The Adventures of Wonderslut, Installment 16

When we last left Felicity, aka Wonderslut, she was being subjected to a test by a studly He-robot to see if she was really as non-orgasmic as she claimed. And he was doing it the most basic way he could…by giving her a world class fucking. And she’s reached about the end of her tether.

Well, shit. If Larry the robot was going to punish her, she could punish him right back. Over the years, well-meaning people had invited her to karaoke bars and had the damaged eardrums to prove it. To put things nicely, she was a lover not a singer. So, while Larry continued fucking her over the bank lady's desk, and doing a bang-up job of it, she tipped her head back and let loose in song.

"I've been working on the raaaaaailroad," she belted out. "All the live long daaaaaay."

"What in hell is she doing?" the bank lady demanded?

That, finally, launched Jason into action. Though she couldn't see anything behind her, the sound of his chair tipping over was loud enough. Then, he shoved Larry enough to throw him off his rhythm.

"Okay, now you've done it," Jason shouted.

"Go away," Larry said. "I'm performing my function."

And boy, howdy was he. Under other circumstances, she'd have come once or twice by now and would be contemplating doing something really nice and nasty to thank him. She wouldn’t do it for this particular unit, but once this whole ordeal had ended, she might buy a robot of the same model as Larry and program him for good instead of evil.

"She never sings that song unless she's really, really mad," Jason said. "Cut it out right now."

"I've been working on the raaaaaailroad, just to...." Just to what? She normally didn’t have to remember lyrics during sex, especially good sex. "Just to piss the day awaaaaaay."

"Ye gods, make her stop that screeching," Mrs. Marker said. "She‘s hurting my ears."

Really? Allrighty now. “She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she commmmmmmes.”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best choice. Felicity thought up another old folk song. “In a cabin in a canyon excavaaaaaating for a mine…”

“Stop!” the bank lady howled. “For the love of God, make her stop.”

"She won't quit unless he does," Jason said.

"All right, all right," Mrs. Marker said. "That'll be enough, Larry."

Finally, the frantic and lovely movements of that gorgeous cock in her pussy stopped. Larry pulled out and stepped back. Felicity almost slid off the desk and down to the floor out of a combination of relief and disappointment. Arms caught her. Familiar arms, and she slumped against Jason’s chest. He helped her to a chair, nearly carrying her when her legs wouldn't hold her.

The moment he set her onto it, the contact of the cushion against her clit sent her over the edge. She climaxed with a rush, all the pent-up lust flooding through her, starting in her pussy and radiating outward. Oh, man. Oh man, oh man. She let out a loud "ahhhhhh!" As soon as she got that out of her system, she raised the back of her hand to her forehead in faux distress. "It was ghastly. Horrible. I don't know how I endured it."

Jason hovered over her, the perfect solicitous husband or reasonable facsimile thereof. He patted her hand. "It's over, my dear. We'll get you a nice cup of tea, and you'll feel more like yourself."

Mrs. Marker's voice cleared. "Mr. Plumswindle, may I speak frankly?"

"I don't see that you have reason to speak at all," Jason said. "After what you've put my wife through."

"All the more reason we need to talk." Mrs. Marker pointed at the empty chair. "Please, sit down."

Now that Jason had figured out how high dudgeon worked, he seemed reluctant to give it up. He stood there rigidly, holding her hand.

"Do as the lady says," Felicity said. "I'm not strong enough to leave yet, anyway."

Mrs. Marker took her seat behind her desk and laced her fingers together on the top. She acted as if the scene she and Larry had performed took place on her desk every day. But then, perhaps it did. By now, Larry had allowed his mechanical member to shrink and had put it back into his pants. If a stranger were to enter the room just then, the person could easily conclude the Plumswindles were having a perfectly ordinary conversation about a mortgage. Felicity herself might have become convinced that the last several minutes had never occurred if her pussy weren't still fluttering in the aftermath of that orgasm.

"You have a problem, Mr. Plumswindle," Mrs. Marker said. "Your wife is a frigid, puckered-up old prune."

"Now, see here," Jason said. “She’s not old.”

"Please." The woman raised her hand to silence Jason. "It's noble of you to want to defend her, but you know the truth as well as I do. You're never going to have any decent sort of sex life unless you do something about her."

"But Ms. Marker, I came to enroll my husband in the seminar so he can be cured," Felicity said. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"Mrs. Plumswindle, I could enumerate everything wrong with you but the bank closes at five," Mrs. Marker said. She turned back to Jason. "I'd suggest you sign up for the earliest opening we have."

"Do you mean...there's actually hope for my wife and me?" Jason said.

"There's hope for you." Mrs. Marker gave Felicity a dour look. “I’m not sure about your wife.”

Felicity crossed her arms over her chest and glared right back. “You don’t have to be insulting.”

“I see I need to be clearer about this,” the woman said. “Mrs.　Plumswindle, your face could be in the dictionary next to ‘frigid witch.’ You give dysfunctional a bad name. Dry ice gives off more heat than you do. You manage to combine sexual inhibition with insipidness in a way that could keep a team of psychiatrists in practice for decades. You are, without a doubt, the most uptight, unpleasant, unresponsive individual who’s ever come though my office door, and I’ve seen quite a collection of misfits and unfortunates.”

“Thanks so much. As my mother always told me, if you don’t have something nice to say about someone, don’t say anything at all.”

“I can see I’m not getting through to you,” Mrs. Marker said.

Something moved. Something just at the corner of Felicity’s field of vision. She sat quietly and emptied her mind of the details of the conversation going on around her. Everything felt as it had before, or at least as it had ever since Larry had lowered the security soundproofing and had nearly fucked her brains out. Still, she couldn’t quite rid herself of her spidey-sense that something was off -- the feeling that someone was watching them.

“Mrs. Plumswindle?”

Felicity jerked her head toward the desk and found the bank lady staring at her. “I’m sorry?”

“Do you or do you not want to be helped?” the woman said.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Felicity continued doing her best to absorb everything around her. Remaining open to all her perceptions, and finally she got it. The thing that had been making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. There was a painting of a horse on the wall behind the bank lady's head, and the horse in question had some very un-horsey eyes, and they moved.

She stood and pointed at it. "Who's back there?"

"What?" Mrs. Marker looked over her shoulder at the painting. "Who in hell…"

The human eyes disappeared from the horse, and the real parts of the painting slid back into place. Whoever had been watching had realized they'd been detected. Obviously.

“Whoever that is, I’ll skin him alive.“ Mrs. Marker humphed loudly, stalked to bookshelf, and pushed a large volume on the bottom level. The whole unit swung inward, revealing a hidden room. Larry the robot followed his boss into it, and Felicity didn't hesitate to go after them. As usual, Jason brought up the rear.

All four of them ended up staring a lone woman wearing a blouse buttoned up to a Peter Pan collar, a navy blue skirt that hung to mid-calf, and sensible shoes. Said woman, who looked mighty familiar, by the way, stood in those sensible shoes on top of a step ladder. From up there and with the benefit of the eye holes, she’d witnessed the entire scene in Mrs.　Marker’s office. Including Larry’s whirring pneumatic penis and how he’d used it on Felicity for those excruciating minutes.

The woman didn’t appear to be the type to enjoy that sort of display, but her ample boobs rose and fell as though she’d run a mile. Or as if she’d become aroused watching. That triggered something in Felicity’s memory. More and more familiar.

“Blanche,” Jason said from where he stood next to Felicity. “How nice to see you again.”

Of course. The super-prude they’d caught trying to put a tracking device on the Slutmobile. Jason would recognize her seeing as he’d had the dubious pleasure of fucking her. They’d even taken her back to the Slutgrotto and “tortured” the information about Sylvester from her with a well-applied vibrator. She’d obviously gone right back to her evil ways as soon as they’d released her.

“Yeah, Blanche. Watched any good porno lately?” Felicity said.

Mrs. Marker stared darts of venom at the woman. “You fool. Who gave you permission to use this room?”

“You think I’m a fool,” the woman answered. “Don’t you know who you’ve been entertaining in your office?”

“That’s none of your business,” the bank lady said.

“Really?” Blanche gave the woman a shit-eating grin. “Then, I guess you’re not interested that this woman is Wonderslut and the man is her sidekick, the Piston.”

“Wonderslut,” Mrs. Marker said in a tone full of both contempt and awe as she turned toward Felicity.

Of course, the cat had been out of the old bag the moment they’d encountered Blanche. Note to self: mandatory to wear costumes and masks when dealing with captives.

“At your service,” Felicity said. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Larry, you know what to do,” Mrs. Marker said.

Another shtupping? While that would be fun, and she surely didn’t have to pretend to be non-orgasmic any longer, it probably wouldn’t accomplish anything Sylvester’s henchmen and women wanted. As Larry approached, he didn’t unzip his fly. Instead, something that looked remarkably like the tip of a hypodermic needle extended from his index finger. He grabbed Felicity around the shoulders with enough strength to hold her firmly in place. Then, the needle went into her arm.

When he released her, she reeled backward as her vision began to blur. Jason launched himself toward her, but Larry intercepted him and proceeded to give him a shot, as well. As her knees gave out and her vision dimmed, her last sight was of Jason toppling into a pile next to her.

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