The following is a bit of alternative fiction based on certain characters from the Xenaverse. It is not meant to infringe on anyone else's rights.
Joni and Ms. Hardbody's discussion gave me a chance to think...sort of. My thought processes, such as they were at the moment, were on such a primal and urgent level that it was amazing that there was any amount of coherency. And it led me to one brazen conclusion.
"Joni, we have to talk! In private." I blurted, and I looked at all those screens. I pointed at the monitors, the security guards, everything, "without all ...this..in the way." It was, I knew, probably the wrong thing to say at the wrong time, but it was unavoidable. My mind was... made up. Talk or lose myself forever. Most people have to make the choice for sanity in the morning..I had to make it all day, everyday. It was harder than anyone would ever know.
You would think it would get easier....and it did. Somedays I hardly had to convince myself to come down from the precipice. But.. those were normal, good days.
This one had most definitely not been normal. I was still debating the good part.
The blonde who'd been part of my deepest fantasies turned hard brown eyes in my direction. Ms. Hardbody's jaw dropped in astonishment at my sudden shift in demeanor. Joni's voice was ice and it melted right through me, "That is Ms. Cirrah to you."
"Fine." I said. The quivering early warning signal of madness was past for the moment, but I didn't have time for games. Desire ran strong through my body, influencing every move, every thought, every decision. I probably looked like a paunchy cat about to maul someone with my claws. But even the friendliest most loving pussy can do hurt if she has to...
I didn't correct my statement and ignored the wide eyed stares of everyone in the security depot. Joni's lips thinned in displeasure. Her brown eyes flashed at my belligerence, and the familiar liberty I'd taken with her name. The damage, however, was done. Now everyone was staring at *me* with a sudden (very) curious respect and obvious anxiety on my behalf. I could tell they thought I was about to get chewed in a royal way. I probably was. But I didn't care.
"You," she snapped at another anonymous face, "Tell Dr. Pappas I'll be in my office for a bit with the new research director." Her smile was vicious, "I'm going to get to know her a little better." She pointed at Ms. Hardbody, "You take care of the rest of the clearance matters. You know how to do the rest." Then she flicked a pointy finger at me, "You, come with me." That same finger pointed me in the direction I was to go, as she flipped around and marched down the small corridor.
Gods! While I hated it when she was mad at me, I loved it when she was dominant. I followed with alacrity, passing by the agent without so much as twitching my head. I was focused on the sweet sway of hips, the way the fluorescent lights cooled the gold of Joni's hair, and my silent battle to remain civilized. Talk. All I had to do was talk. What was I going to talk about? I suddenly couldn't remember....
The door swooshed open for her and she led me into spacious accommodations. Her sculpted monster black desk took up a power position towards the left back corner, swooping in a long L shape. She had a set of monitors, all her own, dug deep into the right wall. These seemed to be watching the security room. That made sense. She had a huge window occupying some space in the back. It looked like it could be opened, but I doubted it could be. This was an office after all and it looked like a well used one. There were stacks of papers, folders, a couple of staplers. Office stuff. The floor was plush maroon carpeting. There were guest chairs and a sofa. She didn't wave me to one of them.
Instead she lifted a finger, gave me an unreadable look and said, "Wait." I stopped my forward momentum and put my mouth on pause. While I had every intention to get my say, if I could remember what it was supposed to be, I could be patient now. Then I watched as she went through some remarkable steps.
She flicked on some lowkey interior track lights. Pulled the vertical blinds down across the window, then slid some horizontal curtains to cover them. She turned off the monitors, threw what looked like a dishrag into the air (and I watched as it covered the camera with a most graceful landing), made two quick phone calls using codes that I didn't understand, and pressed some button that made the door click behind me and other various clicky swishy noises happened in the room that I couldn't identify. I knew two things at once. We were probably locked in here and this was probably as private as any office ever got in this building.
She sat casually upon the edge of her desk. Her arms were folded, with her fingers gracefully peeking over the edges. She spoke with a most noncasual authority, "I'm only going to tell you this once." Her voice stroked the hairs on my arms. I'm sure she didn't mean it that way. I could tell my breathing was changing. "Don't ever do that to me again."
I knew what she meant. I knew why she meant it. I nodded my head. For some reason my vocal cords had vanished and my tongue had become heavy in my mouth. I could feel the beads of sweat start.
She smiled in a false sweet way. Her white snow teeth sparkled at me. "So, Bernice," she said my name in such a way as to tell me that she remembered (a relief) and that I held no importance for her (an agony). "What do you need to talk to *me* about."
Truthfully, I don't remember moving. I just remember how crisp the fabric of her shirt felt under my fingers as the buttons pinged away and onto the carpet and how hot my face felt. Her lips were so soft under mine. I ground a kiss into them, the kind that scraped against teeth, then softened into something warm and wet. I remember grasping so tight the white fabric underneath her blazer that I my fingers ached and the way her legs smoothed against my skirt, making my stockings rasp.
"Tell me to stop!" I begged through desperate tears as my lips scored a path across her jaw, "Please!" I was entirely serious. I knew I could...if she said the word.. she just.. had to... please...
"NO!" she nearly shouted. Then, before I could move, she yanked me closer against her, grabbed my wrists and pushed my arms painfully away.
Well, I had asked.
But the answer wasn't what I expected. She didn't mean what I thought she meant.
I found myself on top of the desk. I heard the clatter thump whoosh of pencils rolling and staplers falling and paper drifting to the floor. In moments, one blonde hellcat was on top of me, returning favor for favor. It's amazing how loud buttons can be when they tear away from fabric. Her leg found it's place between mine. Her hands pushed my skirt up past my hips. My legs were positioned so my heels dug into the top of her desk. I hoped.. I hoped her desk was made of sturdy stuff.
I felt an electric tingle down my spine curl up into my womb and down into my cunt. Her kisses bolted right through me. I groaned, "Oh, Joni..." and felt her mouth pause on mine and lift. I looked up into a wild elfin face. Her blonde hair had gone unruly. She looked puzzled, truly enormously puzzled.
I felt...anxious, alarmed..needy. I needed her inside.. Now.. please.. Gods.. don't stop..
But she had.
She stared down at me, with a gaze that was almost soft. I could feel something sparking in me. It was so low.. but there.. I could feel it.. real.. there was...a real.. connection between us..not an almost. Not like Mel. This was.. this was.. It was..like the connection was tamped down to nonexistence, but it was there. The divinity. It was barely there, but I felt it, a spark. Real. She was.. she was the fire... she was...
Her voice seemed to scrape itself out of her mouth and her hands flattened on the length of my hair. Her face was so close to mine that our noses almost touched, but her eyes held no romance whatsoever. Only a demand... a need for an answer. "Have you been dreaming about me?"
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This page was last updated: July 12, 1998
ŠJuly 1998
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