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Authors: Ray Gordon

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica

BOOK: Dangerous Desires
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“This morning,” Carole replied. “I was driving along Percival Road and saw Brian with the bonnet up. Smoke was billowing from the engine.”

“God,” Annabelle breathed, realizing the power of the ritual. “I didn’t think it would work.”

“What wouldn’t work?” Carole breathed. “What do you mean?”

“Sorry, I’ve only just woken up and I’m not with it yet.”

 

34

“By the way, there’s more bad news. I tried ringing you last night and then remembered that you were going out.”

“More bad news?”

“Jenny came over last night. You know, Jenny from across the road?”

“Oh, yes, I know her.”

“Apparently, she bumped into Brian in town. He told her that you were into older men.”

“Older men?” Annabelle laughed. “I’d have to be, wouldn’t I? Married to Brian ...”

“No, I mean really old men. Brian said that you’d had several flings with men in their eighties.”


What
? For God’s sake, he must be mad.”

“We know that, Annabelle. He told Jenny that he caught you in bed with a man in his nineties.”

“I’m going to have to put a stop to this, Carole. I can’t have him spreading malicious lies like that. I was going job hunting today but I think I’ll do something about Brian instead.”

“Do what?”

“You’ll see. Look, I might call you later. Keep me posted, OK?”

“OK. Don’t do anything silly, Annabelle.”

“Of course I won’t.”

“Take care of yourself.”

“And you.”

 

Slamming the phone down, Annabelle leaped out of bed and took a shower. Brian had gone too far this time, she mused, fuming as she imagined him telling all and sundry that she’d slept with a string of men in their nineties. Towelling her curvaceous body, she sat at her 35

dressing table and dried her long black hair as she planned her attack. There was only one thing she could do, she concluded. Lay the black cloth on the floor, set out the candles and ivory symbols and ... Recalling her sister’s words, she knew that she had to be careful. It would be all too easy to do something silly.

 

Remaining naked, she made herself coffee and toast before laying the black cloth on the lounge floor. This was going to put a stop to Brian’s nonsense once and for all, she decided, still fuming as she set out the candles and ivory symbols in a circle. Left to his own devices, there was no telling what horrendous lies and rumours he’d spread. Drawing the curtains and lighting the candles, Annabelle again wondered what Brian hoped to achieve. Dave had mentioned the embittered ex syndrome, but Brian wasn’t so much embittered as insane.

 

Standing in the centre of the ring, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her ex-husband. Her mind showing her pictures of Brian in a hospital bed, she did her best to drag her thoughts away from harming him. The book had clearly stated that no harm could be done, but Annabelle wasn’t so sure. Dabbling with black magic was dangerous, and no one knew exactly what the unseen force was capable of. Imagining Brian losing his job, coupled with major problems with his car, Annabelle hoped that he’d be kept busy with his problems. He’d not have so much time to spend planning her downfall, and might even give up.

 

“You’re fired,” she breathed, picturing Brian’s boss wagging his finger. “Instant dismissal. Clear your desk and leave the building now.” Giggling, Annabelle frowned as her thoughts turned to her naked body. Looking down at the erect teats of her nipples, she ran her fingertips over the dark discs of her areola. Her hands moving down over the smooth plateau of 36

her stomach, she pinched and pulled on the sensitive flesh of her inner labia. Unable to concentrate on Brian now, she couldn’t understand why she was thinking about her vagina, imagining pushing huge objects deep into her sex sheath and abusing her young body.

 

“No,” she breathed, picturing a cucumber bloating the tight duct of her pussy. Doing her best to force the lewd image out of her mind, she slipped three fingers into her wet sex duct and massaged the creamy walls of her vagina. Unable to stop herself, she reached behind her back with her free hand and pushed a fingertip into the tight brown hole of her anus. Breathing heavily as the lewd sensations permeated her pelvis, she forced her finger deep into the burning heat of her rectal duct. Tossing her head back, she thought about pushing huge cucumbers into her tight sex sheaths, double fucking herself with the green shafts.

 

Realizing that she had no control over her actions as she drove a second finger into her tight rectum, she knew that something unseen was inciting her to commit the crude act. Her delicate anal tissue stretched tautly around her fingers, her vaginal cavern bloated, she became fearful as the room darkened and the candles flickered. An icy draught whipping around her naked body, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Something or someone was there, she knew as her fingers massaged the inner flesh of her inflamed sex holes. Something was lurking in the shadows, watching, spying.

 

The room now pitch-black, Annabelle strained her eyes to focus on an eerie green light hovering in the corner. Unable to make out what it was, she stared hard at what appeared to be swirling green mist. Trying to slip her fingers out of her sex holes and make her escape, she realized that she was unable to move. Her feet appeared to be glued to the black cloth, her naked 37

body frozen. Trembling, her heart racing, her breathing fast and shallow as she again tried to flee the room, she was gripped by cold fear.

 

“Who’s there?” she finally managed to ask as the swirling mist appeared to take on a human form. “Who is it? What do you want?” Hearing distant laughter, she grimaced as her hands involuntarily began thrusting, her fingers pistoning her painfully bloated sex sheaths.

Letting out a scream as a third finger forced its way deep into her painfully stretched rectal canal, she jumped as the phone rang. The room suddenly lighter and warmer, she withdrew her fingers from her tight ducts and leaped off the black cloth.

 

Yanking the curtains back, she ignored the phone as she blew the candles out and kicked the ivory symbols off the black cloth. That was the last time she was going to dabble with the unknown, she decided, fleeing the room and closing the door. Her heart rate slowing, her breathing steadying, she went into her bedroom and dressed in a white blouse and short turquoise skirt. The ritual worked, that was for sure. But it was too dangerous to use even to rid herself of Brian. At least Brian was a known quantity, she reflected. Insane, embittered with his twisted jealousy ... At least she knew what she was dealing with.

 

“Hello,” she murmured, pressing the receiver to her ear as the phone rang again.

“Annabelle, it’s me,” Brian said coldly.

“What do you want?” she asked irritably.

“I’ll tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want you slagging me off behind my back.”


What
?” she gasped incredulously. “You’re the one who’s been ...”

“It’s all on tape, Annabelle.”

 

38

“On tape? What the hell are you talking about?”

“You slagging me off to people. It’s all on tape.” He paused as if waiting for a reaction.

“I have an informer,” he finally announced mysteriously.

“An informer? You’re mad, Brian. I’ve never slagged you off to anyone. In fact, no one’s interested in you. No one wants to hear about you, Brian. You, us, our farcical marriage ...

People are bored with the whole thing.”

“You’ll hear the tape, Annabelle. In court!”

 

Shaking her head as he hung up, Annabelle again wondered why she’d ever married the madman.
An informer
? she mused, wondering what on earth he was trying to do now.
You’ll
hear the tape in court
? He was obviously losing the plot, she reflected. He’d lost all sense of direction in his absurd quest to get back at her. Why the hell he couldn’t accept that he was a failure, she had no idea. He’d always said that she’d be nothing without him. Now, it seemed, he was proving that
he
was nothing without
her
.

 

None of this was necessary, she thought as she went into the kitchen and filled the kettle.

There again, Brian had always engaged in futile battles. He seemed to thrive on fights. Whether they were over a parking ticket or bank charges, he had to engage in a battle and wouldn’t let go until he’d won. On the occasions when he’d lost, he’d rant and rave about the bloody bank or the fucking traffic wardens. He couldn’t seem to accept that he wasn’t always right. Recalling the time when he’d protested over bank charges, Annabelle smiled. He’d spent hours writing letters to the bank’s head office informing them that he’d not been overdrawn. He’d spent a fortune making phone calls and arguing over the charge ... It transpired that he’d got his figures wrong.

Of course, the bank employees were still fucking bastards.

 

39

Pouring a cup of coffee, Annabelle sat at the kitchen table and pondered on the ritual. The way she’d behaved with Dave the previous evening, Brian’s car breaking down, and now her involuntary abuse of her naked body ... It was a shame that she’d not been able to take control, she reflected. Had she been able to control the force, whatever it was, she might have put it to good use. The book was wrong, that was certain. The author should never have said that the ritual was safe. Wondering whether to write to him, Annabelle decided to get Dave to return the black cloth and candles to his friend. She knew that, all the time they were in the house, she’d be tempted to have another go.

 

Hearing the post arrive, she went to the front door and picked up the letters. “What the hell ...” she murmured, reading one from Brian’s solicitor. “If you continue to defame my client, we will have no choice other than to consider taking you to court ...” Screwing the letter up, Annabelle stormed back into the kitchen and threw it in the bin. Leaning on the table, she tried to calm herself. “Bastard,” she breathed, banging the table with her clenched fist. “Fucking bastard.”

 

She’d known that Brian wasn’t right in his head, but this proved that he was completely mad. Annabelle hadn’t mentioned him to anyone, let alone defamed him. Apart from her sister and Dave, she’d not spoken to anyone about her ex-husband.
It’s all on tape
? she mused, shaking her head as she again realized that he was going to have to be stopped. There
was
no tape, no informer ... Brian was obviously off on one of his mental trips yet again, she reflected. This was the very reason she’d left him. His peculiar mental ways, his freakish mannerisms ... Thanking God that she no longer lived with him, she wondered whether she’d ever be completely free of him.

 

40

Walking into the lounge, she stared at the black cloth, the candles, the ivory symbols strewn about the room. The ritual was the only way, she knew as she gathered up the symbols and placed them on the cloth. Dangerous or not, the ritual was the only way to be rid of her insane ex-husband.

 

41

Chapter Three

nnabelle sat on the sofa gazing at the flickering candles as she recalled the eerie green A light. She didn’t know what to do as she pondered on Brian. Cause him terrible harm?

No, she couldn’t hate anyone, not even her ex-husband. The power of the ritual had to be tested thoroughly, she decided. The potential, the limitations ... She had to know exactly what she could and couldn’t achieve. She had to discover what the misty green light was. A ghostly form? Monsters?

 

For all she knew, Dave might have read the book and was playing on the ritual to have his wicked way with her. Brian’s car might have been heading for a breakdown before she’d thought of the idea. Of course, if he was sacked from his job ... She’d just have to wait for news of that. And the green light? She must have imagined it, she consoled herself. There was no such thing as ghosts, was there? Or monsters.

 

Slipping out of her clothes, she drew the curtains and lit the candles. Although she’d vowed not to dabble with the unknown again, she couldn’t help herself. Whether it was her need to be rid of Brian that was driving her on or her increasing desire to enjoy crude sex with Dave, she couldn’t be sure. Perhaps it was a combination of both, she concluded, standing on the black cloth. She wasn’t aware of thinking about anything in particular as she looked down at the candles. Her mind drifting, she wondered whether to move away from the area. She then thought about finding a job.

 

42

Reaching down, Annabelle grabbed a candle and blew the flame out. Examining the waxen shaft, she found herself thinking about forcing the huge phallus deep into the tight sheath of her young pussy. Sex hadn’t been on her mind when she’d stepped onto the black cloth, but now her thoughts centred on the tight holes between her shapely thighs. Aware that she was somehow being influenced as she slipped the flat end of the candle between the fleshy pads of her outer labia, she looked around the dimly-lit room.

 

“Who’s there?” she asked, sure that someone was lurking in the shadows. Her fingers feeding the length of the candle into her tight vaginal throat, she knew that she again had no control over her actions. She realized that it wasn’t something influencing her mind, but her hand. As she drove the wax candle deep into her tight vagina until the end pressed hard against the soft hardness of her ripe cervix, she was sure that she was being physically influenced.

 

Unable to step off the black cloth, she decided not to fight whatever it was but wait and see what happened. She wasn’t so much fearful as intrigued as her hand slipped the sex-wet candle out of her pussy and pushed the end into her anal gully. Pressing the phallus hard against the delicate brown tissue surrounding her rectal hole, her hand twisted the wax shaft, trying to ease the candle into her tight anal canal. Was some unseen entity deriving pleasure from abusing her naked body? she pondered as the wax shaft glided along her rectum. Or was her subconscious playing tricks on her?

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