Chapter 4

Jane pulled back from her revelry. That had been five years ago. In that time she had only taught a few of the skills to a few women. She had used some of the skills to coerce a very talented physics major with a flair for art into producing her own Rod of Sappho. Upon leaving California, she had left him in the hands of her counselor, who had taken five of the sessions with the rod. Five of the sessions would be plenty to insure the physics major lived a very happy existence. But Jane felt a pang in her heart over the damage she had done to both of them.

It was several hours before Susan's usual time of arrival. Jane wanted to be elsewhere when she arrived. She left a note and a thermos bottle full of lemonade on the porch table and headed out.

First she traveled to a nearby park. She had jogged often in the park, but it was too hot for that now. She took a leisurely walk as she let herself think back over the past four years:

The rod had taken her like a gentle lover. Each session filled her with more joy. Between times she worked on the translation.

Long before the sessions were completed she hand more knowledge about sex than any living person on earth. Some tools she tested on herself, others required a second person. She wanted to complete the sessions before she did that. On her off days sometimes she'd take a walk on the beach for a time contemplating what she was learning. There had to be at least a dozen ways to excite a nipple.

"Fourteen" the knowledge came unbidden to her.

Jane shivered in the overcast air. It was a gray day. But her countenance was cheerful. She had used several of the ways explained in the book upon herself. They worked! She hadn't known that a certain series of motions applied to a nipple could induce an orgasm, but she knew it very well now.

Some of the tools were like drugs that called to her. She only controlled the craving though the power she was receiving from the rod. Like the ancient drug of the gods -Nepenthe- the rod erased the sorrow of her heart. She could now freely probe the subject of the loss of her husband. She still retained the joy that they had shared, but the loss of that joy was being replaced by the power of the rod. In some ways it even felt like him when it was inside her.

Jane finished the translation the evening of her final session. She possessed all the knowledge that Sappho had recorded some two-thousand years before. She even had a good idea where her body was. She felt no compulsion to disturb it. Someday she may travel to the spot to pay homage to her though. Perhaps when she reconstructed the rod.

The twelfth session was like no other. Her body was lost in a fog of constant orgasm from the moment the rod entered her.

Jane could feel the spirits of every soul the rod or it's predecessors had touched. She shared the knowledge and rapture with a thousand women. Some of them quite young. Much too young compared to the mores of modern society.

The youngest of them had been but twelve when the rod had pierced her madenhead. But the rod had penetrated the bodies of younger still, from behind. But most of the girls were between fourteen and twenty.

The rod had never taken a maiden against her will. That was one of the things the power protected against.

Jane spent the entire night in the throws of a constant orgasm. Sharing the touch and emotions of those thousand women. Tears flowed from her eyes like rain. The bed was soaked with perspiration. If not for the noise of the ocean, a passerby might have been quite alarmed by the sounds coming from her house.

Any police investigating would have immediately called for the paramedics. They would have found a woman incoherent and locked in the throws of a constant orgasm; Jane's body quivering like gelatin, her hips thrusting wildly into the air, her nipples raw from her grabbing them, her skin raked with welts from her fingernails. Her hair matted and knotted. Tears pouring from her eyes. Animal sounds issuing from her raw throat and gasping breath. Her blood pressure more than a little alarming. They would have thought her in the midst of an epileptic seizure or a designer drug overdose or both.

The morning never came; Jane slept right through it.

About eleven or so she was prodded to remove the rod from her body, she did so incoherently. It was now an empty and lifeless vessel. Once again broken by her body contractions, but her repair job had been sufficient. A minor issue of blood coated a sharp edge, but the rod had served it's purpose.

Jane slept again.

In the late afternoon she forced herself to down a quart of orange juice and another half quart of water to replace the fluids she'd lost. She did so incoherently. Her body still quivering in random convulsions.

In the middle of the night she awoke and used the toilet, drank another quart of water and went back to bed. She hardly remembered doing it.

On the morning of the second day, she awoke around ten. The instant Jane opened her eyes she knew all was different. She was aware of every hair on her body. She could feel every scratch she had made on her skin, but they didn't hurt. They felt sensual. The cloth of her bed, now sticking to her back felt like the caress of a lover.

Jane rocked her legs over the edge of the bed and arose, the new High Priestess of the Power of Lesbos.

Jane glanced at her watch. About time to start back, she needed to make a stop for grocery's while she was out. But her thoughts drifted back again to the past.

Jane took a long hot bath to alleviate some of her injuries. Her internal abrasions from the sharp edges of the rod, the scratches on her skin, her raw nipples and even rawer clitoris and vulva. She had examined the discarded rod from where it lay when she removed it, casting it across the room. The archeologists would have killed her had they known. That mattered little to her. The rod was now a lifeless artifact. Even the traces of her glue job were nowhere in evidence. Perhaps they had been fused by some action that wasn't important. There was no trace of the tape she had used to bond the last slivers to the rod either, but it wasn't inside her, it was just gone. So were the slivers.

The rod was now neatly broken into three pieces. It was wrapped again in velvet and resided in her safe, along with the original plates and her translation. She would bind the translation herself. When the time came it would go back into the cavity along with the new rod she constructed, the original manuscript and probably a floppy disk. But Jane doubted that would ever happen, in today's world she would easily find a successor.

She lay back in the tub and tended to her physical wounds. There were no more mental wounds. She felt more content and relaxed about her destiny than she had ever known. There was a self-assuredness about her that would make presidents quiver should she choose to present it.

Jane made her way to the grocery store, she sauntered down the isles picking items at whim. She hadn't made Falafel for some time, so she got the ingredients. At the checkout she was a bit surprised to find she had a full basket of goods. The checker hardly noticed, he was enthralled by the stunning woman patiently waiting for him.

Her smile had warmed his soul.

Susan was a bit disappointed when she arrived at the corner with her friends. She looked over onto Jane's porch expecting to see her, wanting to see her really, but more than a little nervous. She had been very honest in what she had written in her notebook. It disturbed her a bit.

She saw the note leaning on the thermos bottle. She sat back with her friends to await their bus. She was blatantly aware of it every time one of them brushed her.

Seemingly overnight Susan had become a sensual being. Had she anything to compare it with, she would have realized that she was horny as hell!

From the moment her eyes had opened she had been aware of the fabric on her skin. She had been aware of every touch of her family before she headed out the door, aware of how her clothes felt on her young body. She felt sexy.

All day long Susan noted every body that touched her, was aware of how it made her feel.

Some of it she didn't like at all. Some of it made her uncomfortable as she hadn't expected to enjoy it. But she did.

Susan shied away from many of the touches that she wouldn't have noticed at all the day before.

At lunch Susan secluded herself and wrote what she had felt. It embarrassed and alarmed her. Some of the most sensual touches, in fact most, had come from girls and women teachers. She found herself recording her reactions instead of paying attention in her classes. Writing things that she never wanted another soul to know about her inner emotions. Knowing she was going to hand it to Jane when she saw her. Fearing that a teacher would take her notes and read them aloud to a class.

No teacher would have, not after reading a bit of it. Instead they would have sent her straight to a counselor and called her parents in concern.

Her friends bus arrived, one of her friends hugged her. Susan found herself hugging back and disengaged herself. Her friend hardly noticed. She waved to the rest and the bus pulled off.

Susan moved to the gate and did the trick to open it. Then she moved to the porch and read the note, clearly addressed to her.

"Susan: Help yourself to some lemonade. Gone shopping. Hope I get back in time, but if I don't have a great day tomorrow. Jane."

Susan smiled as she sat down. She poured herself some lemonade from the thermos. She hoped that Jane made it back too. For some reason she really liked the older woman. Overnight she had become a symbol in her life. Someone to emulate.

A goal to reach?

Susan didn't really know what she thought of Jane. But she instinctively trusted her. She took out her notebook and wrote about the contacts she had felt since her last writing.

A little while later, Jane's four wheel drive pulled into the side drive. Susan got up and waved. Jane waved back and climbed out, moving to the back of the vehicle.

"Hi" Susan called.

"Hi, Good to see you. I'll be right with you. I'm afraid I got more groceries than I intended." Jane called back.

"Let me help." Susan said, bounding off the porch and running to the back of the car.

"Thanks. That's nice of you." Jane responded, grinning at the girl.

Susan felt herself flush. She grabbed Several of the bags, as many as she could carry. Jane gathered a full load, but kept her keys out. She unlocked the back door and guided Susan inside her kitchen, Susan's breath caught when she saw the elegance of it.

Jane chuckled and directed her to dump her load on the table. Susan complied, but her head was swinging wildly about to look at the kitchen and into the dinning room.

"Take a look around. I can get the rest, seeing as you carried so much last trip. I'll be right back." Jane chuckled, heading out the door.

Susan was spell bound. She hardly dared look around as Jane had given her reign to do. The place was downright elegant!

The kitchen was a masterpiece. It had a long deep counter holding various food processing gadgets. There was a large pedestal that contained a small sink, a chopping board and an inset smokeless grill. Stainless steel cookware hung from a valence above the pedestal and it all sparkled. There was a massive "Zero" refrigerator, a built in microwave and oven. There was a smooth glassed top range inset into the back counter. A three compartment sink, a dishwasher and lots of storage and room.

All the woodwork was a mix of white woods, with clear lacquer atop them. There were oak doors with Birds-eye maple trim. All the stiles and rails were birds-eye maple (had Susan known what stiles and rails were.) There were glassed front china cabinets that were lit internally and held elegant trimmed china like Susan had never dreamed existed. The kitchen table was smoked glass panels inset into woodwork that matched the kitchen. It stood atop a chrome steel base. The chairs were chrome reinforced backs and bases, trimmed with wood with padded seats and back of a soft -light- tan material; Buckskin. Susan hardly dared touch it.

Jane came in carrying the last of the groceries. She set them upon the table and surveyed the girl, she hadn't moved an inch. She was still looking around with her jaw agape.

"Sit down. We can talk while I put these things away." Jane said.

"This is great!" Susan managed to say, somehow finding herself in one of the seats that she hadn't dared touch a moment before.

Jane grinned at her.

"Yeah, I had fun with this." she said.

"It must have cost a fortune." Susan said, now watching Jane like a hawk.

"Not so much as you'd think. I did much of the work myself." Jane said, carting things to the refrigerator.

"You did this? Wow!" Susan said.

"A lot of it. Amazing what you can do once you set your mind to it." Jane said.

She couldn't help but be aware of Susan's gaze. She found herself flushing a bit in response.

"So how was your day? A little unusual, I'll wager." Jane chuckled.

Susan dropped her eyes and nodded.

"I had no idea that people touched me so much or what it meant to me ... I left my notebook out on the porch." she said, embarrassed.

"I guess that was kind of a dirty trick on my part. But I wanted you to understand." Jane said.

"Do you want me to get my notebook?" Susan asked, half out of her chair.

"In a bit. Something to drink?" Jane asked, still putting things away.

"The lemonade's out on the porch too." Susan said.

"It will keep. Unless that's what you'd like. Or perhaps a soda?" Jane asked.

"Diet Pepsi?" Susan asked, shyly.

"Something told me that might suit you." Jane chuckled, handing her a cold can and a glass she had held in the ice dispenser of her fridge door. It contained three perfect cubes.

"Thanks." Susan said. She almost felt an electric shock when Jane's hand brushed hers.

Jane did too. Her enhanced senses couldn't help but feel the girls heightened sensuality. It fairly oozed from the girl. Jane was borderline oozing herself.

She finished up putting the grocery's away while Susan carefully poured her soda into her glass, afraid of spilling a drop. Jane whisked by and dropped two coasters on the table.

Susan inhaled deeply at the after scent Jane left in the area. She couldn't pin it down, but she wanted some of that fragrance for herself. It stirred things inside her that she didn't understand.

"That's a nice outfit you have on. A bit different from your normal attire." Jane said, fixing herself a soda.

Susan blushed.

"I just felt like something different today ... It's really a lot cooler." she said.

"The air conditioning probably helps that too." Jane chuckled, sitting down.

"So how come you were sitting outside yesterday when it was so hot?" Susan asked.

"Because I wanted to meet you." Jane said, catching her eye.

"Why would you want to meet me?" Susan asked, blushing and looking at the floor.

"Oh, you just seemed different from the others. I thought you might be an interesting person to get to know." Jane said.

Susan looked at her a bit uncomfortable.

"I think I'd like that too." she stammered.

"Why don't you run get your book, and then we can talk about it." Jane said.

Susan nodded and headed for the back door.

"Just go through the living room. The front door is a lot shorter." Jane said.

Susan about faced and headed through the arch. Her step instantly slowed as she looked wildly around. She forced herself to find the front door, but her mouth was again open in awe.

She felt the wave of heat hit her as she went outside. She gathered up her books and the thermos and her glass, carefully carrying it back inside. Feeling the coolness strike her again. It helped her flushed condition. She felt a bit faint.

Jane took the thermos and glass from her and set them on the counter while Susan settled back into her seat.

"Your whole house is wonderful." Susan said.

"Thank you. Glad you like it. I don't get many visitors. I'll give you the grand tour some other time ... But now show me what you've written." Jane said, sliding back into her seat.

Susan seemed hesitant, but she felt driven as she shakily opened her notebook to the first entry and pushed it towards Jane.