The Training of Fallen Angels (5 page)

BOOK: The Training of Fallen Angels
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Nervously, she tugged at one of the drapes. A shaft of bright sunlight cut through the darkness like a laser.

‘I would rather you didn’t do that.’ The voice was thickly male, deep and with a menacing tone. Janet let the curtain fall back into place and swung round.

‘Who’s there?’ she demanded.

‘There’s no need to be afraid, Janet Angel. You will not come to any harm.’ The voice seemed less forbidding now, but Janet was in no way reassured.

‘Who are you? What are you doing in my home?’ There was a momentary silence, then a switch clicked and a small table-lamp was turned on. Janet looked in the direction of the light. The man sat nonchalantly in the corner of the room. He was dark, in his late thirties and extremely handsome. He was smartly dressed in an expensive suit and his eyes were shielded by gold-rimmed sunglasses. His appearance gave Janet the impression that she was in the presence of a gangster.

She took a deep breath and moved forward a step, ‘I asked you who you were,’ she said, courageously. She tried to feign anger but her voice trembled as she spoke. Her eyes darted around the room. The telephone was on the far side; she would have to walk past him to get to it. She looked at the door to the hallway. She might make it, but she knew that she couldn’t leave Lisa alone with this menacing stranger.
She
was about to cry out to waken her friend when the man leant forward in his seat and removed his sunglasses.

He looked directly into her eyes and she felt that her knees would give way. The expression on his face was benign but the look in his eyes seemed to be penetrating into her very soul, as though reading her thoughts. ‘I told you,’ he said patiently. ‘There is no need to be afraid. We have a mutual friend.’

Try as she might, Janet found that she couldn’t tear her gaze from his. She moved slowly and sat opposite him, her hands tucked between her thighs like a schoolgirl who had been caught misbehaving. The stranger’s smile broadened, but his dark, piercing eyes remained cold. ‘You and your friend Lisa are known in some very high places,’ he said. ‘Even the President of Europe himself speaks highly of you.’

‘You know the President?’

‘He is a friend. From what he has told me, you are just the type of girls I am looking for to assist in my new enterprise.’

‘What do you mean, enterprise?’ Janet was beginning to feel a little more relaxed and sat back in her chair.

‘I run a kind of college and therapy centre in the heart of Sussex, attending to the needs of the very wealthy and their precocious offspring. Your friend Lisa and you will make excellent therapists and tutors.’

‘I don’t understand. We haven’t any training or qualifications.’

‘You have much experience in matters of the flesh which will prove invaluable, and you will be given suitable instruction.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Janet, becoming increasingly confused. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Grantham Manor offers sexual therapy to men and women who suspect that they are going through all manner of personal and intimate crises. Your knowledge and your complete lack of inhibitions will suit you both well to the task. Additionally, the Manor serves as a kind of finishing school for the daughters of the very rich, where they may receive instruction as to the more hedonistic of adult pursuits.’

Janet sat quietly for a moment as she pondered on her strange visitor’s words. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, presently. ‘Let me wake my friend.’ She made to stand up, but the stranger leant forward and stared hard into her eyes. Janet shrank back into the seat. For some reason she felt unable to move.

‘There is no need to disturb your friend,’ he said, slowly. ‘You will make the decision.’

There was a long silence. The stranger’s gaze remained fixed on Janet’s, unblinking and totally absorbing. She began to sense that her will was deserting her but, more than that, she was starting to feel incredibly aroused. She crossed her legs, but that made the feeling worse. She uncrossed them again and shifted uncomfortably in her seat without, for one moment, taking her eyes off his. An incongruous heat was building up within her loins.

‘What are you thinking, Janet Angel?’ he said. Janet opened her mouth and tried to speak, but to no avail. The nerve-endings between her legs were becoming more and more alive as his eyes drained her with their unremitting stare. She swallowed hard. ‘You are thinking how much you would like to fuck this stranger, sitting in your room,’ the man continued as his voice became deeper and faded into a near-whisper. ‘You are imagining the taste of his cock, and wondering what it would feel like as it
entered
your lithe little body.’ He leant back and grinned malevolently. Janet began to breathe in short, sharp gasps. ‘Imagine it, Janet, long, thick and hard, slipping deep inside you, filling you completely.’

She sensed the lips of her pussy opening within the constraints of the tight shorts. Her hands were still clasped between her thighs. She pressed them hard against her mound and began to tremble, not with fear, but with sheer, unsated lust. The man just stared at her. She knew that she wasn’t being hypnotised – that would be too easy an explanation for what was happening to her. No, she was transfixed and completely at the mercy of his all-consuming sexual presence.

There were no more words. None were needed. Her cunt started to throb involuntarily. She moved her hands away from herself and lay back with her legs spread wide apart in blatant subservience. She saw him lick his lips slowly and imagined him slipping his long tongue inside her hot sheath. The heat within her loins grew in intensity and a burning itch clawed at the erect bud of her clitoris. The man’s eyes widened into a menacing leer.

Suddenly, almost without warning, she was coming, without the slightest touch or caress. Resisting the temptation to rub herself with her fingers, she opened her legs even wider and thrust forward with her hips so that her tight shorts gripped her pussy like a lover’s hand. She threw her head back and grimaced as the sensation took hold of her every emotion. ‘Oh, my God!’ she moaned. ‘Oh, I don’t believe it!’ The force of the orgasm seemed to be unending. Janet thrust her hips up and down wildly as if she were attempting to drain some unseen lover. The man smiled proudly.

Then it was over. She fell back into her seat
exhausted
. Her heart pounded within her chest and her skin seemed to be alive with sensation. She looked at the stranger through glazed eyes. The stare had lost its intensity, though none of its magnetic attraction.

‘You will come to Grantham Manor?’ he asked, simply. Janet nodded. ‘Persuade your friend,’ he said as he rose to his feet. ‘You will not regret your decision.’ He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small card. He handed it to Janet, who took it and tried vainly to focus her eyes on the wording.

‘Take the east-bound train to Doleham Halt tomorrow afternoon,’ he continued. ‘A car will collect you.’

With that, the stranger made for the door and opened it. ‘May I know your name?’ asked Janet weakly, her voice shaking with emotion.

‘I am known as Mr Gee,’ he replied as he stepped out into the hallway. ‘You would find my full name unpronounceable. Until tomorrow, Janet Angel.’

Then he was gone, and the room seemed incredibly empty. Janet looked again at the card, and this time managed to read the words:
GRANTHAM MANOR, INSTITUTE FOR HEDONISTIC RELAXATION AND INSTRUCTION
.

As the train wound its way through the sun-baked Sussex countryside, Janet stared out of the window and pondered over the situation in which she and Lisa had found themselves. Yesterday, as she had explained the mysterious Mr Gee’s offer to her friend, it had all seemed perfectly reasonable but now, in the light of day, the doubts were beginning to set in. They knew nothing of him, nor his college and therapy centre, and only had his word that the President himself had recommended them to him. But he must have known that they had met the President and, anyway, it would be an adventure. Lately, life had
become
incredibly dull after the excitement of the previous summer.

And, as Lisa had said when Janet had told her about Mr Gee, you find a strange man in your room, he makes you come without touching you and then offers you a job. What could be better than that?

She looked across the carriage at her friend who, as usual, was sleeping peacefully. Like herself, Lisa had chosen to dress simply for the journey in jeans and skimpy top. She was curled up on the large seat with her knees pushed against her breasts and her face buried against the upholstery, completely immune to the noise of the old diesel as it struggled complainingly up a long rise.

Janet glanced back out of the carriage window and was just in time to catch a glimpse of two horses copulating in a passing field. It seemed to her like a good omen for the immediate future.

‘How much further is it?’ Lisa’s sleepy question broke the spell of the moment.

‘It can’t be much longer,’ replied Janet as she glanced at her watch. ‘It’s already after three.’

Lisa uncurled her legs and held them rigid in front of her whilst she stretched her arms above her head. Her bra-less breasts jutted firmly upwards and forced the thin material of her T-shirt loose from the waistband of her jeans. Janet smiled and looked out of the window. The train seemed to be slowing down. She glanced at her watch.

‘This must be it; Doleham Halt. Come on, get your stuff. I can’t imagine that the train will hang about for long at such a tiny station.’ They grabbed their bags from the rack and slid the window in the carriage door open. Lisa leant out of the window with her blonde hair billowing in the breeze.

‘It’s not much of a station,’ she said as she pulled
the window
closed. There’s just a platform, nothing else.’

‘I suppose that’s why they call it a halt.’

The train shuddered to a stop and the girls clambered from the carriage. They were the only passengers to disembark. No sooner had Lisa slammed the door than the train moved away, quickly disappearing around a bend in the track and leaving them in relative silence. They stood for a moment and surveyed the scene.

‘It’s beautiful here,’ said Janet, deliberately keeping her voice quiet so as not to intrude on the peaceful ambience of their situation.

‘There’s no sign of a car,’ said Lisa after a moment. Janet looked down the narrow lane that stretched from the halt and disappeared behind the hedgerows. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. She glanced at her watch.

‘We’re early,’ she said, setting down her bag on the platform. ‘We might as well wait.’ She sat down on the edge of a low wall and nonchalantly picked a long stem of grass that was growing out of the crumbling mortar. She chewed thoughtfully on the fleshy blade as she watched Lisa lean against the gate. The young blonde’s tight jeans accented the perfect shape of her bottom as she bent forward to rest her elbows on the top of the gate. No panties, of course. It would be a sin to spoil the smooth curves of such delightful buttocks with their tell-tale line. Janet ran her tongue slowly across her upper lip. If the car didn’t arrive soon she would be dragging Lisa into the field and tearing those jeans from her lovely body.

She touched herself between the legs and began gently to caress the prominent, fleshy mound covered only by the thin denim. Lisa stepped up on to the lowest spar of the rickety gate and leant further
forward
so that her weight coaxed it to glide slowly open. Janet rubbed herself harder as she gazed at her friend’s beautiful bottom.

The blonde suddenly jumped to the ground. ‘There’s a car coming! I can hear it!’

Janet slipped from the wall and walked to the gate. She could hear the low murmur of a big, powerful vehicle and the hiss of tyres on the road. ‘Let’s hope it’s for us,’ she said.

‘It must be,’ said Lisa as she picked up her bag.

They walked out into the road. A sleek, American limousine rounded the bend, its windows blacked out and its paintwork glistening brightly in the sunlight. The car glided to a halt and the driver’s window purred as it slid open. The large, round face of the chauffeur appeared.

‘Janet and Lisa Angel?’ a gruff voice enquired.

Janet stepped forward excitedly. ‘That’s us,’ she said. ‘Are you from Grantham Manor?’

The big man grunted a positive reply and climbed out of the vehicle. He was wearing a light-coloured uniform, complete with peaked cap. He stood well over six feet in height, towering over the two friends. He held his hand out. Janet looked at him quizzically. ‘Your bags,’ he demanded.

‘Oh, yes, right,’ said Janet. She handed over her possessions quickly. Lisa followed suit and the man ambled to the rear of the car to throw the bags unceremoniously into the boot. Lisa shot a concerned glance to Janet, who smiled and shrugged her shoulders. The chauffeur opened the rear door and motioned for them to get inside. They did so quickly and sank into the sumptuous white leather seat. The door was slammed shut immediately.

A heavy, glass partition separated them from the driver’s compartment. They watched as the chauffeur
climbed
into his seat and heard the click as the doors were electronically locked.

‘Oh, well,’ said Janet, ‘there’s no going back now.’

‘He’s a little chatterbox, isn’t he?’ said Lisa.

Janet grinned. ‘I’m sure everything will be fine,’ she replied, determined to ignore a feeling of apprehension that was gnawing at her.

The car was turned noiselessly around and they headed down the narrow, winding lane. Janet relaxed back in the seat and watched the countryside drift by outside. ‘Everything will be fine’, she repeated to herself.

‘Oh, my God, look at that!’ Lisa was sitting erect and looking in amazement out of the car window. Janet followed her gaze. The vehicle had rounded a sharp bend and they could now see a house, or rather a mansion, nestling within the gentle folds of the lush, green hills.

‘There’s certainly some money here,’ Janet breathed. ‘I wonder what fees Mr Gee charges his clients!’

The car crunched its way along the long gravel drive until it pulled up at the front of the manor. The car locks clicked and, after a moment, the door was opened. Lisa and Janet clambered out into the sunlight. Mr Gee stood on the steps leading to the main door, flanked by two young girls dressed in the skimpiest of maid’s costumes. He stepped forward as the chauffeur handed Lisa and Janet their baggage.

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