The Voyeur (11 page)

With her heart hammering as if it was going to break free from her ribcage, Clara felt Craig’s palms rotate over her tits. Her arms were struggling not to come to his strong shoulders; her hands fought not to race toward his, and her hips twitched. It didn’t matter that he was an arrogant sod. It just mattered that her body needed a fuck.

Abruptly, as if reading Clara’s unspoken thoughts, Craig stepped away, took hold of Anya’s tethered wrists and pulled, dragging her along until her bare back was scratching against the wooden boards of the shed wall. Then he took hold of Clara and shoved her against her partner, so that the housekeeper’s naked backside was pushed directly into Anya’s skirted crotch, her swollen chest buffing against Clara’s back.

‘Do – not – move.’ The cricket captain spoke each word with an edgy deliberation that brooked no argument. As he lost his remaining clothes with total confidence in his physique, Clara hated him even more, but not as much as she lusted after him. Not as much as she was treacherously enjoying the warmth of Anya’s chest and legs behind her.

Fishing in his discarded jeans pocket, Craig pulled out his mobile phone and a condom. The latter was rolled into place with impressive speed; the phone was propped in front of Mark’s camera, and the video function engaged.

‘Insurance, girls.’ Craig pressed his full weight against Clara, his hands snaking between the women and grabbing Clara’s buttocks, gripping them so hard his nails dug into her fleshy cheeks; his knuckles pointing into Anya’s hips, her presence nothing more than convenient cushioning.

Insurance against what? The thought lingered on at the edge of Clara’s mind as Craig’s teeth scraped her neck, catching every nerve in her throat and chest. The sound of Anya’s laboured breathing behind her only increased the urgency of her personal cravings, as Clara’s mind shut off from who she was with, and merely operated on a physical level.

Levering Clara up onto the balls of her feet, yanking her forward so that his sheathed cock was notched at the opening of her channel, Craig took a firm hold of her hips and thrust. He bellowed in angry satisfaction, making Clara’s whole frame thrill with erotic bliss at the feel of his length within her.

Craig’s shaft filled her so completely. His musky aroma was intoxicating as he rhythmically rammed her back against Anya, using Clara’s hipbones as if they were merely handles by which to shag himself to oblivion.

Clara’s body, so honed to take advantage of even the mildest stimulation, felt as if it was going to overload. Every pump forced her back onto Anya. The sensation of her girl’s nipples against her back, and the thought of the wetness of Anya’s crotch beneath her work skirt and knickers, triggered Clara’s orgasm as Craig continued to use her for his private pleasure.

Continuing to pump long after he’d come, Craig only withdrew from Clara once he was convinced that Anya had been thoroughly spanked via her lover’s backside.

Finally pushing Clara to one side, Craig removed the sodden rag from the PA’s mouth. Retching as Craig stuffed a sports bottle of water between her lips, Anya gulped gratefully at the ice-cold liquid. She didn’t care that the majority of it missed her mouth altogether, and was cascading down her raw breasts, making her wince as it hit her chafed nipples.

Clara came to her lover’s side, and bravely asked Craig, ‘Why?’

Craig’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the question. ‘Parker isn’t the only one with fantasies, and anyway Anya and I have unfinished business.’ Then he picked up his phone, pulled on his clothes, and, with a meaningful stare at the still bound Anya, left with the words, ‘You
don’t
tell your boss. You say nothing.
Nothing
at all.’

Even by the usual standards of constant sexual tension within Parker Software’s headquarters, the atmosphere in the dining room that evening as Mark met with his staff rippled with an extra undercurrent of uncertainty.

Mark addressed Anya first. ‘Did you complete the necessary arrangements with Candice for my trip to the US in the summer?’

‘Yes, Mark. Everything is in order.’

Anya felt as if he could tell from her over-cheerful expression that she had been forced to rush through her work in the latter half of the day, while her body remained sore and unfulfilled after her harsh treatment at Craig’s hands.

‘Good.’ Her employer gave her a piercing stare before turning his attention to the housekeeper. ‘I have seen the video that Craig recorded in the shed.’ Mark paused for a moment; the silence that filled the room was as deafening as a scream. Finally, as the quiet became oppressive, he continued, ‘It was a rather short film. Those boys had obviously seen something in that shed to turn them on – very fast.’

Careful to keep her expression level, pondering if Mark already knew what Craig had done, or if the students had spoken to him about what happened in the shed, Clara said, ‘I’m sorry, I simply did what the cricket captain told me to do.’ Somehow Clara couldn’t bring herself to use Craig’s name.

‘I have no doubt you obeyed him to the letter.’ Mark sounded sincere, and the women relaxed for a fraction of a second, until he added, ‘Although I was very surprised that he didn’t fuck you himself. You are, as the students’ speedy performance testifies, a very attractive and sexually skilled woman, Clara.’

Clara thought swiftly. Should she confess that Craig had used her for sex; or do as the captain wanted, and say nothing? Deciding to take the middle line – not lie to her employer, but not share the whole truth either – Clara said, ‘He did, Mark. I was surprised when he turned off your camera. I assumed you’d given him permission.’

Mark’s eyes narrowed shrewdly, as he thought for a minute before he spoke. ‘It is OK, Clara. If Craig decided to screw you, then you had no choice in the matter. I guessed he’d take advantage of the situation.’ Mark became quiet again for a moment, before asking, ‘Did he say anything to you, Clara?’

‘He told me not to tell you about the sex.’

‘And I imagine Craig implied that something might happen to you if you did tell me?’

‘That was the impression he gave me, but I
had
to tell you.’

A light seemed to shine in Mark’s eyes. ‘Thank you, Clara. Your loyalty has never been in question. I assume Craig has some proof of this extra sex?’

‘On his phone.’

‘Thank you for your honesty, Clara.’

Clara smiled at her employer, but she was unable to stop deliberating if she should have told him the complete truth and not just a partial version.

Changing the subject, Mark got up from his chair, his red pen magically to hand. ‘Shirts off and face the wall, please.’

The women obeyed, making sure that they were facing away from their employer before their tops were removed, hiding the evidence of Anya’s abused chest for as long as possible.

His pen swept across their lists in a steady stroke, striking through the tasks they had recently completed for a second time. ‘Your performances are improving, but you must do better. Again, I must impress upon you how important a good showing at Fantasy 13 is.’

Mark paced round his side of the table ‘Time is running out.’ He spoke with deliberate measure, as if deciding how much to tell them. ‘The next 48 hours are critical to the success of Fantasy 13. I know you appreciate exactly how vital this is to me. I hope it is to you as well.’

The girls’ combined “Yes, Mark” came out in perfect unison.

With a firm hand on each of their right shoulders, Mark twisted Anya and Clara to face him. His gaze fell upon the four delicious breasts lined up in a row in front of him.

Anya tensed a little, knowing it was impossible for her boss to miss the flushed, sore patches that lingered around her large areolas.

Mark said nothing about it; however, his tone was serious, bordering on the grave, as he said, ‘You will have worked out from what has gone before, that you have one more of my challenges to face again, and then Fantasy 13 can begin. This final challenge is a complex scenario. You will not be told when it has begun.’

If the employees had thought they were tense before, it was nothing to how they felt now. It was as if the enhanced frisson of sexual uncertainty that had seeped into the room had coiled like a serpent with their usual erotic curiosity. A curiosity they were beginning to fear as much as desire.

‘So –’ Mark began to pace again ‘– we understand each other, yes?’

‘Yes.’ Both girls replied automatically, although neither really knew what was going on, as they became increasingly nonplussed by Mark’s lack of concentration.

Expecting him to explain more about Fantasy 13, or at least instruct them to do something there and then, the women were taken by surprise when he said, ‘I have a call to make. I will see you in the kitchen in one hour for the retake of Fantasy 10. You are dismissed for now.’ And with that he left them open-mouthed, half-naked, and bewildered in the corner of the dining room.

‘Sparrow!’ Mark spoke the name of Bridge’s manager down the phone with a venom that positively hissed from his throat.

‘You seem irked, Mr Parker.’ Dr Sparrow had been expecting the call ever since his oversexed cricket captain had reported back to him about his visit to Parker Software’s headquarters that morning.

‘What the hell is Craig playing at?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ The manager kept his voice steady as he lied down the line. He understood Mark’s annoyance all too well. He had been torn between fury at Craig’s blatant breaking of their gentleman’s agreement, and a feeling of arousal each time he thought about the video he’d seen courtesy of Craig’s phone.

‘You may sound innocent, Sparrow, and I have no doubt it serves your interests well that Craig believes he has a hold over my girls, but I must assure you it will take more than the intimidation of one arrogant man to affect the outcome of Fantasy 13.’

‘I don’t know what has rattled you, Mark, but I must remind you that if you change your mind now, then Anya will be returned to us anyway. You signed the paperwork. It may be highly unusual, not to mention unethical, but it
is
legal.’

Angry with himself for letting his anger show, Mark gathered himself together. ‘I am well aware of the situation, thank you. I am just questioning whether or not Craig is? It might be wise to remind him that there is such a thing as overconfidence. Good day to you, Dr Sparrow.’

Chapter Twelve

The hour between Mark leaving the dining room and their appointment in the kitchen had passed painfully slowly. The girls had gone round in conversational circles. Even though they had no doubt that Fantasy 13 was liable to be the toughest challenge of their lives it wasn’t that which worried them most. It was what came afterwards.

It was Anya who first voiced their unspoken concern as they sat, side by side, on the short sofa in their dressing room. ‘What will Mark do with us after Fantasy 13?’

‘He’ll still need a PA and a housekeeper, honey.’ Clara had soothed her lover’s irritated chest with arnica, trying to sound more reassured than she felt.

‘But if he has taken us as far as we can go – what then? Once his list is complete, isn’t it more likely that he’ll want new blood? New women to carry out his new list of dream sex scenarios?’

Clara had sighed, ‘I don’t know, Anya, but something weird is happening – even by this household’s standards. Do you think we should have told him about Craig taking you to the shed?’

‘I am sure he already knows. Mark always knows.’

Now, as they waited, still dressed in just their jeans, they perched on the edge of the scrubbed kitchen table, trying to remain calm. They knew what Fantasy 10 entailed – at least, they knew what it had entailed the previous time. That had been hard enough.

Anya was about to ask Clara yet again if she really did think Mark would keep them on after his list was complete, when the man in question walked into the kitchen. Alert for signs of the tension and hesitation that had shaded his expression an hour earlier, the girls watched their employer carefully. Mark, however, seemed his normal self. His notebook was in his hand, and his shining eyes held their usual promise of extreme erotic education.

He placed the book reverently onto the counter, while instructing Clara to remove her remaining clothes, and Anya to come to his side.

With the familiar feeling of rising physical excitement, Anya saw her girl’s goddess-like body emerge. She was sure Clara’s stomach was already churning in anticipation. Not for the first time Anya reflected on how clever Mark was to make them do these challenges again; with the knowledge of how tough each one could be, another dimension of expectation was added to the experience, inevitably making them even harder to perform successfully.

Just as he had when they’d worked this task only a few weeks ago, Mark produced a small tube of lube from his trouser pocket, and handed it to Anya. ‘You know what to do.’

Clara, seeing Anya approach with the gel, exhaled short bursts of air to help keep herself under control. Leaning over the table top, she widened her legs and pressed her naked chest against the unyielding pine surface. Clutching the far side of the table with her outstretched hands, Clara closed her eyes as Anya placed the nozzle of the tube against the entrance of her arse and squeezed.

A jet of gloppy, cold liquid shot against her anus, making Clara flinch. This was swiftly followed by Anya’s finger, working its way through the gel, easing it deeper and deeper into her partner’s tightest orifice.

Regulating her breathing, mentally repeating to herself that she
could
take this, Clara forced herself to think about how good it would be once the initial intrusion had passed. In the meantime, she laboured not to groan out loud, assuming that, like in the original Fantasy 10, she was not permitted to make any noise.

Allowing Anya to take her time, Mark kept his eyes fixed on the movement of his PA’s right index finger as it rhythmically disappeared and reappeared from his housekeeper’s anus, each stroke taking in a little extra lube. Observing the preparation of Clara’s rump, he smiled. Her matt, porcelain skin gradually began to shine as Anya added more and more lube, spreading it across her entire backside.

Mark’s cock twitched in his jeans, dulling the anxiety he hoped he was now hiding, telling himself resolutely that if his girls could withstand this again, as they had all the previous fantasies, then they could succeed in Fantasy 13 –and all would be well.

‘Enough.’ Mark’s voice took on the husky edge which reassured the girls that he was enjoying what he saw.

Drawing out her finger, Anya washed her hands while Mark took a step closer to Clara, crouching so his eye level was on a par with her anus, watching closely as it continued to pucker, even though the probing digit had been withdrawn.

Anya paused. Last time they’d played this game Mark had passed her a small, thin butt-plug, which she had manoeuvred into Clara before replacing it with a longer one, and then a slightly thicker one, until the housekeeper was stretched as far as possible, her vow to remain quiet as she was impaled broken by the pressure against her then virgin arse. This time, in line with all the fantasies they had replayed, Anya expected there to be something harsher. She was right.

Opening a cupboard, reaching to the very back, her employer pulled out a black drawstring bag. Anya was glad that Clara could not see what Mark extracted from its depths.

He said nothing as he dangled the new toy in front of Anya’s eyes. Two silver cylinders, about half an inch wide and an inch long, were attached together by a strong, thin, black cord. The PA swallowed as she smeared a dollop of lube over the first silver bullet, surprised at how heavy it was, all too aware how full Clara’s back passage was about to get.

On Mark’s signal, Anya lined up the first cylinder, almost wincing in sympathy with Clara as she cajoled it into the slippery, gelled channel.

Clara’s eyes shot open as the cold metal entered her. Clamping her jaw together, she bit into her lips, her eyes watering; a patina of perspiration dotted her back. Whatever was being pushed within her was far more cumbersome than anything her muscles had previously coped with. As her fingernails clawed into the table, Clara knew she was only seconds away from screaming, when suddenly, the item was inside her, her arsehole closing neatly over it, leaving her unbelievably full, with a heavy weight dragging down in the depths of her bowels.

Allowing the shocked Clara a few moments to gasp for air, Anya then began to push the string that connected the two bullets inside her channel as well. Mark stepped nearer, not wanting to miss a second as his housekeeper desperately struggled to remain still and silent in the face of such an invasion. His pride in his girls swelled within him, and he mutely willed her on as, with a moan of her own, Anya inserted the second pod. Clara’s arse widened as if it might split, but again narrowed quickly once the metal was inside her, like a hungry mouth ready to devour anything it was offered.

Mark hadn’t been prepared for how he’d feel when he saw the long, black cord sticking out of the blonde’s backside. She appeared to have sprouted a mouse or rat’s tail. His erection banged at the insides of his denims, and for the first time in a long while he knew he was going to have to take some direct action of his own right there and then, rather than hanging on until he was back in his study, alone, watching the video playback in private.

Walking around to Clara’s face, Mark lifted her head up by the hair, staring hard into her clouded blue eyes, noting the soundless tears that streaked her cheeks. ‘You’re like a rodent. You have a tail.’ He looked toward Anya, who hovered behind her lover, her swollen chest rising and falling, her own arousal in line with her employer’s. ‘Pull her tail a little, Anya. Let Clara feel how it hangs from her.’

Anya tugged gently, feeling the silver cylinders shift a little within Clara, who could no longer refrain from issuing a thin, white-lipped groan.

‘You made a noise, Clara.’ Mark spoke as if he was disappointed in her, although he secretly marvelled at how she hadn’t broken before. ‘I was going to get Anya to pull the bullets out, but now I think you should experience their burden a little longer.’

The housekeeper closed her eyes again, half wanting to feel the toy move again and take her closer to climax, and half terrified, in case they did move and she lost control.

‘In the meantime, Anya, I would like you to strip off and position yourself next to Clara.’

Anya blinked; she thought perhaps she had misheard- but she hadn’t.

‘Come on, I know you like a bit of anal play,’ Mark continued. ‘Obviously it was just Clara who was plugged last time, but I don’t want to leave you out.’

Doing as she was told, her head already full of what was about to happen to her, Anya wished she hadn’t seen the nature of the toy now nestled in Clara’s velvet opening. Even more, she wished she didn’t know how cold and heavy it was. She cursed Mark’s preference for psychological power games, her heart thudded against the wood, her boobs aching as they were squashed against the table.

‘Stand up, please, Clara.’

With the utmost care, Clara raised herself. Every move made her anus suck and grab at the silver pods. Mark studied her sweat-drenched neck and chest, and was surprised to find he didn’t want to just examine her from afar. He was consumed with the desire to lick the perspiration from her body. The level of his need for some sort of tactile sensation shocked him, and he had to concentrate very hard on passing a fresh tube of lubricant to Clara, so that she could grease up her lover for the game ahead.

Clara found it difficult to focus, her fingers more clumsy than careful as she manipulated the redhead’s arse. With each tiny shuffle of her feet, she could feel the end of her “tail” brush and tease the back of her legs and sticky butt cheeks, causing fresh shivers of lust to bounce between her tits and her clit.

Anya could not relax. She knew she was making it worse for herself, but as Clara’s fingers probed at her, preparing her for what was to come, all she could picture was how big and heavy the bullets were. She kept telling herself that Mark might have other plans, that some other toy could be heading her way, but still she couldn’t quieten her body and un-tense her legs.

Finally ready to take the tool Mark was impatiently holding out to her, Clara greased it up with lube. Now she knew what was inside her, Clara felt hornier than ever. Blanking the urge to push out her own plug, Clara put on extra gel, and jammed the first silver cylinder inside Anya, willing her to remain silent.

Almost gagging against the weight of her full backside, feeling as though she might disgrace herself at any moment, Anya breathed slowly as she awaited the arrival of the second pod. Grateful that Clara wasn’t hanging around, Anya felt the next part of the toy press at her anus, and silently cried out in discomfort as it stretched her wide, before gobbling up the intruder, feeling it give a clit-quaking metallic clunk as it hit its already positioned counterpart.

Once both girls had rat’s tails hanging from their butts, Mark let out a long, low whistle of appreciation as he said, ‘Stand, Anya.’

Wobbling, the PA rose and moved next to Clara. Walking around them both, Mark’s fingers played with the strings that dangled from them, each touch sending hot shocks through his females.

‘You look like animals, so I think I should treat you like animals.’ Mark grasped both women by the crotch, squeezing his palms over them, making them forget about the no sound rule, as they made noises which could indeed be called animalistic. ‘Get on all fours.’

Not daring to argue, they fell to the tiled floor, landing on their hands and knees, their new tails swinging behind them, their tits swaying.

‘You are like two puppies. Two bitches.’ Mark’s words caught in this throat, his own desire so high he could barely speak as he observed his obedient staff, ‘Anya, service Clara.’

Shuffling so that she was directly behind Clara, Anya began to sniff and lick at her arse. Knocking her back legs as wide as possible, Anya nuzzled her face against Clara’s crotch, as she had seen dogs do to each other in the park.

Clara’s moans turned to mewls. She began to worry that, if Anya kept that up, she would lose control and come, causing the plugs to drop, and earn herself some punishment.

The housekeeper’s concern was lessened slightly as Anya moved her attention north. Creeping on all fours, so she was side on to Clara, Anya crawled under her lover to suckle at the little chest that hung so invitingly.

Mark hurriedly wrote something in his notebook, before flinging it to one side with uncharacteristic carelessness. Then, scrabbling with his zip-fly, he drew his cock free. Consumed with their own pleasure, the women did not notice Mark begin to masturbate his swollen shaft over them.

As Mark observed Anya’s arse sway while she worked, and Clara’s butt shake as she was lapped to distraction, their tails swinging erratically back and forth, for the first time since he had employed them, the actions he’d instructed them to perform for him were truly too much.

Without stopping to think, Mark shook off his trousers and boxers, knelt behind Clara, and rammed himself inside her. Her cry of surprise at this unexpected double penetration morphed into a guttural sigh of happiness as her master filled her. Then Clara cried out as his pressure against her butt sent surges of discomfort through her arse – a hot, biting pain that connected and mingled with the joy of having a dick within her. Mark’s dick – for the very first time.

Thrusting, Mark could feel the presence of the silver bullets through the thin lining that divided Clara’s back from her front. His initial lust calming a little, he was suddenly aware of what he was doing. Grabbing a shocked and disorientated Anya by the chin, he pulled her close, kissing her intensely.

The feeling of exclusion that had risen in Anya’s thoroughly aroused flesh, as her boss screwed Clara and not her, died as quickly as it had arrived. Anya was confused at Mark’s change of tactic, but delighted by it.

Moving closer to him, she lifted herself up onto her haunches like an obedient puppy rising to its master for praise. A master who pinched at her nipples with one hand, his other keeping a firm grasp on Clara’s hips. Then, letting go of Anya, keeping his body amazingly steady, Mark twiddled Clara’s tail between his fingers, as he rested on his knees, his dick remaining firmly between his housekeeper’s legs.