Dr. Jolene

CHAPTER 2: ACCEPTANCE

The next morning, I didn't know what to expect. And I certainly didn't understand these feelings I had toward Mr. Washburn and my willingness to accept whatever he said or did. It had been completely out of character for him to touch me like he had and it was equally out of my own character to allow myself to accept it without total control of the situation. All of my 'adventures' had been under my control. I had controlled everything from the men, the locations, and the activities. Yet, yesterday I had quietly accepted his gentle advances ... if that was what they were.

After showering and fixing my hair and makeup, I deliberated on what to wear. It wasn't the office but it was Mr. Washburn. I finally decided on a business-casual skirt that fell inches above the knee and a buttoned-up, short-sleeved, white blouse. I chose a white lace bra and pantie set, which was basic but pretty. I went with no stockings and medium heels.

I checked myself in the mirror and was pleased with the result. It was a nice balance but was missing something. I put on some earrings as a touch of flash to appear underneath my free-hanging hair. And then I felt silly. This was simply another meeting with him, why all the fussing?

I checked my watch and saw it was almost 9:00. I slid my briefcase and purse over my left shoulder and left the apartment. As I exited the elevator, I saw the black limousine parked at the curb and a large black man leaning against the side.

As I moved through the building's main entrance, the man opened the rear passenger door. The closer I got to him, the more imposing he seemed. He was dressed in black kaki slacks, a black golf-style shirt that displayed his massive arms and chest, and functional, heavy shoes. His head was nearly bald it was cut so short and I guessed him to be a full foot taller than me at 6' 4" and probably 230 pounds of muscle.

I smiled at him, "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

He returned a disarming smile while his eyes continued to scan the street, sidewalks, and building entrances on both sides. "You are exactly on time, ma'am." Once inside the car and pulling away from the curb, "My name is Robert, Dr. Trent. Mr. Washburn's driver, protection, estate manager, etc. ... one of two of us."

My God ... there are two of these guys?

He drove west out of the city on the Interstate, then took an exit going north on a state road for a while before turning west, again, on a county road. It was about an hour in total but we were in rural country and probably in the next county given how quickly we left the city and suburbs behind. It was so peaceful and serene, a stark and sudden change from the hectic pace of the city we seemed to have just left. When he signaled his next turn, I couldn't see the turn ahead for all the foliage and trees. He turned into a narrow, pave driveway that wound into the trees for a couple hundred yards before coming to a securely fenced and gated estate. Robert lowered the sun visor and pressed a button that could have been for a garage door, but it opened the gate slowly, swinging to each side.

Robert watched them outside his window, then looked in the rearview mirror at me. "Mr. Washburn got them about three months ago. It was a surprise and unexpected by James and I. We never thought of him as a dog-guy. Just shows, I guess, there is always something to learn about someone." As we continued to the mansion-like house ahead, "They came very well training. They rarely bark except when they get very excited and usually only when they sense something on the property. Usually it is a possum, raccoon, deer or something like that. The security is very tight on the property."

When I exited the car after it stopped at the front door of the house, I turned at the sound of the front door opening to find another large black man. As I approached, it was clear he was a couple inches taller than Robert and proportionally large, his arms and chest also filling out the same black shirt impressively.

"Welcome, Dr. Trent. Mr. Washburn is expecting you inside."

I smiled at him and put out my hand, which he carefully took in his massive grip. "You must be James." And I felt the same tingle as when I watched Robert. I stopped at the door and looked at both of them. "Did you two play in the pros?"

James looked at Robert and they both chuckled. "Yes, he was a defensive end and I was an outside linebacker, but that was four years ago. We started with Mr. Washburn about a year later when we became bored." I nodded and let James lead me through the house.

James knocked on a door that turned out to be Mr. Washburn's home office. I stepped inside and heard the door close behind me. Mr. Washburn rose and strode across the room in long, confident strides to meet me with a heartfelt hug that, again, took me by surprise but I willingly returned the hug to him while feeling a comfort settling over me.

He was anxious to discuss the next direction of the project and he again focused on the likelihood that working on the element of male enhancement might be aided by the successful work of male performance.

We were sitting side-by-side on the couch in front of the wall of books with my notes and data spread over the coffee table in front of us. I turned slightly towards him, "Sir, as I said before, I really think we need to verify that one part truly does work before we rely on it for the next part."

His leg was pressed into mine and a fair amount of my legs were shown under the loose skirt I was wearing. "So ... you want to evaluate my ... responsiveness after the injection." It wasn't really a question but I nodded the affirmative, anyway.

"Unless you think you can just tell me there has been a change?"

He smiled, "Oh, I think it best that you determine the results for yourself rather than my evaluation clouding your impression. After all, you made the pre-injection evaluation personally." I didn't look at him. I just blushed. I remembered that all too well. He stood up and pushed the coffee table away to give us some room, then turned to face me. "Doctor ..."

I looked up at him and saw his smile. Forget his age, this was an exceedingly attractive man. I blushed deeper as I considered the effort I had put into the evaluation just yesterday. I could also see he wasn't going to help me but let me do everything. I shifted slightly on the couch to face him and felt my skirt slip a little more. Apparently, he noticed, too.

"You have lovely legs, dear."

I reached to his belt buckle with shaking fingers. "Thank you." I was trying for calm and professional, but I knew I was failing miserably. Just like yesterday, I opened his belt, the clasp on his slacks, and lowered his zipper. I could see my fingers shake as I reached for the waist and pulled his slacks down to his knees. I took a breath and fought the urge to look up at him as I took hold of his boxers and lowered them down as well. Now I could see in the flesh what I had already suspected with his boxers in place. His cock was semi-hard and growing. I couldn't resist any longer and looked up at him as my hand seemed to move on its own to take hold of the hardening cock.

He smiled, "Yes, every time I have thought of you doing this evaluation, again, I got hard. Are you satisfied that your work so far is a definite success?"

Even through my blush, I smiled at him with increasing strokes on his now hard cock. "No, sir. Not yet. You're able to have an erection and that is part of the issue of performance." I winked him and my next words and action surprised me as much as him. "An erection is one part, but holding it through arousal to a healthy climax ... cumming ... is as important."

I stopped stroking him and opened my mouth, taking the head of his cock inside. I felt so brazen but surprisingly content in the act. I sucked on the cock head, swirling my tongue around it as I slipped one hand to his balls. As I sucked on his cock head, my fingers began massaging his balls, first one, then the other. I heard him moan above me but more importantly felt his cock suddenly become even harder and pulse for the first time in my mouth.

I pulled my mouth off his cock with an obscene slurping sound and looked up at him. "You are doing well, sir. I'd say it is going very well, indeed."

If he had any inclination of response, it was stopped when I lowered my mouth over the entire length of his cock in one fast move. I worked on his cock slowly, then quickly, moving my mouth over the length at alternating speeds while sucking and swirling my tongue. I pulled my mouth off his cock, glancing up at him to find his eyes closed and his mouth hanging open. I raised his very stiff cock vertical and licked the length of his cock, kissing his balls, then taking each of his balls into my mouth to suck gently.

I made the decision to purposely make this last for a while. I told myself it was important to test the ability to hold the erection. The truth was I was enjoying doing this for him very much. At this point, based on the pulsing I felt in his cock, I had no question that he was going to successfully climax and I could end it at any moment, if I wished. But he had indicated that it had been a very long time for him and it somehow mattered to me that this not be a clinically achieved semen sample. Why it was important to me was still something of an ongoing mystery.

I took his cock, finally, back into my mouth and pressed down as far as I could. I had never tried to be someone who deep-throated a partner, instead being content to focus on the use of vaginal stimulation. But I was curious and, again, it was for him. I pressed down until I felt his pubic hair at my nose. He was maybe of average length erect and his cock just entered into my throat when I felt his cock strongly pulse against my tongue and his balls swell under my fingers. I pulled back a few inches just as his cock jerked and spewed the first of his cum in my mouth. Another spurt came out and more seepage as I sucked on the head. When I was satisfied he was finished, I pull back and swallowed while smiling up at him.

"Now I am satisfied, sir." With that I began sucking and licking his cock clean before pulling his boxers up his legs and making a show of arranging the softening cock inside. He stood to redress but assisted by pulling his slacks up before he finished.

He sat down next to me on the couch with an action close to a collapse, leaned back, and gasped. "My God, Jolene ... you're brilliant ..."

I chuckled while taking his closest hand between both of mine, "Are you saying that, sir, because I just sucked your cum into my stomach, or ... as a scientist the project worked?"

He laughed. "I guess both, dear. I always knew you were brilliant as a scientist. Now I know you are brilliant at sucking cock, too." I smiled at him and didn't blush. A question flashed through me mind: how is any of this possible? This was the man who is my mentor who I gave everything in my career, and thus my life, to. But, the question, the doubt, quickly passed and was replaced with contentment.

After a time of recovery, we continued our discussion with a professional attitude that belied what I had just done. Now that both of us agreed the performance aspect of the project was a winner, my mind worked with his encouragement on the plan for the enhancement aspect. My feelings about the goals remained unchanged at this stage that the amount of enhancement would be on a relative scale to the original size of the cock. I also agreed it made sense to focus on it before diverting to the female side.

We ended the meeting and moved to the kitchen where he prepared a wonder lunch. It turned out he is a masterful chef as a hobby. I asked where Robert and James were and he informed me they were around but were giving us some space until they might be needed.

After lunch we retreated to the spacious living room. The house was magnificent and I commented on that, then out of curiosity asked if the other men lived here or traveled from town. He chuckled, "Oh, I am sure there are times they wished they were in town, but, no, they share my house."

It became quiet and I wondered if we were done when I remembered his comment yesterday that there was something he wanted to talk to me about besides the project.

"Yes ... yes, there is. I am afraid it is delicate but I think if I just blunder out with it and you can pardon any awkwardness?" I nodded, of course. "We understand your deepest desires to maintain your work in science but to find your path to maximizing your pursuit of ..."

"I believe the word used before was 'slut'."

"Yes. Thank you, dear." He was looking very nervous. Finally, "Your evaluation method to determine the effectiveness of the drug was nothing if not spectacular ... at least for me." I giggled because it was pretty great from my side, too. "Do you trust me, my dear?" Of course, I did and I told him so. He was the man who gave me my start and mentored me throughout my career. His opinion, guidance, and support meant more to me than anyone ever in my life. "I've been thinking about you for a long time now. Much longer than our recent conversations. When I came to find out and track what you were doing in your private life ... well, it became clear to me what you were trying to do and you later confirmed that." He looked at me with some awkwardness. "Well, to get to it, it seems to me you are going about it all wrong." That surprised me, he really has been thinking about this. "You see, you are a strong woman who likes to plan and control everything involved before doing something. Now, in science that is an admirable and necessary trait. But, for sexual experience, I think it is completely wrong."

I smiled. It was interesting to listen to an older man talk to me about how my approach to sexual gratification was flawed. "So, just for discussion ... hypothetically, what would you suggest, sir?"

"To achieve the level of experience you want, the maximum experience, the gratification that is beyond anything previously felt, you MUST give up control over those situations, those experiences of your body being used. Participating and being used are very different and being used may be more likely to achieving your goals."

USED. My hands shook, I clasped them together in my lap and pressed them into my abdomen. His hand suddenly was on my knee and sliding up the exposed flesh of my thigh. My eyes dropped to watch it as if it weren't even my legs involved. The hand hit the bottom of my skirt at mid-thigh and it moved higher before his hand skipped to take my hands. USED. The word created a shiver that coursed through my body. His hands, though, seemed to steady me somehow but I also felt my body reacting differently with suddenness and intensity. I knew my nipples had tightened. I knew my pussy was now seeping. I felt warmer and charged with a deep energy that emanated from my core.

I looked into his eyes, searching, "If so, how? I don't understand ... you admitted what I am. I know what I am in personality. I have admitted I want the experience of a slut, but I am also not a yielding person, as you say. I plan, I control, how do I not?"

He leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. He'd never done that. I liked it, though. We had a professionally close relationship, but ... hell, I just sucked his cock and swallowed him! If only I could give up some control ... maybe he was right.

"Last Friday night ... tell me what happened."

"I don't remember much. I had a couple glasses of champagne, then ... I woke up the next morning in my bed. I was only in my panties. There was a big gap. I didn't know how I got home or what might have happened. I wondered if I had maybe acted inappropriately, drunk or something. Your message the next day and your reaction Monday, didn't indicate anything about my behavior being wrong."

"How did you feel, though. Did you sense anything?"

I looked at him puzzled by the question. "I did ... at first I felt a little fuzzy like my thoughts and feeling were jumbled, like my reaction to things were bouncing around for a proper consideration. I felt ... I thought about you sometimes during the weekend and ..."

His hand returned to my exposed thigh and slipped higher. "Tell me. Be honest, completely open and honest."

I placed a hand on his hand, not to push it away or restrict it but to accept its presence. His hand moved and mine moved along with it. It crept higher, my skirt bunched up as our hands moved. I watched but did nothing to stop them. I moved my eyes to his. My pulse was fast but my mind was calm, also accepting.

I nodded to be open and honest. "I thought of you and felt calm but aroused. It was strange. It wasn't either love or obscene. I was calm in my mind but my body reacted, the two at the same time. It ... it's like ..." I blushed in my gaze at him, my glance back to our hands now higher on my thigh. "It's like now. I don't know what is happening, but I like it, I want it." I pressed his hand into my thigh and he squeezed. I sighed and he breathed heavily. "I think you are right about giving up and accepting, I can feel how it would be powerful, but ... how? How would I turn that part of me off and hold onto the scientist that I also want?"

His hand moved higher with mine over his. Without looking I knew our hands were at the edge of my panties.

"I have a confession. I acted in the faith that you would indeed trust me and believe that I was only acting with the motivation of giving you what you ultimately desired. It was, after all, the reason I gave you the freedom to work independently without oversight besides the two of us."

His hand moved to the inside of my thigh. I looked down, then up to his eyes. His eyes seemed to be asking the same question, 'do you trust me?'. I parted my legs, slightly. His hand didn't move.

"Did you give me something? Is that what happened to me?"

He nodded. "I hoped you would understand and not be mad. I took a gamble. While you were working on your project, I had our lab in India work on something very special to be produced only for me. That's what I gave you Friday night in the champagne. It is formulated to target one part of your brain but not how you approach your scientific effort. It is a three-part formula."

He was gazing into my eyes and face. I knew he was watching my reaction. His hand still hadn't moved from the top of my thigh despite my thighs moving apart. "I didn't know that was possible. It is formulated to allow me to release control in one part of my being while allowing me the control for another?" He nodded. "That is why I have felt like I have. That is why I find myself yielding to actions I didn't think I could. That is why I was able to comfortably suck you twice and greedily suck you to climax and revel in taking your cum into my mouth and swallowing?" He nodded. I looked down. "That's why I can comfortably have your hand at the top of my thigh ... at my panties." It wasn't a question, but he nodded. Something welled up inside me and I pressed his fingers into my exposed thigh, then looked into his eyes. "How many parts have I had?"

"Two. Friday, of course, and Monday when I gave you some water." A look of apprehension came over him as I sat quiet. "I only did it to assist ..."

I put a finger from my other hand to his lips. "Shhh. The third part of the formulation ... when taken ... what more happens? Is it time sensitive or ...?"

He visibly relaxed. "The third is the anchor doze. It has an effective life of a little more than three months, then a booster can be repeatedly given to maintain the effect. What you are feeling now are fluctuations of its effectiveness without the anchor doze. The third doze will establish a consistence of ..."

"Submissiveness?"