Succumbing to Menudia Ch. 10

"Chose Rachel, did he? I wonder what it was that did the trick. Her pink heels, perhaps? Or was it her cropped blouse?"

"You're being facetious, Menudia."

"Oh, Danielle, you're no fun. Except when you are, but never mind. Alas, Mason's first round is in the books, and I can't say it disappointed. Well, maybe it disappointed the other four girls."

"Rachel certainly wore her outfit well."

"That she did, that she did. How that girl ever got by without Mason's seed finding its way inside a body so suited for maternity is beyond me."

"The results did align with our expectations. Nevertheless, it was critical that we presented the subject with a plethora of options in order to confirm our hypothesis."

"I suppose. Well, I doubt anyone is going to be disappointed by Round 2. But I fear we made things too easy for him last time. I think it's time we ... complicate matters."

"We are of like minds, Menudia."

"Are we now? Call it the 'Be careful what you wish for' round."

"Has a nice ring to it."

"So he likes a certain outfit, does he? Let's see just how MUCH he likes it."

"Worthy question. The algorithm is set to run its course."

"And fortunately for the algorithm, I've got more than a few pairs just like Rachel's lying around the castle. I think you catch my drift?"

"Your drift has been caught."

"So literal -- but so amusing. Please commence with Round 2."

*****

Snapping out of his latest nap, sitting up straight, Mason found himself back on the mattress in the tiny anteroom.

Danielle entered through the same door she'd walked through previously, looking poised, pretty, and professional in her white blouse, black slacks, and black glasses.

"Mason, hope you're well! I have to say, we had a very informative first round, giving Menudia some nice data to work with. And you appear to be enjoying the research so far?"

"Yes, Danielle."

"Terrific! I take it you've rested, which means we're now ready for the second round. So, this is going to be a little different from the first. This time, I'd like you to please enter the room, take note of the five girls standing there in the room with you, and ... do whatever it is you feel inspired to do. Anything that calls to you in the moment. The girls might even have a few ideas of their own, which they are free to initiate, although you can always steer them in another direction. The goal is to sort of let things unfold spontaneously.

"Oh, I should also mention: you'll notice that the length of time you'll need between releases has been markedly reduced, to around five to ten minutes. One of the many perks of being a Menudian, shall we say. This will also enable us to gain more data within a single round. When you finally run out of activities that interest you, and when you feel that activities with this batch of girls and this batch of outfits are winding to a close, just take another nap, and that'll be the signal that it's time to switch out the girls and the outfits and move on to the next round. Ready?"

"Sure, sounds good."

"Excellent!" She patted him on the arm. "Again, I'll just follow you in and take notes."

Upon re-entering the research room, he noticed the four girls from the first round (Emily, Liza, Julie, and Angela) all standing in a line against the wall across from him as before, and in the same order as before -- the four girls who, despite their many merits, he had neglected to choose earlier.

Only now, on the far right, Rachel had been replaced by Jen, who had pinned her silky brown hair on top of her head (allowing some renegade locks to brush past both cheeks), had attached to her earlobes a pair of large crystal earrings, and was again wearing her white, oversized "Menudian Girl" t-shirt (which felt nice and soft after having dried out from her pool adventure with Curt), along with the white sneakers she'd worn to the picnic.

The other four girls had returned wearing the exact same tops they'd worn in the previous round: Emily in her yellow t-shirt with the floral butterfly graphic; Liza in her dark grey "Menudian Girl" t-shirt and red leather biker jacket; Julie in her grey zip-up hoodie and green-and-white striped polo shirt; Angela in her white "milk maid" crop top.

Except there was one item all five girls now had in common.

They were all wearing black vinyl jeans.

Danielle watched Mason for his reaction.

The gears of the algorithm were turning as intended.

"Well, well, well," Jen said, checking that the bottom of her t-shirt was fully tucked in to her waist. "What do we have here?"

"Gues they could tell you liked Rachel's outfit," Julie said, playing with the zipper on her sweatshirt.

"Who's it gonna be now?" Liza asked, her fingers fiddling with the bottom of her grey t-shirt and the top of her PVC trousers.

"Not gonna be such a clear-cut choice this time," Emily said, coyly grinning at Mason as she swiveled her hips back and forth, inducing a squeak or two.

"Looks like we've finally silenced that famous wit of his," Jen added, fiddling with her hair while she still had the chance. "Was it Sartre who said, 'We are our choices'?"

"I feel like a ... sci-fi space chick or something." Angela squeezed the malleable fabric encasing her butt cheeks. "I thought they would feel weirder, but they're super comfy."

"I had a pair of leather pants, back at school," Julie said. "My boyfriend really enjoyed it when I wore them. Wonder what he would have thought of these ..." Her face telegraphed an increased confidence as she wiggled her bum inside its stiff, glossy casing. "Would've been nice to have a pair. Your thoughts, Mason?"

"I think he's having a hard time thinking," Jen observed.

Like Jen, Danielle tried to read the expression on his face, but it was ambiguous. Had they overloaded his brain? Was he going to attempt to get it on with all five girls at once?

She thought about it from her subject's point of view. Imagine developing a turn-on in your formative years, based around a not-terribly-common outfit ... odds were it wouldn't be something you'd see going about your day ... you did your best to ignore it, and resented how much you were drawn to it ... then one day you're in a room, five pretty young women are standing right there, wearing you-know-what ...

Glancing up as she scribbled, Danielle noticed that Angela, of all the girls, seemed to be standing out to Mason the most. Initially puzzled, Danielle could soon see why.

The change in fabric, while dramatic for all the girls to an extent, was the most dramatic for Angela. On paper, PVC should have been a bad match for a girl who favored softer, more natural fabrics like velvet and lace, but the contrast between the flimsy, organic peasant top and the stiff, shiny jeans gave Angela an air of intriguing contradiction. The combo shouldn't have worked -- which was precisely why it worked. Cute meditation teacher goes goth clubbing.

Danielle's pen hit paper as Mason headed toward Angela, stepped behind the Polish-Hungarian blonde with his back to the wall, pressed his half-erect schlong against her shapely vinyl ass, slipped his hands under her white crop top, and fondled her breasts.

Something about those breasts, nestled in their frilly white cage, were just asking to be fondled. Time for Menudia's resident masseuse to get a little massage of her own.

The other girls looked on, though Danielle could tell they were growing antsy. Emily lightly stroked her own breasts through her bright yellow t-shirt. Liza tinkered with the zippers on her red leather jacket. Julie reached over and slapped Liza's tight, reflective rear with her right palm, before slapping her own. Jen scrunched her thighs together, observing the ways in which the synthetic material curved, contorted, and pressed against certain places between her legs.

After a couple minutes, Mason's fingers slid down Angela's abs, then along the waist of her trousers, before tugging on the belt loops, squeezing the back pockets, dragging his fingernails against the zipper -- almost all the same behavior he'd demonstrated with Rachel. It was becoming his little ritual.

Danielle had to admit it: some things just didn't get old.

Still, questions remained. Was he interested in the other girls? If so, not just yet. He spun around so that he and Angela were face-to-face and, with one hand on her crop top and the other hand on the round metal fastener at the top of her fly, he started making out with her, Angela's eyes widening with surprise.

She hadn't expected him to approach her first -- or to kiss this well.

So far, he was following almost the same playbook as before. Was Angela about to get the "Rachel" treatment? Danielle figured Mason must have had more creativity in him than this. Julie and Jen were standing right there, on either side of him, rocking their matching trousers like the provocative pervs everyone at the college knew they'd always been itching to become. Would he let that opportunity go to waste?

As she watched his left hand wander over from Angela's tits to the waist of Julie's PVC jeans, and his right hand wander over from the fly of Angela's PVC jeans to Jen's t-shirt, his tongue massaging Angela's all the while, Danielle realized she needn't have worried.

Mason was like a cruise ship passenger at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Some baked beans, some chicken tenders, some cornbread, some frozen yogurt ... he needed to try a little bit of everything.

To be fair, he'd already had a bite of most of the girls. There must have been one girl in the room he hadn't kissed yet -- one remaining item at the back of the buffet table he'd overlooked. He'd had a lifetime supply of Jen and Emily's mouths in front of Menudia's throne, when they first took him (hard to believe he'd resisted for so long -- what an idiot!). He'd gorged on Julie's lips plenty while impregnating her against the wall in her black vinyl dress several naps ago ... who was it?

Danielle caught the exact moment when Mason figured it out.

Liza. He hadn't yet kissed Liza!

Mason withdrew his hands from Julie and Jen, slid over to his left, and didn't waste much time snogging his perky Italian-American peer. To stick with the buffet metaphor, she was that extra danish at the back of the tray that he'd missed the first time around.

As he crossed the last girl off his kiss list, he found himself groping Julie's slippery black pants with his right hand instead of his left hand, which was now growing busy feeling up Emily's rack through her yellow t-shirt. If only he'd had more hands! Maybe Menudia had the ability to do something about that?

"I'm so glad you've joined Menudia." Liza spoke in a whisper between tonguings as she rubbed his spine through his robe. "Not only would I have never learned how good a kisser you are, I never would have learned how sexy I feel in black vinyl jeans."

He wouldn't have expected Liza, the most mild-mannered of all the picnickers, to be a hot kisser too, but being taken seemed to have unleashed an inner carnality from somewhere within that even-keeled personality of hers. During one smooch, she reached back and gave her own butt a quick squeeze before stroking his robe again.

Meanwhile, Mason's two hands found themselves adopting similar tactics despite heading in opposite directions, his left hand slipping up under Emily's snug yellow t-shirt and across her nipples, his right hand slipping under the fly of Julie's vinyl jeans (which, tight as they were on her, he managed to slide in there without unzipping them) and down into her shaved snatch.

Every step of the way, standing silently by the door, Danielle scribbled and scribbled.

Realizing that Mason, for the moment at least, was directing his attention elsewhere, Angela spun around so that her back was toward Jen's, bent herself down to even out their height, and slid her PVC butt against Jen's PVC butt. Soon both of them got the hang of grinding their glossy tushes together, enjoying the friction and squealing noises they were generating, learning how the fabric pressed against their clits at specific angles.

Wanting to switch things up a bit, Mason leaned to his left and gave Emily a French kiss, then leaned to the right and sucked on Julie's neck for a while, leaving her with a visible hickey.

Without thinking much of it, seeing as she had a break in the action, Liza momentarily turned around, and ...

Well, Mason was smitten. He'd never seen any sight more mesmerizing in his life.

Danielle could see it too (though she kept it to herself): Liza had the nicest vinyl jean buttocks of them all -- two perfect little half-circles encased in their shiny, flexible cocoon. And the way the bottom of her grey t-shirt swayed against the top of it ... somehow that completed the effect. The red leather jacket was snazzy, sure, but it was kind of in the way of the rest of it.

Taking his hands out of Julie's pants and Emily's t-shirt, he lightly tugged on the two ends of Liza's leather jacket and made an imitation of a "peeling back" motion.

Liza took the hint. "You want me to take my jacket off?"

Catching his adorable nod of "Yes," she slipped it off and tossed it onto the sofa in front of her.

Not to say that Liza hadn't looked nice with the jacket, but with her figure more fully on display, everyone could see just how well the graphic t-shirt went with the PVC pants. Yet when she started turning around to kiss Mason again, she felt his hands stopping her. He wasn't letting her turn around.

He wanted to keep soaking in her ass.

Angela and Jen halted their own little ass-to-ass moment long enough to catch Mason untying the sash on his robe. Was he getting ready to do what they thought he was getting ready to do? They decided to step in.

"Isn't that what we're here for?" Angela asked.

"Your hands should be free to do other things," Jen pointed out.

As Jen cozied up to Mason's right, Angela picked up a bottle of lotion from the floor (the same bottle that had been resting on the floor since Mason's memorable first usage of it in the research room), smothered her hands with it, and then the trained masseuse began giving his partially soft penis her patented treatment.

Mason's first response to Angela's handjob was to give Liza's slick tush a series of squeezes, followed by a couple of good smacks. Talk about a million dollar sound. And her bottom had just the right amount of jiggle to it. Mason's second response was to grow fully hard.

Confused, though not really upset, Liza continued to face the wall. "What the hell is everybody up to back there?"

About then, as Mason rubbed Liza's shoulder blades through her grey t-shirt, Danielle noticed an interesting development. Although Angela's hand was surely demonstrating great skill and finesse, and by all rights should have been the only hand Mason would've ever wanted on his cock, it seemed like Mason was unconsciously tilting his hips ... toward Jen? Angela became aware of this resistance as well. While rubbing his chest, Jen let her hand graze his penis, and he let out a grunt.

Soon his squirming and wiggling was making Angela's continued efforts to jerk him off almost impossible. She wasn't used to another girl's services being preferred to hers, but she didn't take things like this personally. For Menudian Angela, Mason's satisfaction was the highest goal.

Angela and Jen glanced at Danielle, who gave them a look of, "Yep, that's what I'm thinking too."

Mason wanted Jen to jerk him off again, just like she'd done in front of Menudia's throne.

Jen doused her palms with lotion, reached across her body to her left, and took over the handjob duties from Angela.

Perhaps it was only natural. After all, Jen had given Mason his first handjob -- and not just any handjob either. Unlike most Menudians, who'd been taken by the eyes, Jen's hand was what had taken Mason, and it was to her hand he'd forever owe a debt of gratitude.

But Jen had memories of her own that were returning -- devilish, mean girl memories, like how fun it had been to toy with him and serve as Menudia's little instrument of frustration. He wanted her hand that badly, did he? Maybe she shouldn't be so accommodating ...

The Irish-American cutie let his Mediterranean manhood grow soft, then hard again, then soft again -- teasing him like she'd teased him back in Menudia's court. It was kind of sweet, Mason's emotional attachment to her fingers. She hadn't been nearly as sentimental about that handjob as he'd been, but realizing what it had meant to him, she was kind of touched. Jen thought of a line from Measure for Measure: "The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good."

Not terribly miffed at the switch, Angela began massaging Mason's belly instead, while Mason's hands wandered around Liza's stomach before fondling the "Menudian Girl" logo on Liza's chest.

Still confused but still staring straight ahead at the wall, Liza ran her fingers along the bottom of her t-shirt, letting the cotton tickle her black vinyl waist, wondering what all the fuss was about her butt.

Emily, somewhat annoyed that the attention had shifted away from her, poked her head in and kissed Mason when she could sneak her way through. Less annoyed, Julie stroked Mason's curly black hair, gave him one long, sloppy tonguing, then walked across the room, leaned against the short wall parallel to Danielle and the doorway, and substituted her own hand for Mason's, calmly jilling herself under the fly of her black vinyl pants -- not really trying to climax, just enjoying the sight of Jen jerking Mason off as Liza stood with her back to everyone.

"I guess I'll just stand here like this all day, if it's that exciting," Liza said.

Mason seemed to be enamored of two places in particular: 1) the spot where the bottom of Liza's grey t-shirt dangled past the waist of her skintight PVC jeans -- where the contrast between the soft cotton and the shiny, constricting trousers beneath them was most accentuated; 2) the little folds that had formed at the place where her butt cheeks met her thighs -- those reactionary ribbons of glistening fabric that Danielle suspected might soon be decorated with something neither vinyl nor cotton.

The bespectacled therapist was impressed with Jen's edging acumen -- the way her fingers stroked and taunted Mason, letting his hardness ebb and flow, recreating that sad yet special moment when her hand took him for good. And Danielle could detect the ghost of Mason's conflicted feelings rising to the fore, wanting to fight this confusing fetish he had neither chosen nor wanted.

But Jen was biding her time until she would have the upper hand, so to speak. As far as Jen (and Menudia) were concerned, the longer she promised without delivering on that promise, the better. She loved playing with him like that, and she knew that -- any external expressions of his to the contrary -- he loved it too. Besides, Liza's reflective behind wasn't going anywhere.

Mason's palms were getting their fill of squeaky asses all the way around, his left hand fondling and squeezing the back pockets of Jen's small black vinyl rear, and his right hand giving the same treatment to the back pockets of Angela's more shapely black vinyl rear (a noted contrast in ass shapes, but he didn't mind). Jen occasionally let his erect tip poke against Liza's butt (Danielle spotted some pre-cum sticking to Liza's right back pocket), before backing off, making him wait longer.

Meanwhile, Emily slipped her fingers through her plastic belt loops as she darted in to kiss him and darted out again, Mason slipping his hand under her yellow t-shirt when he could. The only sound coming from Julie was the scrunch of her polyvinyl thighs against the far wall.

Between her notetaking, Danielle caught Mason's penis transitioning from soft back to hard again, but grew apprehensive as she saw a bright yellow light rising in his pupils. Either Jen had miscalculated, or she'd finally grown bored?

Mason leaned his head against Angela's shoulder, almost like they were cuddling, though his pleading words were at odds with his actions.

"Don't make me ... don't make me ..."

He was losing the power to think, drowning in his sea of vinyl jeans, but he had one more independent action left in him before Menudia took over. He slid his left hand into Angela's right back pocket, and slid his right hand into Jen's left back pocket, the skin of his fingers slowly getting stuck on the vinyl as it made its way into those cool, slick, forbidden places.

Danielle had to wonder: was it Jen's hand, or his own hands appreciating Jen's and Angela's PVC derrieres, that ultimately did it? Probably the combo. The therapist's sheet was overflowing with notes, but she didn't want to take the time to flip over to a new sheet of paper, in case she lost sight of any critical details, so she scrawled in the margins.

Even though Jen had been expecting it, the force of it made her jump back. Liza's smooth, dry ass grew sticky and wet in a hurry.

His initial release of cum landed on the center seam dividing the two halves of Liza's jeans, as Menudia's words slithered out of Angela's lips, the stocky blonde tenderly massaging Mason's abdomen and testicles while gazing at Jen's handiwork.

"Succumb! ... it's your favorite hand ... the hand that's made everything to follow possible ... there'll never be another hand like it ... Succumb onto Liza's shiny jeans and ... make them even shinier! ..."

Clusters of pearly liquid found their way into the ridges of folds that he had been admiring so much, as Angela kept him upright.

"Wait, is he ..."

Liza was finally putting two and two together.

" ... on my butt?"

Mason rubbed his hands against the backsides of Jen's and Angela's pliable black pants as his penis contracted and his personality vanished.

Danielle noted how relaxed he looked as Jen brought him off. An activity that would have been unthinkable for him only a few short days ago was now about as dramatic for him as a yawn. She was so proud of his growth!

A few smaller globs landed onto Liza's back pockets -- the big, symmetrical eyes on the shiny face that was Liza's well-protected tush. Jen had really outdone herself this time. The back of Liza's PVC jeans now looked like an art project gone awry, as if a talentless elementary school kid had gone overboard with the glue.

"Is he done yet?" Liza asked. She hadn't felt a thing the entire time. An advantage, or a disadvantage, of vinyl pants? Now, if he'd come onto the back of her t-shirt, she would have felt that. Eh, it was all good.

Once Jen let go of Mason's softening penis, she, Emily, and Angela dove in like vultures and proceeded to lick his slippery happiness off Liza's slippery black ass, Julie racing in from her spot against the wall to join in. As the four of them bent down, a cacophony of squeaks ensuing, he gave each of their protruding vinyl behinds the necessary attention from his palms. Jen went straight for the seam in the center, Angela licked the folds near the top of Liza's thighs, while Emily and Julie went for the pockets.

"How about leaving a little something for me?" Liza joked.

A small string was still dangling from Mason's tip, so Julie turned around and took care of it with her tongue before switching back to Liza. Once the girls finished their clean-up, Angela tied Mason's robe back up and patted his pecker through the satin.

"So can I turn around yet?"

"Yes, Liza," Mason said.

Upon doing so, she gave him a nicely appreciative kiss, then grabbed her firm vinyl butt as punctuation. "Talk about some quality protection from the elements here."

Danielle couldn't help but wonder: end of the round? Did Mason even remember what she'd told him at the beginning?

Apparently so, because Mason sat down on the brown velvet sofa resting against the wall that everyone had just been facing, and yet he didn't start taking a nap. The signal was clear.

The study subject was merely taking a break.

And Angela decided to take a break with him. She strolled over in a manner that exaggerated all the creaks and crinkles of her trousers, pulled up a pillow, and sat down cross-legged on the floor with her back to Mason, marveling at the sensation of her unusual jeans tightening up around her legs. Mason took the hint and started giving her a shoulder rub.

For the first time since she and Mason had entered the room, Danielle spoke up.

"You mind if I ask a few questions?"

"No, go ahead," Mason replied indifferently.

Liza, still adjusting to the flattering new status her rear end had achieved, tucked the bottom of her grey t-shirt into her waist, squeaked her way across the room, tossed her discarded red leather jacket out of the way, and straddled Mason with her vinyl-covered legs on the couch.

"Can I join in?"

"Sure," he replied.

Mason rolled his neck around as Liza began giving him a shoulder rub of her own, the two of them completing the formation of a chain massage with Angela.

Julie found a spot on the long wall opposite the sofa and quietly resumed stimulating herself in her trousers. Jen found herself mimicking Julie, but leaning against the shorter wall facing Danielle and the doorway (the same wall where Julie had been chilling during Mason's handjob), her right hand slithering its way into her own PVC pants.

By contrast, pulling up the waist of her jeans nice and high, Emily plopped herself into the loveseat near the door by Danielle (the same one she'd fallen asleep in after Mason had, um, appreciated her white vinyl nurse's uniform), slipped her right hand under her yellow t-shirt, and began playing with her breasts.

Danielle resumed. "So, I'm going to ask you a few questions about your masturbation and fantasy history, mainly as it pertains to the girls here in the room. Of course, as a Menudian, you have no choice but to answer honestly. Shall I begin?"

"Yes, Danielle."

Angela, enjoying the pressure of his hands against a particular spot on her neck, leaned her head back as he answered.

"Terrific. Have you fantasized about any of these five girls while masturbating?"

"Yes."

"How many of them have you fantasized about while masturbating?"

"All five of them."

"Well well well ...," Liza added in mock surprise, briefly groping his butt through his satin robe before resuming her shoulder rub.

"Looks like we've had ourselves an imaginative little schoolmate, haven't we?" Jen said, her hand up to no good under the fly of her jeans. "As George Bernard Shaw once said, 'Imagination is the beginning of creation. You imagine what you desire, you will what you imagine, and at last, you create what you will.'"

"Thanks Jen. Let's get more specific. How many times -- make your best guess -- have you fantasized about Angela?"

"Uhhh ..." He had to think about this one. "About 10-12 times?"

"Aw, Mason," Angela said, basking in his shoulder rub, which was morphing into a back rub. "I wonder which days those were on. Maybe I'd been wearing something at school that you liked? You were free to use me any time you wanted to, you know."

"How about Emily?"

"Maybe like ... 50-60 times?"

"Ha! Take that, Angela," Emily piped in from her chair, giving her nipples an extra pinch upon hearing Mason's reply. "Leaving you in the dust, girl."

"Julie?"

"I guess ... 25-30."

"Not too shabby," Jen said, briefly wandering over to Julie and lightly slapping her bespectacled classmate on the arm with her free hand before heading back to her previous spot against the wall.

"Liza?"

"Maybe ... only about five or six times?"

"That's it?" Liza almost sounded upset. "I didn't get more than that?" She playfully pounded his shoulder blades through his robe before resuming a gentler approach.

"Jen?"

"Oh geez ... at least a hundred times. Maybe even 120?"

"Ding ding ding!" Liza shouted, apparently not holding much jealousy toward her brunette peer. "We have a winner!"

"That's not fair," Julie whined. "They knew each other, like, way back in high school."

"Jen had a head start on all of us!" Emily concurred, miffed at having been dethroned in the Mason Wank Sweepstakes.

"I'm sorry, did someone say that was against the rules?" Jen retorted, pleased that Mason had spent that much spunk in her honor. "'All's fair in love and war,' as the proverb goes." Cute and fuzzy as her oversized t-shirt was, she was finding the bottom of it getting in the way of her self-pleasure. So she tied it up in a knot around her stomach, which had the added advantage of allowing her to display her jerk-off-worthy abs.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Danielle said, tapping her clipboard. "There's another female in the room, isn't there? I should probably ask. Did you ever fantasize about me?"

"Yes."

"How often?"

"Maybe five or six times. About the same as Liza, I'd say."

"You found me attractive, as your therapist?"

"Yes."

"Seems like a bit of a low number. Why not more?"

"I don't know. I felt kind of ashamed about it, I figured you probably wouldn't like it if you knew I was fantasizing about you."

"And yet you still fantasized about me, at least a few times?"

"Yes."

Angela noticed Mason's arousal returning against her spine as he answered these last few questions. Thus, she was the first to learn that he had recharged.

"Astute observations, very astute." Danielle made a flurry of notes as she mumbled to herself. "That's true, I probably would have resented it at the time. My positions continue to evolve, of course. Now I almost wish you had used me more, but ... what's done is done!"

As Danielle continued to psychoanalyze both Mason and herself, she missed a new development brewing, for her subject, although enjoying Liza's fingers on his back, and his own fingers on Angela's back, started to eye Jen with renewed zeal.

Having just let the whole room know that he had spanked it to Jen at least a hundred times or more, and his body having recovered from decorating the back of Liza's PVC pants, he soaked in his former high school classmate, leaning there against the wall, that tiny overbite peeking through her lips, her clean white t-shirt tied up in a sexy knot, the floppy top forming a cute contrast with the tight, polished jeans, within which her hand methodically stirred.

"So, if I may ask, what is it about certain girls, or females, that makes you inclined to fantasize about them while masturbating?"

Looking up, Danielle could see that Mason's attention had wandered.

"Is it maybe an outfit they were wearing, a conversation you might have been having with them ..."

Without saying another word to Liza, Angela, Danielle, or anyone else, he got off the couch, leaving Liza to tend to Angela's shoulders, undid his robe, pushed Jen against the wall, unzipped her fly, tugged her wetlook jeans down to around her thighs, and started screwing her like there was no tomorrow.

"Hmm, well ... tell you what." Danielle scribbled more observations. "Why don't we take a break from questions for a while?"

A THUD THUD THUD resonated throughout the research room, the brass frame of the small bed rattling in the corner.

Jen's crystal earrings jiggled as she clutched his back. She was such a light, limber thing, perfectly designed for a hasty shag against the wall. He lifted her tiny, vinyl-clad legs and wrapped them around his hips as he porked her brains out.

Danielle stood near the door and tried her best to get all her observations down, but there were almost too many. It was as if Mason were giving Jen one thrust for each time he'd fantasized about her -- but neither he nor Danielle were exactly counting. In contrast to their lovemaking on the rug, where Mason had savored it and had taken his time, this one was over pretty quickly.

Menudia could have used any of the girls' subservient mouths to acknowledge the occasion, but she thought it would be amusing to use Jen's gasping lips.

"Succumb! ... uhhn ... Succumb! ... your favorite ... ah ... fantasy material ... her eggs are ... ah! ... waiting for your sperm ... think how ... uhhn ... smart ... how witty ... your offspring will be ..."

Then Mason tied his sash up, made his way back to the sofa, resumed his prior position between Liza and Angela, and carried on with the chain massage as if nothing of much consequence had interrupted it.

Jen, slouched against the wall, needing a moment to process everything, rubbed the sweat from her palms onto her soft white t-shirt. Then she haughtily turned the act of stretching the thick vinyl fabric back over her hips, tugging the zipper up, and sliding the metal button back through its slit into a riveting three-act play. These jeans did bring out a little something extra in her. After a few minutes, she slid her hand back under her fly and resumed her leisurely self-pleasure, just as Julie had been doing the entire time Jen and Mason had gone at it.

Nothing like a post-Jen-inseminating shoulder rub to hit the spot, as Mason discovered. While Liza's hands resumed practicing their magic on him, his own hands resumed practicing their magic on Angela, occasionally sliding from her shoulders into the front of her richly textured crop top, where he could play with her breasts and the cloth that lightly covered them.

The girls and Danielle assumed he was just recharging. They didn't mind. Liza and Angela could tell he liked feeling the segments of their plastic trousers pressing against his robe and his feet.

But soon enough, Danielle noticed Mason's attention wander toward Julie. She'd been leaning against the wall opposite him for almost a good half hour, in her grey sweatshirt and striped polo shirt, quietly fingering herself, soaking in the scene. Julie had always been yakking away about feminism, right? Well, nothing said "female empowerment" like a college girl in hot college girl glasses trying out tight PVC jeans for the first time and realizing she could totally get away with it.

Mason stood up from the sofa, apparently having had his fill of shoulder rubs for the day, wandered across the room to Julie, and slipped his tongue past her teeth. The hand in Julie's jeans grew a bit busier, but not by much.

Danielle was about to ask another question, but she decided to wait.

After a couple of minutes of making out with Julie, Mason stepped directly behind her and began stroking her breasts through her taut polo shirt. Julie could feel him hardening against her black vinyl tush as he flicked her nipples through her shirt and stroked her belly. Enough time must have passed since he'd screwed Jen against the wall?

Then Angela stood up, with a look on her face that said, "You know, I'm really digging this new side of myself." The fuzzy inner lining of the pants was definitely a nice bonus. To think that, without Mason's unpredictable little fetish, she might never have had the chance to discover her fondness for tight shiny jeans like these.

The jeans were so tight, in fact, that she realized that, if she leaned her body a certain way, the fly would press against her sex in a ... stimulating fashion. Angela wiggled her hips to fine-tune her discovery of this advantageous alignment, recalling what Julie had done with her denim jeans back in the massage room with Curt. Same concept, right?

As the wetness in her vinyl pants grew, Angela stared into Julie's blueish-green eyes as she watched Mason's hands unzip Julie's vinyl pants and make their way into the spot where they would have the most mind-erasing impact.

Deciding to experiment a bit more, Angela bent down to the floor, grabbed the pillow she'd been sitting on during the shoulder rub, wedged it between her thighs, and began to press herself against it. Now THAT was really hitting the spot.

Julie and Angela stared at each other with a mutual look of "We're really going there, aren't we?" as Mason continued to finger Julie from behind and Angela continued to hump her pillow, her squeaky trousers still fully zipped. Julie's grey sweatshirt started slipping over her shoulders and halfway down her back, but with Mason's arms locked around her, that was about as far as it was able to fall.

At this point, Angela having gone on to bigger and better things, Liza stretched out on the sofa face-down, and began nonchalantly grinding herself against it.

Watching in silence, Danielle jotted notes, notes, and more notes.

Mason could feel Julie beginning to slip into Menudia's clutches as her shoulder blades pressed into his chest and the back of her smooth, glossy pants pressed against his phallus. All the while, Angela wiggled against the pillow as she sensed her strange methods paying off.

Julie and Angela gazed into each other's eyes, a simultaneous glow building. Neither of them had come yet during this round, but now it was happening to both of them at the same time. They could sense it, they were excited by it, and yet ... they grew scared of it.

What did it mean? If Angela was about to climax, why wasn't she moaning like she usually did? If Julie was getting turned on by watching Angela climax, just how far did her bi tendencies go?

And somewhere in the back of their minds, the biggest question of all: Were they ever going to be rescued from this terrible servitude to Menudia?

The answers to such questions, alas, had to wait.

The girls came seconds apart, first Angela, then Julie -- Angela humming through her closed lips as she felt the little trembling waves travel down her squeaking legs, Julie's eerily silent mouth staying wide open, as if she wanted to scream but couldn't, the two of them gazing at each other, mutual prisoners of their PVC pleasure.

Mason's throat did the honors this time. "Succumb!... watch each other, admire each other ... see how beautiful you both look when you ... Succumb! ..."

Angela's was much quicker, and when her eyes returned to normal after a few seconds, she gave Julie a satisfied smile, her light brown-haired classmate not nearly as in control of herself, still at the mercy of Mason's fingers, her old personality far beyond reach as she continued coming in her sexy vinyl jeans.

The blonde hippie chick in her matching vinyl jeans dropped the pillow on the rug, walked up to Julie, waited for her friend's spasms to die down at least to the point where Julie's face wasn't shaking so much, leaned in, and kissed her.

They had been working their way up to it in the massage room. Angela figured the time was right.

Mason slipped his hand out of Julie's jeans, and swung around so that he could kiss both Angela and Julie. Occasionally the two girls locked their legs together, letting the sound of the plastic friction fill the room.

Just then, Emily grew bored playing with her breasts over in that armchair she'd been sitting in during all this. Danielle had seen it brewing for some time -- Emily feeling neglected and irrelevant near the door. Time to make her presence known again. Emily could see, from the bulge under his robe, that Mason had recovered from his time with Jen.

Pulling her yellow t-shirt back down over her tummy, Emily rose out of her chair like a girl on a mission, her jeans squealing and her bracelets jangling as she walked, slipped her way in between Angela and Julie, untied Mason's robe, bent down, and proceeded to orally pleasure him.

Something about strutting around in tight vinyl jeans just put her in that cock sucking mood. (Not that she needed much to get in the mood anyway.) Funnily enough, being merely one of several girls in the room to be wearing such highly conspicuous trousers ended up being a perfect way to satisfy both her conformist and exhibitionist tendencies.

Mason found himself simultaneously making out with Angela and Julie while Emily's mouth made out with his penis.

So nice to see that obnoxious throat of Emily's to be put to a pleasingly silent use. He had to admit, that yellow t-shirt with the demure flower-and-butterfly graphic on it had gone well with the denim skirt, but it went even better with the black PVC jeans -- the bright shade of the t-shirt providing a sunny, girlish contrast to the weird, androgynous pants. The white sandals were cute too, pairing up well with Angela's beige sandals.

Danielle flipped a sheet on her clipboard, her notes extending onto a new page.

Emily snatched up the pillow that had treated Angela so well and placed it under her knees as she felt the creaking fabric scrunch up around her legs and Mason's thick Mediterranean head slide against her cheeks. She was good at alternating between lollipop-style licks of his shaft and long, immersive bobbing. It all seemed so effortless and relaxed. A few seconds before he came, she wouldn't have even guessed.

But Danielle could see the haunting change infect his eyes.

"Ermpf!"

Despite making a sound he hadn't intended to make, Mason kept his tongue engaged with Angela's tongue as Emily's tongue brought him to a lovely little orgasm, his hands clutching Angela and Julie by their waists as his sperm dribbled down the throat of the feisty Czech-German blonde with the cherubic face in her shiny vinyl pants.

Julie's voice grew deep and menacing as Menudia spoke through her.

"Succumb! ... Succumb! ... she loves sucking all the boys off ... the blowjob queen of Sacred Saints ... she's wanted to add you to the collection for so long ..."

Emily's hands wandered over her PVC ass, fly, and hips as she let the kinky-yet-stylish garment fuel her deed, her bracelets jingling as they slipped up and down her wrists.

Having shown that she still mattered, she stood up, wiped her lips, slinked back over to the armchair she'd been sitting in earlier, and took a long siesta.

With that out of the way, Mason pivoted to trying to establish whose lips he preferred more: Julie's or Angela's. As he meditated on it, he twirled Julie's long, light brown hair with his left hand, and Angela's blonde hair with his right hand. Every once in a while, Julie and Angela found themselves performing a similar evaluation, wondering if the tongue of their own gender surpassed the male tongue they were feasting on.

"Hnnnnn ... Hnnnnn ..."

The sound of whiny, erratic breathing over by the short wall caused the three of them to turn their heads.

Jen?

"Ah! ... Ah! ..."

They could see her hand jiggling in her fly and the giveaway glow filling her eyes. Watching Julie, Angela, and Emily get Mason off must have had quite an effect.

"Fuck ... oh fuck ..."

Danielle's gaze involuntarily shifted from her clipboard to Jen as the counselor uttered that critical two-syllable word while Jen squirmed and clenched the thighs of her new favorite pair of shiny black jeans together.

The trio of kissers took one more mildly curious glance at Jen, before turning back to each other, resuming their more pressing business.

At least six or seven minutes had gone by since Emily's blowjob, and there was new life under Mason's robe, but ... what to be done with it? That's when Danielle noticed Liza's glistening buttocks recapture Mason's attention.

There Liza was, humping the sofa, having a nice little time with herself. Now that she'd tucked her t-shirt into the waist of her jeans, he could really get a complete look at her ass. So cute, watching her try out these little variations with the t-shirt and the jeans, discovering what looked good and what didn't. Mason had expressed his admiration on one side of her pants; maybe it was time to express his admiration on the other side?

If the research room had taught him anything, it was this: best to strike while the iron is hot.

Leaving Julie and Angela to each other, Mason headed over to the sofa, flipped Liza over as if she were a pancake in a pan, unzipped the fly that had mercilessly remained shut thus far, painstakingly peeled her jeans inside-out (given the way they'd been clinging to every crevice of her hips, thighs, and bottom, they resembled the wrapper of one of those candy bars one accidentally leaves in the car, which melts in the sun and then re-hardens in odd lines by nighttime), and started fucking her senseless in her grey "Menudian Girl" t-shirt.

The Italians and the Greeks, at it again like always.

She must have been sweating and dripping her juice in her PVC jeans the whole time, 'cause she was all wet and primed for him.

But then ... a funny thing started happening. Attractive as Liza was, Mason's mind couldn't help but wander, first to the fresh-in-the-memory blowjob from Emily, then to his first handjob from Jen in front of Menudia's throne, then to an old teenage memory of his sister's friend Leanna in her black vinyl jeans and white wool sweater -- everything except the doe-eyed brunette squirming underneath him.

He remembered what a great lay Julie had been in that black vinyl dress and white top during their first time in the research room. He thought about Danielle in the present moment, standing there silently, in her cute white blouse and glasses, watching him have carefree, unpremeditated sex with Liza. All good thoughts.

The images kept flipping through Mason's brain like he were thumbing through a Rolodex. He almost came thinking about Danielle, but that wasn't quite the one he was meant to finish on. No, something else was going to do it, but he didn't know what.

Out of the blue, he thought about Vanessa's white crop top, the one with the red heart on it that she'd been wearing when the girls first took him to the castle. Funny, he'd barely noticed it at the time, but now that he thought about it, as his penis slid in and out of Liza's tight wet slit, that was a sexy top, with the lettuce trimming tickling her belly button and all. The memory of Vanessa's crop top and midriff -- hopefully a sight he'd see again? -- turned out to be the one that did it.

Menudia chose Angela and Julie to jointly consecrate the occasion. "Succumb! ... Succumb! ... So many sexy memories ... so many thoughts that turn you on ... take your pick and ... Succumb! ..."

As he emptied his seed into Liza's healthy young body, Menudia egging on his id, he pictured: 1) Emily in her bright yellow t-shirt and vinyl pants only minutes earlier, going down on him with panache; 2) Danielle out on the meadow back on the day of the picnic, in her blue flannel shirt and short black skirt (the outfit that he had clearly not anticipated Danielle taking his virginity in); 3) Jen as he'd mounted her on the rug in her purple PVC bra and mesh tights -- in that order.

As the memory of his first screw of Jen faded, he rolled off Liza and slid onto the rug, the back of his head resting against her vinyl calf and her black platform shoes.

Content with Mason's sperm inside her, oblivious to his wandering thoughts, her vagina exposed to the room and the top of her vinyl pants peeled back against her thighs, Liza fell asleep.

Danielle suspected Mason was about to join Liza (and Emily) in taking a nap, which would have meant the end of the round. To her surprise, he re-tied the sash on his satin robe as he leaned against the bottom of the couch and stared at the charming sight in front of him: Julie and Angela dancing sensually against each other in their matching black jeans. Danielle sensed an opportunity.

"Can I ask a few more questions?"

"Sure."

"Why did you choose Liza just then?"

"I thought her butt looked great in her vinyl jeans, and ... I don't know, the instinct just kind of took over."

Danielle could tell he'd almost completely forgotten about Liza already, his attention becoming fully absorbed by his two peers rubbing their plastic rears together, spinning around, locking their legs together, making a tremendous racket, probably on purpose, occasionally leaning in to make out with each other, Julie's fly still mostly unzipped.

"What were you thinking about while you were having intercourse with Liza?"

Danielle sensed him hesitating -- perhaps Mason was worried that his response might hurt Liza's feelings? Of course, not only did he have no choice but to answer honestly, but Liza looked fast asleep. (Even if she'd been awake, Mason's answer probably wouldn't have bothered Liza anyway.)

"I thought about Emily going down on me in her yellow t-shirt just a few minutes ago, then Jen jerking me off in front of Menudia and all the other girls, finally 'taking' me at last after I'd resisted for so long, then about Leanna hanging out with my sister in her black vinyl jeans and white sweater -- "

"Ah yes, Leanna." Danielle enjoyed this little call-back to their pre-Menudian work. "Not really thinking about Liza?"

"No."

"Any other thoughts?" She could see there was more.

"I thought about when I banged Julie in her black vinyl dress, the first time I entered this room, right there against the wall ..."

As he pointed to the spot where he'd memorably chosen Julie "first" and filled her with his cum, Julie gave off an appreciative grin and ran her hands along Angela's white crop top.

"... then I thought about you standing over there in your blouse and your glasses, taking notes, silently watching me going at it with Liza on the couch ..."

"Did the thought of me watching you turn you on?"

"Yes."

"Do I look attractive to you in my current outfit?"

"Yes."

After finishing a lengthier than normal series of notes, Danielle resumed.

"What were you thinking about when you reached orgasm?"

"I was thinking about Vanessa in her white cropped shirt, the one with the heart on the chest, the one I saw her wearing earlier when the girls took me to the castle."

"Did you find that shirt sexy?"

"I guess so, I hadn't really noticed it at the time, there were so many other things going on, but in retrospect, it looked great on her." Although he'd already answered the question, he couldn't resist sharing an extra thought. "I wish I could have slid my cock between her shirt and her skin, until I came between her breasts." (If only he knew what that same top had meant to Curt ...)

"How did you feel thinking about other girls instead of Liza while you were having intercourse with Liza?"

"Uh ... part of me felt like it was 'wrong,' like it would have hurt her feelings if she knew what I was doing. But the sense that it was wrong made it hotter."

"Did you think about anyone else?"

"Yes, after Vanessa, I thought about Emily giving me that blowjob again, then I thought about you and the outfit you were wearing back at the picnic --"

"You liked that outfit, didn't you?"

"Yes. Then I thought about going at it with Jen on the rug when I was here in the research room the first time, you know, when she was wearing her purple vinyl bra and shorts and her mesh tights, and then ... I think that was it."

Having overheard Mason mention her as she continued to knead her clit, Jen let out a noticeable "Mmm."

After jotting down what could have passed for a New Yorker short story, and flipping to another blank sheet, Danielle switched topics.

"Which of the five girls in the room right now are you finding the most attractive?"

"Hmmm ..." He really had to think about this one. "Maybe Angela?"

"Why?"

"I dunno, I like the contrast between her frilly, kind of old-fashioned top and the vinyl jeans. It suggests a complexity you didn't think she'd have, the backpacking granola girl with the icy, provocative, 'I get what I want' streak."

At the sound of Mason's admiring comments, Angela tugged her PVC jeans up by the belt loops.

"Well, actually ... I take that back, maybe Julie."

"Why Julie?"

"It's like she's really coming into her own in those pants, exploiting the sex appeal that was always there. And the polo shirt, with the variety of colors and textures ... there's a classiness to it, but a girl-next-door classiness. Actually ..."

Mason got up off the floor and slid directly behind Julie.

"I kind of just want to ..."

He tugged on the sleeves of her grey zip-up sweatshirt, the one that he hadn't bothered to remove back when he'd fingerbanged her, and finally let it fall to the floor. Indeed, she looked hotter in just the polo shirt.

Julie felt Mason's erection return against her gleaming behind as his hands glided up, down, and across her striped polo top and the breasts underneath.

"What do you think about her now, without the sweatshirt?"

When Mason pulled the bottom of her shirt up towards her neck, letting her perky knockers (the ones that Curt had massaged so well) plop out into the open, Julie tipped her head back and invited him to bring his mouth to hers.

"So would you say you prefer ..." Observing this most recent development, Danielle paused. "Well ... why don't I just let you ..." The sound of further scribbling soon took her voice's place.

Angela, with her erstwhile dancing partner otherwise occupied, pinched her own nipples under her top while she leaned over to slip her tongue into Mason's ear and her hand against his satin-covered ass, as Mason massaged Julie's exposed tits. Both girls could tell he'd grown excited again.

His hands made their way from Julie's breasts to the waist of her unzipped jeans, which he pushed down toward her knees. Then he spun her around, placed her with her back to the wall, and slid himself in.

If Menudia and Danielle had wanted to use this round to pose the question, "Could our research subject ever have too much of a good thing?," the answer, so far at least, seemed to be:

No, not really.

Mason's memories of his first time with Julie in her tarty vinyl dress flooded back to him -- only now, he had more pussy to compare her with. Although he wasn't in charge of the study, it was hard for him not to make notes of his own.

There was a feistiness to Julie's snatch that mirrored her personality. A lot like Emily's, come to think of it. As he pounded Julie, he couldn't help but glance over at Emily, conked out in her armchair across the room, like a napping cat. He needed to bang Emily again at some point, maybe in her vinyl jeans, maybe in her white vinyl nurse's outfit like earlier, maybe in some other outfit entirely. Mmm. That nurse's outfit was a good one. But she seemed to be resting at the moment, and he wanted to respect that.

Then he remembered part of what had made his tryst with Emily so enjoyable: it was that he'd been fucking Vanessa, and on a whim, he changed horses in midstream, and Vanessa just had to deal with it. Always fun to tease Vanessa.

Which reminded him: he was really going to have to impregnate Vanessa at some point. Maybe his Latina schoolmate would show up in her white crop top with the red heart on it, and black vinyl jeans like the other girls? Alas, she wasn't part of this round, so it was a moot point. He'd had all the girls in the room by now, hadn't he? Maybe there was one he'd missed ...

Then it hit him: Angela.

He still hadn't had Angela.

The stocky blonde, having reverted to rubbing Mason's back as he and Julie went at it, couldn't have anticipated Mason exiting the feisty feminist in fashionable fetishwear, unzipping Angela's PVC jeans faster than anyone had ever unzipped a pair of PVC jeans before, slamming Angela against the wall right next to Julie, and remedying his oversight.

The tapping of Danielle's pen against her notepad grew louder. To think what Menudia and her team of researchers could do with all this splendid data!

Angela's body had a more comforting, nurturing quality to it than Julie's. It was like he'd been wandering the woods on a wintry evening and he'd stumbled into a cabin with a warm fireplace and a pot of chicken soup on the stove. But was she better than Julie? Hard to say. Time to make a direct comparison.

After entwining his tongue with Angela's for another minute or so, then tugging her milk maid crop top down a few inches to let her tits spill out into the air, he exited the warm cabin that was Angela's snatch and re-entered the roaring fireplace that was Julie's.

Julie kissed him like a girl who'd been lost and starving in the woods for weeks (and like his lips were food), while Mason slid his palms all over the breasts that, in a reversal of Angela's chest, were sticking out beneath the striped polo shirt that remained scrunched up around her neck. But again, was she better than Angela?

Mason went back and forth between Julie and Angela. They each had their virtues and their drawbacks. He couldn't decide which girl he wanted to finish in.

However, while evaluating Angela's merits, he caught Jen in the corner of his eye. The Irish-American bookworm was still standing there against the wall where Mason had last screwed her, stroking herself in her vinyl pants and large white t-shirt (even though she'd already had one orgasm in that position), quietly watching the research unfold in front of her.

Hmm. Maybe the best girl had been Jen, there against the wall, with Danielle asking him all those questions about which girls he'd fantasized about the most. Maybe he needed to have Jen one more time, over on that little bed in the corner there, you know, try a different position? Was there a rule against choosing the same girl twice within the same round? Not unless he'd missed something. And from one look at Jen, he could see that she still was up for it.

Mason felt obligated to go where his urges took him, and Jen was like a groove that his brain kept finding itself sliding back into.

He exited Angela, walked over to Jen, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her onto the small bed in the corner.

As Jen climbed up onto the mattress, he positioned her so that she was resting on her hands and knees, face-down, with her reflective black buttocks wiggling in front of him. He reached around, yanked the jeans down to her knees, and took her doggystyle.

"OK, Mason, what are you ..." Her confusion gave way to physical discomfort. "Hold on, it isn't fitting like ... you can't ..." But after contorting a bit, Jen realized that she could work him at that angle after all.

"Uh! Uh!"

She attempted to look behind her, only for his hands to push her pretty little thespian head down as he rode her, then cup her breasts through her oversized white t-shirt, her earrings swinging wildly against her cheeks.

His fingers couldn't help but play with the knotted portion of the t-shirt around her belly. It looked cute like that, but ... time to let it all hang out. With one tug on the knot, the bottom front of her t-shirt drooped down and lightly brushed the mattress as she jiggled and swayed.

Danielle's wrists were becoming arguably the most overworked body part of all, her pen fortunately finding an extra gear. She felt like she understood Mason's psychology better than he did himself. Perhaps with one final, cathartic screw of his high school crush, he could exorcise years and years of pent-up fantasies revolving around her once and for all?

Julie and Angela stood against the wall where Mason had abandoned them, their hands confusingly pulling their matching unzipped jeans up toward their waists. Emily and Liza, still sound asleep, remained oblivious.

"Uh! Uh! Uh!"

Mason reached down to stroke Jen's clit, his shaft not quite in the way. Her eyes were already changing hue first.

Just ONE ... more ... FUCK ... of JEN ... and he would NEVER ... have to THINK ... about her ... AGAIN ...

"Oh God ... oh God ... Mason I love you so much ... I love you so much ... I LUUU-HUUU ..."

Mason loved her too. He loved Menudia, he loved pretty girls in black vinyl jeans and casual tops, and he loved the thought of his sperm making its way toward Jen's mind-controlled ovaries.

As Jen climaxed, Menudia forced Angela and Julie to whisper the words that they weren't getting to hear themselves:

"Succumb! ... no need for him to pleasure himself in his bedroom while thinking about you ... when he can pleasure himself inside you ..."

Jen's elbows bent as her eyes glowed a nasty shade of orange. Mason's ejaculate soon followed, Danielle's pen stopping in mid-sentence as Menudia used the therapist's mouth to whisper:

"Succumb! ... fill her again ... scratch that itch ... fill her until there's no more room left inside that beautiful little body of hers and ... Succumb! ..."

The image of Jen's diminutive figure growing larger with new human life in several months' time floating around merrily in his mind, Mason flopped face-first onto the mattress.

The waist of her pants crinkling around her knees, the back of her t-shirt bunched up around her shoulder blades, the brass bed frame no longer creaking beneath her, Jen brushed her hair out of her mouth and collapsed next to Mason.

The final tally: one handjob from Jen, one blowjob from Emily, one fuck of Liza, several quasi-fucks of Angela and Julie, and two fucks of Jen.

Mason fell asleep at last. The round was over.

*****

He might have slept longer if it hadn't been for a faint squeaking sound piercing his consciousness. It only got louder and louder. He kind of just wanted it to go away so he could enjoy his nap. Geez.

But it wasn't to be, so Mason sat up and admitted defeat, half-expecting to find himself back in the small anteroom, with its numerous doors, and for a beaming Danielle to pop in with her trusty clipboard.

But no. He was still in the large research room, on the same mattress where he'd just satisfied himself with Jen. Only now, the room was empty. Not a trace of the girls -- not even Danielle. It was him, the furniture, and stray objects like the bottle of lotion on the floor.

He wasn't sure if he was bothered by this. Perhaps there was a reason why they'd left him alone in the room? Was this part of the research too? He waited on the bed as the repetitive crackling sound drew closer. It was on the other side of the wall -- the same wall that Jen had been leaning against while she'd masturbated, the same wall where he'd screw her ... or had that been where he'd screwed Julie? Hard to keep it all straight.

He'd never noticed that the wall had a door. He could have sworn it hadn't earlier. Had a door magically appeared there while he'd been sleeping? Nor had he realized there was a room on the other side of the wall. What was in that room? After a brief silence, the knob on the mystery door began to turn.

A girl walked in.

If it hadn't been for the pink t-shirt with the rainbow Aztec-style design that he'd seen her wearing earlier, it would have taken him a while before he would have recognized Karen. He couldn't have known it, of course, but she'd swapped out her pair of tight black leather pants for a pair of tight black PVC jeans.

Karen had gotten wind of the festivities and hadn't wanted to be left out.

She strutted across the room in the same black high heels she'd worn for Curt (which went equally well with her vinyl trousers as they had with her leather trousers), without acknowledging Mason in the slightest -- not even a nod or a wave.

Mason couldn't help but think back to that moment in the village, still in escape mode, bumping into the recently taken Karen, all deflowered and interested in activity with any fresh, willing male. He recalled being badly tempted to look her in the eyes, to give in to Menudia, via Karen, right then and there, but somehow, he'd resisted.

Foolish, pre-Menudian Mason. Think of all the fun things he could have gotten up to in that time, instead of running around in fear like a buffoon!

The memory of him standing there near the pond, shocked at himself for finding Karen so attractive, now returned, along with her words: "Very cute, avoiding my eyes. Of course, you're free to look ... other places." He'd been afraid to look at her pants then. He had no such qualms about looking at her pants now.

Mason soaked in those lanky legs as she walked straight through the door that he and Danielle always walked through, but in the opposite direction, back into the anteroom, her movements telegraphing a knowledge that her outfit "said it all."

Mason rose off the mattress and followed her glossy, squeaky thighs into the anteroom. There were about five other doors on the walls of that tinier room -- the place was like a funhouse. Spinning around, he saw a door that was open, and he saw that it led to a spare, dimly-lit room which featured a brown leather armchair in the middle of it. He watched as Karen sat in the chair, her seated position causing her pants to press more tightly against her body, and closed her eyes.

They hadn't spoken a word to each other, but Mason knew what Karen wanted. After all he'd been up to as a Menudian, there was one item he hadn't crossed off his list. And Karen was not about to be refused.

He walked through the same door she had, closed it behind him, and placed a pillow at Karen's feet. Despite that last round with the five other girls, the thrill of fondling and unzipping the fly of a girl's vinyl trousers remained as intimidating as ever. Once he'd snapped open the metal fastener, lowered the zipper, and parted the sides, it was like the hard part was over.

When his tongue first made contact, she hardly moved.

Hmm, thought Karen. This one's not in much of a hurry. She couldn't decide if she liked or didn't like that. He was treating her clit like it was the world's tastiest artisanal, hand-crafted ice cream -- taking it lick by lick. He was going so slowly, Karen almost started to doze off.

But then she felt it -- the first rungs of the ladder. After two or three minutes, she began climbing the rungs. For a rookie, Mason wasn't doing half bad. She stretched her arms out and waited for the wave that only seemed a couple of rungs away but ... his tongue abandoned her clit in order to trace the outer rim of her labia. Fair enough. But soon he'd have his fill of that and return to the magic spot?

Karen got close a couple more times, a mewl escaping her lips, but he wasn't quite ready to lick the caramel out of the ice cream cone yet.

Then, at an almost undetectable level, he increased the speed of the flicking. So gradual was the climb, she didn't really know when she started succumbing in earnest. Her left hand stroked his wavy black hair while her right hand crawled its way under her t-shirt and began stroking her nipples as her mouth drooped open, her heels rattled against the floor, her eyes glowed a fate-sealing yellow, and she surrendered herself over to Menudia in her provocative vinyl jeans.

"Succumb! ... Succumb! ... standing on the sidelines all those years ... watching the other girls have their fun ... now it's your turn, dearie ... let him treat you and ... Succumb! ..."

Mason went a bit slower, then a bit faster, the pungent taste of Karen's juices mixing in with the occasional metallic taste of the nearby zipper teeth, then gave her hole a couple of quick darts ... everything he was doing seemed to be just about right.

Funny how the other girls had been catering to his pleasure for so long, and now the shoe was on the other foot. But he didn't seem to mind.

Karen rolled her head against the top of the leather armchair, her right hand switching from one breast to the other as she curled his black hair around the index finger of her left hand, feeling like a pampered PVC princess.

At first she thought things were winding down, but perhaps that was merely the difference in intensity between the alternating waves? In other words, she wasn't sure if she was about to have a second orgasm, or if this was all just phases of one long orgasm. After a particularly nasty flick, she leaned forward and let out a surprised "Oh!" before gaining more control of herself -- the first word she'd uttered the whole time.

Relaxing in her comfy leather chair, Karen rode Mason's tongue for hours, her body gliding up and down a continuous sine wave of multiple o's, the light in her eyes morphing between shades of white, yellow, and red, but never fading entirely. Every now and then she raised her right palm in the air, placed her left palm onto her peculiarly attired left thigh, and let her hips and torso twist against Mason's mouth, the bottom of her pink t-shirt (thoroughly soaked with sweat) tickling her belly.

Ellis could have never imagined that his impromptu decision to lick Karen's pussy while they were floating there in the meadow, hardly bothering to remove the pants of his virgin lover before doing so, would've turned into a whole "thing," but sometimes, that's how it goes.

As she came without a care in the world, her hands kneading her petite tits through her top, Mason's hands groped her glossy trousers like it was the only thing he'd ever wanted to do in his life -- and the more his hands groped her glossy trousers, the harder he seemed to lick.

Karen sat there passively as Menudia whispered for what felt like an eternity: "... let yourself go ... relax your body ... you have no agency anymore ... you like not having agency anymore ..."

Mason's clit caressing was so constant, focused, and enthusiastic, it wasn't difficult for Karen to relax as Menudia suggested. She began wondering whose tongue she enjoyed more: Ellis's, Curt's, or Mason's. Hell, she'd had all three. Probably Mason's -- or maybe that was just recency bias?

When she let out three breathy "Oh God!" exclamations in quick succession, and three last ripples traveled up from her abdomen to her chest before being absorbed by her favorite pink t-shirt, she closed her eyes, her arms tumbling down her body, the skin of her limp hands sliding against her cool vinyl thighs providing a brief, tactile reminder of the source of her protracted pleasure, before sleep took even that nice thought away.

Mason slurped the unconscious Karen for several more minutes, her sleek legs fanned out at an awkward angle, her body at rest in her brown leather chair. Then, having given his previously shy classmate what her attention-getting outfit demanded, Mason slid to the floor, barely managing to place a pillow under his head moments before his body followed Karen's example.