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AUTHOR’S NOTE: “Allison’s Addiction” is a joint literary effort. I joined forces with an author named Anon140 in order to create this story. If you like this story, he should get part of the credit. As always, if you have any suggestions to improve the story, please click on my name, and e-mail me your suggestions.
* * * * *
I continued to have wet dreams about Chloe.
In one of them, I was naked and on a wooden stage. A female dressed in black boots, black jeans and a black t-shirt, held a whip in one hand and grabbed me by the scalp with the other, she dragged me across the stage my yanking on my hair and I followed her helplessly.
There was a crowd with scores of boisterous, excited people surrounding the stage. Nobody explained it to me, but somehow, I knew that this was a slave auction, and I was there to be bid upon. And then, the auctioneer called out to them in a familiar voice:
“Lovely naked dancer! Blonde, with firm, little breasts and dancer’s legs! And situated on top of those legs, you’ll find the most delicious buttocks to ever grace the female form!”
I recognized that voice. That was Chloe’s voice. Why was my best friend doing this to me?
Before I could ask the question out loud, Chloe yanked my head down, forcing me to bend over at the waist. She had maneuvered me so that my buttocks were facing the crowd, then she kicked my legs apart, thus presenting my pubic lips to the crowd, in addition to my buttocks.
“You won’t find a shapelier rear-end than this on any other woman in the entire state of California! What am I bid for her?”
I heard a loud insistent voice call out a bid for two-thousand dollars. That person was quickly outbid by another loud voice. And then a third voice outbid the second bidder.
The bidding stopped at six-thousand dollars, but then Chloe took her leather whip and smacked me across my bare buttocks several times. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!! The sharp pain caused me to let out an agonized scream. The crowd roared with approval as I wailed and moaned in pain, and suddenly the bids started to climb again.
The way I was being abused, controlled and publicly humiliated should have outraged me into a blind, red-hot fury, but instead, I found myself overcome with sexual need, and wanton, feverish desire. Having my naked body exposed in public and being abused by my best friend was causing my sex to throb with hungry spasms, and causing my entire body to be gripped with an uncommon sexual heat.
I was savoring the abuse and the lewd, public exposure of my naked body, and the bidding continued to rise until they reached sixty-thousand before they stagnated.
“Are you really going to allow a libidinous wench like this to go for a mere sixty-thousand?” Chloe roared at the crowd, “She is eager to be your sexual plaything! Just look at this!!”
I was still bent over at the waist and my legs were still spread indecently wide, and then I felt Chloe’s hand reaching between my legs, and cupping my vulva. She toyed with my swollen pubic lips, before forcing them apart and then thrust two fingers inside of me, making me moan.
She probed my intimate interior, causing me to squirm my hips and gasp as she stimulated sensitive nerve-endings within me. I panted helplessly as she brought my needy body closer and closer to orgasm, and then I whimpered miserably, as she withdrew her fingers from my hungry, pulsing sex.
“See how wet she is for you,” Chloe cried out, and although I was bent over and staring at the ground, I somehow knew she was holding up her hand for the crowd to see how it was soaked with my sexual juices.
The crowd went berserk after that, and bids were called out faster than the auctioneer could confirm them. Twenty-thousand rapidly because forty-thousand. Forty-thousand rapidly became eighty-thousand. Eighty-thousand rapidly became one-hundred and twenty-thousand.
I was impressed! I was a very popular commodity, to get such furious and competitive bidding! And who called out that winning bid? Who wanted me so fervently, that they were willing to pay almost a quarter of a million dollars?
Chloe yanked my head up and I was handed over to the woman who now owned me. It turned out that the winning bidder was Hannah Richter, Chloe’s friend who worked at Johnson and Johnson. How much did they pay her, that she could afford to bid so much on a naked slave-girl?
* * * * *
I awoke with a gasp and panted as I slowly recovered from such a feverishly sexual and emotionally intense dream.
I thought it was odd that I would (at the post-pubescent age of twenty-two) start having wet dreams about someone of my own gender. I had gone through my teenage years without once having a wet dream or a sexual fantasy about another female, and now I was having wet dreams about Chloe every night. And why was I getting aroused fethiye escort at the thought of being helpless, controlled and humiliated? That had never been a sexual turn-on of mine before. Why did the thought of being naked, submissive and humiliated suddenly stir my loins up into a sexual turmoil?
I should have been greatly disturbed by this radical change in my sexual identity, however the orgasms I was having were so potent and utterly delicious, I decided not to worry about my changing sexuality.
After one of my potent and erotic dreams about Chloe, I would often wake up with a throbbing, feverish need in my loins, and I’d be unable to fall to sleep unless I masturbated myself to orgasm. Invariably, I would think about Chloe while I squeezed, twisted and pulled on my throbbing nipples with one hand, and fingered my wet, pulsing sex with the other.
It would be around one or two in the morning when I would wake up from these wet dreams, and Chloe was already heavily on my mind. Since she was already a potent force in my subconscious, it was easier to think of her face, her lips, her voice and her hands when I was awake and dealing with my sexual needs, than to try and conjure up someone else in my mind as I masturbated.
And, of course, I saw Chloe every day, so remembering everything about her, was easier than visualizing another person to be the protagonist of my sexual fantasies. Chloe was the first person I saw every morning after I woke up, and the last person I saw in the evening before I went to bed. Also, let’s be honest, she was a very attractive woman.
Of course, I didn’t mention any of this to Doctor Khorkina.
When I went in to see her for my follow-up visit, I explained how beneficial the drug had been in rescuing me from chronic fatigue. I was no longer lethargic and wasting my life away on the couch. In truth, I was bouncy with energy. I felt like a teenager on the first day of summer vacation! I felt like an athlete at the height of her career!
“I’m very happy that the modirall has worked so well for you,” Doctor Khorkina said, “I’d like to take you off it for a while and see if you continue to do well.”
“Take me off it?” I asked, taken aback, “But, it’s saved my life! It might just be the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Why take me off it?”
She did that doctor-thing, where she had a stolidly calm disposition, despite the fact that the person in front of her was a turbulent storm of emotion.
“The manufacturers of modirall never planned on it being taken for long term use,” Doctor Khorkina explained phlegmatically, “It’s supposed be used as a sort of a jumpstart to reset your metabolism, and get your energy levels back to where they’re supposed to be.”
I really, really didn’t want to be taken off this drug, but I also didn’t want to tell Doctor Khorkina the real reasons behind why I craved this drug so badly.
“What if my fatigue comes back?” I asked, although I was far more concerned about losing the sexual high that I’d been wallowing in.
“If it comes back, contact my office immediately,” Doctor Khorkina replied helpfully, “However, it’s unlikely that it will resurface. Thus far, the modirall has been surprisingly effective at rebooting the metabolism and getting people back on their feet. I think you’ll be fine.”
Fine? I didn’t want to be fine! I wanted to be indulging in the most potent sex drive and the most overwhelming orgasms that a woman had ever known! Fine wasn’t good enough anymore!!
I still had a few pills left. I was hoping that I could come up with a plan to get more.
* * * * *
Okay, I wasn’t a genius, but I had the bare bones of a plan by 2:30 that afternoon. Chloe worked over at the Fairhaven Athletic Center. Some of her co-workers were medical doctors. I was wondering if Chloe could talk one of the doctors there into supplying me with modirall.
I mean…not all doctors will have the same opinions as far as when a drug is necessary and when it’s not, right?
Chloe was between clients, and I found her in her office. That gave us some privacy, which was fortunate. I needed to ask her for a favor, and having her clients and co-workers around would just make things more complicated and awkward.
Having caught her alone, I thought my odds of me getting her cooperation were excellent, but it didn’t turn out that way.
“Allison, I love you like a sister,” Chloe said, “But this plan isn’t going to work.”
“What? Why not? You are friends with these doctors,” I said insistently, “Right?”
Chloe shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. That was a sign that I was annoying her, so I bit my tongue and tried to rethink what I was doing. I was clearly doing something wrong here.
“Even if I could talk one of the doctors here into writing prescriptions for my friends,” Chloe began, “Modirall is an experimental drug. It hasn’t been approved by the escort fethiye FDA yet. Doctors can’t write prescriptions for drugs like that. The only reason Doctor Khorkina was able to get you modirall was because somebody at Brie gave them to her, so she could participate in testing the drug’s effectiveness.”
“Um,” I said, feeling foolish for not spotting this flaw in my plan.
“Why is this even so important?” Chloe asked, “If your fatigue returns, I’m sure Doctor Khorkina will put you back on the modirall.”
I considered concocting some sort of elaborate lie, but I found I just couldn’t do it. Chloe was my best friend, and I had already deceived her too much as it was, so I decided to just come out and tell her the truth.
“Okay,” I said, my voice heavy with resignation, “I haven’t been entirely honest with you about the effects of modirall. It actually did more than just cure my chronic fatigue.”
Chloe’s facial expression didn’t noticeably change. She just sat there and calmly said, “Go on, I’m listening.”
“It’s also given me a sexual high,” I elaborated, “Ever since I started taking it, I’ve been feverish with sexual desire. My nipples have been so hard and swollen that they ache. My sex is wet and throbbing, all day and all night! I’m masturbating between three and six times a day, and I’m having the most overwhelming, wonderful orgasms of my life!”
Chloe got an amused smirk on her face, and said, “You have got to be kidding.”
“No, I’m serious,” I insisted, “My libido has gone from beginner-level to Olympic-gold medalist-level! And now that I know what the Olympic-gold medalist-level feels like, I don’t want to go back to the beginner level again!”
Chloe raised one eyebrow and asked, “Your pussy is actually wet and throbbing right now?”
“Yes,” I blurted out, a lot louder than I initially intended, “Do you want to check?”
Chloe rolled her eyes and held her hands up in a surrender-sort of gesture, and then replied, “Not here, no. I could get into trouble if I got caught feeling you up in my office.”
Then Chloe sighed and added, “Look, how important is this to you?”
“Very important,” I responded, perhaps too eagerly, but I was a bundle of hyper-stimulated nerves at the time, “It’s pretty much my chief reason for living at the moment.”
“Okay,” Chloe said, in a calm, patient voice normally reserved for reasoning with dangerous psychotics, wielding meat cleavers, “About three or four years ago, I had a girlfriend named Carrie. I had her on a very unorthodox program that had her in a constant state of sexual overload. She was just like you. Her pussy was wet and throbbing all day and all night. She didn’t masturbate, I kind of had her on an orgasm rationing system, but when she did have an orgasm, they were so powerful and overwhelming, she couldn’t move afterwards. She would just sort of twitch and tremble and make vowel-sounds. I could put you on a program like that, if you’re willing to consent to me being in complete and total control of your sex life.”
“Um,” I said again. Chloe was my best friend. Consenting to place her in charge of my sex life would be awkward. On the other hand, what if she could do as she advertised? I remembered her dating a woman named Carrie some years back. Did she really have Carrie’s pussy wet and throbbing all day long? Could she really do that for me?
“Look, you don’t need to make a decision right now,” Chloe said, “Go back home and think about it. I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you tonight. If you decide not to take me up on my offer, we needn’t talk about this ever again. I you do want to take me up on my offer, you know how to find me.”
I went home and tried to put Chloe’s offer out of my mind. Chloe was my best friend, and you don’t engage in a sexual relationship with your best friend, right?
On the other hand, what she was suggesting sounded dramatically similar to the content of the erotic dreams I’d been having lately. I mean…those dreams were very potent in their eroticism. What if the reality Chloe was proposing was just as potent? Wouldn’t a real-world sex life that was that powerful be worth violating social norms?
I grabbed some dirty laundry, and took it downstairs to the laundry room. Call me crazy, but doing laundry usually helped me to think. It was a very nearly mindless task, and my brain seemed to function more efficiently while my hands worked at loading laundry into machines, pulling laundry out of machines, and folding it afterwards.
My brain broke down the math, and what it came down to was this:
1. I was almost out of modirall.
2. I had grown addicted to the sexual high that modirall gave me.
3. I had no workable plan for getting any more modirall.
4. Chloe claimed to have a program that would give me a sexual high, very similar to the one I had become addicted to.
5. If I didn’t go with Chloe’s program, I had no fallback fethiye escort bayan plan to keep my sexual high going.
In the end, I decided that I would go with Chloe’s plan. I didn’t know the specifics of her plan, but she was the smarter of the two of us. If she felt it would work, it probably would. I went back upstairs, put laundry away and paced back and forth, wondering what Chloe’s plan would entail.
Chloe and I take turns getting dinner for the apartment, and I remembered that tonight was my turn. I swung into action, hastened my way to the kitchen, opened up the refrigerator door and took inventory of what was available to me.
“Hmmmmm,” I said to myself as I examined my options, and then I decided to make Southwestern chicken soup. We had the ingredients, I was skilled at making it, and both Chloe and I liked it. This was a plan that would work.
Chloe came home shortly after dinner was ready. She went directly into her room and changed her clothes. She came out wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Then she fixed herself a Cuba Libre and sat on the couch. It was like she’d completely forgotten the conversation we’d had earlier that day.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Hectic,” she replied, “A lot of our clients are idiots. They want to be professional athletes and most of them think there’s some sort of easy path to getting there. They want to be Olympic Gold athletes by the weekend. They want to be world famous, but they don’t want to put in the hard work that it takes to get there.”
Then she looked at me, held up her empty glass and said, “Could you get me another one of these?”
I got her another drink, and I got us each a large bowl of soup. When we were both done eating, I cleared away the dishes and we turned on the TV and watched Orphan Black on Netflix. Orphan Black is a really well-written and well-directed TV show, and Tatiana Maslany plays like eight different characters! She must be the hardest-working woman in the entertainment industry!
Chloe seemed perfectly content to watch TV and pretend that we had never had our conversation about the sexual highs that I’d been experiencing on modirall and the possibility of Chloe putting me on a program that did almost exactly the same thing. But I wasn’t, and if she wouldn’t broach the subject, I’d just have to bring up the topic myself.
“Chloe,” I said to her when there was a lull in the storyline on the TV screen.
“Mmm hmm,” she replied.
“I’ve decided to take you up your offer,” I said, “I want you to put me on the same program you put Carrie on…the one that had her pussy wet and throbbing all day, every day.”
Chloe’s attitude immediately changed. She had been totally relaxed up until I said that. Suddenly, she seemed more alert, her eyes more intense, she paused the episode we had been watching and sat up straight.
“Are you sure?” she asked, “I was almost certain you’d never agree to us doing that.”
“I’m sure,” I said, already beginning to feel a stirring in my loins. Just talking about was triggering something in my libido.
“What about you?” I asked, “Are you stilling to be my sexual mentor, or are you backing out?”
“Oh no, I’m not backing out,” Chloe assured me, “I’m totally willing to do this. I just want you to know, that if we go through with this it will dramatically change our relationship. If you’re not ready and willing for us to do that, we really shouldn’t even get started on it.”
“Change is good,” I replied, “I mean some change is good. Some change is bad. It’s up to us to decide which changes are good, and which changes are bad. I think this would be a good change.”
“Okay, she said, “Let’s get started. It’s a step-by-step program. We’ll get to the more complex stuff later, and start with the simpler stuff for right now. Take your clothes off.”
“What?” I asked, not entirely certain that I had heard her correctly.
“When I was training Carrie, I kept her naked most of the time. She was allowed to put on clothes if she left the apartment, or if her parents came to visit, but most of the time I insisted on total nudity. It was an important part of her training. If you want me to train you, you’re going to have to be naked most of the time.”
I could see this was non-negotiable. I suppose I should have expected something like this. If you wanted to keep somebody constantly aroused, enforced nudity was a good place to start. Clothing did a lot to protect your genitals from external stimuli, so they would have to go.
Chloe and I had lived together for years, but I think she had only seen me naked once before, and that was largely an accident. Divesting myself of my clothing while she watched me with an intent, deliberate gaze made me feel self-conscious and awkward. When I got down to just my panties, I hesitated. Chloe was right, doing this would change our relationship, and sometimes change was scary. I took a deep breath and my heart beat painfully loud as I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and pushed them down. When they were lying on the floor in a puddle around my feet, I stood before my roommate, feeling vulnerable and exposed.
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