Bizarre Confessions

by Kitt Gerrard

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance

Synopsis

Being a psychic sexual investigator can certainly be a stimulating way of earning a living. Terri Bizarre only has to look out of the window of her office and probe the minds of passers-by to experience their most secret sexual fantasies. But when a fresh-faced young woman called Fiona Courtley walks into her office and asks for her help, Terri knows instinctively that she is about to enter a world of desire beyond anything she has ever experienced.

Fiona is concerned that her previously virginal flatmate, Rachel, has become dangerously addicted to a TV show called Imagine This in which viewers' most lustful fantasies are portrayed on-screen. Not only does Rachel spend her time pleasuring herself in front of the television in full view of Fiona, but Fiona is worried that she is beginning to find the sight of her lust-crazed flatmate strangely exciting... Will Terri manage to cool their passions, or will her insights into Rachel and Fiona's depraved desires just make things worse?

Release date: March 13, 2014

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 224

Sample

Terri Bizarre threw her pen down and scraped her chair back irritably. Even psychic sexual investigators had to catch up on paperwork sometimes, but she loathed every moment of it. Stretching stiffly, she stood up and strode over to the half-open window of her first floor office. Dusk was falling outside. The first of the lurid neon signs above the peepshows and strip joints that surrounded her small room was just stuttering into life, but already the action on the street was hotting up.

She breathed in deeply and the hairs on the back of her neck tingled as the sexually charged atmosphere of forbidden lusts and irresistible temptations coursed through her veins like a drug.

Though it wasn’t only the sights and sounds that made her feel like that. The extraordinary ultra-sensory powers she possessed allowed her to experience the scene in a way denied to the rest of us. To her the air was alive with the secret erotic desires of the people moving around below her. Their sexual fantasies were revealed to her as clearly as if they were being whispered to her by confessing sinners.

Her eyes fell upon a woman slipping out of a sex shop clutching a carrier bag to her chest. Scanning the woman’s mind, Terri read her torrid thoughts and learnt that she had just purchased two blow-up dolls. The rubber dolls were unusual because they were both male and both endowed with enormous inflatable phalluses.

She was hurrying home to act out a fetishist fantasy that had been bringing her to orgasm for months now. Alone in the house that night, she was going to hang the two deflated figures in the old wooden wardrobe in her bedroom and connect them to an electric air pump with a length of plastic hose. Naked and sexually lubricated, she intended to climb in between the dolls and close the door securely behind her.

In the dark, confined compartment, she’d find the switch she’d put inside the wardrobe to control the pump. Once it was turned on, the pump would make the alien-like, shiny-skinned male figures begin to swell up on either side of her. Staring at her through unseeing eyes, they would start to press against her bare flesh in the total darkness, crowding in on her frighteningly as they grew and filled, harder and harder. It would get difficult for her to breathe the rubber-tainted air as they squeezed her ever tighter between their smooth, dry chests. Uncomfortable, too, as their twin phalluses began to engorge and jab painfully into her thighs and belly.

By the time the long, thick shafts inflated to full erection, the two jutting speartips would be digging into her unbearably. She would be squirming around in agony and, in her wild attempts to deflect their sharpened weapons, it would happen. An accidental twist of her hips would allow the head of one of the rock-solid cocks to lodge between her sex-lips and instantly the pressure behind it would force the whole sweeping length of rubber to plunge deep inside her oiled pussy.

Gasping in shock, she would be transfixed on the unyielding shaft and turned against her will to face her impassive violator. Her fate would be sealed, now. There could only be one way to relieve the stabbing ache of the phallus digging so deeply into the soft mounds of her behind. Face glowing crimson in the darkness, she would have no option but to shamefully part her buttocks and lift herself on tiptoe until the dusky whorl at the very centre found the pointed tip of the second cock pole. This phallus, too, would spring forward to bury itself inside her and then her fantasy would be complete. Groaning and whimpering weakly, she would have no option but to ease her torment by masturbating feverishly as she writhed around in the claustrophobic blackness.

Even as she hurried back to her car, the woman’s clitoris was already throbbing with the idea of bringing herself to orgasm after orgasm until her heaving body was so wet with perspiration it felt as if she was oiled all over. She was thrilled by the thought of coming until her legs gave way, and then finding her sweating hands were so slippery she could get no grip on her rubber-sheathed lovers for support. She imagined herself hanging limp and helpless between their pressing chests with only the double penetration of their insatiable members holding her up and stopping her from sliding to her knees. The idea excited her so much she was finding it hard not to run all the way back to her car.

Looking the other way down the street, Terri read the mind of a smart middle-aged businessman as he headed towards the nearby railway station. The man was smiling to himself, thinking of how his straight-laced wife would soon be serving him his dinner. She would be totally oblivious of the indecent hors d’oeuvre he had just unfaithfully consumed.

He had just spent an hour with a young, blonde prostitute who had welcomed him into her room wearing nothing more than a tiny G-string made out of liquorice laces. She had lain on her bed and spread her legs wide to offer her beautiful pussy to him, but the catch was he was denied permission to enjoy her until he’d relieved her of her unusual underwear.

Of course, that would have been a moment’s work if he’d been allowed to snap the side ties with his hands or even gnaw them undone with his teeth, but that would have been against the rules. To make him work for his pleasure he had been ordered to make her nude using nothing else but his tongue. Her stern command had been, ‘Lick my panties off!’

He had set to work eagerly, lapping at the tiny woven triangle of sweet black cords again and again until they softened and yielded. He had made it so wet and sticky, he was able to worm his tongue tip through a hole in the mesh. How he’d made the girl buck and jerk then as he had strained forward and explored the shiny gumdrop of her clitoris beneath.

Her cries of pleasure had fired his efforts and made him lap at her quim like a thirsty dog slurping water from a bowl. He had devoured the G-string dementedly, drinking back the black sweetness and not caring how the wet tar smeared around his face. Then, just as her moans grew hoarse with the nearness of her climax, he had let out a cheer of triumph as the last of the crotch laces melted apart.

Rearing up above her, he’d looked down to see the gloriously sticky mess he’d made between her split thighs. The halo of golden pubic hair surrounding her sex was matted into a dark ring. The plump folds of her half-come, syrup-filled pussy were streaked with a mixture of treacly juices and trickling wetness. And once he’d seen that, nothing in the world could have stopped him lunging his rampant cock right into the centre of the squelchy pink and black swirl and riding both the whore and himself to shouting orgasm.

As the businessman went on his way with his exciting memories, he passed three prostitutes chatting idly in a doorway as they waited for their first pick-up of the night. None of the working girls bothered to catch his eye; they were all experienced enough to be able to tell at a glance he was already a satisfied customer. One of the whores was pulling the waistband of her tiny hotpants down to show off a tattoo she’d just had put at the top of her mound, but she was interrupted when a big black Mercedes cruised to a halt beside them and a man in dark glasses called out of the passenger window to them.

One of the other girls strutted over to the car and bent over to lean in the window as she bantered provocatively with the men inside. The miniskirt she was wearing was so short that when she bent over, the back of it rode right up over the tight globes of her pert buttocks.

Even from where she was watching, Terri could see she had no underwear on and was openly exhibiting her uncovered sex to the men in the back of the car. Before long, the rear window wound down and a hand reached out from inside and began to explore between the girl’s naked thighs. The delving fingers disappeared right under her pelmet of a skirt, but the prostitute made no effort to stop them. On the contrary, she moved closer into the side of the car to make it even easier for the hand’s owner to sample the goods she had to offer.

Having seen enough, Terri was just about to turn away from her window when her attention was drawn to a fresh-faced young woman walking along the pavement towards the Mercedes. She seemed out of place down here in the red-light district and from the way she was looking around all the time, Terri thought she must be lost. She was so intent on studying the street numbers on the shops she didn’t notice the scene taking place at the kerbside until she was nearly beside the car. As she passed it, the girl casually cast her eyes over the prostitute’s body. Then, a second later, her gaze snapped back and her face blushed bright scarlet with scandalised surprise as she realised she was looking at the whore’s exposed quim being penetrated by two of the man’s frigging fingers.

Terri laughed at the way she hurried on with her eyes fixed firmly on the pavement in front of her, but then she sensed the thoughts on the girl’s mind and her brow immediately furrowed to a worried frown. She only just had time to step back from the window before the girl glanced up directly towards it and then crossed over the street heading for the entrance downstairs.

Moving back to her desk, Terri cleared the pile of uncompleted forms away into a drawer with an easy conscience. She had a good excuse for not finishing them now. Everything told her she was about to be given a new case to solve.

Terri opened the door into her office just as she heard footsteps reaching the top of the stairs outside. She had a suspicion her visitor might turn back at the last moment and didn’t want to give her that option. As it was, the girl jumped back in surprise and stammered out, ‘Ss-sorry, I can see you’re just leaving. I’ll come back another time.’

Terri drew her into the room before she could get away. ‘No, it’s perfectly all right. Come and take a seat, Miss . . .?’

‘Courtley, Fiona Courtley.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Fiona. I’m—’

‘Miss Terri Bizarre. I know, I recognised you from your photograph.’

Fishing in her shoulder bag, Fiona pulled out a folded newspaper cutting and handed it across the desk as she sat down. Terri grimaced at the colour picture of herself at the top of the article, but in truth it made her look no less beautiful than she was in real life.

Fiona hurried on nervously, ‘The article is all about a crime you solved recently using your special powers. It says you believe you were chosen by the spirit of an Ancient Egyptian sorceress to inherit her gift of reading other people’s sexual fantasies. Reading it made me think you might be the one person who could help me, though, I have to come clean right away. I’m a drama student managing on a small grant; I can’t afford to hire you or even pay for advice. I’m just hoping that you’d be willing to answer one, simple question for me.’

Terri smiled kindly at her young visitor. ‘Don’t worry about money; it’s not important. I believe I’ve been given my powers to provide help to those that really need it. I know you have a problem that’s worrying you and I’d like to hear what it is. Just relax, take your time and tell me all about it.’

Taking a deep breath, Fiona settled back into her chair a little more and began,

‘For the past two years I’ve shared a flat with a girl called Rachel Stuart who’s on the same course as I am. We’re best friends, but I think we’re quite inhibited, compared to some of the other girls we know who live together. We don’t go parading around the flat in our underwear and if, say, we have a shower, we always put on a dressing gown before we come out of the bathroom. I’ve only ever seen Rachel naked twice and there’s never been a hint of anything sexual between us.

‘That’s what makes what’s been happening recently so odd. It’s all to do with that new programme, Imagine This, that everyone’s talking about. You know the one I mean?’

Terri certainly did. Imagine This was the television sensation of the decade. It was based around a Russian girl called Anya who, it was claimed, had once been part of an experimental Soviet mind-reading research programme. The story was that something had been done to her that had amplified her brain patterns to such a level that a hi-tech helmet device was now able to detect her thoughts and convert them into moving pictures. The company producing the show were very secretive about how this ‘FantaSee’ helmet operated, but there was no doubt it did work.

Imagine This had been created to make money from Anya’s talent by focusing on the one area of thought everyone is most interested in – erotic fantasies. Every week the studio audience would choose title ideas and then Anya would allow the helmet to make the sexual adventures they triggered in her mind come alive for everyone to see. The pictures were in full colour, but there was no sound so Anya would speak as the fantasies unfurled, explaining the story as it went along.

The reason the programme had caused such an uproar was because Anya’s confessions were incredibly explicit. Because it was fantasy, she could make anything she wanted happen. But that didn’t just mean giving some of her men twelve-inch penises. The tales she revealed from her thoughts contained the most depraved sex scenes that had ever been broadcast on British television.

No other programme was allowed to show such blue material but, due to our friendly bureaucrats in the EU, there was absolutely nothing the Government could do to stop it. In the past few months a directive had been issued from Brussels making it illegal for any member country to censor live-televised discussion programmes in any way.

The idea behind it was to guarantee the right of free speech in the less democratically run countries that were now entering the Community. However, no one writing the legislation had foreseen that, although the rule was specifically aimed at political debates and election programmes, it could also be used as a loophole to get shows like Imagine This on the air. The only requirement was that the show went out live, a fact the show’s host, Roger Hood, made sure to emphasise every Saturday night.

Now, it seemed that half the nation wouldn’t miss the show for anything and the other half thought it was pornographic filth. Fiona’s flatmate Rachel was obviously in the former group because, as Fiona went on to tell Terri, ‘Rachel has had to take on a Saturday job to help with her grant and she doesn’t finish until late. By the time she gets home Imagine This is over, so I have to video it for her. It’s her treat to curl up in her armchair and watch it when she comes in. She’s tired after her work, so I like to give her some space. I usually go off to take a bath and leave her to enjoy the programme in peace.

‘A few times since the show has been on, I’ve heard her mumbling whilst she’s been watching the tape, but I never thought anything of it. Then, a fortnight ago, I felt like a glass of orange juice before I went to bed. Our flat’s very small: the kitchen’s just an area at one end of the main living room. Rachel was in there with the lights turned off and she was watching the video so intently she didn’t notice me come in. She was doing her mumbling thing again, but that was only the half of it.

‘I found her sprawled half-out of the chair with her legs forked out stiffly and her skirt rucked up so high she was displaying a huge gash of white panties. She had her fingers jammed inside the crotch of those same panties, moving them about rapidly. To my horror, I’d walked in on her whilst she was in the middle of masturbating!

‘I was so shocked and embarrassed, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but creep out of the room again. She didn’t seem to notice me so I never mentioned a thing about it to her. I wanted to forget all about it, but last Saturday when I went into the kitchen at the same time, there she was, doing exactly the same thing!

‘I couldn’t let it pass again. I don’t have any problem with masturbation, but I couldn’t live with Rachel worrying I was going to disturb her frigging herself every time I went into the lounge. So, that evening, instead of slipping away, I went to sit in the second armchair as a way of confronting her about it. I was sure the instant she saw me she would be mortified at being caught playing with herself, but, amazingly, even when I was sitting right there beside her, she just carried on staring at the screen and rubbing herself urgently.

‘I was stunned by her brazenness, though I have to admit it excited me to watch her. I’d never seen another woman stimulate herself before, but I could tell she was near to orgasm. Her face was strained and she was stretched right out with her buttocks just balancing on the very edge of the chair. Her legs were scissoring in and out and she was so wet, her fingers were making a splashing sound as she stirred them into herself.

‘This is the weird part, though. Now that I was closer to Rachel I could make out what she was muttering about and I was staggered to realise it was actually the voice-over that Anya was providing to her fantasy pictures. She was speaking it word for word, never making a single mistake, but the really scary thing was, she was saying the words a few moments before Anya did! I thought I must be imagining it, but there was no doubt about it. Somehow she was anticipating every sentence before she heard it.’

Fiona went on to describe the fantasy, all about a raunchy black girl going to a rock concert with her boyfriend and his best friend, Luke. The venue was packed out and the three of them were crushed up tight together in the crowd with the girl, Carly, and her boyfriend standing beside each other and Luke jammed up right behind her.

It was obvious from the furtive looks they’d been exchanging as they went in that Carly and Luke were hot for each other and, as the band came on, Carly obviously decided to do something about it. Accidentally-on-purpose, she slowly began to press her peachy little bottom further and further back against Luke’s groin. After a while, she started shuffling around as if she was really embarrassed about it, but couldn’t move away again. And it wasn’t long before her squirming gave Luke an erection that was standing up in his pants like an iron post.

The fantasy was set in the seventies, so Carly had a big Afro hairdo and she was wearing a pair of really tight hotpants. The vertical bulge of Luke’s hard-on was soon ploughing a deep furrow into the back of them and he was sure she must be able to feel it riding up and down the valley between her bottom cheeks. There was nothing he could do about it, but he just about died when she shot a hand back and pretended to be startled when she found out what it was he was rubbing against her.

It was only when her movement changed to a lascivious caress that Luke realised what her game was. He was shocked by her forwardness, but he didn’t resist when she took hold of his hand and furtively guided it up under her top on the side of her body furthest away from her boyfriend.

Quickly getting the idea of what she was offering him, he began to worm his fingers inside the warmth of her bra cup, eager to fondle the smoothness of one of those two voluptuous dark chocolate breasts he’d been lusting after for so long.

Whilst he enjoyed himself there, Carly dropped her hand back to his pants and began to unfasten his jeans. She soon had his hot penis free and, twisting it sideways, she started to masturbate him awkwardly in the tiny space between their two bodies. With the music and the flashing lights and everyone being jammed so close together, no one could tell what they were doing.

Carly tossed him on and on, until she felt his tip go slippery wet. Then just as she was about to make him spend, unbelievably, Luke tore himself free from her grasp. She was completely bewildered, but she was unable to do anything but stay staring for. . .