The Voyeur (8 page)

The music was abruptly switched off, and the quiet of the room engulfed the girls as Mark stood up. Clara, her eyes still closed, could picture her boss as he examined them. There would be no obvious disapproval on his face. There would be no expression at all.

Anya wasn’t sure how they’d done. She thought perhaps they’d survived for a few more minutes without moving than last time, but her memory could be playing tricks. At least Clara hadn’t grabbed her, although part of her wished she had, just to see what Mark would have done. If she was honest, it was only luck that it had been Clara who fidgeted first. She’d been only seconds away from breaking herself.

‘Open your eyes, Clara.’

Obeying immediately, Clara’s crystal clear eyes bored straight into Anya’s, seeing her own uncertainty about their performance reflected back at her.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, he sat back down to write again. Only when he’d finished scribbling did Mark deliberately and carefully close the notebook and address the women.

‘It won’t have slipped your memories, I’m sure, that the last time you partook of Fantasy 2, I let you have free reign upon the bed straight afterwards.’

Mark sat on the foot of the bed as he spoke. ‘However, I happen to know that you have already enjoyed each other since we met in the study. Therefore, I’m sure you would much rather rest.’

The girls said nothing. The dull desperation for each other was screamingly obvious.

‘At least your discipline has improved in the past six months.’ Only now did Mark’s disappointment in them begin to show. ‘You haven’t questioned me on that, or asked me how I knew. But I must enforce what I told you earlier. If you are to survive Fantasy 13, you’ll have to develop more stamina than you have showed this morning, ladies.’

Mark got up and gestured for his companions to follow him from bedroom four into their small bedroom. Once there, he took a pair of handcuffs from the drawer and snapped then around a speechless Anya’s wrists. She bit her lips closed. Why was she being cuffed? She’d won – hadn’t she?

Then Mark weaved a red dog lead through a hoop of metal hidden under the pillow end of the bed and the cuffs. ‘Lie down, Anya.’

Clumsily she got onto the bed, only her legs able to move freely.

‘Clara has to cook my evening meal. She will be able to move, dress, and carry out her duties. You will stay here and think,-and in answer to some of your many unanswered questions, Miss Grant, yes, I do know that it was Clara who moved first. I suggest you rest, Anya. You are going to need all you can get.’

Chapter Eight

Anya’s eyes blurred as she studied the computer screen. It was hard enough trying to work out Mark’s calendar of meetings and conference appointments when she’d had a good night’s sleep; this morning it felt nigh on impossible. Although she’d been left undisturbed the previous evening, without even Clara for company, Anya had been unable to get comfortable upon her bed, and her night had been restless and sleep fitful.

Unconsciously, she rubbed at her wrists. The handcuffs had not been painfully tight, but the slack on the lead hadn’t been enough for her to lower her arms beneath her head, and her shoulders ached dully.

Sore limbs were no novelty to Anya. Yet that, combined with the voice at the back of her head which wondered where Clara was, and what was happening to her, disturbed Anya’s sleep-shattered concentration further. Clara had not been in the dressing room, bathroom, or kitchen when Anya had washed, dressed, and found herself some breakfast. Nor had Anya seen Mark since he’d come into her room and untied her at six o’clock that morning, simply instructing her to get ready for the working day, which would start at eight as usual.

Sighing, and pouring herself a third cup of strong black coffee, Anya returned her attention to the screen and re-checked Mark’s itinerary for the day. Most of it seemed straightforward enough, except for the video call she had with Candice, her opposite number at Parker Software’s New York office, to catch up on staff changes at their end. This routine monthly contact would have been fine if she was feeling on the ball, but all she wanted to do was sleep. With Candice, Anya always felt she needed to be at her best. Something she certainly wasn’t today.

Anya checked her wristwatch. It was only nine o’clock. The day was going to drag if she carried on like this. Pulling herself together, she decided to make serious inroads into her inbox, which was simply bulging with emails after yesterday’s curtailed working day.

Clara nodded as she listened to Mark’s instructions. She’d been expecting something to happen ever since she had been separated from Anya last night. In between short bites of sleep in one of the spare bedrooms, Clara’s mind had gone over the countless possibilities of what might be asked of her and her colleague the next day.

The housekeeper was still very cross with herself for moving her feet during last night’s task. Even more, she was confused by how the outcome of Fantasy 2 had altered since they’d first played it six months ago.

Mark loved watching her and Anya together. It was very out of character for him not to have ordered them to make love in front of him. Not only that – but
she
had been the one to fail.
She
had got it wrong and been the weaker employee. Surely she should have been the one to be tied and left alone all night, not Anya. And now Clara thought about it more carefully, that was also odd. The voyeur in Mark usually orchestrated everything to the advantage of his personal pleasure. So why had he bound Anya’s hands so she couldn’t bring herself off? All three of them knew he would normally have loved viewing that via his webcam from the privacy of his office.

‘So, you understand what you have to do?’ Mark broke through Clara’s thoughts.

‘Yes, Mark.’

‘Good.’ He rose from the armchair. ‘Then I will see you at ten o’clock outside Anya’s office.’

Anya had re-scanned all the emails that had flown across the invisible airwaves of the Atlantic between herself and Candice over the past few weeks. Having retreated to the bathroom to redo her lipstick and add a second layer of concealer to the bags under her eyes, Anya felt as ready as she’d ever be to face the confident, ultra-efficient American PA over the video link.

Having checked the webcam was working properly, and that she was seated comfortably for the forthcoming exchange of information, Anya grabbed a final glance at the notes she’d made, and turned the conference call facility onto standby.

She was just tapping in the password she required to be patched through to the States when the office door opened and Mark and Clara walked in. Anya’s stomach twisted into a knot of lust as she regarded Clara in a skin-hugging Lycra catsuit, all scarlet and black; a combination which showed her figure off to perfection.

There was no point in protesting that she was about to take an important call; Mark already knew that. Why else would he have bought Clara in, dressed so provocatively, at that exact moment? Her boss was a game player extraordinaire, and he knew precisely how to press her buttons, and freak her out at the same time. Anya had known Fantasy 6 would have to be replayed – but she hadn’t expected it now; so soon after Fantasy 2.

So, Mark isn’t going to rerun his erotic fancies in order after all.

Mark said nothing as he gestured for Anya to rise while he pulled her chair from her desk. Clara, without prompting, crawled under the desk, and crouching uncomfortably, waited for Mark to speak.

Even as her boss pointedly announced the obvious imminent replay of Fantasy 6, Anya was ahead of him, vividly remembering what had happened last time she had been forced to carry out a telephone call with Clara’s head between her legs. This time it seemed she was going to have to endure all the gorgeous delights to come while communing with an audience who could not only hear her voice, but see her as well; and who must never know what was going on below the desk.

‘Roll up your skirt, take off your thong, and sit down. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the importance of opening your legs as wide as possible.’ Anya kicked off her shoes and obliged. ‘Quickly, girl, it’s time for your meeting to begin.’

As she sat, pulling in her chair as close to the desk as it would go without squashing Clara, Anya tried to steady her nerves. The video line rang, and Anya plastered a convincingly serene smile across her face.

‘How are you, Candice, all well over there?’ Anya felt pleased at how normal her voice sounded despite the knowledge that the woman she loved was curled up only inches from her naked pussy.

‘I’m great, thank you.’ Candice, as no-nonsense as ever, dived straight into the business of the day. ‘I’m pleased to say that the personnel alterations we’ve had this end seem to be an improvement, rather than the procedural nightmare that we both feared.’

Anya listened hard as Candice listed the strengths of the new employees and what she hoped they would bring to Parker Software as a whole. But as the minutes ticked by, and Clara hadn’t so much as breathed on her, Anya found her focus beginning to falter.

‘And if his impact so far is anything to go by, then I judge that Stuart Hopkirk will turn out to be the better of the new candidates to fulfil the transatlantic element of the sales force. He’s more of a “people person”, if you see what I mean?’ Candice emphasised her point by using her fingers to show the inverted commas around the statement that Anya had only partially heard.

Why hadn’t Clara done anything yet? Last time this had happened, her lover had been straight in with the action. That had been hard enough, trying to keep her tone business-like when Clara had been employing her mouth so expertly. This non-action was far worse. Anya was so braced for the feel of the first touch that she knew she was losing the thrust of what Candice was saying.

‘Anya, are you OK?’ Candice’s southern twang sounded genuinely concerned as her counterpart failed to answer a question.

‘Sorry, the screen broke up then for a bit,’ Anya rallied, not daring to glance in Mark’s direction, knowing he’d be annoyed at her lack of professionalism. ‘Could you repeat that one, please?’

‘Sure. I was saying that Hopkins will be over in the UK next month, so I’ll confirm dates with you once flights are booked. Mark should talk with him face to face. His ideas on company development are interesting.’

‘Of course. I’ll sort a meet and greet session in London as soon as you confirm timings.’

‘Excellent! Right, that just leaves us to sort Mark’s visit to the States in the summer. Are you coming with him this year? It would be great to meet you in person.’

‘I doubt it. I – owwww!’ Anya jumped as a sharp pair of teeth dug into her pussy. ‘Oh, do excuse me; I think I was just stung. Must be an insect in here or something.’

Candice’s eyes narrowed. She looked far from convinced, but was too professional and polite to do anything other than take Anya’s word for it.

Anya could feel a blush start to creep up her neck and tinge her cheeks pink as Clara continued to nibble her teeth over and around her mound, pulling back her labia with a sharp pressure which she knew could bring Anya off very quickly.

It was time to end this conference call, and quickly. ‘Well, my diary has the last four days of July pencilled in as a possible. How does that fit with you?’

Candice tapped a few buttons on the out of sight iPad Anya knew she was physically attached to, and looked up with an orthodontically enhanced, white toothed smile. ‘The 29th is out, but the four days prior to that are clear. Shall I book Mark in?’

Without even bothering to check those days were free in Mark’s calendar, Anya said, ‘That would be excellent.’ As Clara’s tongue and right hand joined in the exploration of her crotch, Anya pretended to write down the dates.

‘Anything else you require today, Candice?’ Anya squeezed her fingernails into her hidden palms, trying to deflect the need to wriggle her arse closer to Clara’s lips, which had begun to move even faster.

‘I think that just about concludes things. Thanks for your time, Anya.’

Issuing a smile of genuine relief as Candice bought things to a close, Anya felt Clara’s long fingernails began to delicately scrape the space below her clit. Her smile toward Candice froze for a split second as Clara then forcibly pushed a hand under Anya, shoving her butt upwards so her anus could be tickled.

‘One moment please, ladies.’ Mark strode across the room, and bent into the eyeline of the video link.

‘Good morning, Mark. I’m sorry; I hadn’t realised you were there.’ Candice’s face lit up, leaving no one in any doubt as to how attractive she thought the owner of Parker Software was.

‘I’ve just arrived, sweetheart.’ Mark oozed charm at Anya’s American associate. ‘Could you be an absolute star and give me a brief breakdown of sales figures for the last quarter your end?’

Anya could have cried as Clara’s digits increased their pace. As she struggled to keep her body still from the waist up, her arse squirmed and her shoulders tensed. She felt like some kind of sinister ventriloquist’s dummy as her upper body stiffened, a look which, at an executive level, could so easily be interpreted as lack of confidence, and therefore weakness. If she wasn’t careful Candice would be putting the word about that she was cracking up. Given half the chance, Anya knew she would be on the next plane to the UK, kicking her out, so she could work with Mark instead.

Gathering herself together, doing her best to blank out what was happening to her below desk level, Anya snapped back into PA mode. ‘Actually, that would be very helpful for me as well; but if you wish for some time to gather that information, then I am happy to schedule another call tomorrow?’

‘Well, I can help a little now.’ Candice addressed Mark rather than the PA. Normally Anya would have been offended, but today she was simply relieved to have the impetus taken away from her for a minute, so she could take the opportunity to lift her buttocks from the chair, allowing Clara easier access to her backside. Instantly, Clara shuffled a digit inside her anus, and Anya trapped her girl’s finger and right arm beneath her, successfully limiting the source of the sensually distracting motion around her groin.

Undeterred, however, Clara’s left hand continued its adventure by running up Anya’s legs, dancing only the tips of her fingers over the exposed flesh, making Anya shiver, causing the inserted finger to burrow deeper into her backside.

As Candice and Mark discussed import and export figures, Anya found it harder to remain centred on them, her mind drifting more and more to the curled-up creature beneath the desk.

‘Can you confirm that for me please, Anya?’ Mark’s voice snapped Anya back to attention. She was suddenly convinced by the way he and Candice were staring at her that this was at least the second time he’d asked her that question.

She knew there was no point in bluffing; they were both too shrewd for that. ‘I’m sorry, I allowed myself to be distracted. Can you repeat that, please?’

‘Sorry, Anya, I don’t have the time.’ Mark was brusque, and he turned his face back to the video link, treating Candice to his most disarming smile, ‘I must apologise for my PA’s behaviour, Candice. This unsatisfactory situation will be cleared up. Do you have time for another link meeting tomorrow?’

‘Certainly Mark, about 3 p.m.?’

Anya bristled silently, noticing that Candice hadn’t even referred to her diary, and privately hoped she’d find she was already busy and would have to reschedule, and therefore embarrass herself.

‘I’ll speak to you then. Many thanks, Candice; until tomorrow.’ Mark clicked off the link, and the room went deadly quiet.

Clara, picking up on the abrupt hush and the tense atmosphere, stopped moving, making Anya groan from the loss of attention, and therefore compound her crime in Mark’s eyes.

Coming forward, Mark grabbed the back of the swivel chair upon which Anya sat, and pulled it out from the desk. Anya, her skirt still rucked around her waist, lowered her gaze to the folded woman under the desk. Clara, her knees tucked under her, had her arse pushed as far back as possible, so that the limited space was free for her arms to get the best access to Anya. The concern on her face was obvious.

Neither woman had to be told they had not fulfilled the second attempt at Fantasy 6 to Mark’s specification, but which one of them had actually failed? And more to the point, would one of them, or both of them, be punished?

‘So, it seems you are no longer able to conduct the simplest conference call.’ Mark’s voice was like steel as he crossed his arms and sat on the desk, effectively trapping Clara behind his legs, forming a barrier between her and Anya.