Bankrupt Ch. 03

Hope's directions took me to an unused office just off the bowels of the main stacks. Three turns past the nearest place any other person was likely to be, with all the seclusive romance of a clandestine tryst.

Which, I suppose, was what this was. But that was her doing, not mine.

There was no sign of her when arrived, not that I'd expected to see her. My call had caught her in the middle of something, and she'd told me it might be a few minutes. I settled into the waiting position. Knees down, parted ever so lightly, ass back, head bowed. I must have been kneeling there for ten minutes before I realized that I had unthinkingly dropped straight into Victor's preferred posture. Nobody had ordered it, nobody would have even seen it. I had simply done what was natural, and what came naturally was submission. Already, memories of freedom felt like another lifetime, belonging to a completely different person.

No. I wasn't going to give up so easily. That was why I came here, remember.

Forcing myself to rise, I got up and looked for a chair. A few minutes' searching revealed a stack of faded armchairs in an unused storeroom down the hall. It was a bit of a pain to drag it back, but I made it work. Each time the chair squeaked against the floor made me jump. I froze, expecting at any moment that someone would come to punish me, but no one ever did. I sat down next to the office door and tasted victory.

Then I fidgeted in my seat.

Funny, the chair should have been more comfortable. Scratch that, it was more comfortable than pressing my aching knees into the hard floor. It's just... hurting less should have made it feel better. Instead sitting in the chair felt almost wrong, like I was cheating horribly. Kneeling, I could have ignored the pain and sat patiently for hours, but after a few distracted moments I started to eye the ground next to me and wonder if I'd be more comfortable in my proper place.

Screw that! I was keeping that chair. I'd earned it.

The moment Hope entered I leapt to attention. Sure, I realized what I'd done the moment I was on my feet, but by that point it was too late to gracefully sit back down. There was no helping it. As a free woman, Hope was my innate superior, and she deserved my deference and respect. Or at least, that was how I had begun to see her.

Another fun side effect of my chip? Or just a natural instinct after so much time spent debasing myself? Did it make any difference, in the long run? There was so much I didn't know about this process, but that was why I was here, wasn't it.

"Whew! Looking good, girl. Get all dressed up for me, sweet tits?"

"What? No! Of course not. My ma- I mean, this sort of thing is all I'm allowed to wear these days."

She laughed it off.

"Don't sweat it, hot stuff. Either way, you're lookin great."

"Right... thanks," I deadpanned.

Speaking of looking good, I must have interrupted something special, because Hope was dressed a whole lot better than the last time I saw her. Ill fitting jeans had given way to a chic knee length skirt that matched her tight fitting blouse. It dipped down at the neck, proving that she actually did have some cleavage after all. The labels were hardly designer, but beyond that I couldn't fault her taste.

Her hair was neatly styled, a far cry from the messy ponytail that I'd first met her in. The flickering overhead lights glistened off of bright red lips that called to mind the cocktail cherries Victor's bar had stocked. Would they taste as sweet? She caught me staring, and I turned away.

"Show some enthusiasm, sweet tits. We're here to have a good time, aren't we?"

"I have a name, you know!"

She giggled, and I could feel her breath against my face. I stood stiff against her closeness, but I needed her help and we both knew it.

"Yeah," she said, still giggling, "but you also have some sweet tits."

As if to prove her point, her fingers yanked down my skimpy top. I shuddered as she bent to lick her way across my exposed nipple, and not entirely from revulsion.

"Can we get started already?" I snarled.

"See? I knew you were eager."

"That's not what I- fine, you know what, you win. Let's go."

"I always do," she said slyly as her palm print unlocked the office door.

"Sure," I said as I surveyed the office, "Right up until you don't."

It called to mind my last conversation with Victor, back before everything had fallen apart. I'd thought I was the winner that time, but fate had a different story in mind for me.

The office was like something out of a period piece. Even back when it had seen regular use, this was where old furniture came to die. So far as I could tell, it had probably been at least a couple of decades old back then, and that was probably a good six years ago before the school's last big downsizing hit. In all the time since, I doubted that more than a handful of people had come in here. Hope hadn't been kidding when she said she knew a place where we could find some privacy.

A shabby, armless two seat couch stood against the wall, its style jarring with the rest of the office's functionally plain decor. From the scuff marks on the floor, it looked like it had been dragged in here sometime more recently. Private room in the deepest parts of the library? I don't think I wanted to ask why someone had gone through the trouble to bring it here.

Whatever the case, Hope had no reservations about plopping down on it. Her thighs parted in open invitation, but I knew that there was nothing optional about what was going to happen. Either I could do this for her, or do without her help entirely. Help I so desperately needed.

With a sigh, I lowered to my knees, steeling myself for what was to come. It was no worse than many other things I had been forced to do.

Eyes closed and lips parted, I forced myself to lean forward. A hand caught me on my bare shoulder.

"Not yet," she told me, "I've got something to show you first."

With a slight heave, she had me next to her on the couch. There wasn't much room, but she still looked disappointed when I sat on the far end, as if those couple centimeters between us was a terrible gulf rather than a normal amount of personal space. Her bare calf slid sensually against mine, and I recoiled from the touch.

"What is it," I demanded impatiently. Not that I was in any hurry to eat her out, but there was only so much time to work, and so much to do.

"Oh, you'll see," she said enigmatically as she reached into her purse. "Trust me, you'll like this."

Who knows, maybe I had misjudged her. Maybe she had started her research without me, maybe she had found something useful.

Except that what she actually pulled from her purse turned out to be a long, thick rubber monstrosity covered in pink and purple studs.

"You ever seen one of these babies before?" she asked me.

"A dildo? Of course I have."

It as so huge. She couldn't possibly expect me to use it, could she?

"Oh no, honey, what you see before you is no mere dildo. This little number is a true work of art."

"You call that little!"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Oh come on! The inquisition would have had it outlawed for being cruel and unusual."

"Its surface is covered by over three hundred and eighty two individual haptic sensors that monitor and adjust performance based on nearly a dozen independent variables, from temperature to cervical pressure. This baby responds to your needs before you even know you have them. Sure as heck beats any puny little man. Trust me, you're going to love it."

"There is no way you're getting that thing anywhere near me."

"That so?"

From the twinkle in her eye, she took it as a challenge. From the very start, she'd been all about pushing my boundaries.

"I'm serious, Hope. You want me to get on my knees and lick you off, then fine. But there is absolutely no way I'm going to let you stick that-"

She snapped her fingers right in front of my face, so abrupt that it cut my words off in an instant. She grabbed me by the chin, pulling me forward until our faces were only a couple inches apart. Hazel eyes burrowed into mine, and I could feel my resolve whithering.

A few weeks ago I would have risen to the challenge in an instant. Who did she think she was, interrupting me like that? But there was something softer in me now, something that shrank back from open conflict. It recognized in her a free woman, and demanded that I-a slave- give way to her will.

"You like being a slave, then?"

"Of course not," I said softly "but-"

"Then shut up and spread 'em, sister."

My head shook, but she was right. I needed her help, if I was to have any hope of resisting Victor. What was one little indignity here compared to years of them from him.

"Fine," my voice was soft, unsure. "I'll do it."

I spoke louder as my confidence returned, but I held out my hand for it all the same.

"Oh no," she grinned, still flush from her victory. "I get to do the honors."

My fists clenched, but I leaned back anyway, eyes closed in queasy anticipation as I waited for what was to come. She teased me then, trailing it along the sensitive flesh of my thigh. I shivered at the touch. This couldn't be all that bad, could it? I mean, I'd already been forced to take Victor inside of me, so how much worse could some hunk of rubber and plastic be? It was just an object, it couldn't possibly compare to feeling yourself speared open by your most loathsome, hated enemy. Forced to feel him fill you up as he thrusts inside of you again and again and -

Fuck! I was still doing it.

Think of something else. Anything else. Cold water. Winter skiing, your old elementary teacher. Adam-

I froze. The awful realization swept through me. When I tried to think of the most dull, unsexy thing I could come up with, his face appeared. Worse, it had helped do the trick. No matter what I felt about him, Adam, the love of my life, held not even the tiniest shred of attraction anymore. Victor had taken it from me. Disgusting, sexy Victor who I hated more than anyone in the world, but whom my body craved more than any. I would do just about anything to feel him inside of me.

That was when Hope's vibrator slipped its way inside.

It was big, almost too big, but when it buzzed like that - Whoah! There was no steady vibration, instead it was a strong, constant constant pulsing. Rhythmic, but not repeating.

"What did I tell you?" Hope smirked. "I knew you'd like it."

"It feels strange. I'm not sure that- Oh!"

My breath caught as it pulsed inside me. A shivering, toe curling buzz that surged deep inside of me and momentarily took away my breath. I gasped, eyes rolling back in my head as sensation ripped away my train of thought. It subsided, returning to "merely" a slow, aching stimulus.

"Ok," I gasped, my breath still ragged, "That does feel good. But seriously what the hell."

"Oh yeah," Hope giggled, "Forgot to mention. It's got a remote control too."

She waggled a small black box perhaps the size of her palm.

"Cute," I said, reaching for it, "but-"

Her fingers flicked over the surface, and the vibrator let out another achingly powerful wave.

"That's... a bit... much" I managed to gasp.

"Yeah, but you like it, don't you?"

"Yesssss"

I closed my eyes, savoring the slow, pulsing rhythm that stirred inside of me. Soft, pliant lips pressed against mine, and I returned their touch in time with the soothing vibration. When had I last been kissed? It felt like ages. Her soft hand closed upon my breast, and I surrendered to her touch, far gentler than the rough pawing I become accustomed to.

She pressed forward, and I retreated. Not denying her advances, but yielding to them. How different the touch of a woman's body was. My hands roamed across her, finding fluid curves and soft flesh. Such a change from the hard, muscled bodies I was used to, but I found myself unexpectedly carried away by the things I was feeling. A side effect of the chip, perhaps? Pushing my libido into overdrive until I was ready, and even eager to accept the embrace of another woman? Or was this something that had been inside of me all along, just waiting until the right moment to be unleashed? There was no way to tell, and in the end what did it matter? I felt what I felt, and knew only that I wanted more.

"Do you see now?" Hope whispered in between butterfly kisses across my neck. How good a woman can be? Who needs those rough, clumsy hands when you could have a gently, beautiful girl at your side. Isn't that right?"

I nodded, and felt the vibrator pulse in response. But even as it did, an image of Victor came to mind. Good as this felt, I knew it could be better still if only he were here. How much better would three be than two?

Then there was Adam. I had loved him once, hadn't I? Maybe I even still did. She was wrong about men. Adam had cared about me, he had been gentle. He hadn't been trying to use me the way Hope was, or Victor.

But maybe I liked being used?

Slender fingers slid across the back of my neck, a light pressure lowering my face. I kissed my way down her long neck, across raised collarbone and onto heavy breasts that I could scarcely remember uncovering. I reached the bottom, and for the second time this week found myself face to face with Hope's bare pussy.

My tongue flicked out. Not from necessity this time, but desire. I wanted her, I wanted to please her, and this was the only way I knew how. She spoke to me. Teaching, instructing, guiding my hands and mouth as I sought to please her better. All the while, the pulsing continued deep in my pussy. Heavy, aching thrums in time to the rhythm of my tongue, rewarding me with each impassioned lick.

In time, her instruction ceased altogether, as she lay back on the couch and writhed under my touch. The more she gasped and groaned, the stronger my pussy buzzed, until I lost track of the number of times I had climaxed. I licked until I could lick no more, until we were both sopping puddles of lust and exhausted fulfillment.

Awareness blurred into a contented daze. I found myself lying at her side, feeling her stroke my hair as my lips wrapped around her soft nipple. She spoke soft, soothingly, telling me gently what a good girl I was, how well I had done. Patronizing, like I was some kind of pet that existed only for her pleasure, but I found that I liked it. Her arms were warm, safe, and in that moment I felt that I could lie there forever.

"Ready to get started?"

Blinking, I looked up at her. What did she mean? We were well past "started", weren't we? If that was nothing but foreplay, then my mind couldn't encompass what the real thing might entail.

She reached over and brought out a portable console. Oh, right. I had come here for a reason. Something besides whatever had just passed between me and Hope. How could I possibly have forgotten?

I had traveled a step down that road today. Though I had come here to learn, it had proved so easy for that awareness to fall away during my lovemaking. While we coupled, there was no room for thought or gain, only a rush of pleasure. Even now, after awareness returned, I found it far too difficult to leave her side. My problems could wait, I found myself thinking, no harm could come to me if I just lay here a while more. Had Hope been content to do that, I might have listened to that voice, but she did not. How pathetic was that, if she cared more about my freedom than I did.

How lucky I was that I had found her, that I could trust her.

"There was something I noticed last time," I told her as she pulled up the reference material. "See what you can find on chip implanted spies."

She pulled up the database, and I did my best to explain what I had found about spies trained to resist their implants. My thoughts were scattered, my voice trailing off, as I tried and failed to maintain my focus. The lovemaking we had so recently shared played a part, as did Hope's continued nudity beside me, but the greatest distraction was the still throbbing vibration buried inside of me.

Hope had insisted on leaving it, and I had done little to argue. Its pulse was slow now, lazy and sedate, but still served to keep me on the edge of insensibility. Especially when she stopped to run her fingers across my thigh.

Most of the references were well classified, hidden beyond our reach. What data we found was out of date, belonging to those second and third generations of spy where success had been partial at best. Still, partial success was better than none. Some of them had resisted conditioning. For months, years they had funneled data from behind enemy lines, while still retaining enough of themselves to escape and seek extraction.

Unfortunately, they hadn't exactly left behind a detailed set of instructions for me to follow. Most likely, it wouldn't have been legal to publish even if they had. The whole point of the chip was that the subjects' loyalty would always be beyond reproach. There was far too much invested in the system to risk upsetting that.

What we found was mostly buried in memoirs and newspaper articles. From there, we did our best to piece it together. The core of it seemed to center around regular meditation. One of the spies told a story about that, how he had trouble getting in his morning meditations and almost lost himself before he learned to meditate while knee deep in the middle of a rice paddy. Every morning he would sneak out before dawn with the indentured farmhands. There he would meditate, his movements regular and mindful, until he had found whatever peace he sought. That interview shed little light as to what he was meditating over, but others did.

It made little sense to me.

"Doublethink," Hope said from behind me, reading over my shoulder as she slowly groped my chest.

"Come again?"

"Mmmm... maybe if we have time."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

I turned to frown at her, but a well timed buzz in my pussy broke the focus of my glare.

"You're doing that on purpose," I accused.

"Maybe," she grinned. "Fine, you win. I'll get to the point. Doublethink. That's what they're referring to."

"The problem is in my brain, not my ears. I heard you the first time. What the hell does that even mean?"

Now it was her turn to glare at me, disappointment written across her face. Hope's arms folded beneath her bare breasts, and I had to fight to keep my gaze upon her face.

"Come on, haven't you ever read the classics?"

"Not exactly a lit major here."

"Neither am I," Hope said, "but that doesn't mean you need to be illiterate."

"Was there a point to all this?"

"Sigh." Not the sound. She actually said it, the word sigh.

"You are such a geek," I told her, more than a little fondly. She just stuck out her head and turned the dildo up another couple settings.

"But I'm the hottest damned geek you know, aren't I?"

Another hard pulse hummed against my inner walls, and a sudden moan stole away my answer.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said.

"Cheater."

"Still not a no."

"Hope!"

"Fine. Doublespeak, it's from an old Orwell book."

"Oh, right. He's the one who wrote that zoo book, wasn't he?"

"Farm, silly," she twisted my nipples playfully, "You're thinking of Animal Farm."

"Oh, right. I knew it was something about animals."

Another level stare.

"What?" I protested. "Oh come on, I read it years ago."

"It's one of the greatest satires of the twentieth century!"

"So sue me!" now it was my turn to stick my tongue out at her. "What do a bunch of animals have to do with my condition, anyway?"

"Different book, similar theme. He called it doublethink, the act of believing two completely different, totally contradictory things at the same time. In the book, it was a tool of political brainwashing, a way for the ruling party to get people to gleefully swallow the mess of self denying lies that made up the party doctrine. From what we've read, it sounds like these agents found a way to almost weaponize doublethink. The spies had to believe, and I mean really believe, that they were somehow serving their masters with every action they took. Even when they were running away."