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 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."
