Phone Sex Operator's Mistae

The soft sound of a light-jazz saxophone solo teased Donna awake. She rolled over and pressed the snooze button on the alarm clock, then curled back up and pulled the covers tight under her chin. The alarm clock was set ten minutes early, that meant two extra five-minute snoozes. They felt wonderful.

At six o'clock, she pushed back the sheets and swung her legs slowly over the edge of the bed. The smell of coffee and a fresh omelet drifted through the room. She turned off the alarm clock, stood up and pulled on her slippers. The clock said it was the 12th. That meant she'd been in her new rooms nine days now. It seemed like less.

As she walked from the bedroom to the dining room, she looked up and saw herself in the monitor. There were four monitors in every room, full color 40 inch monitors, each reflecting the view from one of the four corner cameras. Everywhere she looked, she was confronted with herself - wearing the silly, see-through baby-doll lingerie she always found laid out on the bed at the end of the previous day.

She headed into the bathroom to relieve herself, brush her teeth, and splash some water on her face, keeping her head down to avoid seeing herself performing her morning ritual. The only place she'd found so far that didn't have a monitor was the back wall, the one inside the shower. But the bathroom itself had a total of six cameras. Compensation? she wondered.

There was a newspaper on the table next to her breakfast but it was in Chinese (yesterday's had been Spanish) and two years old. She sat down and took a sip of the coffee. She opened the newspaper and looked at the pictures. A minor distraction at least.

Everything was so artificially normal, so perfectly warped. She tried to remain calm, treat it like a normal day. She'd tried that every day. It never worked.

After a few forkfuls of the omelet, she pushed it aside and picked up the coffee mug. "Welcome to Texas" it said. She smiled, she knew she was in San Francisco. Or maybe not. What could she be sure of? She walked back into the bathroom, sat the mug on the cabinet and stripped for a long, hot shower. The water felt incredible, the mirrors and monitors in the room were steamed white by the time she finished. As she soaped and shampooed her hair, the phrase ran through her mind: your one reality. Feeling the hot water running over her shoulders, down her back, along her legs, she smiled. I beg to differ. This reality is undeniably delicious.

Donna dropped the towels to the floor - she had been told not to take them from the room - picked up her coffee, and returned to the bedroom. The clock said it was eight o'clock, nearly time for her first visitors. What would it be today? Would they let her remember it? Or would she come back to consciousness tonight, asleep in bed, wondering what they had been doing to her all day.

She slid open the closet door and selected one of her uniforms. She'd learned the first day that the dresser drawers were all empty and that the outfits on each hanger were identical. Except for the color: black, white, red, or the same burgundy as the leotard they still sometimes had her wear.

The uniform was simple: a pair of white, high-waisted cotton underpants, a bra and elastic-top stockings the same color as the uniform, and a knee-length, cotton pullover dress. On the dresser was a tray that held a half-dozen narrow gold bracelets for each wrist, a gold chain necklace, and a variety of earrings. Another tiny bit of freedom she was allowed - like setting the alarm clock a little early. The shoes were always black high-heels.

Donna dressed, sprayed herself with the sweet smelling cologne they provided, then took up her standard position, standing just inside the front door with her back to it. --- "You know, I never much cared for Celia's new hair, I just didn't want to let her down. She was so excited about it." The bleached-blond woman blew and popped a huge pink bubble.

"I know, I had to do the same thing when she had her lips done. It made her look like a fish, but I...oh, do pay a little more attention to her nipples, dear...I didn't have the heart to tell her."

Donna heard the two women's voices from a distance but growing closer. She turned her head slightly to look at them but immediately felt a sharp pull at her hair. A third woman's voice commanded "now, you know better than that, don't you? Focus!" The mouth that had been lightly kissing her left breast now focused directly on her nipple. There was a small click and the vibrator between her legs hummed at a higher pitch.

"Look, Even if there IS another shipment of parts from Fremont, it will never get here in time," she heard a man's voice say from a different part of the room. She looked up and saw that there were several small groups of people all around her, all nonchalantly going about their business. She was naked on her back on a cushion of some kind but nobody seemed to notice. Or they didn't think it was unusual. It was a surreal scene, even the walls and furnishings of different parts of the room looked different. She leaned forward and the mouths drew away from her body, the vibrator fell to the floor. The women who had been holding them were no longer there. She leaned over the edge of the cushion and saw one of them, squatting on the floor out of sight. The woman raised her finger to her lips and whispered "shhh...", then closed her eyes and froze in place.

The rest of the room dropped into silence at the same time. Donna looked around and saw that nobody was moving. Some were in mid-stride, others standing with coffee cups at their mouths or cell phones raised to their ears. She climbed off the cushion and approached one of the men standing with a pencil in his mouth and a pad of paper in his left hand. She slowly raised her hand, inching it toward his face. As she got closer, she thought she heard something behind her and turned around. Nothing. Her finger shook slightly as it reached forward and finally touched his cheek.

Soft music flooded the room. It was a waltz, all strings and poetry. The man dropped the paper and pad and took her into his arms, dancing her gently and romantically around the room. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then came back a second time and kissed her lips. He pulled back and swayed with her for several more minutes, expertly walking her through a standard waltz, though he would occasionally speed up into a Viennese. She relaxed into his arms, feeling the strong hand on her waist, admiring the firm body that was holding her close.

The music faded and he brought his right arm in, took her arms behind her back, then leaned in for a kiss. She opened her mouth and felt a hand between her legs. A gentle brush against the inside of her left thigh. Two other hands were holding her wrists then and her partner's hands returned to her waist. He slid them around front and cupped her breasts while they continued kissing. The hand between her legs became an open mouth and the tongue started driving her mad again.

The voices around the room started talking again, but the conversations were new, the voices different. Frightened, Donna kept her eyes closed. Everything had changed again and for no apparent reason. She continued kissing him but focused on the rising heat between her legs. The voice had been right all those days ago - there was only one reality she could unwaveringly count on. That single moment when it all coalesced into the release.

Dimly, she realized something that had bothered her on and off during the last several weeks. Or days? Or months? If they were using the drug to increase her desire and at the same time to wipe out her memory, why these moments of lucidity? Why was she aware right now of what she was doing, when so many other times, there was no memory of it at all? It must mean something, but she had no idea what.

The background noise grew louder and louder, the words and movements less distinct until it was a single blur of noise in her head. At the same time, the sensations in her body focused more and more tightly - her tongue, her nipples, her clit. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to it, abandoning herself again for the minutes or hours or days it took her to finally cum. --- Donna was naked when she returned to her room, looking forward to a hot shower, a warm bed, and a good night's sleep. When she turned the door handle, she noticed that it opened outward, not inward. Odd. She'd remembered it opening into the room. No matter.

She pulled the door open and stepped through, backing into the room and pulling the door closed behind her. When she turned around, she froze. Everything was different. There was no sofa or end table, no plush carpet, no doorways into the kitchen and hallway. It was a run-down studio apartment with a fold-out cot and broken down, third hand furniture.

Donna rubbed her eyes hard, dropped to her knees and shook her head. Nothing was reliable, everything had shifted again. She looked at the wall, there was a clock that read 7:30. A small stack of hot-cakes was on the table near the closed, curtained window, and a cup of hot coffee.

"No, no, no..." she mumbled. When they'd finished with her last night, some of them had turned on the television and were watching the Late Show. She wasn't interested and one of the women walked her down the hall to her room. It couldn't have taken more than two or three minutes. Had she passed out? Fallen asleep in the hall? Was it the herb again? That caused time loss, right? But then, why did she remember the rest of the night so vividly?

A hard knock at the door startled her and she turned around. The door had swung open into the room and two very tall women stepped inside. The women were dressed head to toe in black latex, only their eyeballs and lips were visible. They closed the door behind them.

"It's time," one of them said. She turned her head and saw that the clock read 8:00.

"That's wrong, that can't be. I just got back..." she protested to the women at the door. They remained motionless, standing at attention, arms at their sides, feet together.

Donna approached them, touched the closest one on the shoulder. "Can't you tell me what is going on here?" The woman stood, still as a statue, Donna couldn't even tell if she was breathing. "Listen, I don't mean the whole thing, just tell me the truth...what time is it? How long was I asleep out there in the hall?" Silence. "Just that little bit, that's all I need right now..."

She was scraping her hands down the woman's arm now. "What do you want? Please, please, just tell me what time it is, really?" She dropped to her knees, pushed her face into the woman's belly and wrapped her arms around her back. "What if I do this for you? Then will you tell me?" She nuzzled hard between the woman's legs, pushing her nose against the spot the woman's clit should be. The latex-clad guardian made no response at all.

Donna heard a humming noise behind her and turned her head. There was a large wand style electric vibrator on the floor, just a few feet from where she was kneeling. "Your single reality," a voice taunted. Or was the voice in her head? She snatched it quickly from the floor and pushed it between her legs, flipping the switch to turn the power to high. She came in seconds, then turned the motor to a lower setting and lay flat on her back. Moaning softly, she worked the machine up and down along the insides of her thighs, teasing herself, building herself up slowly again.

One of the women stepped closer and straddled Donna's head and shoulders. The other gently dropped to her knees between Donna's feet. Donna trembled as she felt the cool latex hands caress the insides of her shins, teasing every inch of flesh from ankle to knee. Her knees dropped open slowly until they nearly touched the floor.

Donna reached up and wrapped her hand around the woman's leg, pulling her into a squatting position inches above her face. She found the zippered crotch of the latex suit and tugged at it. When it was completely open, Donna pulled the woman close and began kissing the tops of her thighs. The woman's latex-clad hands lightly brushed Donna's belly, then moved toward her breasts. When Donna felt the cool rubber closing down on her nipples, she exploded again, clutching the vibrator with both hands and pounding her hips up and down against the floor. --- The latex women lay Donna down on the floor and she heard the door slide open again. Through hazy eyes, Donna saw a man enter the room holding a large-headed electric vibrator. My only reality, she thought. The man was walking toward her, holding the vibrator above his head. He was wearing a pale pink dress with...he was wearing a pale, pink dress...she squeezed her eyes shut. Why would a man be wearing a pink dress? She opened her eyes again and one of the latex women was standing behind her, one foot beside each of her shoulders, dangling the vibrator between her legs like a mushroom-headed mechanical penis. The man was gone. Donna stared at the vibrator. My only reality.

She felt something between her legs, raised her head to look, saw the other latex lady was kneeling in front of her, wearing a thick-based strap on dildo, pushing the head against her cunt. When she leaned her head back, she saw that the first woman was now kneeling, the vibrator gone, and felt the large rubber dildo she was wearing touch the tip of her nose.

"Take Lynn's cock in your mouth," said a man's voice. She shifted her eyes and saw the man in the blue dress sitting in an armchair, smoking a cigar that was giving off the a sweet smelling smoke. Donna recognized it as the same smell she'd grown used to from the cologne spritzer she used every morning. Was that the drug? The thought was chased out of her head by the pressure of Lynn's cock at her lips. Where did the vibrator go?

"Ayya, lubricate her please," the man ordered. The woman between her legs produced a plastic bottle and shot a stream of chilly liquid on Donna's belly. She jerked. The woman smeared the lubricant down her belly and between her cunt lips, slathering it liberally top to bottom. "Now, the fish." Donna's head swum. What was he talking about? "The fish," the man repeated.

"Come on, Donna," whispered Ayya. Donna felt Ayya's fingers on her thigh, raised her hips off the floor and offered herself to the woman's huge black rubber cock. Lynn's cock was already in her mouth, sliding slowly toward the back of her throat. When both of them were planted deep inside her, she slid her hands between her legs and began rubbing herself. The latex women began sliding in and out of her in a steady rhythm, which she met with her lips and chin.

"Undeniable, isn't it?" asked the man from somewhere across the room. Her focus was on her fingers, everything else was background. Waves of pleasant sensation bathing her brain, flooding her system. "Remember who and what you are." She turned her eyes toward the voice. It had changed. So had the speaker. It was now a man dressed in leather chaps and a white t-shirt. His cock hung between his legs, his head was shaved bald. The man in the pink dress was gone...no, the man in the BLUE dress...no, the man with...Donna's hands were pulled away and she felt a tongue between her legs. She looked down and saw Ayya's shiny black head bobbing up and down. Did he say something about a fish? What was that?

Lynn continued fucking her face. Her gagging sounds and the spit dripping down the sides of her face and into her hair pushed her brain into that depraved area that turned her on so much. She felt the orgasm rising, the familiar feeling in her belly, the tingling in her toes, the trembling jaw. Her one reality.

Donna reached down and held the sides of Ayya's head, her eyes locked on the insides of Lynn's thighs, the shiny black latex slick with saliva. Ayya's mouth was still the center of her universe. She felt the flood of her own juices mixing with Ayya's, running down the inside of her thighs, over her cheeks and pooling underneath her in a sticky, slick pool.

Donna trembled as she felt Ayya's fingers push up into her body. Two fingers? Three? Her whole hand? Donna had no idea, the orgasm was closer now, the cock in her mouth moving faster and faster. She felt the warm balls slapping against her forehead, knew that was impossible, knew that it was just a woman with a strap-on, but then she felt the warm liquid gushing into her mouth and swallowed, swallowed, while her lower body trembled as she pushed harder against Ayya's face and hand. "Dinner is late," said the man's voice. Insane, pointless, useless words. Donna tried weakly to drag her focus away from her cunt so she could try and figure out what he was talking about but she failed. She didn't care, couldn't care right now.

Lynn pulled the cock out of Donna's mouth and inched backward. Donna looked up and saw that the strap-on was gone and the figure in black latex was a man, cock hanging limp with a big bead of semen swelling at the tip. He shook his cock lightly with his hand and she felt a splash on her forehead. Then, he leaned forward and ran his hands across her face, scraping the cum from her cheeks and sucking it off his gloved fingers. He bent closer and pressed his thumb against her chin, opening her mouth. He opened his lips slightly and she saw the cum pooled in his mouth. She knew what was coming and a thrill of humiliation shot through her body. He leaned forward and drizzled the cum from his mouth into hers. She abandoned herself to a series of long and violent orgasms. --- Donna woke in her own apartment. She looked around and recognized the furniture, the cheap art hanging on the wall, the television on the end table. Something was wrong. What? The window.

She stood up and walked across the room. The carpet was the same, it felt cheap and worn under her bare feet. She approached the window slowly. It was on the wrong side of the room. That was it. That was what was different.

But it was more than that. There couldn't be a window. She wasn't in her apartment. They'd kidnapped her, taken her to...where? It was months ago. Maybe a year by now.

Wasn't it?

She looked out the window. It was dark but the streetlights were in the right place, the building across the street looked right. Even the cars parked in the street seemed right.

Donna shook her head hard from side to side, pulling at her hair. This was insane. She dropped to the couch, heard the quiet humming noise from underneath the throw pillow. She slid her hand underneath and found the vibrator. Her vibrator. The light pink one she'd bought while on vacation in...where was it? She didn't remember.

She pressed it against her cheek. The feeling was familiar and comfortable. Her world, reduced to a single point of contact - plastic against skin. She opened her mouth and tentatively pushed her tongue out, licked her slim, buzzing friend. It was all so comforting. She was home. She closed her eyes and wrapped her lips lightly around it, taking just the tip into her mouth and feeling the flesh of her nose, cheeks and chin hum along with the tiny motor. She slid her skirt up, pushed her left hand - her favorite hand - underneath her panties and began pressing lightly against her clit. It felt so large and swollen. And intensely sensitive. She pushed the vibrator against her tongue, then slowly, slowly back and forth, in and out of her mouth. In just seconds, she came, lost in the sensation of something familiar - something she could count on.