Anna tried to look grateful.
‘If you pass all the tests satisfactorily, and I’m sure that you will, then at the end of the trial period you will be free to come and go as you please. You can drive into the village or go walking in the mountains, provided you’re accompanied by another staff member. Again, this is for your own safety. But I think you will find that very few of our staff feel the need to go out. We’ve got everything here, you see. We expect you to work hard, but in return you will enjoy a fulfilling and rewarding social life.’
‘Fulfilling’ and ‘rewarding’ were very pleasant words. Talk of ‘tests’ was a little more ominous. ‘What does my trial period involve?’ Anna asked, making her voice slightly higher in a bid to sound innocent. ‘Do I have to take any exams?’
There it was again, that flutter of eye contact between Joan and Peter. ‘There are no exams here.’ Peter laughed. ‘No pressure. But you will be assessed constantly during the next four weeks. This is a very special place, Anna. We can only offer you a permanent position here once we’re certain you fit in.’
‘I’ll try my best,’ Anna promised.
Peter’s eyes smiled knowingly. ‘I’m sure you will.’
The three of them continued to the end of the corridor and turned the corner. A bell rang just as they arrived at wide double doors. ‘Time for you to meet your colleagues,’ Peter said.
With a flourish, he opened the doors. Anna walked in behind him, followed by Joan. In single file they went to the front of the huge, brightly lit lecture theatre. There were three chairs waiting for them, and Anna was motioned to the middle one. Sitting centre stage, sweat began to prickle her skin. Stretching out in front of her were rows of tiered seats. As Peter’s hypnotic voice commanded everyone’s attention, Anna counted up: ten seats per row, ten rows of seats. There were a hundred people sitting in that room. A hundred pairs of eyes, fixed on her. A hundred white uniforms. And, as far as she could see, only a quarter of those uniforms were short, white dresses like hers. Every one of those dresses was a little too tight.
Anna’s eyes scanned the room while she listened to what Peter was saying. All the women there were very attractive. There were all types: blondes, brunettes, redheads; all shades of skin from creamy white to darkest brown; voluptuous and skinny frames. But why so few women compared to the men?
The men were all attractive, too. Their uniforms were not quite as revealing as the women’s; they wore pristine lab coats over blue shirts and dark trousers. As Anna looked out at the audience, each person whose eyes she met gave her the overly friendly welcoming smile which was beginning to get on her nerves. Why were they all so sickeningly nice? She knew she looked quite sexy in her crisp white uniform, but was that any reason for one hundred young, presumably sane people to sit and grin at her?
Peter finished speaking and sat down beside Anna. Joan took over, reading out work schedules and rotas from a clipboard. Her voice was dry and monotonous and would have been hard enough for Anna to concentrate on even without Peter distracting her.
He leant towards her and whispered, ‘I like you in that uniform.’
Glancing quickly at him, Anna found his gaze nestling down her cleavage. She tried to keep calm and to hide her emotions, but his attention in front of all these people was embarrassing. Anna looked down into her lap at her hands.
‘Everyone’s staring at you, Anna. They’re staring at that top button, and willing it to burst open.’
A blush began to warm her cheeks.
‘They’re staring at that tight little dress, and wondering what you’re wearing underneath.’ He rested one hand on her thigh. His palm burnt her with lust through the pure white of her stocking. ‘You and I know, don’t we, Anna? We know there’s nothing underneath.’ He pressed his lips on to her ear. ‘Nothing but your sweet, wet pussy.’
Anna swallowed hard and clenched her inner thigh muscles together. This was too much, even for her. She loved to tease and shock, but it was a different matter to be teased and shocked by someone else, especially by an older man with penetrating eyes and a voice that seemed to stroke her sex. How did he know she was wet?
Dr Galloway curled his hand around her leg, slipping his fingertips between her tightly closed thighs. Mortified, Anna felt the attention of a hundred people following the path of his hand as it moved downwards to her knee. Pulling at her, he parted her legs an inch.
‘Show them,’ he breathed. ‘Show them what you showed me in your interview. Show them that you’ve got no panties on.’ He squeezed her knee. ‘You know you want to.’
She didn’t want to. Anna closed her eyes as he eased her legs further apart. Safe in the darkness behind her eyelids, she could have pretended it wasn’t happening, were it not for the gasps in the audience.
Peter’s hand left Anna’s knee, and she opened her eyes again as he stood up. ‘Don’t move a muscle,’ he commanded under his breath. He moved behind her chair as Joan sat down again. ‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to our new recruit.’ Sitting there with her legs apart — not wide open, but wide enough to show a shadow of dark pubic hair — Anna found it hard to breathe. Putting his hands on her shoulders, Peter spoke over her head into the audience. ‘Everyone, this is Anna. Anna comes to us, like most of you, disillusioned with the outside world and its constraints. She is twenty-seven, and looking for a change of direction in her life. I’m sure you will all want to join me in welcoming Anna to the Institute.’
As one, the audience murmured their approval that Anna had been chosen to join them. She felt her blush spreading down her throat as a wolf whistle echoed in the high ceiling, and several people laughed as the sound reverberated around the room.
‘Simon, was that you?’ Peter asked.
All eyes momentarily left Anna and turned to Simon. He was sitting in the back row, grinning along with all the others. ‘I was just being friendly,’ he said, and there was more laughter.
‘Perhaps you’d like to come down here and give Anna a personal welcome.’
Simon’s eyebrows flickered and his eyes slowly lowered from Peter’s to Anna’s. Then they lowered further, exploring the parts of Anna’s body which were visible. Judging by the look on his face, he was delighted with what he found. He hesitated for a long moment, his lips apart as he stared between her thighs. Then the man sitting next to Simon nudged him in the ribs, and to a chorus of encouraging whistles and cheers he stood up.
Anna’s body began to tremble as she watched him come down the gently sloping stairs to the front of the lecture theatre. He was very attractive: tall, with floppy dark blond hair, warm brown eyes and long limbs. But that didn’t make it any easier to sit there and wait for him to approach, with her legs apart in welcome.
Hoping Peter wouldn’t notice, she edged one foot back towards the other. ‘Don’t,’ he hissed, gripping her shoulders to emphasise his point. ‘I told you not to move.’
Wide-eyed and helpless, Anna looked up as Simon walked towards her. ‘Hello, Anna,’ he said, in a friendly Northern accent. ‘I’m Simon. Nice to meet you.’
She smiled uncertainly. ‘Nice to meet you, too,’ she croaked. But before the words were out, Simon was on his knees in front of her. With a swift, fluid movement, his hands flowed over her knees and up under her dress. He pushed her thighs wide apart; so far apart that the tendons in her inner thighs strained in protest and the skirt of her dress rode up over her crotch. Now, there was no mistaking what she may or may not be wearing under her uniform. Wincing, Anna glanced down in horror at the sight of her lush black hair and her plump, open lips. The curls on either side of her gaping sex were slick with longing; a bizarre longing, borne not out of sensual foreplay but shame and humiliation. Her pussy was overflowing with desire, but she wasn’t at home, in bed with a lover; she was in a research centre, with a hundred strangers peering into her secret self and a doctor controlling her movements.
Her hands flew to cover herself. Unsure of where to turn f
or help, she looked out into the audience. Those sitting in the centre of their rows had their view hidden by Simon, and they were leaning to one side, straining to share the intimacy Simon was enjoying. On Anna’s left, Joan was eyeing Anna’s crotch disapprovingly. Peter was bowing forwards, his face at her shoulder. ‘Please,’ Anna whispered, turning to him to save her. ‘Please…’
She wasn’t quite sure what she was asking him to do. All she knew was that she wanted this stopped, before she fainted with humiliation. But Peter ignored her pleading, and Simon gently uncrossed her hands and moved them away from her pussy.
As he dipped his head, all rational thought was swal-lowed up. Anna shuddered as Simon’s tongue unfurled inside her and lapped at her juices. Behind her, Peter tightened his grip. It was as if he were reading her thoughts, sensing that she was desperate to push Simon’s head away, close her legs and pull her dress down to hide her shame.
But Anna could not have moved, even if she had wanted to. As well as the pressure on her shoulders, Simon was gripping her knees tightly. And then there was the real reason Anna was there; her investigation. She had to go through with this, she told herself. It was vital she did whatever was expected of her. She had no choice.
There was another reason, too, for allowing this to happen; the reason she dared not think about too deeply — the one which made her clutch desperately to the sides of her seat. It was insane and incomprehensible, but as Anna watched Simon’s sandy head tilting and pushing with effort, her helpless shame began to slowly twist inside her guts and turn into something else. It was just like in her interview: Anna was completely out of control, and enjoying it. The realisation split her in two like a spear of lightning. One half of her was utterly mortified at being exposed like this. The other half was lapping it up with as much fervour as Simon was lapping her up.
His lips and tongue were skilful, licking the smooth inner edges of labia, sucking on her tender folds of flesh and then diving deep inside her. Her mouth open with silent shock, Anna looked out into the rows of seats. The hundred staff members were watching her more eagerly than ever now, their smiles fading as their hands twitched in their laps.
Pausing for a second to glance up into Anna’s face, Simon began working on her throbbing clit. Suddenly, Anna lost all control of her mind and body. Her senses blurred into one, and her entire being was distilled into the tiny nub of flesh that was being so wonderfully nibbled and tongued. Letting go of the seat of her chair, she lifted her trembling fingers. Tentatively, as if her touch might wake him to reality and put a stop to the flow of pleasure coming from his mouth, Anna rested her hands on the back of Simon’s neck. Feeling his muscles strain to give her more pleasure — more tongue, more lips — drove her wild. She either forgot about her audience or forgot to care. She dropped her head back, looking up into Peter’s eyes. She spread her thighs still wider, and pressed on her feet until her hips lifted from the chair. Shameless now, she pulled on Simon’s head and thrust her sex further into his face. Her fingers twitched and dug into him as he found the spot. With a sublime, earth-shattering mixture of lips, teeth and tongue, he sent spasms of ecstasy shuddering through Anna’s body. She cried out. The sound flew up to the ceiling where it echoed for a moment. The audience replied with applause.
Simon’s hands slid up to her hips and he pinned her down into her seat. He didn’t stop licking at her pouting sex until her climax had whirled through her body and subsided. Feeling her surrender to the pleasure, he finally let her go and sat back on his heels.
His grinning mouth was shining with Anna’s juices. ‘Welcome to the Institute, Anna. I think you’re going to like it here.’
‘Thank you,’ Anna whispered, her voice a faint breeze after the storm. ‘I’m sure I will.’
Chapter Four
It was her first test; a test she had to pass. Just like in her interview, Anna was being teased and provoked. And just like in her interview, she got the feeling that her reactions were being scrutinised. She was on a month’s trial and this was the first step in her assessment. It was important she succeeded.
Anna paused in her typing and glanced up at Dr Galloway. For the umpteenth time that morning, she caught him openly staring at her thighs. Her desk was positioned directly opposite Peter’s, giving him an uninterrupted view of her legs which he was quite obviously relishing. He looked up just as she did, his grey eyes full of lust. Embarrassed, Anna blinked several times as she focused on her work again. It was ridiculous that, after her baptism of fire in the lecture theatre the day before, something as relatively innocuous as Peter’s leering should cause her to blush. But there was something unnerving about Dr Galloway and the game he was playing.
It was a game, Anna was sure of it. Galloway was pushing her for a reaction, keeping his cards close to his chest while he waited for Anna to show her hand — or any other part of her body she may care to display. The next time she caught him, she promised herself, she would respond. She would finish the section she was typing, then look up again. If he was still staring at her, she would… She didn’t exactly know what she would do. Something. Anything to take this game on to the next level.
Concentrating with every fibre of her body, Anna forced her eyes to stay on the computer screen. It was almost impossible, as she could feel the heat of Galloway’s eyes, like lasers, searing into the curves of her flesh. Her legs wanted to fidget, but she managed to hold them still and let him look. At last she finished typing, sent the page to print, and sat back in her seat.
Anna met Galloway’s smiling eyes. He seemed to be challenging her. Perhaps it was time she picked up the gauntlet. She laughed nervously as she spoke. ‘What are you doing, Peter?’
Galloway raised one thick eyebrow. ‘What do you mean, what am I doing?’
‘Well, it’s just that you said you had a lot of work to do this morning. But you seem to be spending most of your time looking at my legs.’
Galloway put his pen down, rested his elbows on his desk and laced his fingers. ‘Are you questioning whether I am working hard enough, Anna?’ His voice was stern, but there was amusement in his eyes.
‘N — No,’ Anna stuttered. ‘It’s just that —’
‘Do you mind my looking at your legs?’
‘Well… no.’
‘Then may I remind you, Anna, that you have work to do as well. I suggest you concentrate on that, instead of worrying yourself about what I am up to.’
‘Y — yes, Peter.’ Admonished, Anna plucked the sheet of paper from the printer and added it to the pile she had already produced. She turned back to the computer, but before she resumed her typing she couldn’t resist one last surreptitious glance at Galloway. He was still looking at her, but with admiration in his expression now, as well as lust.
It was quite a strain to ignore his staring. Anna’s eyes were being pulled like magnets towards Galloway’s, and it was a real effort to stop them from straying. But she concentrated on her word-processing, working through the notes Peter had given her. It was her first proper day, so it wasn’t surprising that she had been given a fairly simple task to break her into her new job at the Institute. She had to type out work rosters for each of the labs, detailing the names of staff and the code numbers of the experiments they would be working on for the next week. For her own part, Anna would be working in Peter’s office for her first week; he had told her that there was lots of secretarial and administrative work he wanted her to do, and besides, it would give her a chance to get to know him better. How much better? Anna wondered, as his attention settled over her lap like an itchy blanket.
She finished printing out the laboratory schedules and began on the next sheaf of notes. There were rotas for everything: laundry duty, cooking, cleaning and even security work. It seemed that the Institute was completely self-contained; there were no outside contractors, which was more than a little surprising. No wonder the staff was so big, Anna thought.
She waited for the final sheet to whirr out of the pr
inter. ‘I’ve finished these, Peter,’ she said quietly, not wanting to interrupt him now that his eyes had finally returned to his work.
‘Bring them here,’ he said, without looking up. ‘I’d like to check them.’
Anna stood beside him and handed him the rosters. Slowly, he worked through them, nodding to himself. As she stood there in silence, Anna noticed his hands. They were big, with long fingers and dark hairs on their backs. She liked looking at men’s hands, and she liked Peter’s. They were sensual hands. She wondered how they would feel cupped to her breasts, then sliding down, over her waist, on to her hips, down…
‘There’s a mistake here.’ Peter slapped a sheet down in the middle of his desk and jabbed his finger accusingly at it.
‘Is there?’ Anna asked. Peter’s handwriting, like every doctor’s, was heavily slanted and straggly. But Mike’s scrawl was just as bad, and since she had begun working for him she had become an expert in deciphering the indecipherable. She was also an excellent speller, and had double-checked everything before printing. She was certain she hadn’t made a single error. ‘Where is it?’
‘There.’ Peter wafted his hand dismissively towards the page. ‘Second column.’
His desk was very wide, and very deep. ‘I can’t see it from here,’ Anna said.
‘Then lean over the desk and have a closer look.’
Anna’s brow furrowed as she wondered what on earth this was all about. But as she obeyed him, it became obvious. Placing her hands on the cool, lacquered oak, Anna bent her torso over the desk in order to get a look at the paper. As she leant forward Peter sat back. There was method in Galloway’s madness; by getting Anna to bend over like that, he rewarded himself with a view up her dress as it rode up at the backs of her thighs.
Undercover Secrets Page 6
