It was a strange scene, and the strangeness of it made Anna’s pussy wet with desire. Joan reached for Peter’s cock, but he angrily pushed her hands away. He seemed to shout at her, and following his order she held her hands behind her back. She looked so different from usual. Her cold confidence was gone and she was like his slave, prostrating herself at his feet and doing as she was told. The thought of that woman being dominated by her husband gave Anna a sharp, inexplicable thrill.
Peter held Joan’s auburn head down as he shuddered into her mouth. Without a moment’s pause, and without the slightest hint of affection for his wife, he pushed at her shoulders and sent her falling backward. Standing up, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet. He was rough with her as he turned her round and planted her hands on the desk. Bent over, with her back to him, Joan’s face was aimed right at the camera. Her expression was thrilling to see: thin lips open in wordless terror, eyes squinting as she braced herself. And yet she wasn’t afraid at all. There was no struggle as Peter pushed her dress up over her hips and spread her legs. Joan — cool, clinical, self-assured Joan — wanted this desperately. Anna knew just how that felt.
With a hand between her shoulders, Peter pushed Joan further over the desk until her cheek was pressed on to the wood. Standing behind his wife, he ripped her knickers down and spent a moment looking at her arse, rubbing his hands together. Then, looking directly into the camera, he held Joan’s waist with one hand and raised the other high in the air.
Joan’s body jerked across the desk as Peter whipped his hand on to her naked behind. Anna winced in sympathy as she watched Joan’s shoulders and neck twitch with the shock. As Peter spanked her, taking his time and talking to her between strokes, Joan closed her eyes tightly. Anna could almost share her pain, and the strange, intense pleasure that went with it.
Peter used all his force to chastise his wife. A wicked leer upturned the corners of his mouth as he salivated over the sight of her helplessness. He paused between slaps, bending slightly to inspect her buttocks and her sex. Anna wondered whether Joan was as wet as Anna had been, that morning, with the thermometer poking out of her arse; as wet as she was now.
Before the thought had even reached Anna’s mind, her fingers were moving towards her damp pussy. Delving beneath her dress, she found her panties soaked with longing. Sitting right back in her chair, she opened her legs, undoing the last two buttons on the skirt to give herself more room. Looking down, she watched as she pulled at her white knickers with one hand. Holding the flimsy material aside, she ran a finger along her labia.
Her lungs seemed to fill with desire as she discovered how wet she was. Her labia opened with ease, heavily lubricated by her arousal. Stroking up and down, Anna felt how smooth the skin of her lips was; how smooth, and warm, and swollen. Beneath her lush triangle of curls, her pussy lips were plump and dark with longing. She had to have something inside her, now.
Reaching for the vibrator, she glanced up at the screen. Joan’s small hands were in tight fists, screwed up on the desk. Behind her, Peter was holding her hips and watching as he slid his erection inside her. As he eased into his wife’s pussy, Anna turned on the vibrator and eased it into her hungry sex.
Twisting the base, she made it hum. It echoed inside her, reverberating deep in the walls of her vagina. She didn’t know where to look: at the screen, where Peter was slowly fucking his wife, or down where her hand was slowly fucking herself.
Deciding on the monitor, Anna sat transfixed. Joan’s face was no longer in torment. She was racked with another torment now: the feeling of too much pleasure. Peter was pushing into her with long, deliberate strokes. Anna knew how that position would let him in deep. She knew just how Joan would be feeling.
She matched Peter’s thrusting. When he slid his prick into Joan, Anna slid the vibrator inside herself; when he withdrew, she did, bringing the rod’s buzzing tip practically all the way out, until only an inch hummed between her lips. Then Peter would plunge again, and Anna would follow, pushing the thick shaft deep into her lust. As Peter lost his steady rhythm and started pumping frantically into Joan, Anna was overcome with need. Watching Joan’s head lift from the desk, Anna jerked the phallus in and out of her wet hole. Her inner thighs twitched with desperation. She needed more.
Anna hooked her knees over the chair’s arms. Sliding the vibrator into the depths of her pussy, she left it buried between her soft folds of flesh while she tore open the rest of her dress’s straining buttons. Her fingers were shaking, along with the rest of her body, as she scooped her heavy breasts out of her bra. Rubbing her tender areolae, she teased the tips of her breasts into stiffness, then cruelly pinched her poking nipples. She made her spine arch with the pain, but she pinched again, harder still. She was craving sensation. Her need was immense.
A thrill flashed across her empty mind at the thought of her position. Thighs as wide apart as they could go, she must have looked like a dirty, depraved animal. And that’s what she was, at that moment, all thought of shame pushed aside in her thirst for cock. Any cock would do — even a fake plastic one — as long as it filled her. Reaching between her legs, she turned the vibrator up to full volume. It screamed in reply, assaulting her nerve-endings with the strength of its throbbing. Moaning uncontrollably, Anna filled her vagina with the sound, pumping frenziedly until she could take no more.
She hadn’t realised that Peter had left the screen but, as she pulled out the rod and pressed it against her aching clit, she became vaguely aware of someone entering the room behind her. He resumed his seat beside Anna as she began to shake with the intolerable pleasure. Calmly, as if he was simply observing her at work, he watched as wave after wave of ecstasy washed her body. Through half-closed eyes, Anna could just make out his smile.
He caught the vibrator as her fingers let it drop. Holding her eyes with his unswerving gaze, he pushed the still-buzzing phallus into his mouth. Anna heard a grunt of pleasure in the back of his throat as the taste of her juices seeped on to his tongue. Licking his sexflavoured lollipop, he leant closer to Anna. She gasped as he slipped two fingers between her labia, stroking the ridged walls of her pussy. He slid another finger in, then another, stretching her. Then, before the fire of her climax had even begun to cool, he rubbed his thumb across her clit and brought her, moaning, back to insanity.
It seemed strangely quiet when the vibrator was finally silenced. Drained of energy, Anna watched like a child as Peter fastened her dress for the second time that day. She smiled sleepily at him as he sat back in his seat.
‘Anna, were you watching, before, when I…’ He nodded to the screen where Joan was now sitting back behind her desk.
‘Yes,’ Anna said. ‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.’
He raised a hand to stop her. ‘Don’t apologise. I wanted you to see it.’ His velvet voice lowered provocatively. ‘It made me hard, to think that you were watching.’ He looked into her eyes for a moment. ‘I’d appreciate it if you kept what you saw to yourself.’
‘Of course —’
‘Only my wife would be mortified if word got round that she enjoyed being treated like that. And she does enjoy it,’ he added quickly, as if Anna might have doubts.
‘I could tell she did,’ she said.
‘It’s Joan’s little secret. We all have our secrets, don’t we, Anna?’
What are yours? she wondered. Did Peter have a foible; a weakness which could be manipulated? It was hard to envisage him ever being out of control.
‘We all want something we won’t admit to.’ Peter’s eyes bored into her soul. ‘What do you want, Anna?’
‘I… I don’t know,’ she faltered, not sure how she was supposed to answer.
‘You don’t, do you? But I do.’ Raising his hand, he stroked her flushed cheek. ‘I know exactly what you want. And I’m going to help you get it.’
She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she almost didn’t care. Mesmerised by the softness of his touch, the richn
ess of his voice and the unwavering strength of his gaze, all she wanted at that moment was to stay there and wrap herself in his attention.
‘You may remember me telling you that the Institute is all about opening your mind, exploring new possibilities.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered. Her voice was faint, as if he’d stroked it away.
‘I can open your mind for you. Whatever it is you want, it’s in there, hiding in the darkest recesses. I want to help you let it out, Anna; to help you free yourself.’
That sounded a bit too much like New Age guru-speak for Anna’s liking. She was reminded of what Mike had told her, and an image of Galloway force-feeding her mind-altering drugs crept into her slumbering brain and woke her up. Suddenly roused from her post-orgasmic stupor, she remembered why she was there and silently promised herself she wouldn’t fall for Galloway. She had to stay focused; to keep telling herself that Galloway was dangerous. He was sexy, too, and enigmatic, but she couldn’t be drawn into his mind games. She had to play along, but at all times she must remember that this — the flirting, the domination — was just a game. And, to be the winner, she would need to keep her wits about her.
‘What do you say, Anna? Would you like me to help you explore what’s going on in here?’ His fingertips brushed her forehead. ‘And here?’ His other hand slid beneath her skirt.
‘Yes,’ she gasped, but despite his searching fingers her mind was clear. Yes, he could touch her. He could play whatever games he wanted. But she would always be in control. Always. And if she told herself that often enough, she might even begin to believe it.
Chapter Seven
Frank couldn’t sleep. Sighing heavily, he laced his fingers behind his neck and stared up at the ceiling above his bed. He tried to relax; to empty his mind as Peter had taught him to do when insomnia struck. He tried to focus on his breathing, but it was impossible tonight, more so than most nights. His mind was full of Anna.
He hadn’t felt this bad for weeks. But seeing Anna in his father’s office had brought back all those confusing feelings again. There was an aching void of loneliness, like a chill buried deep inside his body, and no matter how tightly he pulled his covers around him it wouldn’t thaw. There was fear; only a slight tinge, but enough to keep him awake. Above all, there was longing.
He closed his eyes and retrieved the picture of Anna he’d stored in his mind. She had looked so beautiful before, when he’d walked in on her medical check-up. Beneath her gaping dress, her body had been so pale and soft. Tender — that was the word to describe her, he thought. Pressed beneath his hard frame, she would feel so tender, yielding, and incredibly soft.
The thought of her softness made him hard. A dagger of guilt twisted in his stomach as he felt his penis thicken and rise beneath the sheets. ‘No,’ he whispered, urging his body to stop playing these tricks on him. Why did his cock always do that when his mind knew it was wrong?
It wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t have Anna. He had to quash his burgeoning desire to discover what it was like inside her. He would never feel the hardness of his prick inside the softness of her.
Frustrated, he rolled on to his front and punched the pillow with his fist. His penis ached as he rocked his hips into the mattress, pretending it was Anna. But rubbing himself on the sheet wasn’t enough to relieve his need. His balls were heavy and hard, and his brain was hurting. He had to go and see her, to touch her breasts and that secret, hidden place between her legs.
His head pounded as he got out of bed, and he waited for it to stop before going to the door. He peered out to see if anyone was looking, but there was no one there. Still, that never seemed to matter. Whatever he did, his father always seemed to find out about it. His father was even cleverer than he was. He ventured into the corridor. It was quiet, the only sound the slap of his bare feet on the cold lino.
Pausing by the lift, Frank checked the noticeboard. There was a list of staff members and their room numbers, and he looked for Anna’s. Seventy-two. One floor up. Ignoring the lift, he went to the stairs.
His penis, fully erect now, bobbed from side to side as he took the stairs two at a time. He wondered what Anna would think of him. Would she gasp, and smile, and tell him he was huge, like the other women did? Like them, she would probably want to touch him, to pull him into that heavenly place between her legs. But he wouldn’t let her. He would be strong, this time.
He wondered, as he had done a thousand times before, why it was so wrong to feel such pleasure. Every time he was inside a woman he felt his yearning loneliness melt away. He felt at home with his prick inside a woman’s pussy; the movements felt right, as if his body had been made for that purpose. The pain that constantly ached in his soul was soothed by female flesh. And those sounds a woman made — even the ones who almost screamed — they were enchanting. Frank always slept well after nights like those.
And yet it was wrong. He knew that for sure. Striding down the passage towards Anna’s door, he shook his head slightly in bewilderment. That pleasure, so glorious, dark and sticky, was also so bad that, once a woman had experienced it, she had to be punished severely.
Carefully, so as not to wake her, he opened the door and padded inside. Leaving the door ajar, so that a triangle of light fell across her face, he knelt at her side. He swore to himself that Anna would not be punished. As much as he wanted to feel what it was like inside her, he wanted to spare her the agony his other lovers had suffered. He would just look at her, maybe touch her — but nothing else.
Her breathing was slow and steady; she’d found the sleep that was so elusive to Frank. She looked incredibly peaceful. Her head was turned to one side, facing him, and her arms were thrown casually across the covers. Her lips were slightly apart. He wished he could see her beautiful green eyes, but they were shut, her long eyelashes dark against the paleness of her face. Lifting his hand, he delicately brushed her face with his fingertips, tracing down her cheekbone on to her lips.
Blinking, her eyes opened. For a moment, as she hovered between sleep and consciousness, she just lay there staring at him. Then, with a jolt that made the headboard bang against the wall, she sat up.
‘Frank?’ she said.
‘Hello, Anna.’
She seemed nervous. She looked over her shoulder at the open door, then leant out of bed and closed it. Frank felt sad as her features merged into the darkness, but then she switched on her bedside lamp, and he could see her even clearer than before. He smiled.
‘What are you doing here?’ she whispered.
‘I wanted to see you.’
She put a hand to her forehead. ‘God, you gave me such a fright. I was fast asleep.’
‘Sorry.’ Reaching up, he moved her hair where it had fallen over one eye. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’ His fingers carried on exploring her face. Her skin felt cool and smooth. He ran his touch across her forehead, down her nose, then all around her open mouth.
Watching him, she sighed as she recovered from her shock. ‘Do you always sneak up on women when they’re sleeping?’
‘Yes.’ He loved the way her lips moved beneath his fingers as she spoke.
One of her eyebrows arched questioningly. ‘Can I ask why?’
What a strange question. ‘By the time I finish work, everyone’s asleep.’
Her eyebrows moved again, creasing a line across her brow. ‘Is that why I’ve never seen you downstairs — because you work long hours?’
He nodded. ‘Mother and Father say it’s good for me to work, because my mind is more capable than anyone else’s and it needs stimulating. The job I do is the most important one in the whole Institute.’
Anna nodded slowly. ‘Yes, your father told me that.’
‘Everyone else sleeps, a lot, but I hardly ever do. My brain won’t stop. I couldn’t sleep tonight. I was thinking about you. I wanted to touch your skin.’
He cradled one side of her face in his hand. Inexplicably, he liked the way his hand looked so big against the delicac
y of her face. It made him feel protective and strong; it made him want to keep her safe in his arms.
She seemed to like his hand, too. She rested her fingers on top of his, tilting her head and closing her eyes for a moment. ‘That’s a coincidence. I was thinking about you before I went to sleep.’
‘You were?’
‘Yes.’ Her eyes smiled. ‘I’m glad you came.’
‘Why were you thinking about me?’
It was her turn to seem confused at a question. ‘Why? Because… you’re gorgeous. Because…’ She paused, taking in a breath. ‘When we met in your father’s office I wanted you.’
He swallowed hard; she was just like the other women. Didn’t she know it was wrong? ‘When you say you want me, do you mean… this?’ He knelt up to show her his cock.
She gasped. With a faint wisp of sound, her mouth opened, and it stayed open as she stared at him. ‘Oh God,’ she whispered. After an age, her eyes slowly returned to his face, after a slow detour up over his stomach and chest. ‘I was wondering whether you were big all over. Some of these heavily muscled guys, they’re…’ She nodded downward. ‘But you… you’re…’
He stroked her hair. ‘I can’t put it inside you.’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘You can’t?’
He shook his head sadly. ‘It’s bad, Anna. I would love to put it inside you, but you would be hurt, later.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ she breathed, squeezing his hand. ‘It’ll be all right, as long as we take it slowly. You’ll have to be gentle with me.’
Her fingers slipped out of his as she shuffled across the bed towards the wall. Frank wondered whether she understood what he was saying. He was about to explain when she dropped the sheet she’d been holding around her body. He saw her breasts, so full and round, and he forgot all about explaining. They couldn’t hurt her if he didn’t enter her. If he just touched her she’d be all right; he was sure of it.
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