Strictly Bizarre

by Kitt Gerrard

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance

Synopsis

Someone is stealing from Halligan Technology. More than that, they're highjacking the erotic fantasies of Halligan's most creative employees to get what they want. Now it's up to Terri Bizarre, psychic sexual investigator, to uncover the truth. But the truth is concealed in dark tales of depravity and sensual obsession - the most closely-guarded secrets of men and women who, under the whiphand of Miss Bizarre, now have no option but to confess...

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 224

Sample

The shivering blonde in the darkened doorway beside the strip club was wearing a skirt that was so short the grooved crotch of her tiny panties was peeping out below it. Every time the neon sign above the club flashed on it lit up her body, illuminating the enticing area of pale thigh that showed between the tops of her dark stockings and the pelmet of black leather that was stretched taut over her hips.

She was clutching the front of her biker’s jacket together tightly and, as Halligan climbed out of his Jaguar, his cock gave an excited kick as he realised she wore nothing beneath it.

When he approached the doorway, the girl caught his eye and, with a single practised movement, draped herself round him, slithering her long high-heeled leg up his thigh. Somehow, even before he knew it, she had his hand and was sliding it up inside her jacket, rubbing his palm over her bare breasts. It was a wintry night and her flesh was freezing, her nipples as blue and hard as ice cubes.

‘Your car looks nice and warm. Wanna take me for a ride?’

Halligan knew the girl would do anything he wanted if it meant getting off the chill street for a while. But reluctantly, he unwrapped the young whore’s limbs from his body.

‘Sorry, gorgeous. Some other time, maybe. I’m on business right now. Looking for a Terri Bizarre. This is her address, isn’t it?’

Pouting with disappointment, the girl moved to one side and uncovered a small plaque on the wall behind her that read:

Miss Terri Bizarre

Psychic Ultra-sensory Sexual Investigator

Office on First Floor

Halligan threw the girl a regretful smile and opened the door to climb the narrow stairs beyond. He’d been unsure about this whole idea before he arrived, and now he felt convinced he was making a mistake. He was going to need a lot of persuading before he told this Terri Bizarre anything of his business problems.

Reaching the door at the top of the stairs he hesitated again. Finally he knocked and entered. He found himself in a small room with a single window that looked onto the lurid rash of sleazy strip joints and sexshops outside. For a moment his attention was caught by the vibrant colours of their gaudy signs, then his eyes met those of the woman sitting at the overladen desk and he forgot everything else.

If he’d been expecting to find a toothless old crone poring over her crystal ball, it was time to think again. This young woman was stunning. An auburn-haired, green-eyed beauty.

When he saw her smile, he realised he’d been staring at her for a long time.

‘Mr Halligan? Please take a seat. I’m Terri Bizarre. I was most intrigued by your call.’

Halligan sat down, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the woman’s curvaceous body as she crossed over to a metal filing-cabinet. She wore a light silk blouse unbuttoned far enough to reveal the soft rounds of her breasts spilling out over the scalloped edges of her lacy white bra cups.

As she bent over to pull out the lowest drawer of the cabinet, her narrow black skirt rode up the backs of her thighs and tightened over the twin globes of her peachy bottom. It was impossible for him not to let his gaze follow the pencil line of her seamed stockings up under her skirt. He began to imagine what lay beneath.

‘They’re white. To match the bra.’

She’d spoken with her back to him, but now she straightened up and faced him.

‘My panties – they’re white. That was what you were wondering, wasn’t it?’

Halligan felt his face flush red.

‘Don’t be embarrassed, Mr Halligan. Virtually every man I’ve ever tried it on has fallen for the same trick. I’m afraid it’s just my slightly cheap way of demonstrating my powers to you. Your interest in my underwear was just the standard male reaction.’

He might be a standard male but Mike Halligan hadn’t become the boss of the fastest-growing technology company in Europe by being taken for a fool.

‘Excuse me, Miss Bizarre, but if my reaction is typical of the standard male, how does knowing that demonstrate these psychic talents you claim to possess?’

‘There is more, Mr Halligan,’ Terri answered him as she returned to her desk. ‘My intention was to arouse you by displaying my body to you. Like most men, the sight of it triggered your unconscious mind to recall a powerfully erotic incident from your past. And the second that sexual memory went through your mind, I was able to scan it and see it in my own imagination.’

‘So what was I thinking?’

‘You remembered something that happened ten years ago when you were just starting your business. An attractive new secretary came to work for you. She was very ambitious, prepared to get ahead any way she could. She volunteered to stay behind and do extra work. It was late at night and only you and she were left in the building.

‘She had come into your office to do some filing, but you didn’t pay much attention until you noticed that she’d placed the unsorted documents on the floor beside the filing cabinet so that she had to bend right over to pick up each one in turn.

‘It was the similarity between the view you had of my bottom and of hers that reminded you of it. Only she was dressed a little less modestly than me, wasn’t she?

‘Her skirt was a lot shorter than mine. And when she bent over you could see she wasn’t wearing panties beneath it. Every time she bobbed over you could see the black bush of her uncovered sex between her thighs. You knew she was doing it on purpose because you could see she was making herself so aroused her vulva was glinting pink and wet in the parting of her pubic hair.

‘You were quite a sexual adventurer in those days. And this was one wide and very open space you definitely wanted to explore. However, you had to be sure before you made your move, had to be cautious in case you were being prick-teased.

‘You did no more than watch her until all the files were finally put away and she went to leave the office. She didn’t look back as she reached the door, but she stopped for a moment and blatantly hitched her skirt up over her thighs as she went out. Showed you the whole of her bare bottom and offered herself to you.

‘Seconds later, you were up from your desk, pulling your clothes off feverishly, tugging your underpants over the flagpole of your penis.

‘You went out into the outer office, stark naked. You remember how your heart was thumping, how your cock was pulsing as you entered the room. The girl nearly fainted when she saw you. She stood up at her desk and instinctively backed away, but before she could do anything more your cock honed in on her quim like a heat-seeking missile and you were on her. You pushed yourself up behind her, practically ripped her blouse and bra off to get at her breasts. You made her gasp at the way you handled her so roughly.

‘You jerked her skirt up to reveal her buttocks and bunched the material into a crumpled band round her waist. Then you went into her from behind.

‘She was running wet, right round from her sex to her bottom. You stabbed straight into her until your belly was pressed against the damp crease of her buttocks. Then you mounted her like an animal, humping yourself into her savagely.

‘You had her so strongly, she couldn’t help sprawling forward over her desk. You forced her to lean on her old-fashioned typewriter, and she grasped the solid frame to steady herself. She called out as your violent lunges pressed her heavy breasts down on the cold chrome jamming the long studs of her nipples between the keys.

‘Her teats were trapped painfully against the workings of the old machine, but that only excited you more. With one arm curled under her belly, you found her large wet clitoris and began to roll it crudely with your fingertips. You toyed with the girl’s hard button remorselessly so that her legs gave way. Her thighs shuddering and her knees gaping weakly, she braced rod stiff as she felt herself falling. You gripped and held her still against the thrusts, working her hard until finally you made her climax all over your soaking hand. But, even then, you hadn’t finished with her. While she was clenching in orgasm, your palm gripped the whole throbbing vulva and squeezed it tight around your shaft. As you ejaculated your fingers sealed her sex up into a closed purse so you could revel in the depravity of filling it with your pumping come.’

Halligan knew his face had gone a deathly white. He may have once been a sexual adventurer, but he was a happily married man these days. And a lot of that happiness depended on the fact that his wife knew nothing of his many bachelor exploits.

‘How did you know . . .? Who told you . . .?’

‘You did, Mr Halligan. Just as I said, I was able to sense your fantasy. I don’t think I need to ask whether you’re convinced of my powers now.’

‘This is unbelievable. Incredible. Can you do that with anybody? Does it happen all the time?’

‘Luckily I’ve learnt to switch it on and off when I want. I think I’d go mad if I couldn’t. It would be unbearable to have to experience other people’s erotic fantasies all the time.’

‘Do you have other special powers?’

‘Even I don’t really know the limits of my abilities, Mr Halligan. All I can say is that I’m able to sense sexual auras. There are certain things I can do to enhance my powers. Techniques that allow me to pick up vibrations from objects and places that have been connected to erotic events.’

‘You mean go into a trance? Use some kind of self-hypnotism?’

Halligan saw Terri smile to herself. ‘I think it would be more accurate to call it putting myself into a relaxed state.’

‘And have you always had these powers or did you somehow develop them?’

‘Well, I wasn’t taught my skills by anyone, if that’s what you mean. I wasn’t born with them, either. It’s hard to explain because I only partially understand them. Let me explain . . .’

The truth is that I was ‘given’ my powers when I was 19 years old. Up to that age I was just as normal as everyone else. I was at university, studying Egyptology, and during the last summer of my course I managed to get myself on a real pyramid excavation. You can’t imagine how much competition there was to get on that dig. I had to sleep with practically every lecturer in the department to swing it!

I’m joking of course, but I would have done anything to get on that expedition because they were going to be working on the tomb of my special interest, the oracle priestess Herifnafu. I was excited because a previously undiscovered anti-chamber had just been located, leading off from the main burial room inside Herifnafu’s pyramid. It was a major find. The small entrance to the room had been cleverly concealed and the condition of the seals showed that the doorway had never been disturbed.

Everyone knew that the central position of the antechamber in the pyramid indicated that there was something of great value stored there. All the big names in Egyptology had assembled for the opening of the anti-chambers. There was an incredible sense of anticipation about the treasures that were going to be uncovered. So you can imagine how puzzled and disappointed everyone was when it was found that the room contained only a plain altar, a single onyx statue of Herifnafu and hundreds of rush baskets filled with papyrus scrolls.

The only unusual thing was the way the giant statue was positioned with her back right against the wall, presiding over the marble altar table. That, and the fact that the statue had been carved between the legs to give the priestess a grossly exaggerated pudendum. A huge clitoris and distended labia, with a deep circular hole where her vagina would have been.

I was only a very junior member of the team, not even allowed into the chamber until all the baskets had been removed and taken away to our laboratory. For the next month I was put to work with half-a-dozen other students, systematically cataloguing the contents. For all my interest it was a boring job. We weren’t allowed to unroll any of the scrolls, only count and label them.

Now, I have always had the feeling that I was somehow chosen for what happened next – that I was meant to come across the one priceless thing contained in Herifnafu’s tomb.

One evening, just before we were due to finish work, I noticed that there was something different about the last batch of scrolls I was lifting out of a basket. They felt much heavier than the others had done. Intrigued, I laid them out on my desk and began to check each one. It wasn’t long before I came to a scroll that appeared to be like the others, yet weighed almost as much as the others put together. When I examined it more closely I could see it wasn’t a roll of papyrus at all. It was some kind of container disguised as a scroll!

Even at the time, I knew it was wrong of me, but some emotion made me keep my find to myself. My work desk was in the corner of the room and everyone else was busy tidying up to go back to our tent camp. No one noticed me tug the end cap off the false scroll and slide out the long, carefully wrapped package hidden in the hollow tube. Through the loose bandaging I could feel some sort of smooth, slightly curved, rod with a bulge at each end. And from the weight I knew it was made of stone or something similar.

Hardly able to contain my excitement, I furtively unravelled the covering until I could see the end of the object. I was wrong about it being made of stone – it was actually a piece of bright red coral. But when I saw the tiny fluted slit carved in the helmet-domed tip, I knew what it was – a double-headed phallus! And, from my studies, I knew that hieroglyphs of the period often depicted Herifnafu curiously joined waist-to-waist with her Pharaoh Queen, Nerani, as the two naked women praised the heavens. Now I realised the true meaning of the pictures was that the high priestess must have lain with Nerani as part of some erotic religious ceremony, both of them sharing this phallus as they brought themselves to orgasm on its two-headed shaft.

My mind was filled with the vision of two dusky young females entwined together in some sacred royal shrine: the warm night air, heavy with the scent of the precious unguents smouldering in brass burners all around them, the wet-slicked coral shaft glistening in the flickering light of the temple oil lamps as it moved between their heaving bare bodies.

Then a new thought came into my mind. I remembered the socket-like hole in the statue in the ante-chamber, and saw that this was where the phallus was meant to be fitted. I realised that if it was put in place the other end of the shaft would stand erectly outwards.

What a tantalising link with ancient history was here offered to me, an incredible opportunity to impale myself on the self-same phallus used until climax by a Pharaoh Queen three thousand years ago. It was too tempting a sensual experience to resist.

I knew I would never have another chance once I’d told anyone else about my discovery. So I slipped the double dildo into my bag and hurried back to my tent, promising myself faithfully that the next day I would return the phallus to its imitation scroll container, and then pretend to come across it all over again.

Knowing I would have to wait until late at night before I could make my way to Herifnafu’s pyramid, I passed the time by cleaning the phallus and preparing it for use by oiling it with hand lotion. It was a truly beautiful object: perfectly balanced, the two identical heads of the shaft polished to porcelain smoothness. I could feel myself getting more and more excited at the prospect of secretly sliding its crimson length inside me, my cheeks flushing the same colour with the shameful admission that I now intended to take myself all the way to orgasm upon it.

At long last it grew dark enough for me to slip unnoticed out of the camp. I’d changed into a long brown Arabian robe I’d bought in the souk to take home as a present. For speed, I’d left behind my other clothes and was naked under the coarsely woven cotton. I carried the phallus in a leather shoulder bag, along with a torch and the hand lotion, though, by now I was so aroused I was sure I’d need no extra lubrication.

By moving in the shadows of the sand dunes, it was easy to reach the tomb entrance unseen. Getting into the pyramid was simplicity itself. During the day a guard was stationed there to keep out unwanted visitors, but at night no one was on duty. All I had to do was to climb over the token wooden barrier and walk inside.

I waited until I’d rounded two corners of the sand-strewn tunnel before I switched on the torch. I didn’t want light to shine back out of the entrance and alert anyone passing.

It was, as ever, eternal night in the windowless passageways of the pyramid. But maybe it was because I was alone and embarking on such an illicit, debauched mission that it felt so different there that evening. It was almost as if the whole place was alive.

It took me just over ten minutes to make my way through the maze of tunnels leading to the burial room and to climb through the hatchway into the ante-chamber.

There was a quickness to my movements now that I couldn’t fully account for. An urgency to carry out the wanton act I’d been imagining so feverishly.

I propped the torch on the altar table so that it illuminated the great stone figure and took the phallus from the bag. There was nothing to choose between the two heads, no reason to push one into the statue rather than the other. I just lifted it up as it came out of the bag, offered it up to Herifnafu’s tunnelled-out vulva and, centring one end of the dildo in the opening, I carefully slid it home. It fitted perfectly, gliding right in until the middle of the curved shaft just touched the cold onyx of Herifnafu’s fat labia and then locked lightly into place.

The bare end of the phallus projected from her sex just as I’d imagined it would. Just waiting to be taken. Almost shivering with excitement, I cast off my robe and moved in front of the towering statue.

Standing on the ground, my face was virtually level with the coral penis. I’d realised from the start that I was never going to be able to impale myself with it without somehow climbing up Herifnafu’s body. Now, when I examined the figure, I was surprised to find that two shallow niches had been carved into the outsides of her knees, exactly in the right place for me to use as stirrups. Scaling the front of the statue by using her pendulous breasts as handholds, I soon had myself positioned with my legs splayed around Herifnafu’s hips and my arms gripping her wide shoulders.

I had to hold my belly awkwardly away from the phallus until I steadied myself, but then all it took was a little movement of my hips to lift my sex up and cap it over the tip of the shaft.

I’d been right about how wet I was. As I pushed forward, the whole of the long smooth rod just disappeared inside me. Slid right in until my quim touched against the cool onyx, and I knew I’d taken it to the hilt.

I was very turned on by the idea of my sex kissing against Herifnafu’s just like Nerani’s had done all those centuries ago. With one last effort, . . .