Undercover Secrets

by Zoe Le Verdier

  Behind her, Simon held on to her hips. The bed bounced as he shuffled closer to her. Anna felt his penis nudge at her open sex.

  ‘What are you doing to her?’ Frank asked.

  Anna looked up at him. The worry in his voice was echoed in his deep-blue eyes.

  ‘I’m going to fuck her.’ Simon laughed. ‘What do you think I’m doing?’

  ‘Don’t.’ Frank’s hand closed around Anna’s wrist. He looked imploringly into her eyes, then over her head at Simon. ‘You can’t do that. Don’t you know it’s wrong?’

  Simon plunged his prick inside her. Groaning as he filled her, Anna arched her spine at the feeling. ‘Does that look wrong to you?’ Simon asked.

  Frank shook his head forlornly, silently pleading with Anna.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she gasped. ‘I promise you, it isn’t wrong. It’s…’ She lost the will to speak as the pure essence of pleasure was pumped into her veins. Simon took deep, deliberate strokes, rubbing the tight walls of her vagina with his cock. Anna felt so full she couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have Frank inside her, stretching her soft pussy with his hardness.

  Bending her elbows, she dipped her head into his lap. As Simon grunted out a steady rhythm, she licked the swollen plum of Frank’s cock. His saltiness hit her taste-buds and sparked a hunger in her belly. Sliding her lips around his meat, she lowered her mouth until she felt him at the back of her throat. With only half his length inside her, her jaw was already aching with his width. She sucked hard on him, trying to ease his tension away with her lips and tongue. She licked up and down, from the weeping tip to the root. His penis seemed to be straining to get away from his heavy, hairless balls. Anna nuzzled him there, and she heard him whimper above her. The sound seemed incongruous coming from such a massive man.

  She heard Simon too. He was getting noisier, and his pace had lost its measured beat and was turning frantic. His fingers cut into her hips as he levered himself deeper and harder into her yearning flesh. Shuddering, he released his climax.

  Barely giving her time to catch her breath, he was withdrawing from her pussy and manhandling her again. Pulling at her shoulders and pushing her rump, he turned her round until her sticky sex was facing Frank’s bewildered face. Anna could feel warm juices trickling down her inner thighs. She could feel a pulse beating in her clit as she thought again of how big Frank was. But she wanted, and needed, to have him inside her. She braced herself, watching as Simon folded his legs underneath her face. His penis was shining wet. At the back of her neck, his hand gently pushed her downwards; he wanted her mouth, now.

  ‘Fuck her,’ he suggested to Frank.

  ‘I told you… it’s wrong.’

  Anna looked over her shoulder at him. ‘Frank… please…’

  Simon shook his outstretched hand at Frank. ‘She wants you, can’t you see that? Look at her beautiful pussy. Look at her fantastic arse… Don’t you want her?’

  Frank seemed to waver. A fingertip explored the valley between her spread cheeks, running over her anus and down to her slick, hairy lips. ‘I do want her,’ he said under his breath.

  ‘So?’ Simon was almost screaming with frustration.

  Frank’s eyes cleared as he came to a decision. Anna collapsed with need as he stood up and walked to the door. ‘I mustn’t do it,’ he mumbled. ‘They’ll take her away. They’ll hurt her.’

  ‘Who will?’ Anna begged for an answer. She turned to Simon, who looked strangely shifty. ‘What’s he talking about?’

  ‘No idea,’ he said.

  Anna jumped from the bed. Her legs almost gave way. Snatching at Frank’s thick wrist, she steadied herself.

  ‘Frank, you’ve got to explain what you’re talking about.’

  He looked uncertainly at Simon.

  ‘Simon’s my friend. Just tell me what you mean. Who will take me away? Why?’

  ‘I don’t know who,’ he said, looking earnestly into her eyes. ‘I don’t know why. But every time I do that —’ he nodded towards the bed ‘— the woman I do it with has to suffer afterwards.’

  Anna reached up to stroke his furrowed brow. He looked so upset, his eyes so full of sorrow, that she felt a pang of maternal protectiveness towards him. ‘Calm down, Frank,’ she soothed. ‘No one’s going to hurt me.’

  ‘They hurt all the others.’ He closed his eyes tightly as if the memory was painful. ‘I put my penis inside the other women and they took them away to the other place. They held them prisoner and tortured them.’ His eyelids slowly opened again. ‘I don’t want you to be punished, like they were. I like you.’ He put his hand on his chest, where his heart lay. ‘I like you, in here. I don’t want to see you in pain. You’re safe, as long as I don’t put my penis in you.’

  In the long silence that followed, a sense of foreboding oozed over Anna. Simon seemed uncomfortable with what Frank had said; stranger still, he neither questioned nor denied it. What and where was the ‘other place’ Frank mentioned? What was the reason for the torture and punishments he spoke of? And why did Frank talk in such a strange, stilted way?

  The faint creak of the door opening broke the silence. Peter’s clothes — his clinical lab coat, his pristine slategrey suit beneath — were quite a shock among all that sweaty nakedness.

  ‘Anna,’ he leered, holding out his hand. ‘Please come with me.’

  ‘You’re not going to —’

  ‘No one’s going to hurt her,’ Peter snapped at Frank.

  ‘Like I keep telling you, you’ve done nothing wrong. Now go to bed.’

  ‘He’s been under a lot of stress.’ Peter grimaced. ‘I do apologise if he’s been acting a little… oddly.’

  Anna smiled nervously at him, and then at Joan. Joan ignored her smile and looked disdainfully at Anna’s bare body, pursing her lips contemptuously as if Anna was a fallen woman. Perched uncomfortably on a hard wooden chair in front of the long table, Anna shivered with cold and embarrassment. The last time she’d seen this room was on the day of her interview. Then, a whole row of scientists had studied her from behind the table. The situation was no less tense with only Peter and Joan sitting there.

  ‘Frank is involved in our most advanced study yet. Unfortunately, I think the stress is getting to him.’

  Anna nodded. ‘He did say he couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘His mind is so brilliant, so active. Many geniuses find it difficult to sleep.’

  It was hard to believe Frank was a genius, although perhaps that would explain the way he spoke. Anna had met hyper-intelligent people before, and they did tend to be a little odd. It came from spending their lives shut away within their infinitely superior intellects; they lost the ability to deal with the average person, and to speak on their level.

  ‘Frank doesn’t realise it, but he gets very tired from so little rest. He’s even been known to hallucinate from lack of sleep.’ Peter tapped his fingers together thoughtfully.

  ‘Did he seem confused at all to you?’

  ‘Well, he was talking about a place where women are taken to be punished.’

  Peter didn’t flinch. ‘How did that come up?’

  ‘He…’She paused, wondering how Joan would react. ‘He wouldn’t fuck me. I asked him why not, and he told me it was wrong — that I’d be taken to some sort of prison cell and tortured for it.’

  Peter glanced at his wife, smiling fondly as if his child had said something enchanting. ‘Like I said, Frank is prone to flights of fancy when he’s exhausted.’

  ‘So what he told me is all made up?’

  Peter’s eyes glittered secretively. ‘Anna, no one at the Institute is forced into anything they don’t want to do.’

  That seemed a rather obtuse way to answer. ‘So I wouldn’t be punished if I slept with your son?’

  ‘Oh, Anna.’ He chuckled patronisingly. ‘You’re a clever girl. You should have worked out by now that sexual activity is positively encouraged here. You can go to bed with whoever you want.’

  ‘Wh
oever will have you,’ Joan muttered bitterly.

  ‘And this “other place”— it doesn’t exist except in Frank’s imagination?’

  Peter eyed her for a moment, weighing her up. ‘Some of our staff get to visit that place, but only if they want to.’

  Anna was intrigued. ‘Can I see it?’

  ‘You will see it, one day.’ He stood up and strode into the centre of the room, to Anna’s chair. ‘But not yet. I don’t think you’re ready.’

  Anna’s mind was in a whirl. She only vaguely noticed as Peter gently pulled her up from her seat and walked her towards the medical trolley.

  ‘Pop yourself up here for us, Anna. We need to take a quick look at you.’

  She wondered whether this was going to be the same sort of check-up she’d enjoyed the other day. She soon had her answer. Standing at the foot of the bed, Peter reached under the trolley and produced a pair of black leather straps, one at each corner. He fastened each ankle, then moved to her head and buckled her wrists so her body was spread-eagled in an X.

  Joan’s low heels tapped across the floor. Her cold face showed nothing as she looked at Anna harnessed to the bed, and it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. Emotionless, she seemed to be waiting.

  ‘Take her temperature,’ Peter said, and Joan sprung into action. Plucking a thermometer from her coat pocket — a thermometer as big as the one Peter had poked into Anna’s arse — Joan leant over Anna’s hip. Without any hesitation, she inserted the glass rod into Anna’s sex.

  The memory of Simon’s prick was still embedded in her flesh, and the thermometer was thin and cold in comparison. It made Anna gasp. Husband and wife both peered at her, their faces close to her open pussy, and their clinical attention made Anna gasp again. Like every other encounter she’d had in the Institute, this was unbelievable. She was restrained, powerless to escape and totally at their mercy; and it felt incredible. Just like the anticipation of Frank’s cock, it was frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

  ‘Did you want Frank?’

  It took Anna a moment to realise Joan was talking to her. ‘Huh? Sorry?’

  Joan tutted impatiently, pulling the thermometer out and inspecting the reading. ‘Did you want Frank?’ she snapped. ‘You said he wouldn’t fuck you — did you want him to?’

  Anna looked to Peter for help. ‘Tell the truth,’ he urged.

  ‘He’s very handsome,’ Anna said, wincing as Joan fingered her labia. Her hands were quick and businesslike, and unbearably stimulating.

  ‘Were you worried about how big he was? Have you ever taken a lover that big?’

  ‘No. I was a bit worried, but…’

  ‘But like all women, you were greedy. You wanted that huge prick inside you.’

  Anna caught her breath as Joan teased her clit, pinching the nerve-endings into burning arousal.

  ‘Are you thinking about him now? Your labia are swollen. Your clitoris is engorged and you’re streaming with lubrication.’

  Anna swallowed hard. It was impossible to say exactly what she was thinking about. She couldn’t distinguish one lucid thought amongst the scrambled mess of her brain. Peter’s avid attention, Joan’s deft touch and her tone of voice, Frank’s prick, Simon’s prick, humiliation, submission — disparate desires and emotions all merged into one bizarre realisation. Whatever Joan and Peter were going to do to her, she wanted it.

  Joan crouched down, disappearing from view while she fumbled under the trolley. When she straightened up she was wielding something black and menacing, and there was undisguised and sadistic pleasure on her face. ‘I’m going to show you, young lady, what it feels like to take such a big cock. Peter,’ she barked. Peter moved behind his wife. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he lifted her compact body so she could kneel on the bed between Anna’s ankles. Shuffling forward on her knees, Joan lowered the huge black dildo. ‘You young women are all the same — think you can take it. Let’s just see whether you can take this.’

  Straining her neck, Anna looked down her fettered body. Hovering between her open thighs, Joan’s tiny hands brought the glossy black phallus closer. Peter reached over and held Anna’s pussy lips open. All three watched, transfixed, as the distended tip of the huge rubber rod eased inside her sex.

  Joan pushed it in slowly, easing it into Anna’s pussy inch by inch. It was painful pleasure, the way her inner muscles were being gradually stretched. It was unendurable agony and inconceivable ecstasy. Anna thanked God it wasn’t a real penis: a man wouldn’t have been so slow. A man would have rammed himself into her vagina and sent her rigid with shock.

  It was still a shock to feel full up to her eyeballs. And it was another shock when Joan stood up and picked her way over Anna’s body until she stood over her face, a foot either side of her neck. Beneath her lab coat, Anna could see the dark auburn triangle of her pubic hair.

  ‘You’re not the only slut who walks about without panties on,’ Joan cackled, mocking Anna’s surprise. Kneeling again, she hitched up her white coat and lowered her pussy to Anna’s face. Anna barely had time to gulp a lungful of air before her mouth was smothered with Joan’s sex.

  Trapped, she had no choice but to do what Frank had done to her. But as she unfurled her tongue into the succulent folds of Joan’s flesh, she found, to her amazement, that the sensation was quite wonderful. Apart from the intoxicating smell and the delicious taste of sex, the yielding softness of Joan’s pussy made Anna’s mouth water. She’d never been so close to a woman, and now she could see why so many of her lovers liked to spend hours with their faces buried between her thighs. She loved the complex beauty of the creases and folds, the way Joan’s labia swelled as Anna opened them with her tongue; and she loved the slipperiness coating the satin skin just inside Joan’s pouting lips. Apart from the physical pleasure, there was mental pleasure at the soft, animal-like sounds Joan was making above her. In that instant, Anna understood how it must feel to be a man, prising ecstasy from a woman’s body and making her cry out using just his lips and tongue. It gave her a sense of power. She longed to do the other things men do. Her wrists chafed against their bindings as she tried to free herself. She wanted to slide her hands over Joan’s buttocks, to finger her tightly closed anus, to tweak the hard tips of her breasts.

  But Joan’s body was being lifted away. Peter carried her around to the foot of the bed and sat her on the edge. He pushed her down until her back was flat on the bed, her torso fitting neatly between Anna’s open legs. Peter’s greedy eyes alternated between his two women. His hands slid around Joan’s thighs and he propped her legs up against his chest. Joan’s slender ankles flexed by his ears as he pushed up her lab coat. Anna could see his prick looming towards his wife’s wet pussy, and then it was slowly disappearing inside her. Standing still, he rubbed his hands up and down Joan’s thin legs and smiled menacingly up at Anna. ‘Turn her on,’ he said.

  Joan reached up above her head to where the dildo lay buried in Anna’s hole. Anna thought she heard her laugh cruelly as she grabbed the rod in one hand and twisted its base with the other. From that instant, all Anna could hear was an angry, throbbing drone which shook the tightly stretched walls of her pussy and reverberated in her soul. Helpless, her eyes closed as the noise took over. It was mind-blowing; already completely full, there was no room inside her for the merciless buzzing. It was more than she could take.

  Her pitiful crying seemed to give impetus to Peter’s warped mind. He began to thrust into his wife. Joan’s sighs of pleasure mingled with his grunts of effort. Caught in their own rocking desire, they ignored Anna’s pleading.

  Marooned on the bed, assaulted by her own senses, Anna gave up the struggle. Her whole body sighed as she surrendered. The vibrator’s throaty buzz screamed its way into her head, the intolerable noise flushing out a half-formed, impossible idea — that what Peter had said to her in the monitoring room was right. She belonged at the Institute.

  Chapter Nine

  Anna swam slow, measu
red lengths of the lukewarm pool. Her body was heavy with the memory of last night; every muscle seemed to have been strained. But as she eased herself through the water her limbs began to loosen and her mind to clear.

  She had to forget about the four lovers she’d been with yesterday. As much as she wanted to wallow in the memory of Joan and Peter, Simon and Frank, she had more pressing thoughts to turn to. This was her first complete day off, and she had to make some progress with her investigation. How she was going to manage that with the cameras watching, she had no idea — so she had to concentrate on finding a way around that obstacle.

  Mike, as usual, had begged her to be careful when she’d rung him earlier. He’d been worried as she hadn’t phoned for a couple of days. He’d have been even more worried, she thought, if she had told him the intimate details of the previous two nights at the Institute. Instead, she’d given him an edited version, concentrating on Frank and her suspicion that he could be a clone. But Mike had assured her that that was impossible; he’d spoken in depth to leading genetic engineers, and every one had told him that human cloning was still a long way off. The technology wasn’t in place yet and, besides, there were strict laws to ensure the procedure would never be allowed. It seemed to be the one area all Mike’s contacts from the scientific community agreed on. Cloning cells and vegetables, and even animals, could have some benefits; and engineering genes to eradicate hereditary diseases was an aim they all shared. But trying to replicate a human was like playing God, and it raised too many ethical dilemmas. ‘Once you start along that road, there’s no way of stopping,’ an eminent professor had said to Mike. ‘Pretty soon, you’d have parents wanting to design their unborn babies. You’d have ambitious mothers breeding children for their intelligence or their athletic prowess. It would be madness, and it would create a class divide far worse than the one we’ve got now. We’d end up with a genetically engineered superrace — stronger, cleverer and altogether superior to the rest of us. Hitler had the same idea. No one will ever be allowed to carry on where he left off.’