Before Emancipation it would have been Alice waking him up for a morning milking, an older woman (though not that old, she always reminded him) making sure his balls were drained so he could go out and face an ordinary day with a clear head. He dreamed of those days sometimes, back when days could be ordinary, her warm breasts (sometimes she would let him suck on her big, brown gumdrop nipples while she masturbated him), one hand cupping his balls ("Such a big job today!" she sometimes teased, as if it was that much more work to empty a pair of overactive teenage testicles), the other expertly stroking his penis to complete any wet dreams that might have tickled his animal back-brain during the night. Her half smile as she mopped at his belly and chest with a washcloth afterwards, cleaning up the ropes and puddles of semen splashed everywhere.
Now it was Muriel, returning from her night assignment, and HE was supposed to do the work. That is, if she weren't exhausted and just wanting him to hold her as she fell asleep, her naked body unresponsive, but still teasing him. Those times, he probably could have slipped his cock into her and quietly ejaculated without waking her, or even raising up a dream behind her closed eyelids.
This morning, however, she simply pushed down her denim trousers and white cotton panties, declaring, "I've had a hard night's work and now I want a hard fuck!"
He got up to help her take off her blouse (he was already nude -- he'd taken to sleeping without pyjamas after Emancipation) but she brushed him off, just got on hands and knees on the bed. Her arse did look good, toned and sculpted by weeks of working on Reclamation projects. She didn't even ask if he was ready! True, a young man always has a hard hardon in the morning, but she could at least have asked.
"Wait!" Now what? "The vibrator," her voice was hoarse with fatigue, "I want the vibrator again."
She wanted it so often these days, they kept it on a little shelf by his bed so the nights (or, in this case, mornings) Muriel bunked with him, the shiny steel toy was in easy reach.
"C'mon," she grunted as he fumbled for the lube, "Just shove it in, dry-fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me!"
He shoved it in, but only after squirting a generous dollop of lube on it, and on her arse-crack. He still wasn't quite in the swing of her degraded-slut playing. At her urging, he did shove his cock in her pussy as violently as he could, simultaneously clicking on the vibe -- she never wanted it turned on until AFTER it was planted as far into her rectum as it would safely go.
Each hard hip-thrust got a yelp when his cock bottomed out and his balls slapped her pussylips. She wasn't dry, not completely. If she had been, he'd have drawn red blood from her pink pussyflesh and probably from his cockshaft as well. But less time to get her juices flowing meant a super-tight fit. Harsh, brutal friction that pushed her over the edge fast and hard, usually orgasming faster than he did -- crazy, him being so much younger and her ferocious vaginal grip, muscles humming with electric set-at-max power from the vibe paralleling his cock only centimetres away and in so deep, too.
By the time he came back to his senses, he was already limp and slipping out of her vaj. He must have shut off the vibrator without knowing it, or maybe she'd reached back and flipped the switch before she collapsed. He never seemed to know which.
Later, washing his cock and balls at the bathroom sink, he realized that for the first time in weeks, he hadn't nervously examined her face for that terrifying blank look. He'd just slipped the vibe out of her arse and deposited it on the little shelf (she could clean it -- he didn't want to be late for work), finished undressing her and covered her with sheet and blanket.
He'd stopped worrying about Hibitor Syndrome. New cases had been zero for the past twenty standard days. Muriel's behaviour might be bizarre, but it was natural bizarre. Crazy lust, that was all.
Maybe things were getting back to normal. Oh, maybe not back to normal. Maybe forward to some NEW normal. But still normal.
Then Alice told him at breakfast Muriel and Staughton had finally been authorized permanent quarters and would be moving out soon (Muriel had insisted Tony come visit them and they would all get together and plan a proper Emancipation party -- after a bit more of the rough play she liked, of course). It would be good to get back to just the two of them together in the apartment, at least for a little while until he had to move out too and make room for another boy for Alice to mentor.
It wasn't until that evening, when he and Alice were in the shower together, that he realized how different the new normal was going to be.
