The Black Room (3 page)

The doctor’s fingers traced slow circles on the soft flesh of Kelly’s orbs, gently stimulating the tactile skin with her subtle caress. Her smile, although not unkind, was predatory enough to make Kelly feel acutely vulnerable. ‘Relax a little,’ the doctor encouraged once again. ‘You’re going to enjoy this. Trust me.’

Laid on the trolley, having witnessed Mistress Stacey’s punishment of Helen and then endured the doctor’s harsh, invasive questioning, Kelly did not feel relaxed enough to enjoy anything. All she wanted was to get the physical aspect of the examination over and done with, regardless of what it entailed. Afterwards she could shut herself in the confines of her own room and try to analyse the bizarre attraction she was feeling for other women. She glanced downwards, trying to convince herself that the doctor’s touch had only been accidental. Seeing the woman’s fingers casually caressing her right breast, tracing circles around the darkening areola, Kelly realised the touch had been no accident. She took a sharp intake of breath. ‘You’re tou…touching me,’ she said awkwardly.

The doctor smiled easily. ‘Yes,’ she admitted, not moving her hand away. ‘You do like it, don’t you?’

Totally unsure of her opinions and her body’s mutinous responses, Kelly did not trust herself to respond to the question. ‘Is this part of the examination?’ she asked, struggling to sound indignant and failing miserably.

‘Sort of,’ Doctor McMahon said. She placed a finger on either side of Kelly’s nipple and tweaked it playfully.

Unwittingly, Kelly found herself enjoying a thrill of pleasure she had not anticipated. The sensation was so intense a shiver coursed through her entire body. She stared at the doctor, unsure of how to respond. Without knowing when it had started, Kelly realised her breathing had deepened.

‘The best part of the examination is still to come,’ Doctor McMahon said softly, rolling the nipple playfully between her fingers. Her hand cupped Kelly’s breast and caressed the sensitive flesh with a measured degree of care. Her fingers were cool against Kelly’s warm skin but the silky touch of the doctor’s palms created a friction that was intense enough to generate its own heat.

Kelly heard herself moan softly in appreciation. Whatever the reason for her sudden loss of inhibitions, she knew that now was not the time to contemplate it. The pleasure she was receiving from the doctor’s touch was something so exciting and new she was prepared to enjoy it now and think about it later. She glanced nervously at the doctor and was surprised to see the petite nurse peering lecherously over her shoulder.

Noticing Kelly’s attention was distracted, the doctor moved her hand away and turned to the nurse. ‘Is that what you found?’ she asked crisply.

‘Yes, doctor,’ the nurse replied timidly.

Kelly could not see what they were talking about but she felt an unsettling thrill of trepidation at the doctor’s curt tone. A tiny butterfly fluttered nervously in the pit of her stomach, enhancing the darkly erotic flavour of her arousal. She tried to surreptitiously shift her position and see what the pair were discussing.

‘You’ve done well,’ the doctor told the nurse stiffly. Turning to Kelly, she said, ‘This was found in your handbag. Would you mind telling me why you have it?’

Kelly felt her face darken with embarrassment as she stared at the small phallus in the doctor’s hand. She did not need an explanation to know that it was the same one she kept in her handbag. At the back of her mind she knew she should have been outraged by the unauthorised search. However, her inner confusion and a wave of mortified shame seemed to cloud all other thoughts. ‘I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to have one,’ she said quietly. ‘I…’

‘That doesn’t answer my question,’ Doctor McMahon snapped. She reached across Kelly’s prone, naked body and carelessly teased her left nipple. Her touch was deft and Kelly’s response was an instantaneous sigh of delight. ‘Why do you have it?’ Doctor McMahon repeated.

‘I use it sometimes,’ Kelly replied meekly, unable to meet the doctor’s gaze as she spoke.

‘You use it,’ the doctor repeated. She stroked her hand over the flat, smooth expanse of Kelly’s stomach. The tactile stimulation was incredibly erotic and Kelly felt herself trembling with anticipation. ‘Show me how you use it,’ the doctor said, whispering the words softly into Kelly’s ear. ‘Show me.’ She placed the dildo in Kelly’s hand and tried to wrap her fingers around it.

‘What if I refuse?’ Kelly asked.

‘You won’t,’ the doctor replied confidently. She placed her fingers under Kelly’s chin and tilted her head so the two women were able to enjoy eye contact. ‘During your induction Mr Smith will have told you that disobedient and recalcitrant behaviour is not tolerated here at the hostel.’

Staring into the unfathomable depths of the doctor’s jet-black eyes, Kelly remembered Mr Smith’s austere introduction to the hostel, earlier that morning. She suddenly felt cold as she realised how gravely she had misunderstood his words about the hostel’s strict regime and its disciplined environment.

‘I don’t know if you’ve already heard of the black room,’ the doctor continued easily. ‘But it’s the sort of last resort that I don’t think you want to experience just yet.’

Kelly remembered Stacey’s whispered threat to Helen in the waiting room. The woman had only mentioned the black room to her and Helen had trembled with fear. Whatever the black room was, Kelly had already decided she did not want to encounter it. Reluctantly, she allowed her fingers to accept the dildo.

‘That’s better,’ Doctor McMahon enthused cheerfully, allowing her hand to work casually down to the neatly trimmed triangle of wiry orange hairs around Kelly’s pubic mound. ‘Now, I’m sure you know what to do with it,’ she encouraged.

Feeling her face burn crimson with shame, Kelly closed her eyes and took the dildo in both hands. She felt the familiar modest length and girth with her fingers, trying not to think of what she was doing. Deftly, she twisted the hard plastic base all the way around. The dildo buzzed wickedly. The sound reverberated deafeningly in the quiet confines of the doctor’s room. Feeling more exposed than she had ever felt before, Kelly directed the vibrator between her legs. Normally, before pressing the instrument into herself she would have spread the lips of her vagina apart. This time, before she had a chance to open herself, she felt a pair of fingers doing that task for her. The feeling was so sudden and unexpected she opened her eyes and stared down between her legs.

Doctor McMahon graced Kelly with a knowing smile, then turned her concentration back to the hand she had in Kelly’s lap.

The feeling of the woman’s fingers pressed against her vulva was an unprecedented stimulation. Whilst Kelly still felt embarrassed to be performing such an intimate act in front of a complete stranger, the doctor’s gentle touch was disturbingly arousing. As she slid the merrily buzzing dildo into the open folds of her labia Kelly was poignantly aware of her heightened arousal. The plastic tingled on her exposed flesh in a wave of stimulation that felt delicious. She paused before pushing it any further inside, enjoying the myriad delightful prickles of pleasure to their fullest. She found herself staring into the doctor’s face as the first wave of pleasure rolled through her. It seemed unreal to be focusing on the face of another woman whilst she was masturbating but Kelly realised she had not just come to terms with the situation: she was actually loving it.

The first orgasm coursed through her body as she plunged the buzzing dildo deep within the warm folds of her moist pussy lips. She had enjoyed stronger orgasms in the past but because of the bizarre circumstances surrounding this one she did not think she would ever have one as memorable. Gasping breathlessly at the ease of her own climax, she stared into the doctor’s smiling face.

‘Please, continue, Kelly,’ Doctor McMahon insisted. She allowed her fingers to playfully stroke around Kelly’s hole before moving her hand beneath the vibrator. Kelly was startled to feel one of the doctor’s fingers slide rudely between the cheeks of her buttocks and into the forbidden warmth of her anus.

‘Relax,’ Doctor McMahon whispered coolly, allowing her tongue to tickle the sensitive flesh of Kelly’s neck. ‘You’ll enjoy it so much more if you relax.’

Wordlessly, Kelly tried to follow the doctor’s instruction as she slid the length of plastic slowly in and out of herself. The whirring sound in the room intensified and then muted as the dildo was pulled out and then pushed into the tight depths of her hole. Kelly felt the tingling increase as the vibrator filled her, sparking a wealth of dizzying pleasure. On its own, she knew the dildo would have been enough to make her climax again. Coupled with the delightfully taboo sensation of the doctor’s finger playing in her anus, Kelly felt herself rushing towards another orgasm with unnerving alacrity.

As the rush of pleasure filled every pore of her body, Kelly’s back arched upward. She pushed the dildo so deep into her pussy she could feel the tip tingling perfectly on the neck of her womb. The doctor slid her finger slowly in and out of Kelly’s anus, creating a frisson of unimagined delight. She was perversely aware of feeling fuller than she had ever felt before and as the doctor slid a second finger alongside the first, Kelly groaned blissfully.

With her other hand, the doctor was attending to Kelly’s breasts, alternating between careful caresses and punishingly playful pinches. The contrary sensations were infuriatingly well timed, hastening Kelly’s ascent to the brink of orgasm.

When the orgasm struck, she shrieked ecstatically. Her pelvis bucked forward, as though her crevice was greedily trying to accept even more of the dildo. She felt the inner muscles of her pussy squeezing on the phallus with a familiar, furious tightening. A hazy red mist of joy clouded her vision and with a groan of agonised pleasure, Kelly collapsed limply on the trolley.

Several moments passed before she dared to open her eyes. When she did, Kelly found herself staring into the knowing smile of Doctor McMahon. She wondered briefly if she had passed out with the intensity of her climax. The doctor was now wearing her lab coat once again and Kelly could not recall feeling the woman remove the two fingers she had been employing so skilfully.

Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to meet the doctor’s, warily anticipating a look of staunch disapproval. She was surprised to see the woman smiling indulgently down at her. Her surprise increased when the doctor reached between Kelly’s legs and slowly withdrew the dildo. It was still buzzing and she quickly unscrewed the switch with well-practised ease. Kelly felt her embarrassment return as she realised the vibrator was slick with the remnants of her glistening love juice. It did not temper her unease when she watched the doctor slowly lick pussy juice from the implement.

The broad grin she graced Kelly with was wanton and avaricious. Her dark eyes sparkled merrily. ‘Welcome to the Pentagon Agency, Kelly.’ Doctor McMahon smiled easily. ‘I do believe you’re just the sort of woman we’re looking for.’

Kelly closed her eyes and sighed, hoping fervently that she was doing the right thing.

Jo Valentine flicked the double-headed sovereign high in the air. She watched it catch the occasional golden ray of sunlight on its upward spiral, then caught it halfway through its descent. Her reactions were lightning fast and she smacked the coin swiftly on to the careworn surface of her desk. Surreptitiously, she raised her hand and risked a supposedly nervous glance at the result.

‘Is it tails?’ Stephanie asked eagerly. She stared at Jo with a beseeching, hopeful gaze.

Jo smiled sadly. ‘Heads, I’m afraid.’ She shook her head, trying to look unhappy about the result. ‘Could you take your blouse off?’

Stephanie sighed unhappily. She cast a glance towards the frosted glass on the office door and then looked hesitantly at Jo. ‘What if someone comes in?’

Jo laughed humourlessly. ‘I suppose there’s a first time for everything,’ she said cynically. ‘If a customer actually came through the door I’d want to shoot it, mount it and stick its head on the wall. The only thing stopping me would be the fact that they’re an endangered species.’

‘It has been quiet lately, hasn’t it?’ Stephanie ventured.

Jo glanced slyly at her. ‘Stop changing the subject and take your blouse off,’ she said pointedly. ‘Are you calling tails again?’

Stephanie shook her head as she began to unfasten her blouse with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. ‘Let’s try cutting the deck of cards again,’ she suggested. ‘I seem to have more luck with that.’

Jo barely heard Stephanie’s last words, mesmerised as always by the vision of her undressing. Stephanie was a petite blonde with an infrequent smile and large, expressive brown eyes. She always managed to look so frail and vulnerable that Jo felt torn between an urge to protect her, and a longing to corrupt her. Invariably, Jo found herself cautiously attempting the latter, her eagerness to possess Stephanie tempered by a strong fear of rejection.

As always, Stephanie wore jet-black underwear, a colour that contrasted starkly with her delicate wan complexion. She eased the blouse off slowly, revealing her modest orbs in their black-satin confines.

Jo stifled a breath of delight, unwilling to show her arousal to Stephanie. In Jo’s opinion, her business partner had to be the most desirable creature she had ever encountered. Stephanie was not just pretty and blessed with a gorgeous body. She also had a pleasant, pragmatic personality that Jo found truly stimulating. At the back of her mind she wondered if she was in love with Stephanie or simply suffering from the effects of unrequited lust. Not given to great bouts of introspection, Jo had never troubled herself too greatly with the matter. Instead she had contented herself with various games and ploys to undress Stephanie. Her most cherished hope was that one day Stephanie would read the obvious signs and confess feeling the same about Jo.

She wondered idly if she should have changed the rules to the stripping game. Rather than the loser taking her own clothes off, Jo wondered if the winner should be allowed the privilege. It was a tempting idea and she did not know which aspect of it appealed to her the most. The thought of slowly removing garment after garment from Stephanie’s pliant waiflike body was truly intoxicating. However, the idea of being undressed by Stephanie was even more enthralling. In her mind’s eye Jo had summoned a mental picture of Stephanie’s small, elegant hands teasing buttons from their holes. So vivid was the mental image, she could almost feel the tender, innocent brush of Stephanie’s fingers against her bare flesh. Lost in her own heady reverie, Jo was unaware that Stephanie was speaking to her.

‘Well?’ Stephanie asked patiently.

Jo shook her head and tried to pull her gaze from Stephanie’s body. ‘Sorry, Steph,’ she said, a wry smile twisting her lips. ‘I was just thinking how nice it would be to have boobs like yours.’

Stephanie frowned. ‘Don’t you like your own?’

‘I don’t mind mine,’ Jo replied. ‘I’d just love to have a pair of boobs like yours,’ she added wistfully. ‘God, would I love that.’

‘Cut the cards,’ Stephanie said tiredly, pushing the deck towards Jo.

‘You go first,’ Jo insisted. ‘Aces low, high wins.’ She watched as Stephanie leant over the deck and cut herself a ten. Jo ran her thumb carefully along the edge of the cards, allowing it to stop on the slightly bent queen of diamonds.

‘You have the luck of the devil,’ Stephanie said incredulously.

‘Don’t I just,’ Jo agreed, unable to stop herself from smiling. ‘But I can’t decide what I want you to take off next,’ she sighed.

‘You don’t have a choice,’ Stephanie said, standing up and reaching for the button at the side of her miniskirt. ‘You know the rules as well as I do: all outer garments have to come off before we start on underwear.’

Jo tried to frown sullenly, but the prospect of seeing Stephanie dressed only in her bra and panties was too exciting for her to maintain the charade. She watched as the skirt spilled to the floor revealing Stephanie’s gloriously slender figure clad in a pair of black stockings and high-line panties. She was a beautiful vision, in spite of her sullen expression, and Jo felt an irresistible urge to confess her desires there and then. She had managed to resist the temptation of telling Stephanie how she felt for fear of damaging their friendship and spoiling their business partnership. Stephanie had never made an open declaration of her sexuality and Jo knew an unwelcome approach would ruin their good working relationship. While she had never heard her partner talk about previous or current boyfriends, Jo was sensible enough to realise Stephanie had never spoken of girlfriends either.

Seeing her standing in the centre of the office, clad only in her underwear, Jo felt the familiar wave of desire wash over her again. Her urgent longing was so ferocious all rational thought paled to insignificance. She suddenly knew that, regardless of the consequences, she had to make her true feelings known. She had to tell Stephanie how desperately she wanted her.

‘You’re beautiful,’ she began in a soft, husky whisper. Jo paused, trying to decide on the best way of voicing her desires. ‘I want you’ seemed too trite. ‘Let me take you to bed’ would be too overpowering. In a blinding flash of inspiration she realised the perfect words would be: ‘Stephanie, let’s make love.’ Her heart skipped a beat as Jo realised she had hit on the perfect line. The moment was right and the words were so apt they were almost magical. The realisation that she was only a sentence away from attaining her heart’s desire caused Jo to swallow nervously. ‘Stephanie, let’s make love.’ The words were almost formed on Jo’s lips when their game was interrupted by a sharp knock on the frosted glass of the office door.

Instinctively, Stephanie wrapped her hands over her breasts and glanced anxiously at the door. She snatched her skirt from the floor and stared beseechingly at Jo.

Jo pointed at the storeroom and shooed Stephanie towards it. Because her partner had forgotten her blouse, Jo picked the garment up and threw it after her.

She took a last, lingering look at Stephanie’s half-naked body and tried not to think how the day might have progressed. Angrily, Jo made a mental vow that if the caller was a salesman or a Jehovah’s Witness she was going to kill them.

When the storeroom door closed on Stephanie, Jo steadied her voice and settled herself back behind her desk. With a wary eye she studied the shadow behind the frosted pane in the door, wondering if this would be the month’s first customer. Calmly she called, ‘It’s open. Come on in.’

Tall and balding, he had the nervous look of a man with a problem.

She gauged him to be in his late thirties or early forties; he wore the scars of deep frown lines that came from too much stress. Usually she found clothes were a good indicator of the sort of person she was meeting but the inclement weather had delivered this man to her door in a sodden trench coat, making such judgements impossible. The furled umbrella he carried was dripping pools on the worn Axminster of Jo’s office floor, as was the aluminium briefcase in his other hand.

‘I’m looking for Mr Joe Valentine,’ he said crisply. ‘Is he here?’

‘I’m Jo Valentine,’ she explained, trying not to succumb to the feeling of irritation this mistake usually incited. ‘But I’m a Miss, not a Mr.’

She could see the frown of disappointment cross his face before he had a chance to mask it. ‘You’re Jo Valentine the private investigator?’ he asked warily.

There was a note of incredulity in his voice that Jo found particularly offensive but she bit back a sharp retort. ‘Yes,’ Jo said tersely. ‘I’m
Miss
Jo Valentine, the private investigator. Can I help you?’ she asked with forced politeness.

He paused for a moment and Jo could see he was reassessing the situation in his own mind, not having anticipated he would be dealing with a woman. She tried to quell the notions of feminist rebellion that smouldered in the pit of her stomach, reminding herself that this man was a potential customer.

‘May I sit down?’ he asked awkwardly.

‘Please,’ she said, waving a hand at the chair before her desk. ‘How may I help you, Mr…?’

‘Rogers,’ he supplied quickly. ‘And I want you to find a missing person for me.’

Jo studied him calmly. ‘I hate to push business away,’ she began slowly. ‘But you might find the police have better resources for that sort of work.’

‘The police are a bunch of useless wankers,’ Mr Rogers said in an icy tone. ‘As far as they are concerned a person has to be missing for forty-eight hours before they will even deign to take their name. After that they don’t do anything about it unless they find a corpse.’

Although she thought the man was viewing the situation with a modicum of jaded cynicism, Jo knew there was some truth in what Mr Rogers said. ‘So who’s gone missing? When? Where were they last seen? Have you got a description or photo?’

Slightly taken aback by the sudden barrage of questions, Mr Rogers shifted uncomfortably in his chair and fumbled with the clasps on his briefcase. ‘My wife’s gone missing,’ he explained as he rifled through some papers inside. ‘She was last seen, by myself, five days ago, on Monday morning. Inside this folder I’ve written her name, description and all her other personal details. I have also enclosed a copy of the most recent photograph I possess of her. Is that sufficient?’

Jo reached for the folder and studied it swiftly before responding. ‘Can I have contact numbers for you, in case I do turn anything up?’ she asked absently as she flicked through the pages.

‘My business card is stapled to the back page,’ he said tersely. Having closed his briefcase and placed it carefully on the floor, he reached inside his trench coat and produced a tightly packed Manila envelope. ‘I would be very grateful if you could help me locate my wife,’ he said with unconscious stiffness. ‘This is five thousand pounds of my gratitude. If you can get a result within the next two weeks I’ll happily provide you with another two identical envelopes.’

Jo studied the tightly packed envelope nonchalantly, trying not to show the customer how eager she was to accept the case. There was something suspicious about Mr Rogers that she did not trust. Part of it, she knew, was his obvious sexism, but Jo sensed there was more to her feelings of doubt. The man seemed inordinately uncomfortable in her office and so eager to get away that he shifted restlessly in his chair. It also occurred to Jo that, whilst he was asking her to find his missing wife, he had not mentioned her first name once. ‘Could I just ask a couple more questions before I decide to commence with the investigation?’ she asked coolly.

He shrugged, a wary frown creasing his forehead. ‘If you think it will help, please do.’

‘Did you and your wife argue in the week before she left?’

‘No,’ he said quickly.

‘Is it possible she may have gone off with a lover?’

He laughed darkly. ‘I think alien abduction would be more likely than that,’ he told Jo, relishing his own black mirth. ‘Her social circle was very limited and I’ve checked that meticulously. She was working for the Pentagon Temp Agency in the week before she left but they’ve been no help. That’s why I’ve come to you.’

Jo made a note of the temping agency’s name on her desk pad, trying to recall where she had heard the name before. It had an inordinately familiar ring. ‘You’ve contacted them? What do you mean when you say “they’ve been no help”?’

Rogers snorted in disgust. ‘They said they’d never heard of her,’ he said sharply. ‘They said she’d never worked for them and they had no one on their records with a name or details that came close to resembling my wife’s.’

‘How curious,’ she said quietly, making another note next to the first. Jo tried to relax in her chair but found it impossible. Part of her unease was her instinctive doubt and dislike of the client. She had only known the man for a matter of minutes but already she knew that she did not trust him or his motivations. Normally she preferred working for clients in an honest, open relationship but she strongly doubted such a thing would be possible with this man.

Another part of Jo’s discomfort was due to the small fortune that Mr Rogers had dropped on her desk. Work had been so sparse over the past few months that a case this lucrative would solve a lot of her mounting financial problems. She usually enjoyed the luxury of considering a case’s suitability before accepting it. However, her current state of penury and Mr Rogers’s generosity were forcing her into a corner.

Determined to maintain as much of her own professional integrity as she could, Jo pushed aside her reservations and pressed on. ‘A lot of missing people go missing and want to stay missing,’ she said carefully. Already, on her short acquaintance with Mr Rogers, Jo could empathise with any woman who wanted to leave his company. ‘What would you like me to do if that’s the situation in this case?’

He considered her quietly for a moment, his sullen expression making it obvious that he was unhappy with this idea. ‘If that is the situation,’ he began scornfully. ‘I’d be grateful if you just brought my wife to this office and then summoned me. I’ll take care of everything after that.’ His gaze was challenging, as though he defied her to take issue with this plan.