It's day 28 of Donna Henderson's curse (as introduced in one of my other stories on this site: The LIAR and the WITCH Bk. 01-03), just before their big party.
Nancy Tanner has been impacted by the curse without knowing it, and is putting her life back together after mysteriously succumbing to her base desires twice in the last week. Unfortunately, her girlfriend can't handle it, so Nancy is looking into a sublet. She doesn't know it yet, but she's about to succumb a third time, and the exotic woman who owns the condo might actually know why!
*****
"So, why don't you tell me about yourself, Nancy," asked the exotic looking woman with the accent that Nancy Tanner still hadn't quite been able to place. "Why are you in need of a place to live?"
As Nancy took another sip of the incredibly warming drink that her host had given her, she wondered exactly how much to tell the woman.
I mean really, after the week I've just had? Where the hell do I start?
First, there was the sexually-charged encounter with the handsome customer in the change room at work last Saturday. Sure, they hadn't actually touched each other, but there was the small issue of the performance that she'd put on for him! It was completely out of character for her, but it had still been so incredibly electrifying. Nancy had been horny for three solid days after that experience, pretty much completely overwhelming her girlfriend in the process.
And then, there had been the incident on the city bus on Tuesday. Maybe if Nancy hadn't still been so worked up because of what had happened in the change room, she wouldn't have succumbed to the stranger on the bus just three days later. Sure, she hadn't been the only one to lose control that day and after all, according to the authorities, they had all been exposed to some kind of military-grade aphrodisiac, but still. Nancy was a lesbian. What was she thinking, bending over for a complete stranger in a nice suit, and letting him fuck her like a bitch in heat on the floor of a public bus?
That, of course had been the straw that had broken the camel's proverbial back for her girlfriend, Angela.
Already exhausted and distressed by Nancy's new insatiable sex drive, not to mention her new proclivity for all manner of sex toys, Angela had simply had enough. The older, more conservative woman had dumped Nancy pretty much once she'd gotten home from the hospital Thursday morning, a full day and a bit after the encounter on the bus. Angela had given her seventy-two hours to move her stuff out of the apartment that they had shared for two and a half years.
In retrospect, Nancy had known this was coming; Angela was just too unadventurous for her now. Nancy couldn't describe it, but her body was on fire for more. Not just for more sex (although that was certainly part of it), but for more of everything and everyone. There were so many experiences that she wanted to try now and she didn't want to be limited by labels, genders, or inhibitions. Not anymore.
Nancy had tried to pretend to be genuinely upset at Angela's sudden eviction notice (it had, after all, been Angela's apartment in the first place—something that had been brought up each time Nancy suggested they paint the walls a different colour), but she had actually been mostly relieved. Especially when Angela had told her that she was leaving immediately to stay with friends for the next few days in order to give Nancy the space she needed to pack her things and go.
When her former girlfriend had left, Nancy had actually breathed a long sigh of relief at finally being alone. The young redhead had just spent all day Wednesday forcibly confined to a hospital bed where she had been questioned, poked, prodded, and tested. She had lied to the medical authorities when she'd said that she hadn't been feeling any lingering effects from the aphrodisiac—that, Nancy knew for a fact, she'd now been exposed to twice in the matter of three days—when all she wanted to do was stick her hand down her panties and go to town. She knew that if she gave in to temptation and jilled herself in the hospital bed though, they'd have kept her longer, so she tapped into reserves of self-control that she didn't know she had, and managed to restrain herself.
So, naturally, the first thing that Nancy did, once she had locked the door behind a departing Angela, was to make a dash for the bedroom so that she could try out a masturbatory scenario that she'd been dreaming about for a full day: Her on her hands and knees, sucking on a fake cock that was suction-cupped to a full length mirror, with a pulsating butt-plug in her ass, while pistoning a thick knobby vibrator in and out of her pussy from below. As it turned out, this experience had proved to be a good one, as was evidenced by the huge puddle of cum that she'd sprayed all over the floor of the bedroom. Twice.
Even so, it took a further two orgasms, in bed with her legs reaching for the ceiling, to finally get the young woman to the point where she could think half-way straight. Then, after showering herself and getting dressed in her casual clothes, Nancy sat down in front of her computer with the intent of catching up on what she'd missed over the last day and then searching the classifieds to find a place to stay.
The first thing that she did was to log into her email where she found about a dozen messages from friends checking up on her, as well as one from her boss, Cassim informing her that her request for medical leave had been approved.
Excellent. That gives me a week to get my life settled again.
Next, Nancy launched Facebook and, as luck would have it, at the top of her newsfeed was a post about a friend of a friend of a friend who was looking to sublet a room in her condo downtown. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. In fact, one could have even said that it was magical. It was like the universe was giving her a break finally, after having turned her quiet life upside down by unfairly exposing her to the same freakish rut-inducing aphrodisiac twice in the same week.
Nancy emailed the contact immediately and got a response back straightaway offering an interview time the next morning at 9 AM. Scarcely able to believe her luck, Nancy confirmed the time for the interview, and then went back to bed to fuck herself some more with her knobby friend.
Surprisingly, Nancy actually got a fairly good night's sleep that night. But only after she'd eventually moved to the spare bedroom around midnight because the sheets in the master bedroom were soaked from all of her self-induced squirting orgasms. She had been far too exhausted to change them, so she'd just changed rooms instead. Besides, it made it easier to sleep in that apartment without Angela beside her.
The next morning, Nancy got up early, had several very large glasses of water, showered, and had begun to get dressed when she had become distracted by how good she looked in her pink frilly underwear. Naturally, she ended up masturbating for herself in the mirror, while imagining that it was the handsome stranger from the change room who was watching her again. After she'd cleaned the mirror and showered for a second time, she set out to get dressed again.
She knew that she had to set the right tone with what she wore to the interview, so she went for the modest, innocent girl-next-door look, by way of a light blue gingham sundress and a handkerchief in her shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair.
Nancy really wanted this to work out. She'd looked up the address online last night and it turned out that the condo was in a really nice building in a really nice area of town. What's more, beyond how insanely affordable the rent was, the location would be much closer to work, meaning that she wouldn't have to take that god-forsaken bus, on which everybody would just be looking at her weird, now that the incident had been all over the news.
When Nancy approached the building, at around 8:45, she was taken aback, and not for what would be the first time that morning. It was an elegant building, to be sure, but a lot more luxurious than she had been expecting. Hell, there was even a doorman ... er, doorwoman, as well as a security guard in the lobby!
"Hi," Nancy said politely to the tall woman behind the desk as the doorwoman swung the front door closed behind her. "I'm Nancy ... um Tanner. I'm here to see Miss. Richards about a sublet. Apartment 2501. Is this the right building?"
The security guard smiled kindly. "Yes, you've got the right building, Miss Tanner," the woman said without even having to look up her name on her screen. "She's expecting you. The elevators are up ahead and on the right."
"Oh. OK. Um ... well, thank you."
Nancy tucked an errant strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her left ear and gripped her shoulder bag nervously as she walked towards the elevator bank, trying not to make a big deal about staring at the building's stylish and stately lobby. Everything was just so ... marbled. Nancy wove her way through a maze of butterscotch coloured columns with streaks of what looked like real gold. There were large potted ferns and stunted palm trees strategically placed about the room, as well as white statues nestled into lighted alcoves. And to top it all off, there was a scent on the air, like a salty sea breeze.
Despite what the security guard had just said, Nancy was still thinking—as her footsteps echoed through the cavernous lobby—that she had to have gotten the address wrong.
It probably shouldn't have come as a surprise to Nancy that the elevator had an operator, but she was still slightly taken aback as the uniformed black woman asked her, "Which floor, Miss?"
"Oh, Hi," answered Nancy. "It's ... ah, the twenty-fifth."
"Certainly." The woman turned a key in the panel, pressed the button labelled "PH" and pulled a lever. As the elevator lurched into motion, Nancy was wondering why the woman had pressed the button for the Penthouse. She remained convinced that the operator had made a mistake until she scanned the numbers on the panel, and saw that the highest number above the PH button was 24.
This is a penthouse apartment? What kind of a freaky alternative reality am I in?
The old-fashioned elevator rocked and shook a little as it rose. The operator looked unimposing, and even tried to engage Nancy in small talk as they rode, but Nancy was far too nervous. She tried to be polite, but all she could manage were mono-syballic answers. The operator didn't seem to mind though. Through a kind smile and a comforting disposition, she kept the conversation going all on her own.
When the elevator finally came to a stop a few minutes later, the operator pulled the metal doors open and pointed at the door at the end of a truncated hallway.
"Miss. Richards' place is straight ahead. Have a nice day Miss. Tanner."
"Yes ... well, um, thank you very much," Nancy said as she stepped off the elevator, not giving a second thought to the fact that the operator knew her last name, even though she hadn't actually offered it up in conversation.
