A Grim Mistake (3 page)

Lightly, ever so lightly, her thumb flicked the stainless steel bud piercing Stephanie’s clit.

“Oh! Oh!” Stephanie groaned with each stab. Her cunt spasming as Kaori relentlessly tickled her clit. Stephanie pulled Kaori into her chest. Her tits compressed against Kaori’s smaller breasts, their nipples colliding. Stephanie’s knees wobbled as Kaori continued assaulting her pussy.

Stephanie was lost. Her head lolled back, her chest heaved. Her hands went to Kaori’s hair and tilted her face upward. Stephanie’s mouth came open as she leaned into the surprised girl’s carnal embrace. Stephanie’s lips descended onto Kaori’s mouth. Plump, wet lips met in shock as Kaori froze, uncertain. She hadn’t intended for it to go this far; she’d only meant to teach her large friend a lesson.

The mouth pressed against hers sucked on her bee-stung lips; moist and tender. She’d never kissed a woman before despite her rather brazen behavior. Stephanie’s tongue pried open her lips, forcing them apart. Kaori obliged, opening her mouth. Her thumb resumed its dance thumping in time to her heart against Stephanie’s vibrating nubbin causing Stephanie’s tongue to penetrate further into her mouth.

Kaori returned her moist kisses. Her free hand slid between their tightly pressed bodies; gliding upward until she cupped a large tit in her small palm. The breast was heavy and full; soft and firm.

“Hey!” Emilie interjected, “what are you two doing?” Stephanie’s lips sucked and licked down Kaori’s slender neck as Kaori rubbed her nipple. “Hey, guys?” Emilie complained, “Come on, let me in.”

Emilie stood, ignored. She slumped against the stall’s door in dejection. She would never forgive them for this, she determined as she listened to the sounds of serious sex beginning to emanate from the locked booth.

“What are you looking at?” Emilie harshly questioned the young woman standing at the vanity as she held the eyeliner wand in her frozen hand.

“What? Oh, nothing, nothing.”

“Then get out of here.” Emilie advised, “In fact, let’s both get out of here.” With that she ushered the young woman from the restroom casting a lingering look back at the stall where sounds of heated passion continued.

Outside Emilie glanced around at the passersby walking along the midway going from booth to booth oblivious to the recent events. She felt frustrated and ignored. In no mood to mingle with the tourists enjoying their outing and unable to join her friends she headed for the privacy of the viewing platform.

Using the elevator, she rode to the second floor viewing room with its panoramic scenery of the endless Pacific. As she suspected the area was empty. She saw nothing through the large windows but than the black velvet night across the ocean and a few itinerant fishermen trying their luck at night angling on the deck below.

She could feel unreleased need warming her belly as she walked; her steps agitated and sharp. “Damn, them,” she thought bitterly, “how could they leave me here alone.” Still, she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself at the results of the strange magician’s trick. “How had he done that?”

Remembering how they had stood in line as Grimm circled them, briefly touching each on their shoulder. She recalled having felt a warm flushing tingle run through her as Grimm’s large fingers rested on her bare skin. “…something different about each of you,” she remembered Grimm saying.

Feeling a stammer of apprehension, Emilie slowly slid her hand down her jeans. Not finding any apparent alteration in either the familiar shape of her pussy, she idly caressed the denim covered mound, lost in thought as she wondered what Kaori and Stephanie were doing. As she stroked her cunny she realized her fingers felt dull, numb, miles away from the tender flesh just beneath the fabric; as if the ultra-sensitive nerves lining her vagina were anesthetized somehow. She hardly had time to consider the sensations.

“Should I leave you to finish yourself off or would you like some company?” she heard a man’s deep baritone question behind her.

Startled, her hand flew from between her legs as she whirled. “You!” She exclaimed in surprise. Before her, emerging from the shadows of the stairwell was none other than Denny Brice.

“What are you doing here? And why are you sneaking up on me?”

“Hardly sneaking,” he responded blandly, “you were so lost in…um…thought, that I doubt blaring trumpets would have disturbed you.”

“Hmmpph!” Emilie snorted, blushing as she regarded the arrogant bastard standing in front of her. Confident and imperturbable he strolled closer, bringing his six-foot four-inch frame closer. With that cat-ate-the-canary grin, golden tumble of wavy locks and his tailored Armani suit he looked like a movie star. She couldn’t help but notice how broad his shoulders were nor how slender his flat stomach and hips seemed in comparison.

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.” She challenged, defiance settling into her eyes and the determined set of her shoulders.

“I followed you.” He stated plainly.

“You…you what?” Emilie stuttered taken aback at the bastard’s boldness. Taking a step back she retreated from his looming presence.

“Followed you. Is something wrong with your hearing, Councilor?”

“Nothing wrong with my hearing,” Emilie replied growing angry, “I’m pretty certain I just heard you admit to stalking me. Not something I’m sure the other Partners would appreciate learning.”

“How would they ever know?” Brice’s challenging glare, smoldering and dark, burned into her own sending rills of fear darting up her spine raising the hair on her arms. “This man is more dangerous than I’d imagined,” she thought in worry.

“I could tell them,” she warned. “I know I’m just an Associate, but your reputation precedes you. And in this day and age, corporations can’t afford to ignore sexual harassment complaints.”

“Yes,” Brice pondered thoughtfully pacing slowly around the enclosed platform, “I suppose you could make trouble for me,” he agreed nonchalantly. “It would be a problem,” he continued, “if only Grimm hadn’t seen to it that you will do whatever I please, when I please.”

Brice arrested his pacing and neared the diminutive blonde bringing his face inches away from her own. Despite herself, Emilie couldn’t help but inhale the musky scent of his cologne mixed with the sweet, salty smell of a man. Unbidden images of him taking her in his muscled arms flitted through her mind. Batting the disturbing images aside like irritating gnats, she turned her concentration back the towering figure.

“When you were stroking your pussy just now did it feel somehow…different?” His eyes drilled into her nearly taking her breath away from the fiery intensity of his regard.

Indignant Emilie retorted, “I’m not going to answer that! How dare you ask me such a thing!” Emilie started to brush past him intent on leaving.

With ease Brice grasped her upper arms and held her firmly in place forcing her to look at him. Trying to break away, she quickly realized the strength in the man’s grip. Before she could speak, Brice continued, “I’m sorry. That wasn’t actually a fair question. It wasn’t fair,” he explained, “because I already know the answer. I know that your usually highly sensitive cunt felt almost nothing from your caresses.”

Emilie tried again to twist free from Brice’s iron grasp. “And I know,” he went on, “that no matter what you do, it will never have feeling again. In fact, you’ll find that nothing feels as it should. Your nipples will not tingle and stiffen as they’re teased and tweaked. Your skin will not burn from a lover’s caress as he traces sweet circles on even your most sensitive portions. And nothing you or anyone else can do will ever again give you release from your desires. You will never have an orgasm again.”

Emilie was nearly shuddering with anger at the high-handed treatment and astonishing behavior coming from this man. Her heart thudded hollowly as she tried not to listen to the voice in her head telling her that what this bastard said was true. The numbness she’d felt returned in her memory. She’d thought it was just the thick denim. But what if it wasn’t? What if somehow her senses were suborned, co-opted, taken over by this son of a bitch?

With a frantic wrench, Emilie broke out of the domineering man’s grasp, “you’d like me to think that, wouldn’t you, Mister High and Mighty, and God’s gift to women.” Emilie roared, moving away. “Just who in the hell do you think you are, you arrogant prick!?”

Brice watched as she backed away from him in anger and fear. There was only one way to prove his hold over her. Only one thing would grab her attention.

Swiftly he closed on her, his left hand coming up as she tried to back away. Too late, his fingers caressed her cheek sliding along the delicate line of her jaw, tender, nearly ephemeral; it was enough.

Emilie’s knees buckled as her pussy clenched, intense spasms rippling through her in burning waves. “Ohhhh!” She screamed as the sudden orgasm pounded through her. Falling to the floor, her knees drew to her chest as she tried to curl away from the most powerful orgasm she had ever known. Gushing sprays of cream squirted from her cunny soaking her panties as she writhed on the floor. She felt her breasts burn as if a thousand silky fingers covered every inch of her skin.

Her ass bucked and humped as the ghostly fingers traced and expanded covering every inch of her body. Fingers delved between her ass cheeks sliding along her thighs, entering her anus, invading her throbbing cunt. It was as if every minute part of her body was receiving erotic attention from an endless horde of ravaging lovers. Nothing she’d experienced before had ever come close to the total envelopment she experienced now. Her body responded without thought, without restraint.

Breath came in wracking pants leaving her voiceless and raw. Every nerve enlivened and enervated in sensuous pleasure as the arousal continued unabated.

Denny Brice watched captivated. The sight of the slender blonde woman writhing in erotic agony on deck before him aroused him immediately. His cock swelled with a rush in painful response.

Grimm had warned him the reaction might be severely strengthened due to his lack of skill and experience; that only with practice would his control gain subtlety and finesse, but he hadn’t imagined anything like this. Emilie was clearly out of control. Her shoulders twitched in spasmodic jerks and drool slid from her open mouth. Her face had become flushed and splotchy as the orgasm receded leaving her hair a tangled mess from her thrashing.

A brief sense of regret flittered through Denny Brice’s dark soul; an unfamiliar pang of remorse at the severity of the beautiful girl’s reaction. Angrily he stamped it down as he remembered Grimm’s admonition that this control would only last for six-months. His plans had to proceed if he were to win this delectable prize for good.

“Especially now,” he thought wryly, “that she is certain to hate me for doing this to her.”

Brice knelt next to the girl as her breathing returned to normal. A sheen of sweat coated her face and dampened the sheer material of her blouse. A scent of powerful sexual arousal rose from the recumbent woman filling Brice’s nostrils and infusing him with desire.

Emilie struggled to open her eyes. Looking up through slitted lashes she gazed in confusion at the man’s face. From far away she recalled his name and the circumstances and sat up in panic, gasping, “What did you do to me?”

Brice looked at the sated woman still slick from her sexual ecstasy, “I gave you what you wanted.”

“How?”

“Like I said, Grimm is more than a mere magician. He is capable of true magic. He bewitched you. Laid a spell upon you…whatever its’ called, I don’t know. I only know it works, or at least I hoped it would work. And it does!” Brice finished with a laugh. “I’ve never seen such passion unleashed.”

“You’re a bastard! I don’t believe any of this,” Emilie denied angrily.

“Oh, would you like to have another go, you know, just to convince you?” Brice said lightly, playfully. “I know I wouldn’t mind. Watching you stroke yourself and seeing you cum as you twisted and fought it, God! It makes me so hard.”

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

“My dear, dear Emilie,” Brice cooed pleasantly, “I only had to touch you once to set the charm. From now on, all I have to do is concentrate on what I wish you to feel, and you will feel it.” Brice stared at her hard, his dark eyes boring into her skin.

Suddenly the skin beneath her tight jeans erupted with a rush as if countless spiders were crawling all over her. “Stop it! Stop it!” she screamed thrashing her legs in fright her eyes growing wide with fear.

“It doesn’t have to be pleasure I make you feel,” Brice advised, “but it can be.” As he finished speaking the dry rasp of the spider legs disappeared. Emilie sighed in relief, briefly, until she felt her nipples being caressed as if with a feather. Slowly stroking her engorging buds as feathery light brushes tickled and teased sending shivers of delight coursing across her silky skin. Her nipples had always been sensitive and this constant arousal threatened to send her back into orgasmic torture.