Chapter 7

Stan looked pleased at the transformation in his patient, and he openly admitted to himself that it was just plain old curiosity as opposed to professional interest that prompted him to have Helen describe the lewd events of the previous evening in detail.

"It felt pretty good huh?" he asked.

Helen was effusive. "Good wasn't the word for it!!

"Oh? What happened next?"

"Well, it was the funniest thing, Stan. He just rested a while afterward. You know, after I'd cum and all, and then he did it again!"

"Oh?" Stan the analyst raised his eyebrows

"And again."

"Oh, I see. He was uh, something of a specialist?"

"Yes, it was all he wanted to do. I ready didn't mind though, you know, somehow, I was less unfaithful that way!"

"I see!" Stan tried to visualize his pretty patient, lying fully clothed, except for her panties, on the bachelor's rug. She would have a trim blonde pussy, he figured, one that any man would like to luck! However, Stan was a little worried about Helen's reaction. She was far too elated about her defiant action, far too "up". After this period, Stan bet to himself that there would be a corresponding "low". He would be waiting for it when it came. This would be the moment when he would have the most to say to the pretty blonde scientist's wife. Wonder what that husband of hers is up to? he thought. What a shame that Adam Randolph wasn't enjoying the bountiful attributes of his wife. Maybe the old boy did have something on the side as Helen often mentioned. Maybe so, maybe not. Stan thought that probably it was a question of total lack of communication between husband and wife. He'd seen the same thing many, many times, and knew how easy it was to fall into the trap after several years of marriage. People tended to lose sight of the true personalities of the people they were married to; seeing them merely as symbols. Either symbols of their own lack of freedom, or other such false generalities.

He sighed loudly and thought of his own wife who was taking courses at the New School. She was his second wife, and Stan deplored the fact that just because he knew all these things, he was unable to put them to complete advantage in his own life.

"What's the matter with you? Aren't you happy for me?" Helen sat up and turned around to look at her analyst. "Or would you rather see me unhappy! Maybe you're thinking I won't be needing you anymore, huh? Maybe you're thinking you're going to lose all the money I keep pouring into you!"

"That seems rather unkind, Helen," Stan replied evenly. He was bored. They all usually got to this stage at one point or another. "Especially since you were just thanking me a moment ago and telling me that I was the one responsible for your great happiness. Your new freedom!"

"Oh!" Helen let herself fall back down to the couch. "I'm sorry, Stan. I just get confused sometimes. I guess you're right. I'm sorry."

"Well, time's up anyway," Stan said. Thank God, he was dying to take a leak. "See you in two weeks unless you have something special you want to talk to me about.

"In two weeks?!!"

"Yes, don't you remember? I told you I was going away on a short vacation. Up to Vermont. Skiing!"

Helen looked thunder-struck. She'd completely forgotten that he'd mentioned this to her some time ago. How could he go away and leave her!? What right did he have to go away?

"Of course, you can always call my service. They'll know how to reach me in any emergency." I just know the crazy bitch s going to call! I just know she's going to have a crisis while we're up there!

Dr. Stanley Bederbeck guided his still stunned patient gently to the door. "You enjoy this new freedom of yours, Helen," he told her. "It's about time you have a little fun, don't you think?"

Maybe that would get her through his vacation, he thought. But somehow he knew it wouldn't really be enough. Helen had a lot to go through yet, before she would be truly free!

In celebration of her rebirth as a desirable female, Helen went right out and bought herself a new dress, new shoes and a new pocketbook. The shoes were a bright green. "Outrageous!" the shoe-clerk had said. "But terrific!"

"It's the now look!" the clerk added as Helen looked dubiously at the shoes which seemed to make her feet look twice as large as they already were. The ultra-high heel and the glistening green platform under the sole were, she decided, truly outrageous. Nevertheless, as a sigh of her new freedom, she bought them, knowing that her husband would hate them! So what! she said to herself. "I'll wear anything I choose!"

The dress was very much like a dress that Helen would have bought before, but it was much more daring in that it had an extremely low plunging neckline. This showed off the ample curves of her creamy white breasts however, and she was quite pleased when a male employee as the store whistled loudly at seeing her in it.

All in all, Helen felt like a totally new woman as, wearing her new outfit, she took the elevator downstairs and went to the super-market on the corner. The manager turned and looked at her with a definite leer before recognizing that she was Mrs. Adam Randolph. Helen felt as though she were walking on a cloud. Tomorrow she'd get her hair done a tone lighter too. Why not? She'd always wanted to. As she walked down the aisles that were stocked with food and grocery products, the elated wife smiled. She just couldn't help it. She pushed her cart in front of her in time to the piped in music that flooded the store with a false sense of well-being. Grocery boys doing the shelves paused in their work to watch her go by, and she could feel their approving glances. Bit by bit the attractive woman's shopping cart filled to the brim, and she could barely manage to push it to the check- out counter. She'd bought all the goodies she could possibly want for awhile, from frozen crepe suzettes, to frogs legs and Giant crab claws, Cornish game hens, a frozen pumpkin pie, two quarts of Breyers ice-cream, peach and chocolate her very favorite flavors. There wasn't anything that she'd put aside, saying she couldn't afford it, because obviously she could afford it, and even if she didn't happen to have enough money in her checking account, her revolving credit system would pay the overdraft. Life could be beautiful after all. She had only to enjoy, enjoy!

"Deliver please!" she said cheerfully, after writing out an approved check for $35.00. She received thirty-five cents change which she tossed into her new purse before heading out the door. She would go home and wait for the packages to arrive. Maybe she would even receive a telephone call from Andre! That would be nice. It would be lovely to take a cab downtown, wearing her new clothes, go to his apartment and have a drink, and then have him make wonderful oral love to her just the way he'd done before.

As she walked back to the nearby apartment building, Helen felt the familiar tingling in her loins, reminding her of the enjoyment she'd had with the handsome Frenchman. She could still feel his wetly licking tongue down there, tickling and nudging and making her cum again and again! In the elevator, Helen surreptitiously pressed her thighs together, feeling the increased sensations of her hotly aroused vagina and loving the idea of her own sensuality. She couldn't wait to snub her husband again tonight. The cold heartless bastard!

Adam Randolph considered himself a very patient man, but he was tired of waiting for the girl behind the underground newspaper's desk to get to him. He was placing another advertisement, and he realized that his actual presence at the office of the newspaper was something of a special event. "Usually no one ever comes!" the girl said, looking at him curiously. "Everyone does it by mail!"

"Well I haven't got time to do it by mail!" Adam snapped. "I'm doing important scientific researches!"

Adam grew furious as the girl stifled a snigger and gave him an order blank.

Trying to control himself, he wrote out the newest ads that would be necessary for his work, counted out the money and stormed out of the place. On the street once more, Adam pulled his coat around him and headed for the subway. It was one short stop to his house now, although he'd made a long trip down from the university. He was looking forward to getting home tonight for some reason. There was no one expected that evening at the "lab" so he was free comparatively early. Perhaps Helen would have some dinner ready.

The subway ride was as unpleasant as usual, no more or less so, but Adam had conditioned himself to the smells, the snarls, and the glowers of the other riders. He refused to pay the new high cab fares, even if the drivers were being more polite these days!

It would be good to see Helen again, the scientist thought as he gazed at his own blurred reflection in the window of the train. He was hanging by a strap, swaying back and forth in more or less the same rhythm as his fellow travelers. He hadn't seen Helen in days now. Well, he'd seen a lump in the living room sofa. But that was all. Helen refused to sleep in the same bed with him since he'd so brutally raped her anally several days before. He didn't blame her really, and yet there was something infuriating about the gesture. He wanted to force her to come back and sleep in the bed with him. Perhaps this evening they could discuss it. Perhaps tonight, he would even give her a taste of that romance she was always looking for.

Things were going well at the "lab". Adam felt more relaxed about the entire project now that it had gotten in full swing so to speak. His researches had given in invaluable information about the various reactions in human beings to sexual stimuli. He was sure that when his book was published, his true genius would be recognized by the world.

"Helen? Helen?" Adam called out as soon as he let himself into the apartment. There was no answer. He hung up his coat and hat and went straight to the kitchen. Usually he had something at the coffee shop where Susi worked, but now it was getting uncomfortable going in there. She was always pestering him to let her come by the lab. He'd given in once or twice and let her have a work-out on the machine in the afternoon between his classes. But as far as his research was concerned, he had no more to learn from Susi. Better to eat elsewhere for awhile or to eat at home.

Adam looked at the stove. Nothing at all cooking on it. Just the spotless white of the metal with the black grids. No good smell of soup or perhaps a roast. How long had it been, he wondered, since Helen had cooked him dinner? He supposed he couldn't really blame her, since he never came home at a decent eating hour. But somehow he did blame her! The scientist moved to the refrigerator and opened the door. There to his amazement' he saw that it was filled to overflowing with gourmet food items. The large freezer compartment was stuffed with things like frozen pizza, cream puffs, chocolate eclairs, Chinese spare-ribs, and spinach souffle. In the refrigerator itself was a hodge-podge of expensive meat cuts, out of season fruits and vegetables, milk and cream, red, white and rose wines as well as two bottles of imported champagne.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Adam had never seen so much food in the house. Usually he cautioned his wife against getting too much at a time since they weren't generally big eaters and he was often away anyway. She'd always shown good judgment about such matters before. But what had gotten into her now?

Puzzled, Adam closed the refrigerator door after taking out a Stouffer's frozen chicken in wine sauce. He turned on the oven and put the light aluminum package in. Then he went through all the rooms looking for his wife, but she was nowhere to be found. Returning to his study, Adam sat down to wait for the frozen dinner to be ready, and for Helen to return.

When finally he heard a click in the lock, Adam could feel a definite change in his attitude toward his wife. "Where has she been!" he wondered, perhaps for the first time.

He stood up from his desk and went out to the hall. Helen was trying to close the door behind her and was having difficulty due to her many packages. She had already put the flowers down on the hall table and was pushing the door dosed with her foot while clasping the bakery items and the magazines.

"Helen!"

Surprised, she looked up to see that her husband was standing watching her with a mixture of curiosity and something else she could not quite read.

"Yes?" the young wife said calmly, composing herself enough to remember just how she wanted to treat her husband. She busily gathered up the flowers and made her way into the living room with them. Then she took the bakery packages into the kitchen. She'd gotten some of that wonderful German butter cake, and some coconut cream pie.

Helen was aware of the fact that her husband was following her from room to room, and she tried to act as if she were completely unaware of his presence.

It wasn't until she had taken off the short little jacket that turned her new dress into a two-piece suit and had begun to arrange the tulips and roses she'd bought at the corner in vases that Adam hit the ceiling.

"WHAT IS THAT DRESS YOU'RE WEARING?" he screamed, noting that his wife's lushly swaying breasts almost fell out as she bent over a vase. "AND THOSE SHOES?" he was seeing them for the first time. "Good God, you look like something from outer space!" he cried, his face turning purplish with rage. "AND WHAT IS ALL THIS CRAP AROUND? ALL THAT JUNK IN THE ICE-BOX?"

"Refrigerator!" Helen correctly, coldly, even though she could feel her eyes beginning to mist up and her hands beginning to shake as she finished her arrangement of flowers. "Ice-box is so old fashioned!"

"HAVE YOU GONE CRAZY? What about the money? I'm not a millionaire you know!"

"I'm getting a job. I'll pay for everything myself," Helen said, her lower lip trembling. She left the living room hurriedly, and Adam followed close on her heels,

"Stop moving! Stop and talk to me!" he cried, waving his arms about.

"Why should I stop moving? Why should I talk to you when you never talk to me?" Helen said, tight-lipped. And she kept on moving, going to the dresser, sitting down, easing off her shoes, which caused her feet to ache a bit.

"All you do is hurt me!" she declared with a finality that left Adam speechless. Wordlessly, he turned and left the room. A smell of burning chicken filled the apartment. Furious with Helen and with himself, Adam rushed into the kitchen and turned off the stove. Then he got his coat and hat and stormed angrily out of the house.

All the way uptown on the subway, Adam thought about his wife's phrase, "All you do is hurt me... !" But he couldn't say just why the accusing words made such an impact on him, why they made his normally ordered mind stop working and his heart start to beating wildly.

The pillow case was soaked with tears as Helen lifted her head. Her eyes were so swollen that she could hardly see. She rose and went to the bathroom to put a cold washcloth over them. Crying was making her sick inside. Adam had gone and would not be back that night, she knew. Guilt permeated her like the sick feeling of all that crying. The true proportions of her shameful actions came to her in a new light. She'd been unfaithful! She'd answered an ad and gone to a perfect stranger's apartment where she'd allowed him to perform a terribly lewd act upon her. Oh God, she'd even willingly spread her legs and loved every obscene second of it as he licked her to orgasm!

Helen writhed upon the bed as though she were in actual pain.

Oh my God, how could I have ever? How could I think that such a thing would solve my problems!

"Oh Adam, how can you ever forgive me?" Helen wailed on into the night, until, around 3:00 AM she called Stan Bederbeck's number and hysterically instructed his answering service to get the message to him that she had to have help and fast!

It was almost 6:00AM before Stan hung up the phone beside the bed he shared with his wife at the ski resort.

"Whew!" The psychiatrist slumped down in the bed, sensing that his wife was still awake beside him. Although she was absolutely motionless he knew that he was in double trouble. His wife was going to give him a hard time because Helen had given him a hard time on the telephone. Not for the first time, Stan considered going into some other business. Well, at least he'd managed to calm Helen Randolph down. But he wasn't at all sure that the advice he'd given her had been correct. Perhaps he'd just told her that to get her off the phone so he could go back to sleep. On the other hand, he might have said the same thing under other circumstances. He wasn't sure.

"A hair of the dog, Helen," he'd said. "Go out and give yourself something to really feel guilty about. Then you'll know what real guilt is! Then we can deal with it on its own terms."

Stan turned out the light and snuggled up to his wife. He wasn't at all surprised when she moved a little bit farther away from him. He sighed and went back to sleep.

The next afternoon Helen was feeling a bit better. She'd slept some, and somehow the conversation with the psychiatrist had seemed to sort her feelings out. She knew just what she would do today. Adam had not returned at all, and in the bright light of day this one face seemed unforgivable. She would, just as Stan had suggested, come to terms with her own guilt! Helen began by dialing the number she'd found in the newspaper. It was a bit forward to call, but seeing Andre again might straighten her out, bring back the confidence she'd felt for so brief a time!

Wearing her yellow culotte nightgown, the disturbed blonde wife sat at the edge of her bed and dialed. To her surprise, the first ring was interrupted by a recording. "I'm sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service. If you wish more information, kindly remain on the line and an operator will help you." Helen was shaking by the time an operator came on. "Why is this number out of service?" she inquired, the familiar tears returning.

"Don't know. Just a moment. Oh, yes. I see."

"What? what do you see?" Helen felt hysteria mounting again.

"The number has been changed."

"Oh what's the new number? " Helen felt momentarily relieved.

"I'm sorry it's an unlisted number, and we are not allowed to give it out."

"NO!" Helen slammed down the telephone. "Now get hold of yourself!" she said out loud as she ran into the bathroom, trying to stave off her feelings of utter helplessness, of utter futility by running cold water and splashing it onto her face. Since that worked out so well, why not answer another ad? she thought. Hurriedly getting dressed, Helen went outside to the newspaper stand at the far corner near the bus-stop. Morty sold everything from the Times, to the more adventuresome papers. Helen didn't care that Morty seemed amused when she bought the underground paper. She felt that she no longer cared what anyone thought of her. Her life was her own, and somehow she had to salvage it!

Back in her living room and breathless, Helen sat down without taking off her coat. Rapidly, she scanned the advertisements to see if Andre's was there again. But she didn't see anything that she thought might be his. Heart fluttering, she finally came to one which sounded as though she might be able to answer it.

Responsible researcher and assistants seek intelligent woman for interesting conversation, mutual enjoyment. Object serious research. Apply between 7PM and 9PM, Mon-Sat., 933 West ll9th Street, Apt 24.

How nice it sounded. It seemed as though this advertisement might bring her just what she was looking for. The chance to be treated like a real human being. From the sound of it, it also seemed as though she might be fable to do some sort of interesting work. She might meet someone who could look upon her as a person, rather than a nonentity like her husband did! To him she was just someone to boss around. Someone who lived in the same house, and whom he spoke to when he felt like it! It was not purely a sexual thing, Helen reasoned. She just needed to have her confidence bolstered, to feel like a human being again, instead of just Dr. Adam Randolph's unloved wife!

"You boys can wait in here or I'll call you when the first subject comes," Adam said. He was bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. For the first time since having begun the experiments, he felt a definite lack of enthusiasm. He and Helen had had fights in the past, but he'd never spent a night away from home before. Not a night when he and Helen were mad at each other anyway. He might even have called off the evening's experiments had it not been for the number of people involved. Once more he had called upon the services of the young college students who lived downstairs. They were more than willing to help out, and had come to regard the professor with a new respect that far outdistanced his former reputation. The five of them were pledged to secrecy, however, a secrecy which they maintained, since it was entirely to their own benefit. Three were present tonight, the other two having gone home for the weekend,

As one of the students put it to the others while they were sitting around drinking beer in the "living room" of the lab, "it's all the trouble having to take 'em out and stuff, that makes it a drag. I mean, shit, nooky is nooky, right? This way we get lots more time to study for the upcoming exams, without having to go without getting our nuts off!"

"You said it, Hank. Sure beats finger-fucking in the park to all hell!" Ben Starker replied. He was reading a copy of one of the magazines that the professor had thoughtfully provided for them.

"We'll wait, professor. Just send her on in, we'll take care of the whole thing just fine!" Roger English spoke for the group. Being a straight "A" student, a Rhodes Scholar, and a genuine 180/I.Q. genius, Roger often was the natural leader of any group in which he found himself.

Adam closed the door and went into the lab. He sat at his control table and laid his head on his arms. He felt a definite tightness in his throat and chest, and a heaviness in his heart. He flicked the intercommunication button.

"When the bell rings, will one of you boys get it please. I prefer to say in the control room this evening."

"Sure thing, Prof!" Roger replied.

The boys were in the middle of a heavy game of crazy-eights when the bell rang. Roger, who was tall and angular, put down his cards and went to answer it. The professor had clued them in to all the details of the experiment, and each boy felt confident of carrying out the researches to perfection.

Before he left the living room, Roger smiled and winked at the other boys. "I'll bring you back a pretty one!" he said.

"She'd better be!

"Yeah!"

Helen stood poised to run at the slightest provocation, but the young boy who opened the door was obviously harmless, simply a college student like many others she'd seen, that she remained standing there in her green ultra-high heels with platform soles and her low-cut dress with the matching coat.

"Is it about the advertisement?" Roger smiled his most boyishly charming smile, the one he used for his mother, some teachers, his minister, and all the other relatives at home.

"Uh, yes. It is. Is this where the research is being done?"

"That's correct. Won't you come right in?" Roger bowed low and stood aside.

"Well, I don't know. I..."

"The professor is in the other room. He'll he out later on. In the meanwhile we can make you comfortable inside," Roger said. He was trying not to seem too anxious. But, oh man, wait until those other jokers got a look at this one. She was some looker. A gorgeous, hot-blooded blonde was just his idea of a nice way to spend the evening! Even if he did have to share her with his buddies!

Professors Helen was thinking. That would show Adam. What if she could set up a friendship, dare she think "relationship", with someone who was on Adam's level, a peer? That would show him! Andre was something else, hardly an intellectual even though he read a lot of books. But a professor, now this was beginning to sound more like it!

"All right," she said shyly, stepping inside.

"Right this way!" Roger led the way down the hall, and opened the door to the living room.

"Well, heeeelloooo!" Hank said standing up. Already he could feel himself getting a hardon just as the sight of the sensuously ripened blonde in the green "fuck-me" shoes.

"Hi there!" Ben Starker said, beaming front ear to ear. The football coach had said no sex, but what did he know? If Joe Namath and those guys could do it, why couldn't he? Especially with a pretty full-titted, big-assed pussy like this!

Helen looked at the young college boys. "Good-evening," she said pleasantly. She was a little bit nervous about the brazen way the boys were looking at her, but then she told herself that that was why she'd bought this new outfit, wasn't it! She wanted to be looked at, to be appreciated, after all! She was overly aware of the door closing behind her with a click, as though it was automatically locking, but she told herself that that was ridiculous. Quickly, she scanned the room. The nervous scientist's wife would have sat down, bet there were no chairs, only pillows and the big bed where the young men seemed to be playing cards.

"Oh, did I interrupt your game?" she asked, searching for some way to break the heavy silence that fell over the room. This was ridiculous! Why was she so nervous. She'd probably feel better when this professor they were talking about put in an appearance, and no doubt there were other people involved too, people more her own age.

"Not at all!" Roger replied.

"Yeah, you're our game!" Hank leered.

Ben nudged him sharply.

"I beg your pardon?" Helen asked her eyebrows raising. How rude this boy was. How could anyone responsible have let him be here doing "intelligent" research.

"Never mind, ma'am. Don't mind Hank," Roger replied. "He's a bit crude sometimes, but he has a good heart.

"And a good cock too! Nice and hard!"

In spite of themselves, both Roger and Ben laughed.

Helen stepped back in alarm. She backed toward the door.

"What is this?" she demanded. "Where's the professor running the research project?"

"Oh he'll show up sooner or later," Hank said. "He always does. Sometimes he even takes a piece of the action!"

"What? What?" Helen tried The door knob behind her, and became hysterical when she could not open it.

"Don't worry, lady," Roger said, trying to calm her." It'll be all right. You must have expected a little adventure-- companionship--love! when you answered the ad! Didn't you?"

"No! No! Of course, not. No!" Helen would deny to the end that she was seeking adventure, companionship, friendship, maybe love. She would deny everything to the end if necessary.

Inside his adjoining control room, Adam flicked off the intercom. He just couldn't listen to the beginning of the whole thing, and his splitting headache and generally depressed state caused him to keep his head on his arms, knowing that the boys would do all right without any guidance from him. The instruments would be attached and his recording devises would take over. No need for him to watch every detail. He was in no mood for it.

Meanwhile in the living room, Hank grew. annoyed with Helen's carrying on.

"Hey, cut the crap! Anybody that reads junky paper and answers an ad, knows what's happening!"

"Not necessarily," Roger interjected, "however, I am inclined to believe that the possibility of total innocence under the circumstances is rather dim."

"Oh my God, you're all maniacs!" Helen exclaimed at the top of her lungs.

"If you mean we're all students at the university, then you're right there!" Ben said.

"Hey, maybe she wants some booze. Want a drink to make you feel better?" Ben asked, reaching for the flask that the boys had been taking slugs from.

"We're not going to do anything to hurt you, Miss," Roger said pleasantly. "You might as well calm down. As I said, the professor will be in shortly, and meanwhile, you can be uh, entertained by us! It's all a part of the experiment, you see."

Helen tried to see. She wanted desperately to understand, and to see the whole thin in some light other than the sinister one that covered the entire difficulty in which she found herself.

Ben passed the flask to Roger, who offered it to Helen.

Tentatively, her features ash white, Helen took the flask and sniffed it.

"Old Tennis Shoes bourbon," Ben said proudly. "Nothing but the best."

"I'll just have a taste," Helen said, gulping at the silver nozzle. The warm liquid seemed to heal the raw terror inside her and she took more.

"Drink it all if you want. We can go more!"

She did, gulping several swallows of the warm bourbon which did not burn, but slid smoothly down her throat.

"Isn't that better now?" Roger took her by the arm and led the young blonde wife toward the bed. "Come sit down," he said, seeing that Helen was nervously coming along with him. "There, don't be upset. We're just here to help science!" His fingers were moving, caressing her arm as he helped her across the room. At first Helen felt her flesh crawl at this strange young man's touch as she again searched her brain for words that might get them to release her from the room. Was she really a prisoner, or was she just imagining the worst? She couldn't tell. Fantasy had played such a large part in the 35-year-old blonde's life, that now she did not know whether she could trust her own instincts. But then a repulsively shocking thing occurred, a strange, indescribable phenomenon sent a million pin pricks of erotically tingling sensation throughout her being. At the same time, she reached the bed, and feeling dizzy, sat down upon it. Instantly, Hank moved forward and touched her warmly quivering breast with his hands, caressing its firm fullness.