and he was able to take some deep breaths. "Oh Diana, what happened to me?"
She changed her position, impaling her cunt deeply onto his dick, leaning her hands on his chest. She looked down at him. "How do you feel, Michael?"
"What happened to me? I can't move!"
"You were never a real epicure, were you? Didn't notice the extra little aroma in your wine? Like I always said: You're a bumpkin. Why do you drink these pretentious wines if you don't have the tongue for it?"
"You poisoned me! But why?" Looking up into her face he saw cruel humor mixed with the expression of lust.
"Don't worry about the poison. It's not the poison that will kill you. What do you think you are here for? What do you think I will do to you?"
"You wouldn't kill me, would you?"
Continuing to rotate her pelvis around his dick, she closed her eyes for a while and enjoyed it, moaning. Then again staring into his fearful eyes, stroking his face very softly with the sharp nail of her pinky, letting him feel the threat as she neared his eyes, she finally answered: "Of course I will kill you. I'm killing you each time."
She relished his fear and confusion before answering his unvoiced question: "You think you could only die once? Do you want to get back all of your memory?"
"I'm going nuts...yes, let me understand what this is all about!"
"No problem, honey. But watching you while you understand it all is the best part for me. So I hope you don't mind if I prolong it a bit. You don't mind if I slice one or two parts of your body before?"
Out of nowhere she had a knife in her hand; short, sharp and with double blades. Michael couldn't believe it when she poked it into his left nostril, grinning down at him evilly.
"No...no...you can´t..."
Snickering, and with an impetuous move of her hand she ripped his nose open. He cried out and she said jeeringly: "Tsk, tsk...don't you ever get used to this? You've suffered so much more than this before--and you will again and again..." She bent down and kissed his mouth, licking away some of the blood. Despite his pain he noticed the moisture of her lips and the soft, warm pressure of her tits on his chest.
"Oh, please...why? My God, why did you do this?"
"Hmm...do you think you need this any longer?" she asked, holding the blade against his right nipple. A slow cut, more blood. Michael cried out again.
"Only once more, then you'll get the truth you're longing for, okay? It's quite dark, isn't it? You don't need both of your eyes here, do you? Which one shall I cut out? This one...?" she neared the cusp of the knife to his right eye, "Or this one?" Now the knife nearly touched his left eye. "At your option, Michael."
His pleading and begging was stopped by a vicious slap at his head. "Choose one, or I take both," she hissed coldly.
"No, please, do everything, but spare me this!"
Diana smiled. "You mean everything? Really?"
"Yes...yes...just don't do this!"
"Ok, Michael, my love. You helped me hit on a better idea. And after all you should SEE the truth. Didn't you wonder what was in this little bottle?" She showed him the vial she had brought along with the drinks earlier. "You don't want a knife in your eyes? We will see what this liquid will do to them. But don't panic! We'll try that later. Now I'll say the code word, which brings back your memory. Are you ready?"
She grinned cruelly and Michael knew these memories would be a horror trip--but he needed to understand what all this surrealistic madness meant. "Yes, I want to know."
"PARIS 2011!"
It all came back to Michael like a flash flood. The excessive force of the memories suddenly flooding his mind tore him out of this strange place. He was back in the past.
Paris, the year 2011. Diana and Michael worked as interns at the same hospital, both of them were not only the most talented among the younger physicians but also Mr. And Ms. Beautiful--it was only a matter of time until they became a couple; admired and envied by all their colleagues.
Their stormy love affair lasted for nearly one year. Then a chance for promotion occurred. Diana and Michael were the best among candidates that came into consideration--but only one of them could score.
He tried to keep the competition fair.
She won.
Then he heard it through the grape vine: She had helped her career a little by screwing the head physician. He took her to task; she admitted everything. Laughing at his stupidity she told him that she had planned to end their relationship for quite a while anyways. They departed in hate. He swore revenge. She laughed. Her laughter ended three nights later when three men burgled her flat and came into her bedroom. When they left, after hours of raping her, one of them relayed the message: "With best regards from a former friend..."
Two days later he received an email from Diana. The message was short: "Wait."
He became a bit nervous. She could do the same thing he did; hire some thugs for an attack. But nothing happened, and after he had moved to another city Diana and her open account slowly faded out of his mind.
Three years later he was attacked and kidnapped during a vacation trip in Algeria. He didn't relate this with Diana, he expected a ransom demand. An unknown time after he got an injection that knocked him out, he woke up at a place that looked like a hospital room and he felt relieved: It seemed he was safe again. That biggest error of his life. This was the antechamber of his own, personal Hell.
He tried to stand up and noticed he was strapped down. He shouted for help and after some minutes the door opened and an elegant lady entered. She wore a gray business dress and a black, broad-brimmed hat--he didn't recognize her until she stood beside his bed and looked down on him. "Hello Michael," she said slowly and articulately. And coldly.
"My God! Diana!"
"Happy to see me again?" No sign of emotion showed in her face.
He wasn't stupid. He recognized that he was in big trouble now but he tried to act cool.
"Finally you got me, eh? What are you going to do now?"
She took a seat. "What would you suggest I do?"
"Okay, it was a mistake. I am very sorry...you know I loved you so much, I lost my mind...how can I make up for it? Let's talk reasonably."
"Yes, it was a mistake. But we don't need to talk about it--I took a lot of time to think about it myself. You know, it would have been easy to get someone kill you, but I couldn't make up my mind on how to kill you. Whatever I pondered it seemed so insufficient...You would be dead in the end and find your rest. Then I considered having them blind you, break your back, slice your tongue and pierce your drumheads, leaving you living like that...but then again I didn't like to forego your death. A real dilemma, you see? I wanted to kill you without letting you escape. I wanted to kill you again and again. Eat my cake and have it too,"
She talked herself into a rage. Calming down, she lit a cigarette.
"You don't mind?" she asked, casually blowing the smoke in his face.
"Three years ago I found the perfect solution. The only little problem was...well, it was not only extremely illegal, but also extremely expensive. I had to find a big spender. And I found one, he's my husband now. He's a boring fuck, but his money will pay this little game."
"Let's talk about it, Diana! I'm prepared to -"
"Oh, honey, you bet you're prepared. I paid a lot of money for your preparation. And for the preparation of everything else. When this little chat is over, you will face an operation and then you will find your place for the rest of your life, which hopefully will be long."
Two men in surgical coats entered the room. "Can we start?"
"No, I haven't finished giving this patient the necessary explanation on the process," she smiled. "You know, informing him of the risks and side effects of this operation. I'll call you when I'm ready."
The men left.
"You will stay here in Algeria for the next few years, at the basement of this discreet little hospital. Then, one day my dear husband will die, and I'll take you home."
"I don't understand...what will happen to me now?"
"Don't ask me for technical details, not my specialty...my only interest is the result. The result will be this: Your body will be integrated in a life-support-system, kindov like a high-tech coffin, where you can survive for decades without any further support. As long as no power outage occurs. Your body will stay in total stupor, but not your brain. Your brain will be connected to a Virtual Reality-unit via an implanted dedicated line. You will live inside this virtual reality for the rest of your life, and this one is perfect: No chance to perceive any difference to real life. And now come the good features: I will select the realities you will find yourself in. And you don't think these will be very pleasant do you? You will go through everything that human beings have ever suffered. You will die and then you'll be alive again and suffer the next torture. I think this is as close to Hell as one can get."
She smiled viciously.
"But I always felt there is a small imperfection in the basic concept of hell. And may I immodestly say, I found an improvement? What I mean is this: If you are tortured day-in, day-out you could get used to it. You know: Your body still hurts, but your mind deadens, the psychological side of the pain is dissatisfying. Now here's my idea: Why not cause amnesia each time you die? Then the next scene comes and you will never get used to it...you will never know you died dozens or hundreds or thousands of times before. The terror stays fresh. And the specialists told me: No problem at all."
She lit another cigarette, while he stared at her with bewildered horror.
"Sometimes you will be yourself, sometimes you will be a completely different person...male or female...you will have the chance to experience some of the things the Mongols did to the women of cities they´d conquered...you will suffer every disease known to men...And here comes the best: As soon as I can take you home I will plug in and I will play with you personally. You will be my toy, always ready when I'm in the mood for a little game."
Pale as a sheet he asked: "You're just scaring me...you won't do that for real, will you?"
She smiled.
"You don't have to believe me. Just see yourself. And now it's time to say goodbye for some years. Gimme a little parting kiss, Michael."
She bent down and gently kissed his lips.
Leaving the room she turned to him for a last farewell: "Have a pleasant trip, till we meet again!" She smiled wickedly, waved her hand briefly and walked out.
The two men reappeared, applied another injection without taking any notice of his protests. Darkness fell over him.
The memories now continued with an endless sequence of hundreds of short, bright snapshots embedded in black nothingness: Staring at his guts on a battlefield. Feeling a wooden pole entering his/her vagina. A lion jumping at him accompanied by the laughter of the audience. The fire licking its way up his legs on a pyre...and again and again Diana's happy, grinning face as the last thing he saw before his demise. He cried...
And cried...when the memories faded and he found himself back on that bed under the dim, red light.
Diana lolled on a chair beside the bed and sipped on her wine.
"You've seen enough for today? Unfortunately I have to leave you now, there is a party tonight...you know I don't like to be late. But I don't want you to be bored without me, so look at this!"
She took the vial and presented it to him. "Hydrochloric acid. Very concentrated."
Michael was too stunned and exhausted by the horror trip he had experienced to plead or protest seriously. She unscrewed the bottle and said: "Like you said: Everything but the knife, now eat this!"
The last thing he saw before the gush of cold liquid hit his face was Diana's elegant, perfectly manicured hand holding and then tipping the vial above him.
In his yelling agony he heard her voice from far away. "Eaaaa...that looks ugly! All that foam!"
Then he felt more cold fluid on his chest, belly and dick. "Now I really must go and do my makeup. Have fun Michael, until we meet again!"
She vanished and Michael died alone.
Diana plugged out and found herself back in the basement of her house. She rose from the chair and looked down on the massive, coffin-like container. A plate covered Michael's body, but his head lay free with that thick cable disappearing in his temple. Seven year old tech, a bit clumsy, but still working perfectly. She stroked his relaxed face softly and muttered: "You look so peaceful..." but a look at the monitor above his head, displaying his brain activities, proved the opposite: Wildly oscillating curves indicating a maximum level of pain.
"You can't get enough of that good ol' cybersex, can you?" she mumbled and pressed the auto-restart button.
"This should keep you busy for the next couple of days."