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Review This Story || Author: Jethro Jodhpur

Neighborhood Nympho

Part 18

                                                          Neighborhood Nympho - Chapter 18




       To their credit, the corporation spared no expense in attempting to get the blue-eyed, blonde goddess back to her awesome physical self once more. They still had great plans for her future in the organization.  It was not to be; the damage to her insides was of such a nature that they best they could do were repair and rebuild the more obvious damaged areas. Charlie would never need to ever worry again about getting pregnant, that was utterly impossible as a result of the brutal treatment she endured from the sick six. As for her sexual urges, except for her snake-like tongue, that was moot. Once they had done as much as they could for her physical well being, they turned to the challenge associated with the sexual side of her psyche. Various tests were made and the results were mixed.




       She had partial sensitivity when it came to her erogenous zones.  Some were normal, others abnormally high and still others completely numb to sexual stimulation. It was as if some insane joker had randomly selected levels for each zone that were capricious at best. For example her nipples had utterly no feeling while those sections behind her knees and in her armpits were off scale. Her inner labia were slightly below normal, but the outer set was effectively dead. Her clitoris was a strange collection of dead and live areas, all very small and difficult to locate. Some of the live areas were on the surface, others buried beneath scar tissue and ineffective. The tremendous areas of scar tissue located along the length of her vagina prevented any general excitation. However there were small zones that had avoided severe abrasion, allowing most of them to react to sexual stimulation provided artificial means were employed to reach them.




       Charlie still managed to entice sex partners without any effort. The first wave were all male and soon backed away from the one they called "the ice maiden". Her oral skills had not deteriorated, but only blowjobs can soon get boring when the rest of her looks like a porn star but acts like a spinster.  They knew their hopes were futile when one of the interns managed to get his hands on a trial sample of an aphrodisiac that was supposed to turn corpses into raving sex maniacs. To guarantee success he injected it into Charlie's clitoris, giving small shots in widely spaced regions under the theory that sooner or later one would turn on her switch. He waited for almost an hour before launching his guided muscle that hit the target head-on. Charlie blinked and remained quiet despite his best efforts to arouse her. If he had access to her erogenous zone map, his chances might have been better, but he never got a second chance. The tape for that evening clearly showed the intern violating hospital policy as well as one of its more important patients. They found him a job working in a brothel located in India and he soon became very popular with the prostitutes, all male, who worked there.




       Charlie continued to be an enigma to the hospital staff. Now it was the female members of the staff that took their turn. There were a number of female doctors who had their own ideas about unlocking Charlie's sexuality, but all the standard approaches were dismal failures. You can imagine the frustration if you're a top notch doctor and you have just spent three hours trying every trick you have learned over the past twenty-two years, and your patient begins to nod off while you are giving her a tonguing that you learned in the wilds of Borneo when you spent three months being the sex slave of the tribal chief. The tattoo they burned into your flesh just a fraction of an inch from the opening to your still hot, wet and tight pussy has captured many victims of both sexes, but not this blonde-haired child with the vacant blue eyes.




       The only visceral response they could coax from her was strictly by accident. Two nurses had sent the better part of the graveyard shift working on Charlie's dry pussy with no success. These two lesbian lovers had been together for over ten years and they knew all the tricks in the standard and advanced repertoire. One finally got so frustrated that she gave Charlie a roundhouse wallop to the head while her lover was seeing just how far up the patient's cunt she could get her fist. To her amazement the patient's pussy clamped down hard on her arm, frightening her no end. The pair beat a quick retreat from the field of battle and spread the word about Charlie's reaction, without revealing the information about the blow to the head she had also been given.




       The tapes never lied, no matter what they recorded. This new information opened up a new approach to improving the patient's sexual response. The two nurses were encouraged to provide an encore performance, but alas it merely enhanced the already strong responses, but did little if anything for the ones that were very weak or totally inert. Just when the staff was ready to admit defeat and guarantee the end of a number of corporate careers, a junior member of the staff stepped forward with a radical idea. She had spent her last year under the wing, among other portions of his anatomy, of the most famous European researcher in the area of human synaptic responses. He had taught her plenty within and outside of his bedroom and she was an excellent student.




       She submitted her PhD thesis as well as two papers that had a very narrow audience to demonstrate her theory on this subject had been considered to be possible under certain circumstances. Based on her limited knowledge of the patient, there was a better than fifty-fifty chance that her approach might significantly improve Charlie's sex drive. There was a pitched battle on the subject by the committee, but when the dust settled, upper management decided to give her an opportunity, a very limited one at that, to demonstrate feasibility. Doctor Eliot was about to make or break her reputation at the hospital, but she was already becoming bored with her limited opportunities for advancement. She was young, attractive and good in bed, always willing to sleep with the right members of the staff and allow them to do things to her body that even her former mentor dared not suggest. The prospect of sooner or later having to allow her latest bedmate to watch her copulate with his trained dog made her stomach extremely queasy. Unless she had a breakthrough with this patient, she was doomed no matter what happened next.




       Dr. Eliot selected Charlie's ruined clitoris for the attempt to fully restore her sensitivity. The approach was to work with the areas that showed nervous system activity and enhance the fraction of synapses that were electrical in nature. This was accomplished by a two-step process employing saturation of the area with molecules that attracted potential electrical synapses and a subsequent reconfiguration that allowed them to become operational and permanent. Dr. Eliot was under the gun, but refused to be stampeded, knowing that this was would be her only chance at success. Despite the negative reaction of her colleagues to her work, she persisted and within ten days was able to demonstrate new activity in the surrounding areas of Charlie's clitoris that previously were totally passive. From that point on she could do no wrong, and within another month Charlie was fully functional when it came to sexual responsiveness. It turned out that a modified form of this technique also restored "dead" zones such as her labia, which in actuality still had potential by not enough synapses to display any significant neural response. What they didn't know was that Charlie also had a great deal of potential for further growth in her sexual capacity thanks to the added capability of this type of electrical synapse.




       While Charlie was being turned into the Bionic Punchboard, I was living high on the hog, except I was doing the porking. Teri and Traci were every man's dreams, but in my case they were real and fucked like bunnies. I was beginning to thank my wayward wife for all the training and conditioning she had given me when it came to sex. Those little fuck maniacs were insatiable and well on the way to doing me to death, when my good friends and neighbors, the Connors, entered the picture with their generous offer. They were willing to take the twins for a few evenings in order to give me a chance to recover and allow them to broaden the vistas of my twin charges. Being no fool I checked out their kind offer with the Tolliver clan and got their enthusiastic approval. It seems they were looking for more than I was providing, and they knew quite a bit about the Connors and the kind of activity that took place at their home on at least one night a week. I was devastated at their revelation, but secretly appreciated the assistance.




       That night they were staying home, which meant the Tolliver men were going to be kept mighty busy doing these teen punchboards in every hole. To date, for reasons I cannot fully fathom, their tight assholes had remained unspoiled by my hard cock despite their frequent invitations to enjoy the back door as well as the front. On the other hand I'd spanked those rounded cheeks until they were crimson on more than one occasion and the make-up sex afterwards usually was almost as good as what Charlie would provide on an average day or night. Perhaps the lengthy absence of Charlie from our marital bed was the cause for my reluctance to nail the assholes of the Tolliver twins. Thinking about my wandering wife started to depress me to the point that I decided to track her down beginning tomorrow. Those corporate types had kept me in the dark long enough. It was time for action, I either saw Charlie or filed for a divorce based on desertion or whatever term those fancy lawyers used to uncouple couples like Charlie and yours truly.




       Of course I delayed and delayed, hoping that any day Charlie would poke her head into the room and announce she had returned and wanted to renew old acquaintances. Had I known what was happening to her instead, I'd have already filed papers to get the divorce moving. Charlie had been discharged from the hospital and was now undergoing special training at another corporate facility half way around the world. Once that was finished she would get plenty of opportunities to put what she had been taught into practice. If she successfully demonstrated the ability to satisfy a wide spectrum of sex partners, she was to be slotted into the Corporate Morale Division, catering only to the very highest management levels of the organization.




       Prior to Charlie's assignment to India, she was to be sent to a relatively small university located on the Indus River in Pakistan. There was one particular department in the school that had attracted the interest of the corporation many years ago. Substantial corporate funds were provided to this unique department to continue various studies and testing that were of interest to the organization. Currently the majority of the funding was being devoted to studies of human sexuality. What better place to send the recently born again corporate employee, Ms. Charlie Dawson? So it was there that she was undergoing a battery of tests aimed at assessing her sexuality and its influence on both males and females. For internal reasons the Osmania group was kept ignorant of the subject's background, especially her recent synaptic rejuvenation.  




        My sweet, unaffected, sex maniac of a wife would soon be touring the Indian subcontinent, learning their sex secrets in the best way possible. She would begin her education in the best brothel in Bombay, which only the elite, jaded and extremely rich could afford to patronize. The plan was for her to work there and learn from the senior staff members by taking on customers while they watched and criticized her techniques and enthusiasm for the work. Charlie was slated to work a normal ten-hour shift and afterwards receive special intensive training that she could apply to her customers as well.




       After two weeks she would be graded and if deemed ready for further instruction, transported to another very exclusive brothel in Mangalore, which specialized in exotic methods for achieving sexual satisfaction. Her training and testing would follow the same approach as previously. From there she would journey across the Indian subcontinent to a location some fifty miles outside of Calcutta for her final training. Rather than work in a brothel she would be indentured to a group of monks as their sex slave, performing any act that they demanded of her and with any type of sex partner. This final portion of her education would be an arduous challenge for one so young despite her formidable gifts.






                       (To be continued - jethro jodhpur)




         




Review This Story || Author: Jethro Jodhpur
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