Excerpt
from the opening of:
“A
Close Encounter of the 4th Kind”
‘Now take off your clothes and lie down on the cross,’
Fennimore said.
Lynda Drake stared at her employer in
disbelief. ‘What did you say?’
Irritably Hugo Fennimore snapped: ‘you
heard me, Miss Drake. You know what’s at
stake: a possible close encounter class three.
They need to be properly invited to manifest themselves…’
Lynda and Fennimore stood on the
Hangleton Down in Wiltshire on a mild summer night. Hands free LED headlamp flashlights strapped
their foreheads illuminated the scene about them. In the vale below the down were the scattered
light of the village of Hangleton Underhill.
Lynda had helped Fennimore carry all his equipment up from where they
had left the Land Rover on the nearest road.
Cameras and sensors had been set out in a wide ring on the scrubby
grass. Then he had laid out a cross of
tinfoil over the apex of the narrow bow of the chalk-filled trench in the turf
that extended down the hill into the darkness and had hammered heavy tent
spikes into its corners. She had not
realized what they were for until now…
Fennimore’s sharp eyes narrowed, his
wild hair fluttering in the breeze.
‘What are you waiting for?’
‘Y… you’re actually asking me to take
my clothes off right now?’ Lynda said.
‘Are you frightened that I will take
advantage of you? You should know me
better by now. Do you want more money? I
thought I paid you perfectly adequately.
Very well then: a bonus of five hundred pounds for this special
service. I know you need it…’
Lynda did. That why she had taken the job with Fennimore
six weeks ago. She was twenty and badly
needed gap year work if she was to have any hope of going to college. He published an online newsletter called “The
Astral Investigator,” which was his mouthpiece for his speculations about
Atlantis, ley lines, extraterrestrials, ESP and numerous old myths and legends,
which he somehow believed were all interconnected. He needed a PA/secretary as he dashed about
Britain and sometimes Europe looking for the “truth” as he saw it. Fortunately he had a private income
sufficient to allow him indulge his obsession and could pay well. So Lynda had indulged his fantasies with a
straight face, although secretly she thought they were all crazy. Then the day before they had come to
Hangleton to follow up on recent reports of UFO sightings nearby...
‘Nobody else will see you,’ Fennimore
pointed out. ‘Your modesty would be a minor sacrificing in the cause of
revealing the greater truth!’
It was probably true that he had no
ulterior motive for asking her to strip and offer herself like a sacrifice to
the heavens, Lynda thought. Although he
was a wiry 45-year-old and not unattractive, he had not shown any sexual
interest in her. He could be intensely
annoying and carelessly rude, but all he cared about was his work. Lynda took a deep breath, feeling her cheeks
burning, and then nodded. ‘All right…
I’ll do it…’
While Fennimore watch impatiently, she
took off her headlamp, slipped off her anorak and then took off her sweater,
hiking boots and jeans. Her hands
trembled as she reached for the clasp of her bra and then she bit her lip and
pulled it off. Her panties followed a moment
later. And then she stood naked on this
deserted hillside in front of her employer.
Lynda had a pale complexion and a
bright face that typically appeared slightly nervous and anxious to
please. She had a slightly snubbed nose,
large brown eyes and a big hopeful smile.
Her wavy brown hair brushed her shoulders. Her body was already womanly with soft pale
breasts capped by large pink nipples.
She had a tight waist with a deep navel, pale fleshy buttocks and a thin
wispy pubic bush that expose the pink lips of her plump deep vulva.
None of this appeared to arouse any
carnal interest in Fennimore. He studied
her body in the light of his headlamp solely to make sure that she was suitable
for his purpose, and then he pointed at the cross of tinfoil.
‘Lie down on that and spread your arms
and legs wide,’ he commanded.
Trembling she obeyed. The foil crackled under her, highlighting her
body and reflecting its warmth back at her.
Fennimore fitted loops of rubber strapping to the rings of the tent pegs
and began fasting them to her wrists
‘W… what are you doing, Mr Fennimore?’
she asked anxiously.
‘You need to be securely held down in
case they try to levitate you,’ he said, binding more straps about her
ankles. ‘The longer they remain the more
data I can collect…’
He said it so reasonably, as if it was
quite obvious that what he was doing was perfectly sensible, that she felt
reassured for a few more seconds until she realized how exposed and alarmingly
helpless it made her. Lynda tugged on
the straps, but by then all her limbs were secured and the straps held her
spread wide.
Then Fennimore opened up one of the
packs they had brought up the hillside and drew out a large silver
vibrator. It had a pair of crocodile
clips with rubber tape wrapped over their jaws fixed to its base. An electrical flex trailed from it over to a
portable battery pack.
Lynda’s eyes bulged in alarm. ‘W… what’s that for?’
‘You heard about the conditions under
which they make their appearances. This
is to stimulate you to orgasm…’
That was too much! Five hundred pounds only brought so much
tolerance and humiliation. Lynda began
to tug frantically at her straps and shout:
‘No… that’s sick… I… I’ve change my mind… I won’t do it… You can’t make
me… umphhh!’
Fennimore had pulled a reel of heavy
duty silver repair tape from out of one of the capacious pockets in his anorak,
torn off a strip and slapped it across her lips.
‘Do you want to call unwanted
attention to yourself, or even worse drive them away with your wailing?’ he
scolded her. ‘Who knows what senses they
use or how sensitive they are? Nothing
must put them off…’
So saying he pushed the head of the
vibrator up into her cleft, making her pubic lips bulge as it penetrated
her. Lynda groaned at the horror of it
and then the feel of her nipples tingling and standing up in response. Fennimore drove the shaft in all the way into
her vagina until its base only protruded from her. Then he clamped the bulldog clips to her
outer labia, holding it in place. Lynda
whimpered as they bit into her soft flesh, feeling hot tears springing to her
eyes…
She was being used as flying saucer
bait…!