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Old 07-24-2012, 05:35 PM   #1
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The Amazon Species (closed for collette23)

A bead of sweat dripped from the blonde brow of the rather anal, but always smiling Dr. Clare Underwood. The rather short, curvy woman stepped in the two person boat set in the murkiest of murky waters. The river, so thick and brown it reminded her more of Willy Wonka's river of chocolate, rather than a river of water in the Amazon jungle. The boat made of wood so thin it seemed it would crack into tow with each step she took. As she sat her rather round tush on the bench, it seemed to bend and give so much she was sure it was going to snap. This was no indication of Dr. Clare Underwood's stature though. She was far from overweight, though certainly not skinny. Rather short, but she had the perfect curves that most men and women equally lusted for.

She pushed up her thick framed glasses, a la Lisa Lobe, and looked around as the guide pushed the boat off the bank. It had been two months since she first came to the Amazon rainforest, but not a day went by that she didn’t simply stare in awe at its beauty. It seemed that every inch of ground was covered in lush foliage, the greenest trees and plants, and the most beautiful, vibrant wildlife she had ever seen. The sounds of the tropical birds, crickets, and other random calls of various wild creatures, had become quite soothing. She had grown to love the storms that helped lull her to sleep almost every night since she had arrived. The rain was constant and so soothing.

Today, the feeling was very different. She was leaving the comfort of the hut and familiar surroundings to journey down the river into unknown territory. Her guide, a native to the area and expert in the ins and outs of this massive jungle, was apprehensive himself. There was a clear look of panic on his face. He usually smiled at her, almost staring at her obsessively at times. She didn't think anything of it though, as this particular ebony skinned tribesman, rarely encountered someone with a skin tone like hers. Though they were a people who had adapted to a more modern lifestyle, working hand in hand with foreigners, whether it be a group of anthropologists or a wealthy adventurer, this particular guide, Si'en, hadn't ever had the pleasure of working with such a beautiful woman. Clarece always had a natural glowing tan, despite obsessively using sun block since she first came to the rainforest. Her face was rather round with cheek bones that were not very pronounced. With full lips and a short, rounded nose, she was quite beautiful. Her hair was naturally blonde, falling just past her shoulders, staying rather straight even on the most humid days. It was no secret that she was often stared at by her colleagues back home in the states. Of course, her rectangular glasses only enhanced the nerdy look which so many seemed to find so attractive.

Now, to many she was know as Dr. Clare Underwood, expert on some of the most isolated tribes in South America, but to her friends had was known as Clarece. The story of how her nickname became a longer version of her given name is interesting in and of itself. Her hippy mother, in an ongoing effort to be different, and pass the need to be different onto her children, gave her the name Clare, and specifically stated that "there will never be an "i" in my daughter's name. And so she was simply known as Clare until the second grade. It was then that her teacher, Ms. Anderson-Smith, saw her printout of her student role on the very first day of school. The list, printed in all of its dot-matrix glory, showed the last name as Underwood, Clare. Ms. Anderson-Smith assumed that this print out, in all of its dot-matrixness, had cut off this poor girl's name. She must be Clarece. Poor Ms. Anderson-Smith, wasn’t the best of spellers herself, not realize “Clarisse” is the more common spelling. Who would name a child Clare, not Claire? And so she called her Clarece, and so Clare's friends called her Clarece. Now, this is only significant in that Clarece felt that she had been freed by this teacher. This label given to her by her hippy mother, who only seemed stranger and more quirky as Clarece got older, was removed. Clarece was thrilled to be given a new name, albeit not that much different. She loved and adored Ms. Anderson-Smith. Clarece became obsessed with her school work, wanting to impress her teacher. This obsession took hold in the second grade, and continued to the 3rd, 4th, 5th and so on. Also, this seemingly insignificant name change gave Clarece a sense of empowerment and control that she loved and craved. She grew up to become quite the opposite of her mother. More anal retentive than free thinking and different. It served her well in excelling in school, graduating at the top of her class, and becoming amongst the youngest woman at her university to get a PhD in Anthropology.

Clarece never enjoyed feeling helpless or uneasy. This is rather unfortunate as for the first time in a long time, she was finding herself very uneasy. Always independent, she was studying in the Amazon alone, with no one else on her research “team.” Si'en was visibly trembling as the boat moved down the river.
"Are you sure you want to go to the forbidden area? Ma'am please. An evil people live there."

Though quite uncertain, she spoke confidently, "Yes, please...I have to see for myself."

As they made their way through the murky brwon water, Clarece glimpsed down, wondering what kind of horrible creatures lived below. She found herself becoming quite scared as her imagination got the best of her. Piranhas, alligators, anacondas, all likely inhabitants of this wide, eerily calm river. And her she was, alone with one other person in a boat, so old, so fragile, it might jus break in half at any moment. As she looked back at the wake the tiny boat left behind, she was quite sure she saw something...many things. Appearing just below the surface of the water, there seemed to be some sort of long, green snake like creature. They were skinny, dark, and hidden just beneath the veil of brown liquid which only made them even more mysterious. First, just a few, then seconds later, hundreds. These long green things did not swim and squirm like snakes, they were rather still, though, they waved and moved with the water as the boat traveled over them. Perhaps they were some sort of a plant, but she clearly saw random patterns of black veins in some of them as she looked over the bow of the boat. Si'en trembled more than before. He looked to Clarece, "Ma'am...do you see them? These waters are dangerous. We must go back."

For a moment, Clarece though he might be right. She had no idea what was inhe water beneath, and then this most knowledgeable guide was terrified. It was time to go back. They could try finding this lost tribe another time.

"Very well, Si'en. Yiu might be right. Let's turn-"

Her words stopped before she could finish. A long snake like tentacle thrust upward from the water and took hold of Si'en by the neck. A second tentacle, rose at least ten feet straight up. It was dripping with water, clearly made of some sort of smooth green flesh, black veins now clearly visible as it waved about in the air. Where it came from, and what it really was, was not obvious to either of them. The second grasped wrapped around Si'en's head with a quick whipping motion. Then -snap-. His neck was twisted completely so that his head had spun completely around. His eyes wide open, forever frozen in a look of fear. The two river tentacles then threw him into the murky water like a rag doll.

Terrified does not even begin to describe how Clarece felt. The fear that overcame her was so powerful, she couldn’t even fathom a whimper, let alone a scream. She stared at the carnage that took place before her, unable to move, unable to think. Then, the tentacles disappeared beneath the water’s surface as quickly as they appeared.

Seconds passed, then minutes. Everything seemed calm and quiet, with only the usual squawking and chirping in from the jungle in each bank that had always been there. Clarece's heart raced, it never slowed down. Finally, gathering the slightest bit of courage, she propped herself up slightly and looked to each side of the boat. Still, hundreds of tentacles waved in the water. Then, the boat began to move downstream, picking up speed. Clarece was certain that she was about to have her neck snapped, meeting the same fate her guide did, but instead, the tentacles moved her quickly downstream., guiding the boat underneath her feet. She simply looked around in awe. She was terrified and confused.

Clarece's body was covered in sweat, aside from the heat of the sun, which now sat in the middle of the bright blue sky over the river, the air was thick and humid. Her consistently straight hair suddenly became quite frizzy. Though fear was the dominant emotion, the slightest bit of curiously overcame her as she looked over to a clearing along the bank to which the boat was clearly heading. There, standing in the tall, green grass which stood still in the thick air, stood two figures. As she approached, it became clear to her that she was starring at two women in the nude. Both women about the same height, had their eyes locked on her. Now only fifty or so yards away, she could make out that one of these women was petite and pale as can be, with shoulder length brown hair. Her sapphire blue eyes staring at Clarece. She was clearly not native to this land. Clarece couldn’t help but be drawn to her rather modest chest, small breasts with pale pink nipples and rather wide areolas. Her body quite slender. The other woman, was a beautiful ebony delight. She was tall with an athletic, almost muscular build. Much more of an Amazon woman. Her deep brown eyes also locked on Clarece. They both stared at her as she approached. Now, Clarece was the one trembling, though, there was something comforting about seeing other people, though, it was rather bizarre they were naked. Were these women part of the evil tribe that everyone has been afraid of. The boat seemed to propped itself against the bank, now only a few feet away from the women. This was simply the work of the river tentacles, which, for whatever reason, lead Clarece to these women.

"Hu..uhhh...hi....I am Clarece."

"We know, we have been expecting you," the pale brunette said with an evidently American accent.

"Expecting me?" Confused, she looked at them, bewildered. "But...how did you know? I thought I was going to did...those tentacles...they killed-"

"The tentacles do as we command. You will come with us," the ebony beauty cut her off, then offered her hand to help Clarece out of the boat. . She really had no idea why she reached forward and accepted it. Clearly, these women commanded a vicious creature that killed her guide. She shouldn't trust them, should she? But there was something warm and welcoming about the look in their eyes. There was an aurora about them. She felt, drawn to them. Clarece felt the slightest bit of arousal from seeing their beautiful naked bodies, two women with very different shapes, and contrasting skin tone. They were very sexy, despite the strange circumstance under which they presented themselves. As Clarece took the hand of the naked woman, she felt a spark, and energy that traveled down her arm, through her spine, and directly to her clitoris. She felt immediately, strong sexual arousal. Her nipples hardened instantly. Her clitoris throbbing with pleasure. She became flush as she squeezed her thighs tightly together as if to try to hide and douse the feeling. Yet, she was entranced, not letting go. The fair skinned, petite woman then extended her hand, and Clarece gladly accepted with a smile beaming in her face.

Another spark of energy flowed through her body, down her spine, engulfing her lower body, sending her into an instant orgasm. Her inner folds, barely wet from the first spark of arousal, released a river of feminine cum that filled her panties and bled through into her khakis. Her body tremored and she nearly fell to the ground had her new companions not held her up. It was the sort of orgasm that was so sudden and intense, it simply wasn't supposed to happen. Within seconds she went from terrified, to curious, to a state of sexual bliss. She looked up and smiled, gazing at each of her strange new friends. She stood nearly limp for a moment, panting, and then slowly regained her strength and began to walk again, following their lead, hand in hand. Clarece did not question anymore. She cared not who they were why there were naked, or where they were going. She did not question the fact that such an instantaneous orgasm was nearly impossible without build up or physical stimulation of any erogenous zone. She questioned nothing. She just followed.

The triad of women made their way down a clearly well walked path in the middle of the lush grassy field. Many people have clearly walked this path, wearing away the grass into nothing. The naked women on each side, walking in their bare feet over the hot dirt, but not wincing from the pain they should feel. Clarece, the outlier, dressed in dirty, sweat covered khakis pants and a plain khaki shirt. She grinned with delight. All was right. As they entered the mouth of a cave ahead, seeming dark as night inside, she did not hesitate. This is where her friends should lead her. It all seemed so perfectly fine. They entered the rather large opening in the rock which was wide enough for all three to keep in line, holding hands. The two naked women needed only brush aside a few bushes and vines as they walked in. They slowly faded into the darkness of the deep cavern.

The birds continued to squawk and chirp. Random centipedes crawled by, giant flies and wasp buzzed by. A six foot ling black snake slithered across the path the women walked upon only a few minutes ago. Then, coming from deep within the cave, a scream. A painful scream full of terror and fear. Clarece's cry echoed through the jungle, starting the green Macaws as they all flew away in synchronicity. Then…silence.

Three weeks passed and all was quite outside the cave. No one had left since the three women entered that day. Inside, the LCD screen of a laptop glowed. Turned on for the first time in nearly a month. Two hands laid upon the keyboard. Two hands with only four fingers, and long black claws. They were covered in the darkest of dark green flesh. Smooth in texture and sure to feel much like human skin to anyone who might touch them.

The hands, those of an alien being, typed quite quickly:
Dear Vita,

I’m sorry to have gone so long without writing you. I know it has been over three weeks now since we last corresponded. I could write pages and pages, explaining what has happened, but it would be much easier for me to show you. I want you to come find me. There is something wonderful and glorious that I have to show you. Words cannot describe how magnificent my discovery is. You just have to see it for yourself, with your own two eyes.

I’m sending the coordinates of my camp. You will find supplies and everything you need. Just come find me. Soon! Please! I can’t wait to see you. What a wonderful time we are going to have together. We are about to change the world!

Your friend,
With her long black claws and elongated alien fingers, she clicked on send, and closed the laptop. Then, a voice, “It is done mistress. She will join us soon.” The voice odd, altered, but still, familiar in that it sounded much like Clarece.

Last edited by palemoon2035 : 07-24-2012 at 09:25 PM.
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Old 07-27-2012, 08:23 AM   #2
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Vita, alerted by the ‘You’ve got email’ ping, clicked on the message. She read it and snorted, then forwarded it to her boss, picking up the phone as she did so. The call was answered instantly.

“Typical,” she said to the Director of the Institute for Human Ethology, ”Clarece disappears off the face of the earth, we are just about to mount a rescue mission and she pops up with a tantalising hint about some ‘glorious’ discovery. Honestly, that woman is the bloody limit!”, she added wryly.

“Calm down,” came the reply, “we both know Clarece’s penchant for exaggeration; she’s probably spotted a monkey with an odd colouration and is assuming it’s a new link to Homo floresiensis. I know you’ll scream sexism at me but sometimes Clarece has ‘blond’ moments.”

Vita heard the smile in Bill’s voice. He was right, of course. He knew both of them so well. They’d worked together for several years, when she and Clarece were fresh out of Uni as post-doctoral researchers. Bill had joked, just after he recruited them to the Institute, that they were like the twins in the movie. Not that Clarece looked like Danny DeVito; although by far she was the shorter of the two and had contrasting colouring. Vita was tall, willowy and auburn and Bill was right, they did look like chalk and cheese in the award photographs.

Vita looked at the wall above her desk. Bill, bless him, insisted that every award, qualification and recognition certificate be displayed. They all joked that the only one left to get was Grade 2 Swimming. Clarece’s achievements were stupendous, she had awards from the National Geographical Society and the Institute of Animal Ethology and yet she was self denigrating about those achievements, being ever driven by her quest for the as-yet undiscovered.
Vita looked up to Bill, still; he was a surrogate father figure as well as their boss. He was the calm eye of the storm. But he could be doggedly determined if needed. She smiled as she recalled his nagging over revisions of a paper she submitted to the Royal Zoological Society. She hadn’t felt it was worth it but gave in and then was gobsmacked to receive a life time award for services to zoological research and global recognition of her work.

Bill’s deep laugh over the phone brought her back to the present. “Well, are you going to find out what this discovery is” he asked, “or are you going to sit on that delectable bum of yours all summer?”

She ignored his pathetic attempt to get a rise out of her. Laughing back she quipped, “I might as well go and see what she wants, you are a miserly slave-driver, I haven’t had a well-funded overseas trip for ages. And as you have so generously ordered me to go, I’ll say, yes and thank you.”

Bill spluttered, “Touche! And I’ve probably been hoist with my own petard, serves me right.”

Vita grinned at Bill’s use of archaic phrases, that was him all over; using 16th century words where 21st ones would do!

She promised to let him have her travel itinerary and proposed budget; she didn’t, for a minute, believe Clarece wanted her to arrive empty handed.

She looked down at her body; she wasn’t going to be able to lend her colleague any clothes, her chest looked almost flat in comparison, bee stings on an ironing board was how she described them.
She started a list of essentials for both her and Clarece, hoping that some things from that would restock the camp.

She rang the Research Coordinator,
“Jill, so glad you are here, I need to put together supplies for a short expedition to South America.

“Yes, Dr Underwood’s there and I’m joining her.

“Yes, I will need clothing for jungle trekking; My size? I’m a 10, but I need trousers with 32” inside leg.

You will organise the clothes and the standard jungle equipment for me? That’s excellent, thank you, Jill.”

“Good”, she thought, “that’s the outerwear sorted, I just need to buy some undies”. She logged onto Figleaves and ordered some sloggi thongs, not the sexiest stuff on the website but just right for high humidity environments.

Vita left the office rather later than usual, having been subjected to one of Bill’s bear hugs and his completely sexist whack on the bum. Thus propelled on her way she went home to pack and explain to her ‘friend with benefits’ that there wouldn’t be any of those until her return.
She knew Dan would tease her; he always did before she went on an expedition. He made fun of what she looked like in jungle greens, pointing out how the colour made her hair seem redder and her eyes greener and usually adding that her freckles made their own camouflage.
She knew she’d miss the sex. Dan and her had met through a BDSM website that she’d signed up for as the result of a dare at a party. Fortunately the phone photo was unrecognisable as her but Dan had been attracted to her because of the comedy he’d seen in the dog chain someone had looped round her neck.

She winced at that memory, it was so naff. She’d had to change her email to avoid the deluge of messages triggered by that pic. Dan’s response was the only intelligent message; her interest piqued, she’d met him in a pub and spent three hours, over one increasingly warm glass of white wine, finding out that she was sexually submissive and wanted Dan to ‘screw the arse off her!’
She thoroughly enjoyed the Dom/Sub games they played and would miss the intense orgasms she had from being totally controlled by someone else. “This discovery of Clarece’s better be good”, she said to herself.

Two days later she checked in at Heathrow for the 14 hour flight to Rio de Janeiro. She was following Clarece’s route via Matacapa to the Tumucumaque Mountains National Park. She would be travelling the last leg of the journey by voadeira and then canoe. She remembered how her colleague described the area as almost entirely uninhabited by humans; reconnaissance flights had revealed a smattering of wildcat miners, but no traces of native Indians or other riverine peoples.

So what could Clarece have found she wondered. She’d tried to get further information but her colleague wasn’t replying to emails. It did occur to her that Clarece might have been kidnapped but reasoned that the Institute would have received a ransom demand by now. It was much more likely that Clarece had forgotten to charge her laptop and was too busy with her find to bother to check the messages.

A seasoned traveller, Vita avoided all the usual tourist traps; she paid a reasonable taxi fare to her hotel, met the agent who had her ticket for the voadeira and texted the guide who would navigate the canoe to Clarece’s base camp.

Just in case the other woman was checking her messages, she sent Clarece a short email:

‘ETA dusk two days from now, river willing. V’
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Old 07-29-2012, 12:10 AM   #3
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The glow of the LCD screen was the only source of light in an otherwise dark, isolated chamber in which Clarece slept for nearly a month. Deep in the cave which she had come to know as home. The exact size and makeup of the room was hard to discern in the current darkness with only one, low power source of light in the center. At this time of night Clarece was always surrounded in silence and darkness. A far cry from the soothing storms and chirping crickets she had grown to love. Some of the dim light reflected off of the moist, rocky walls. A few random tentacles glistened slightly, their dark green flesh, shrouded in dark black shadows.

On the screen, an open Microsoft Outlook Inbox which hadn't been closed since Clarece sent her friend and colleague a short e-mail requesting that she come find her. There were at least seven new, unanswered e-mails from both Bill and Vita, highlighted in bold in her inbox, all of which she didn't care to respond to. Inquiries as to what she found, why she hadn't communicated in weeks, etc. All Clarece card to know was when V was going to arrive. So as the soft "ping" echoed through her chamber, she was overcome with excitement. Still, in darkness, her form was nearly indiscernible from her surroundings. Though a silhouette revealed the same curvy, feminine form she had always had. Her height, unchanged. Then her voice, strange and squeally, whispered, "finally, she is coming."

Her silken emerald colored hands, each with four elongated fingers, began to type vigorously spitting out a few simple sentences.

Can't wait to see you. This discovery is more amazing than words can describe. Don't worry about supplies, clothing, etc. You won't need much of anything once you get here. Oh, and don't tell any of the locals that you have heard from me. We have to keep this low key for now.

Another ambiguous message. This wasn't unusual though for Clarece. Throughout her time working for the Institute, she had earned the right to go about her business without being questioned. She could get away with revealing little, if anything about what she was doing with research funds. In a few short years, her achievements had become unparalleled by anyone in the Institute. Revered by her colleagues, her work alone had earned the Institute international recognition, grants, and public and private funding, the likes of which they would never have seen had it not been for Dr. Underwood's accomplishments. In her relatively short time with The Institute, she had been published in countless journals, including 6 publications in The Journal of Applied Animal Etiology, 7 publications in The Journal of Anthropological Research, and one article in The Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. The latter, being quite odd considering she was an Anthropologist, not a Psychologist. She had managed to cross over into various fields, simply because she had such a thirst for knowledge. Clarece would find herself engaging in research that often had nothing to do with monkeys or apes. Yet, she saw everything as being connected. She often came to the rainforests of Africa and South America to study chimps, but she instead became so fascinated with the local culture and native tribes, she would return to the States with two volumes titled Observations of The Uncontacted Ayoreo Tribe. She also authored Social Psychological Theories As They Apply to the Bonobo Chimpanzee. Both of these books authored from research she conducted during two month excursions that had initially only been authorized for two weeks.

Now, this discovery, this culture, this species which she was now a part of, trumped all discoveries she had previously made. She grinned, pearly white fangs glistening from her otherwise dark and mysterious silhouette. Her previous accomplishments were no longer of concern to her. The only text she care about now was The Ancient Text. She had been reading it for hours every day since her indoctrination. The book was over a hundred thousand years old, but the soft, leathery cover, sheened a soft purple, and looked as though it had just been bound. The paper inside, made from some sort of fibrous plant, much like that which could be found on earth, had yellowed slightly. Currently opened to page 1,348, Clarece had been reading the ancient symbols which couldn't possibly be understood by even the most adept linguist. The symbols formed "sentences" which began in the center of the page and wrapped around the center in a spiral. To Clarece, the "words" made perfect sense. Though there was little Clarece didn't learn during her indoctrination, she was permitted to read the text which spoke of the species' biology, culture, and history. She craved knowledge, and above all, still enjoyed reading.

The night turned into day,. The soft glow of the LCD screen began to succumb to the more powerful sunlight, which found its way into Clarece's chamber through a series of tunnels and mirrors. She looked over to a pair of khakis, still soiled, but folded neatly on the rocky, cavern floor. Her same khaki shirt was also stacked there, topped off by her elegant black lace bra, with a tiny pink rose ribbon in the center between each cup. Despite being a very uptight scientist with little care for fashion, she simply had a thing for bras. When she wasn't doing field research or writing publications, she was shopping for the most beautiful bras she could find. A simple 34b cup was a common enough size, allowing her to find what she wanted almost anywhere. She had quite a collection from Victoria's Secret, though, she most enjoyed buying from Journelle and other high end stores. She even owned two bras which cost in excess of $800. These were custom made of the finest silk and cotton. If a bra didn't have a unique color pattern, or intricate lace weave, she dared not even touch it. Also included in her collection of undergarments were several corsets, which, although not really practical in this day and age, made for fun in the bedroom. She had only shared these with few of ex-boyfriends. The only other one who knew of her collection was V, to whom she revealed her secret love for corsets and underwear during one night of after-work drinks, as they suddenly found themselves sharing bedroom secrets and a mutual desire for BDSM. Clarece, however, never truly enjoyed the idea of controlling someone or submitting to them. But the outfits, they were so much fun.

So Clarece looked over her neatly folded outfit and became giddy. It wouldn't be much longer before she put these clothes back on to great her colleague, her friend, her first victim, V.

Last edited by palemoon2035 : 08-07-2012 at 08:06 AM.
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Old 08-03-2012, 07:09 AM   #4
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At last, another message from Clarece....

Vita was on the point of leaving the hotel when the 'ping' stopped her. Hurriedly, she clicked to open the email.
"Bugger, another enigmatic message"; spoken aloud this indicated her growing concern for her colleague.

Clarece was a law unto herself but this was weird behaviour even for her. This second message was almost identical to the first, and since when did Clarece not care about her creature comforts?

Vita vividly remembered the strop that Clarece threw when one of the local people hired to run their camp had torn a bit of lace on one of her bras. The tribeswoman was being kind when she washed Clarece's underwear. It was an extremely menial task for someone of her stature in the tribe but indicative of the respect she had for the famous American explorer.
The garments had been washed using the special soap formula that Clarece sourced from the only supplier in the African continent but she didn't realise that the traditional washing method involved flinging the clothes on a rock in the river. In a way this was typical of Clarece, she had little patience for the mundane, the humdrum minutiae of village traditions, if they had been documented already by someone else.
Fortunately, only a few of the younger men in the tribe could speak English and were off on a hunting/provisioning trip at the time. Vita, who spoke a smattering of the local dialect, was able to avoid a diplomatic incident by explaining Clarece's shrieked invective as a homage to the local Bonobos, they grimaced and hooted like that when demonstrating respect for senior group members.
She smiled as she recalled the lengths she'd gone to in calming her colleague down. Clarece had been incandescent at the damage to her $800 bra, but did eventually concede, grudgingly, that Vita's excuse was inspired, Bonobos did make the most extraordinary and angry sounding noises.

A knock on her hotel room door interrupted her reverie, "Doctor Signora? We go now, long ride ahead!"

It was Manuel, her guide, she glanced at her watch, he was right, this near the equator there were only 12 hours of daylight. As she was anxious to get as far as the third village upriver before dusk she hurried to open the door, shutting down her iPad as she went.

Manuel was leaning on the door jamb, a locally made evil smelling cheroot dangled from his lower lip. He grinned lasciviously at Vita, jiggling his genitals through his stained, baggy trousers.

He wasn't her first or even second choice; once the guides knew her intended destination they had declined the contract. Rolled eyes and muttered protective mantras had been the typical responses; when challenged the stories were consistently about mysterious river creatures that emerged at dusk to swallow canoes.
Personally, Vita considered these to be superstitions promulgated by the owners of the emerald mines aimed at discouraging freelance gem prospecting in the streams that fed the main waterways where the mines were sited.

Manuel was the only one who agreed to hire the men to paddle the large canoes and act as interpreter. The cost was double the usual rate; Vita knew this wasn't Manuel's attempt to fleece her as she'd seen the reaction when he'd hired the team. It seemed no-one wanted to navigate that particular tributary of the river and it was only their greed, at the promise of a large completion bonus, that made them accede to the contract.

Vita was desperate to reach Clarece, normally she would have steered clear of a revolting specimen of manhood such as Manuel. She was determined to sit as far away, in the canoe, from him as she could. She wanted to distance herself from the myriad aromas emanating from his person as well as discouraging him from attempts to touch her. The way he undressed her with his eyes made her shiver with distaste, his personal hygiene left a lot to be desired and his stance coupled with the yellowing of his eyes suggested years of substance abuse exacerbated by recurring bouts of malaria.

Manuel loaded the taxis with the boxes that Vita's colleagues had packed expertly with all the essentials she thought Clarece's base camp would need replenishing. She'd added spare mosquito netting as well as some of the luxury food she knew Clarece would be craving this far into her trip.
As she carried her personal belongings down to the transport that would take her to the dock she revisited the goodies she'd ordered for her colleague from various speciality suppliers in London. For some unfathomable reason Clarece was addicted to chunky peanut butter, confit de fraise and oatmeal biscuits. Each of those on their own were fine, Vita thought, but combined, ewww! Proof, if proof were needed, that it was unwise to mix the cuisines of the United States, France and Scotland!

As the taxi careered through the busy streets between the hotel and the river Vita was reminded of the wealth of the customs and practices of the different cultures in this part of South America; the European influence, particularly religion and the Jesuit sect, on laws and architecture; the genocide of the indigenous tribes by said Europeans; the mix resulting from slavery; all combined to produce an assault on the senses.

In common with many places where transport originates, the dock was lined with stalls, the vendors taking the opportunity provided by the frequent comings and goings on the river to hawk a wide range of products and services.
While Manuel supervised the loading of the canoes, she stopped at a fruit stalls and bought some limes. She planned to use these to mask the taste of chlorine from the water purifying tablets.

The loading took longer that planned; Vita was aware of the sullen and apparently resentful looks from the hired men. Manuel at first cajoled, then shouted and stamped his feet; finally he resorted to talking quietly to the group, making frequent leering glances at her, gesticulating as he did so. Vita recognised the international gesture for money and hoped that others were not sexual in nature; she didn't relish the thought of fighting off a group of men intent on rape.

Eventually the boxes and parcels were secured in the stem and stern of each canoe and covered with tarpaulin lashed through eyelets cut for the purpose along the rim. This left narrow benches for her and the men paddling. She insisted that Manuel took the lead canoe while she sat in the second, h gave in to her demand with bad grace; presumably, he wanted to try to wheedl his way into her knickers, "no way, Jose!" she said to herself.

This would be last time she would be able to access her email until they arrived at base camp. There the satellite dish would enable her to receive messages relayed by the equipment in geosynchronous orbit above the Earth. A thought struck her, surely Clarece must have set up a satellite link from where he was, how else could she send messages. Curiouser and curiouser, she thought, to quoted Lewis Carroll's character.

Well, hopefully, in two days time, she'd have the answer to that conundrum. She relaxed as the canoes sped on, for the most part silently; the prows carving through the sluggishly flowing brown water.
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Old 09-02-2012, 11:00 PM   #5
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It was clearly mid day by now. The sun beamed brightly into Clarece's chamber. The hole through which it shown was quite tiny, yet the elaborate system of tunnels and mirrors which stole sunlight from the outside world and directed it into this room, and many more rooms, was clearly a more sophisticated than any lighting system that even the most experienced engineer could dream of building. The world in which Clarece now lived was created by alien beings who's intellectual ability was unsurpassed by any human being. They referred to themselves simply as The Species. This wasn't debatable. It was fact. One not even look beyond this small chamber to see what they could do. Aside from somehow giving a windowless cavern sunlight brighter than day itself, Clarece's laptop was drawing power from an invisible, wireless source. The battery should have died weeks ago. The lack of Ethernet cables or a true wireless access point should also have made it impossible for Clarece to make any contact with the outside world. Yet, somehow, the laptop understood there to be a wireless router, or what appeared to be a wireless router, pretending to have an IP address with a subnet mask and a default gateway. Yet, it was really a tentacle. A living organism connected to a massive elaborate network of tentacles that carried electrical signals, thoughts, ideas, energies, chemicals, nutrients, fluids, and anything else a living nest...a living collective mind would need. The "broadband signal" preserved the digital integrity of Clarece's e-mail, and broadcast it to a manmade communications satellite somewhere in space which, in turn, interpreted it to be a data signal, which it then passed to a network of routers and fiber optic cables. Eventually, it made its way to the Institute’s e-mail server for V to read. Clarece did not understand how this worked. Of course, there was a lot she didn't understand right now.

It seems that Clarece didn't understand much of anything that was going on right now. Despite her chamber being very brightly lit this early morning, she still couldn't see herself. She didn't know what she looked like now. She could see her hands; her strange new hands. She once had long, slender fingers. Her nails always painted a pretty pink or light lavender. Now, it seemed she had four fingers on each hand. They were much longer now with an extra knuckle. Their thickness was about the same as her human hands were. At the end of each finger tip was a long black claw. With these hands Clarece felt more powerful...dangerous. She knew she could slice through the flesh of an enemy. She knew she could slice through metal if needed. She hadn't tried, she just knew. It was a powerful weapon which was integrated into her body. Yet, this was essentially all Clarece knew about her new body. For some unexplained reason, she could not see herself. This wasn't just because there was not mirror in her chamber. There were intricate mechanisms in place which prevented her eyes from focusing on her body. When she looked down at her new form, she saw a sort of blurry silhouette. It was as if her body was covered in a black shroud. She still felt like a woman in that she was certain she still had breasts and curves. She felt the presence of a vaginal opening…of some sort. She was even more aware of having a uterus and ovaries. In fact, she had a strong sense that she was very fertile. Still, she couldn't see herself beyond her hands. Her outward appearance remained a mystery. She was certain she was still the same height. Everything seemed to be the same height as it had always been from her perspective.

Clarece hadn't seen her body since she had been transformed. She didn't even remember being transformed, though she was certain that it had happened. She didn't remember much of anything from the first day she arrived in the nest. Everything changed though, the moment Tarsia, the naked brunette, touched her hand to help her out of the boat. At that moment, Clarece felt love, joy, elation. She felt such an emotional high, it transcended to her physical body. She remembered having an orgasm. It was an undeniable orgasm that happened because the emotions she felt were beyond what her brain could comprehend. She was lost in a sort of euphoria after that. Everything was quite difficult to perceive from that point forward. She remembered Tarsia suddenly becoming more assertive and demanding. She told Clarece she was her mistress. Yes, her mistress. Tarsia told Clarece to obey. She would obey. She wanted to do anything she could to achieve that orgasmic high again. Clarece remembered being lead into some sort of chamber. There were so many holes in her memory from that day. Of what she could remember… She remembered being wrapped in a sort of chrysalis. It was a cocoon in which she changed. This is where she was transformed. It was in this cocoon where her body was invaded by many tentacles and tendrils. She remembered the feeling as one pushed her legs apart, spreading her lips, sliding through and over her labia. She remembered needing air and the tendrils that burrowed into her nostrils and breathed for her. She winced as she vividly recalled the sting as a tentacle burrowed itself into the back of her upper neck, breaking the skin. It buried itself deep into her brain stem. The pain, almost unbearable as it connected to her nervous system. Then, the pain turned into almost unbearable pleasure as she achieved another spontaneous orgasm. She remembered nothing between that moment and the moment she woke, outside of the cocoon, covered in some sort of alien slime. It was a warm, soothing fluid. Sticky, natural… Everything was blurry. She couldn’t see as she adjusted to her new eyes. She had new eyes.

Now, in the present when Clarece reached back to feel her neck with her alien hands, there was no sign of a hole where the tentacle had burrowed itself. She was also reminded that she could not feel her new body either. It was as if the nerves in her fingers shut off just as they touched her alien flesh. It was in the cocoon, Clarece recalled, were she was reprogrammed. Still almost all of or her reprogramming remained hidden. Alien ideas, new instincts were buried somewhere in her mind. Clarece knew they would not be revealed to her until she showed loyalty. The only instinct she had now was to obey. She would do as her mistress Tarsia commanded. She had to. For Tarisa promised that obedience would lead to her becoming one with The Species. She would breed and be breeded with. She would help the invasion grow. Most importantly, if she obeyed, she could regain some of the control she craved so badly. She hated not being in control

All Clarece truly knew, was what she read of her new Species in The Ancient Text. Well, she wasn't even sure if this was her Species now, but she did know she belonged to them. She was owned by them. In order for her to even begin to see herself as one of them, in order for her to even have a glimpse of her new body, she must understand a specific passage in The Ancient Text. "What we are, is revealed to us, when we need to see it in ourselves. More importantly, what we are is not for others to see, as they will see us as they wish to see us, and we will see ourselves in that same way." Clarece stared as the symbols, written in the unique spiral pattern on the page in front of her. Of course, much of this is lost in translation. Translating from the language of The Species to English was quite difficult, if not impossible. Still, it made as little sense to her as it would any human being. The words might as well have been gi bberish. Clarece spent her time, alone in this chamber, trying to understand. Mistress Tarsia said she must understand if she wishes anything else to be revealed to her. Clarece stared and stared. She pondered this passage as she sat and stared at the rocky, tentacle covered walls of her room. And now... Now time was running out. V was on her way. It was actually only a matter of hours before V would come down the river and find the bank where Clarece was first greeted by Tarsia. "What am I supposed to see?" she muttered to herself in an alien language which she somehow understood and spoke fluently, though she wasn’t sure how.

Clarece thought more about how V's arrival to the bank would likely parallel her own experience. Poor V would likely witness the unfortunate demise of her guide. Of course Clarece was sure he had it coming. He probably already made a pass or two at V, and knowing her friend and colleague so well, she imagined the fiery V put him in his place. If not with just words, she probably slapped him, or kicked him in the crotch..****ice. That was one thing Clarece adored about v. She could hold her own. She had passion in her. A fire that was really only there because V cared so much. Clarece was glad to have come to know her, because she would always be there for her when she needed her.

Clarece vividly remembered the first time V stuck her neck out for her when they first began working together at The Institute. Clarece had been sent on a two week "training assignment” just north of the Kasai River in Central Africa. She already had a rather heated discussion with Bill about how the trip was much too short, even if she was only there for "organization and summary of data" already gathered by the stationed researcher, Dr. Catherton. So she took it upon herself to stay four additional weeks after realizing a small group of chimps had broken off of the group that was being studied and, for whatever reason, had stopped using the "tools" that the group which Dr. Catherton was studying had been using. Clarece thought his was fascinating and important. Dr. Catherton did not.

Upon return to the states, she was certain to be fired for costing the Institute tens of thousands of dollars in living expenses, food, and supplies that had not been budgeted for. V somehow managed to persuade the billing clerk to "misfile" the paperwork in the Authorized file, rather than the Denied file. How V managed to suade the clerk remained a mystery to Clarece. She took Vout for a drink after the whole ordeal at their favorite pub just down the street from The Institute. After they finished off a bottle of Merlot together, she asked her point blank how she did it. V mumbled something as she purposely covered her mouth with her hands. Now, she wasn't exactly sure, but Clarece could have sworn that V said, "I slept with her." This seemed very unlikely as V was quite the heterosexual and loved her boyfriend dearly. Yet, Clarece never found evidence to support otherwise. The fact that V would sleep with another woman just to "misfile" some paperwork showed what a caring and crazy/wild friend she was.

Clarece thought about what was about to happen. Somehow, she was supposed to greet V, appearing as her old self on the river bank. It was sort of an epiphany. Somehow the nonsensical passage that she kept reading over and over again suddenly made sense. She had to be seen as someone else expected her to be seen. It was only then that she could see herself. There wasn’t much else she could do after that. She looked down at her hands. He oddly shaped four-fingered hands. They suddenly changed before her eyes. Turning from the hands of an alien woman, to the human hands she had known as her own for 25 years. She had all five fingers again, and her nails, cut down and plain now, hand the same dirt under them she had when she first arrived on the river bank. There was no pain, no pleasure, no unusual feeling at all. Yet, she somehow transformed back into her human self. She looked over across the chamber and saw a mirror suddenly appear in the rock. It was as if it had always been there. Staring, she saw her beautiful naked form. She was the same blonde woman she had always known herself to be. Complete with a golden tan and curves. She smiled. Yet, she knew, this was some sort of illusion. A sort of camouflage. She appeared this way because she needed to, in order to seduce V. V! She was on her way. Suddenly, Tarsia entered the chamber. She was also in the nude human form that she first appeared in when Clarece was greeted by her 4 weeks ago. “It is time,” is all she said. Clarece nodded and followed her out of the chamber. The tow walked down a narrow, rather dimly lit, cave of sorts. The same tentacles spread all over the nest, latched onto the walls of the cave as they walked towards the mouth opening.

Finally, they found themselves outside. Clarece saw the sun, the sky, the trees; all for the first time since she has been taken. She inhaled the fresh air. Still, it felt odd. This wasn’t home anymore. The nest, inside the cave, that was home. This all seemed so foreign to her now. It wasn’t home. At least, it wasn’t yet. It would be, as the invasion progressed. Clarece looked down the river as the naked, pale, Tarsia stood next to her. She saw V’s boat slowly approach. She knew they had come to the tentacles, all swaying in the water beneath. Then, Clarece heard them. She heard the most beautiful song. It reminded her of the song of the Sirens. So beautiful, but dangerous. She heard something. A scream. It was V. It was likely at this moment her guide was panicking. They both were. But what if she was in trouble? What if he was attacking her? Clarece closed her eyes, and suddenly felt one with the tentacles in the river. She saw through them. She touched with them. She saw the face of the sinister Manuel with V. She didn’t know how, but she grabbed him. Wrapping tentacles around him. Pulling him up into the air. She held him there. Keeping him from V. She saw the look of panic on his face. She knew what she was supposed to do. She knew what The Species wanted her to do. She couldn’t though. She stopped. Then, her eyes opened and she was back on the river bank. Suddenly, another scream from the boat and a splash. She knew the tentacles finished the job and snapped his neck. Tarsia spoke to her with an attempt at a soothing voice, “It’s ok. Many don’t have it in them to kill the first time.” Tarsia smirked. V’s boat continued to approach. Clarece slowly saw her friend get closer. She saw her face. She was terrified. Yet, all Clarece could think was, “help me!” She hoped V heard her thoughts, “HELP ME!” And she hoped The Species didn’t hear a word, though, she was sure they could hear her thoughts.
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Old 09-24-2012, 09:06 AM   #6
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As the boats slid through the chocolate milk like river water, Vita had plenty of time to reflect on Clarece’s impact on the Institute. It seemed as though her colleague staggered from crisis to crisis in the name of scientific discovery. She still vividly remembered the first run-in Clarece had with Dr Catherton and Bill. In the end Clarece had been proved right and there had been grovelling apologies all round.
Vita shivered as she recalled what she’d done to protect her friend. Clarece’s extended stay had been paid for out of the emergency fund that every overseas project had. This was to be used for, well, Vita smiled wryly, ‘emergencies’ which were clearly defined as: ‘serious/life threatening illnesses requiring immediate repatriation’, or ‘outbreaks of critically contagious diseases such as Ebola hemorrhagic fever requiring immediate airlift away from the quarantined area’. Insisting on conducting research into her own theories clearly fell into neither category and Vita knew that should the transgression be discovered by the auditors then there was every likelihood that Clarece would not only have been sacked but possibly prosecuted as well.

It had been a learning curve for Vita, to say the least. She’d called the Accounts department to see if she could persuade Deirdre to save her friend’s skin. The other woman invited her downstairs and she’d been surprised about how amenable her colleague had sounded. Accounts were in the basement of the building, down there the paintwork was dark brown to match the Victorian wall tiles. People on the upper floors told jokes about the finance dwarves who lived underground. Deidre was no exception, she had a rather fierce facial expression and never joined in the gossip at staff events. The only woman in an otherwise male preserve she had the reputation of being something of a battleaxe. Vita felt rather anxious as she accepted the invitation to sit and explain the dilemma.

Deidre had closed the office door saying something about keeping the matter confidential and returned to her desk, sitting opposite Vita. She listened intently while Vita told the story of Clarece’s excesses. When Vita had finished speaking, Deidre was silent for a long moment, the only noise in the office the tapping made by one of her squared nails on the wooden surface of the desk.
Finally she spoke, “This is very serious, if I cover this up I could be prosecuted for fraud, so to take this risk it has to be worthwhile.”
She licked her lips as she looked at Vita. The other woman had no idea what would make it worth Deidre’s while so she sat there, a bit like a rabbit in the headlights, staring anxiously.

Deidre leaned forward and said, in a remarkably normal voice, “I have always fancied you, Vita, ever since our induction day when we played those trust games, you have such lovely soft skin, touching your arm quite turned my head.”
Vita was shocked, she remembered the exercises where everyone was blindfolded and bumping into people trying to guess who they were and had thought the little caresses were accidental. Clearly not, on Deidre’s part.

Deidre had looked deep into Vita’s eyes and whispered, “Of course I’ll save Clarece’s job but you have to do something for me. You will, won’t you!”
She stood up and came around to the other side of the desk to stand in front of Vita. She ran a finger down the gap at the top of Vita’s blouse. The shock broke Vita’s paralysis and she jumped up and went to the door. As she tried the handle she realised the door was locked; she turned to protest and found Deidre standing right behind her. The other woman put out her hands and Vita backed away until her hips were touching the two drawer filing cabinets that lined the office. She leant back as the other woman approached, not realising that this action thrust her hips and pubis forward.
Deidre stopped as her knee brushed Vita’s. She reached forward with one hand and cupped Vita’s mound through the soft fabric of her dress. It shocked Vita and she gasped..
Deirdre smiled and ran her hand up Vita’s torso, finding a nipple she caressed it to erection. “You haven’t done this before, have you?”, she asked.
Vita shook her head. She’d never had a sexual encounter with a woman before and to be honest never thought she would so her body’s reaction shocked her, everything between her legs tingled and her clit ached.
Deidre pushed her knee forward and said, “Open your legs!”. Vita didn’t move and the other woman said, in a staccato manner, “Open, your, legs, now!”

Vita moved her legs apart and felt the other woman’s knee push between them and a thigh press against her mound. She shivered.
Deirdre’s eyes widened and she smiled. She leaned in and kissed Vita, stroking one breast as she held the other woman’s head with her other hand. Then Vita felt a hand lift the fabric of her skirt and fingers slide down her bare tummy into her knickers. She felt her labia parted expertly and a finger caress her hardened clit. She moaned and pulled back a little, trying to make sense of the intense and conflicting feelings she was experiencing. Deirdre pressed her hand deeper, Vita felt fingers penetrate her vagina and curve to push her G-spot. She shuddered, more deeply this time as she felt the wetness.
Vita wanted to get away but found herself incapable of movement, she couldn’t understand why her body was reacting, she was hetero, wasn’t she?

Deidre removed her fingers and whispered, “You don’t want me to stop, do you!” Vita shuddered and moaned, realising in that moment that her colleague was right.

She closed her eyes as Deirdre pushed her skirt up to her waist, pulled down her knickers and slipped fingers back between her labia.
Her eyes sprang open as she felt pressure on her crotch. Looking down she saw her colleague’s head on her lap and felt something warm and slippery invade her; caressing, swirling, flicking and pressing, over her clit and into her vagina. She couldn’t help herself, she arched her hips, let her head drop back and spread her legs as wide as they’d go. Deidre held the other woman’s hips as her mouth invaded, explored and teased. Vita panted as she became more and more excited by the stimulation.

Suddenly the sensation ceased and she groaned at the loss. She saw Deirdre looking up at her, the other woman ran a finger round her mouth and sucked her fingers. “Mmmm, delicious,” she murmured, “you want to cum, don’t you!” she added. Vita experienced a huge shudder, she’d never had such an intense experience before. Deidre laughed and bent her head once more. She thrust her fingers deep inside Vita as her tongue and teeth worked on the other’s woman clit.
The world exploded for Vita, a Mexican wave of vaginal convulsions spread outward and her whole body shook, she heard guttural moans and as the orgasm subsided realised it was her making those animalistic noises.
Dierdre had not wanted anything in return and Vita was glad to escape from her office to the Ladies loo, where she sat and mopped herself. In the years that followed Vita wondered what would have happened if Deidre had insisted on a return bout. She had buried her feelings, anxious that she might not be able to stop if she’d gone down that road. She had rationalised those feelings by telling herself that heterosexual relationships were problematic enough without fancying her close colleagues.
Even so she’d had lurid, sweaty dreams in which she’d been chased by Deidre, whose figure, in these dreams, bore a striking resemblance to Clarece. These encounters usually involved being caught and forced to perform oral sex on her captor. Many times she awoke in the throes of an orgasm, feeling elated and guilty at the same time.

Vita had never shared her guilty thoughts or anxieties with anyone, least of all Clarece. She avoided Deirdre like the plague. She had persuaded herself it was the hormone highs associated with ovulation, once she went on the pill they seemed to subside, much to her relief. She didn’t want to ‘jump on’ Clarece. Even now though the encounter triggered a response deep inside her, a little shudder…..

Movement in the trees lining the water brought her back to the present, a red Macaw fluttered down to the small strip of sand. Manuel signalled and the two canoes moved towards the little beach. “We camp here, signora” he shouted across to her. She looked back at the beach and this time saw a track leading through a gap in the trees.

The canoe swayed violently and she looked around at Manuel. He was yelling in Portugese and pointing at the water. He grabbed a paddle and brought it down on something just under the surface. She held onto the sides of the canoe and watched in horror as huge tentacles whipped back and forth picking up and submerging all the men in both craft. The water boiled around both vessels and as she looked it turned from brown to red as the blood from the bodies rose to the surface.
She screamed and screamed and shut her eyes, this was the end, she was convinced she would be next.

Through all this she thought she saw Clarece, but that couldn’t be, why would she be standing on the beach next to another woman, also naked?

Last edited by Collette23 : 09-24-2012 at 09:14 AM.
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Old 11-10-2012, 12:29 PM   #7
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It is amazing how many thoughts can flash through one’s mind in a fraction of a second. For Clarece, it seemed as though an entire story was being played in, what her geeky Star Trek loving self could only describe as the Holodeck in her brain. As she stood there and stared at Vita in the approaching boat, she prayed that Vita would be killed, rather than fall victim to the same fate that she had fallen victim to. She didn’t see V as the submissive type. Clarece was quite sure that coming under the spell of the Species when she first touched anyone of their hands would be torture for Vita. The Directives, as she understood them to be called, would be instantly transferred into her mind during that intense, instant orgasm. That process, in and of itself, could kill V. Submission, that couldn't be in Vita’s vocabulary, could it? She didn’t know her friend to be that way. She always was the tough one who looked out for her. Yet, as Clarece thought of that word, “submission,” she squirmed and felt relaxed. Yes, submission…

She turned to Tarsia who smiled at her. No, fuck! I…can’t submit. V, help! She screamed in silence. She needed V to be here for her again. If anyone could save them both, it was V. If only V knew how much Clarece loved her. Yes, she loved her, didn’t she? Again, in a fraction of a fraction of a second the entire story played out in her mind. If only V knew why Clarece flipped out the day the tribeswoman destroyed her favorite bra. It wasn’t the fact that it was a custom design, made in Italy. It so happened that was the bra that Clarece wore the first night she had a truly intense sexual fantasy about V. It was what she wore to work the day she and V spent 9 hours squeezed together in a tiny office at the Institute, working on piecing together a work that they were both authoring about another yet undiscovered tribe in the Amazon. Clarece’s mind was not on her work though. For whatever reason, that was the day she “noticed” V. She looked into her eyes and saw far beyond her pupils. She saw her mind, her spirit, her soul, and her sexual aura. She smiled nervously and giggled all day. Her behavior was obviously odd and several times she had to deflect questions from V such as “what’s gotten into you today?” She played it off, “Oh, I’m just in a good mood about getting this paper ready for publication.” This wasn’t unusual for Clarece to be giddy about her research. Still, she wasn’t giddy about that. She was giddy over V.

Despite being within a foot or two of each other all day, neither ever touched the other’s hand, “accidentally” brushed the other’s bum or breast, or even bumped at the waist. All day, Clarece’s mind wandered into a sexual fantasy land. She lacked the courage to act on it though. She rushed home, unwisely though, for if she had asked V to celebrate the completion of their work with a drink that evening, things might have gone just as she imagined them. Still, she was naïve in the ways of dating and seducing a woman.

She rushed home to satisfy herself. She threw her leather briefcase to onto the micro suede couch, pulling her plain white blouse apart so quickly two of the buttons popped off and shot across the room. She would look for them another time. Slipping her gray slacks off to the floor, she ran across the plush carpet to her bedroom. Standing in front of the full length mirror on the closet door, she stared at herself just for a moment. She wasn’t so much turned on by her own body, but she was aroused by the sight of how she wanted to present herself to V. She smiled as she admired the way her silk black high-cut panties hugged her rather wide hips. Her blonde curls peaking through one side. It was evident that she had been moist for much of the latter half of the day.

Clarece stared at her favorite bra. The price was well worth it. If only V could see her now. Still, she couldn’t possibly actually make such a thing happen, could she? V was clearly straight. Clarece shrugged as the intricate black lace of the bra tried to conceal her nipples who would have nothing of any attempt to hide their arousal. If possible, they were harder than they had ever been. Clarece closed her eyes and let out a soft whimper as she felt the pleasure of the fabric slide over each nipple. As she closed her eyes, she saw V in her mind. The beautiful redhead in all of her fair skinned beauty. She was wearing a matching bra. The same in every way down to each thread. “Mmmmph.” Clarece moaned as she imagined V walking up being her in the mirror. She opened her eyes and with all of her might, willed V to be there. Clarece looked in the mirror, and with her vivid imagination, felt V’s hands slide behind her and cup her breasts. She heard her whisper how she admired her taste in undergarments. Clarece turned and looked to her perfectly made bed, the lavender quilt with white embroidered flowers lacking any wrinkle or sign of imperfection. She smiled and looked back to the mirror where V seemed to reappear standing behind her. She wouldn’t need the bed tonight. Clarece slowly sat down on the soft carpet of her bedroom floor, imagining V settling down with her. She then leaned back, imagining V holding her, though, the reality was that no one was behind her to hold her up. That was ok though. She simply let her nearly naked body fall to her back. Still, she was captivated by her image in the mirror; dreaming of V seeing her this way. Clarece bent her knees and parted her thighs. Revealing the creases where her inner thigh met her mound. She slid a finger beneath her black lace and teased her throbbing clit.

Clarece closed her eyes and visualized V. Now, she was on all fours on top of her. Perhaps, yes, perhaps she would be kissing and nibbling her neck now. Clarece’s body shivered at such a thought. It wouldn’t be long now. She could often masturbate for an hour or two before climaxing. Tonight was different. It was V after all. It was, perhaps, the first time she had had such an intense fantasy about a woman. As she slipped a second finger between her lips, sliding them both deep, past her labia, her muscles tensed. She opened her eyes and saw her own thighs tremble as she gazed at her reflection. “Fuck, I’m going to cum.” She had to say it out loud as if to tell herself it was ok. It was time. “God, you’re hot.” She told herself as she stared at her thighs as they jiggled. She admired the way the cups of her bra form mountains of lace covering the flesh of her mammaries. She surprised herself, but she was aroused in so many ways. She never let herself think she could be sexy and attractive to anyone, let alone another woman. “Oh fuck, so sexy.” She told herself again. She wasn’t being conceited. In her mind, V was saying it. “Yes, V!” She looked down at her body as it started to tremble. She screamed, “You’re sooo fucking hot, cum for me Clarece! Yes, V, I’ll cum for you. Vita!!!” Her eyes rolled back as her body quivered. A puddle of moisture spread over her panties, spreading to any cloth that wasn’t already soaked with her juices. In her mind, she heard V speak such beautiful words. She came for her. Her body quivering and spasming like never before.

It all happened in a fraction of a fraction of a second in her mind. A memory. Clarece looked as the boat approached and she could see into Vita’s eyes. She smiled as she looked upon the woman she loved and wanted more than anyone. She turned to Tarsia as the other naked alien in disguise reached out her hand, extending a welcome to V, offering to help her out of the boat. V, help me! Don’t take her hand…take mine. Clarece suddenly reached out her own hand and smiled warmly at V. The alien energy ran through her and would undoubtedly send the Directives into her friend, but it would be her touch, not Tarsia’s.

“Hello, dear friend. Welcome. Please, let me help you up.” Submit!
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