Orgasmic Countdown

The moment that changed her life wasn't her lover suddenly deciding to eliminate her from his life. No messages, no calls. She'd been cut off and couldn't understand why. Why did someone who meant so much to her value her so little?

The moment that changed her life happened as she stared at the street light indicating it was safe to go. Was it really safe? You were always trusting that everyone else played by the same rules. But that didn't mean they would.

"Hey, sweetie, I just can't stand seeing you look so sad. Here, have a cookie coupon on me," said a kindly looking woman interrupting her morbid thoughts. Aside from the slight bulge of her belly, appearing pregnant, there was nothing about the woman in jeans and a plain white t-shirt that looked out of the ordinary. And then she was gone.

Zibi looked at the piece of paper curiously. It was a free cookie at a nearby coffee shop and bakery. "Thank," she swallowed through her dry throat, "Thank you." She called to the kind woman's back. The woman blew a kiss back at her.

She didn't act on it until the next day. Waking up, staring at her empty messages and emails, she acknowledged, "I'm being ghosted." As she readied for work, she muttered, "What did I do?" "He never said anything." "Why me?" "I'm not a mind reader." "He said he loved me." "Am I a sucker?" "What's wrong with me?"

That last thought echoed through her head all the way to the shop. The bakery smelled everything wonderful as she entered, sweet and rich with bread. As she handed over the coupon, the man behind the counter greeted her, "Hi beautiful, just one sec."

Zibi blinked in surprise. At least someone considered her beautiful.

"Here you go," he handed her a chocolate chocolate chip cookie, "And stay to enjoy some coffee with it." He lifted his chin at the dispensers in the back. He had a masculine confidence about him that had her automatically following his directions.

All the mugs were ceramic, so there was no taking a cup for the road. Deciding that being late for this moment of peace was worth it, Zibi took a seat in the corner and for the first time in days forgot about her troubles. A pamphlet lay on the table for some church, soft warm tunes added to the sense of peace. And the cookie. As she bit into it, it was perfect. Perfect in texture and taste. Zibi didn't smile, but she decided to come back to bakery.

It was around a week later that Zibi met the woman who had been so kind to her at the bakery. "Sweetie! I'm so glad to see you here!" she slid into the seat across the table from Zibi.

Zibi smiled at her, a real smile, "I'm glad to meet you at last; my name's Zibi."

"And I'm Miccaela or just call me Mic," she answered, smiling back. "So what do you do, Zibi?"

Zibi shrugged, "I process invoices and the like. Inventory." She blew out her breath, "Inventory's the worst."

"I do marketing for my church," Mic shrugged. "This is kind of our store here. I'm glad you like it."

Zibi nodded, "Yes, I'd noticed the literature." She tapped one of the pamphlets on the table.

"Gosh, it was the best thing in my life..." Mic briefly shared a story about her ex-husband cheating on her and then with a vague hand waving gesture taking in the shop, finished with, "The wonderful folks here helped me heal."

Zibi couldn't help the wistful look that crossed her face. Curiously, she picked up one of the pamphlets for the first time and looked inside. It was filled with messages of love and a calendar of events. Hesitantly, Zibi thought out loud, "I'd be curious to go to one of these, but I'm uncomfortable going alone."

"Just give me a call, sweetie," Mic replied with a smile. She wrote her number down on the pamphlet.

While riding the bus, Zibi pulled out the pamphlet and checked events against her own schedule. It was depressingly unoccupied when her dating life ghosted. Suddenly, the pamphlet was snatched out of her hands. Gasping, she looked up into the face of a man in a suit who looked furious. He had a hard edge to him that reminded her of a friend's father, an abuser. On instinct she threw up her hand to block the slap that the man would have delivered while looking like that. Flesh hit flesh, but it wasn't hers. A body, vigorously fighting, moved between her and the threatening stranger. Two more hits were delivered as the bus came to a sudden stop.

Then all was briefly quiet. "Miss?" inquired a familiar voice. Zibi looked up to discover it was the man from the bakery who had been her rescuer. "Are you okay?"

Zibi nodded, thoroughly unable to react any further.

The police arrived, and she had to give a statement as she watched the bus pull away, leaving her desperately late for work. The attacker was slowly coming back to consciousness in the an ambulance nearby and was incessantly mumbling something. She couldn't understand any of it. Her rescuer from the bakery sat in the back of a police car talking to another officer. The police officer she spoke to paused when the subject of the pamphlet came up. "Love Church?"

"Yes."

"Are you a member?" she scribbled into her notebook.

Zibi said, "I'm checking it out. I just really like the people I've met there so far." She tilted her head towards the police car.

The woman nodded. "Alright, Ms. Wassili," she sighed, "You're free to go."

Zibi nodded and picked up her bag.

"Just a word of caution," the officer continued. Her voice dropped so that no one could hear. "I've investigated a number of women who joined that church." She paused.

Zibi waited.

The officer was no longer looking at her, rather over her shoulder at something in the distance, and closed her notebook as if that was the end of it. Zibi looked in the direction the woman was gazing and saw her Captain watching them. Shrugging, Zibi started walking to the nearest bus stop to get back on her commute.

When she got a few blocks away, a taxi pulled up next to her. "Miss Wassili? I've been paid to take you to work."

Surprised, Zibi walked up to the open window. "Really?"

"Yes, please get in. It's about to start raining, and I don't like mold," the driver irritably replied.

Her shell-shocked mood lightened somewhat, and Zibi climbed in asking, "Who's paying?"

The driver shrugged, "Some church. Where to?"

Miraculously, she managed to arrive on time. But she had lost her pamphlet with Mic's number. Sighing, figuring she'd ask if the bakery had it when she thanked her rescuer, Zibi got to work.

When she got home after work, she found a surprise. Slipped into the letter door to her apartment was the pamphlet. Smiling at the thoughtfulness, she called Mic's number.

"Hello?" her sweet voice answered.

Zibi said, "Hi Mic, it's me, Zibi."

"Zibi!" her voice raised slightly, "I heard you had some excitement..."

"Yeah, you could say that..." and Zibi told her about the incident on the bus. "I'm wondering, do you know how the guy from the bakery..."

"Paolo," she interrupted.

"...Paolo. How did Paolo happen to be there? I thought he was working."

Mic dropped her voice a bit, "Well, the guy that attacked you, he attacked another woman near our shop, so Paolo was keeping an eye out and followed him."

Zibi breathed a little easier. She wasn't being followed. The officer's cryptic warning had made her concerned. The next thing she knew, she had dinner cooked and ready, and she and Mic had been on the phone chatting for over an hour.

"So you think tomorrow's good?" Zibi asked Mic about upcoming meetings.

Mic was excited, "Oh, yeah, I'll pick you up!"

"See you then!" Zibi hung up.

The next day, Zibi hurried to the bakery. As soon as she saw Paolo, she cringed at his bruised visage, "I didn't get a chance to thank you."

Paolo gave her a little salute. "Glad I was there," he answered with a rueful grin.

"Mic and I are going to the meeting tonight. Will you be there?"

Paolo's eyes twinkled. "Unfortunately not tonight, but if you make a Saturday meeting, I won't miss it. You'll find out about those later." As he handed her her breakfast sandwich, he added, "It would be really exciting if you decided to go to one."

Zibi smiled back at him friendly. "I'm almost certain I'll make it."

After work, Zibi looked in her closet. Mic said she should dress comfortable and relaxed, like going out to a dance club. Shrugging at the odd attire for a church, Zibi picked her black simple dress. Then she picked out lacy black panties to go with it. Unfortunately, previous experience had taught her that if she wasn't careful, the wrong chair in a certain location could give someone an eyeful. The bra was part of the dress, and she adjusted her breasts comfortably to fill it as she zipped herself up.

When she climbed into Mic's transport, Zibi asked, "So what sort of meetings are on Saturday?"

"I see you talked to Paolo," Mic smiled. "You'll see."

They reached a property that used to belong to a movie studio which had gone out of business. At the front, Mic got out and Zibi followed her, and then the transport moved away, piloted remotely. The beat of heavy drums and lively tunes reached her ears, and Zibi blinked in surprise. "Here we are!" Mic announced with a flourish highlighting the sign over the door. It read: The Church of Dionysus.

Zibi stumbled as Mic grabbed her arm and tugged her inside. As soon as they entered, different leis were hung around their necks by half-dressed men. The lighting was dark, and Zibi only knew Mic from her hold on Zibi's arm. "Let's get a drink!"

Zibi stared at her uncertainly, temporarily blinded by a shifting spotlight.

"Of course, I can't have the fun stuff right now, but YOU sweetie should have a drink!" Mic called as she guided Zibi to the bar.

"What will it be?" a half dressed man behind the bar asked them.

Zibi left Mic to order as she looked around. Couples were dancing throughout the room. Large screens showed soft pornography, almost realistic, the viewer looking through a security camera at the action below. As she watched the coupling or tripling or she-didn't-have-a-name-for-that-one, the participants would reach climax and then the view would change to an empty space which was soon filled with another set of participants.

Zibi was aroused despite herself, and she took a large gulp of the drink Mic handed her. A brief burn followed the swallow. "I also grabbed one of these for you!" Mic dropped something that looked like a sugar cube into Zibi's drink.

"What was that?" she asked.

Mic laughed, "It'll feel really good. Trust me!"

Shrugging, Zibi took a sip and raised her eyebrows. It was slightly tangy and went perfectly with the drink. Then Mic led her up a winding stair to the next level which was much quieter. Surrounded by low conversations, they found a table that overlooked everything. As Zibi processed what she was seeing, Mic commented, "Let's enjoy our drinks here, then we can head back down."

Zibi nodded and looked at the dancers. The spotlight would catch sexual gyrations between men and women. "You mentioned I'd find out what happens on Saturday?"

"You've been watching it, sweetie. The screens above the dance floor are our Saturday celebrations!" Mic waved at the screens. In one, a woman in stocks was in the throws of an orgasm as the man behind her thrust. Another showed a man, restrained, being ridden by a woman with a grin of ecstasy. Zibi inhaled sharply as she drank. She could almost feel the lust between her own legs.

"So if I go on Saturday..." Zibi wondered out loud.

"Be prepared for lots of sex," Mic laughed. Then she pointed as a new scene started, "Oh, my God, I think that's me!" She rubbed her belly excitedly.

The scene was difficult to see, the area was dark, so the camera view was all in a special light. The woman was moving blindly through a series of corridors. "Is that a maze?" Zibi asked.

"So confusing," Mic sighed.

The woman reached a dead end, then stopped. A false partition in the wall opened and a man seized her around the waist. They had a brief discussion and then she began to perform fellatio. Zibi swallowed. She glanced down at the dance floor; many of the dancers were watching.

"Every Saturday is game day, and I got the maze challenge several months ago. Just watch."

The man ejaculated into the woman's mouth. When he was done, she opened her mouth again, and he poured something down her throat from a small cup.

"That's a concentrated amount of the good stuff I added to your drink," Mic commented. "Want another drink?" She waved to the bar tender in their quiet area. The man switched out Zibi's drink as she watched Mic get caught in another dead end.

Zibi sipped at her new drink getting increasingly aroused by what she was watching. This time, Mic was fucked doggy style. The man put on a condom first. Even without any sound, Zibi could see Mic violently come as she was fucked. Soon the man was also orgasming. Zibi was breathing a little heavier when she saw the man put something into Mic. "What was that?"

"Oh, a special kind of vibrator. The best part is coming up."

Maze-wandering Mic was still obviously unable to see in the dark, yet she managed to find the exit. A timer at the bottom reached zero before she crossed the threshold. Two men came in and seized her arms. She was put into stocks located just beyond the exit. The timer reset to ten minutes. A man emerged from the maze and after a few words and petting Mic's back, he pressed himself into her. Mic threw back her head obviously orgasming. Thrusting rapidly, he soon was buried deep in her releasing. Zibi squinted her eyes watching as another man took his place with 3 minutes remaining. This man kept thrusting despite running out of time and no one stopped him. He too orgasmed deep inside her friend. "Wow."

"Yeah, that was literally fucking awesome."

It was hard to see but a strand of fluid between the bodies caught her eye. "He wasn't wearing a condom?"

Mic laughed and patted her belly, "Wouldn't be a good game without some risks!"

Zibi was really turned on and shocked. "So Saturday games are..."

"Winning all round! Let's go dance sweetie!"

Zibi was so turned on, she gleefully leaned into the first man who ground himself into her ass as they danced. Soon she rubbing her vulva against one man twerking while another played with her breasts. The men kept trying to kiss her, but she wasn't interested. As she danced, moving fluidly, sharing partners with other women around her, she spotted Mic kissing a man deeply. Soon she watched the man and Mic and another woman wander off the dance floor. "Where are they going?" she asked her current dance partner.

"Kiss me, and I'll show you!" he laughed back.

Zibi was curious, but she didn't exactly want HIM. "Let's not and say we did."

The man laughed. Tightening his arms on her, he licked her right behind her ear shooting sparks into her already really aroused frame. "I like you, Zibi..." she jerked in his arms surprised, "...yes I know your name." Between small nibbling kisses down her neck he added, "I just want to make you feel good. You don't have to do anything in return."

As she tilted her head back, reveling in the sensation, another set of hands grasped her. A man behind them slid his hand over her hip, down to her vulva, rubbed suggestively with slight extra pressure between her labia, then down to the hem of her short dress where they slightly lifted it and drew circles on the inside of her thigh. The other hand circled her breast, kneading its soft flesh with a knowledgeable massage for its base musculature. As she moaned, the man in front took her mouth as the man behind her pressed tightly against her back, his erection firmly pressing between the cheeks of her derriere. The kiss was a complete surprise. His lips were full, his tongue caressing hers, and his masculine flavor desperately heightened her arousal.

By the time the kiss paused, Zibi was drunk on lust. When the man behind her lifted her into the arms of the one in front of her, she wrapped her legs around him to help him hold her up with his large hands under her butt. As they left the dance floor, the man from behind her joined them, and she got a good look at his face. He was staring at her, intent, focused. Hungry.

They entered a room so small, Zibi would call it a closet. The only light came from a video screen showing the same set of videos as she'd watched over the dance floor. The man carrying her set her on a short footstool in the center of the space. The other man lifted her hands up to a bar above her head. "Watch the video, Zibi," he murmured into her ear. Besides their own slightly rapid breathing, the space played a soft music of a more mesmerizing beat than the dance floor's intensity. It also smelled rich with human textures, not an odor but something else.

On the screen a naked woman lay down on a table.

Fingers gently lifted the hem of Zibi's skirt.

The table moved into a smallish tube that prevented the woman from moving her arms. The other side was wide open where two naked men spread her legs and fixed them to stirrups.

The fingers grazed slowly up her inner thigh. Hands began to undo her dress, a slow tug on the zipper at her back. Zibi shuddered as heat stabbed into her.

One man lowered his face to her thigh and began kissing, licking, moving slowly closer to the woman's vulva.

As her dress fell off of her, the hand on her thigh started petting her vulva, a gentle caress from the front to back. From front to back.

The woman on the screen grimaced in pleasure as the man settled his mouth between her legs. Small shifts of his head were accompanied by desperate motions of the the woman's arms.

A shackle closed on her wrist. The hand on her vulva begin to slide along the edge of her panties.

The woman on the screen screamed, and a flashing on the screen caught Zibi's eye. Another timer. The woman didn't make it and the timer stopped.

Zibi's other wrist was captured in a shackle. The hand on her vulva slid into her panties while another hand started tugging them off of her. Zibi's breath caught.

"My name's Cam and my partner here is Milum," the man who had carried her said over the soft mesmerizing music. "We can't fuck you at this meeting, only make you orgasm until you tell us to stop."

The woman on the screen was very actively getting fucked, and not with a condom. The timer was counting down from 10 minutes.

Licking her lips, Zibi tried looking at Cam and Milum, they were impossible to see in the darkness. Her eyes couldn't adjust from the screen's projected light. "I'm okay with that." Her nipple was teased with a touch so soft she wasn't sure it had happen until it happened to her other nipple. Her dress had its own bra, so she was bare.

"Watch the screen, Zibi," Cam laughed. The hand on her naked vulva returned to petting, a finger idly slipping between her labia on random strokes.

The man orgasmed, and another moved forward pressing his erection into the prone woman on the screen. She had 5 minutes left on the timer. The first man began to do something with his hands to the man who was thrusting into the woman who was in the throws of another orgasm.

The finger slipped between her labia and kept rubbing there as a mouth found her breast but not yet her nipple. It licked around her areola.

The 2nd man orgasmed shouting as he came. Zibi could see his body spasm with each jet of sperm that erupted into the woman.

One of the men leaned up and kissed Zibi on the mouth. It wasn't Cam. Milum. His tongue moved differently, and his different taste was also pleasant. Zibi inhaled in intoxicated surprise. As her mouth was captured, a finger slipped inside her.

Laughing, the first man, backed up as the 2nd man waved his fist at him threateningly. A 3rd man moved forward and slowly entered the woman.