Dark Desires

by Ray Gordon

  'Phone you? No, I don't know your number. I don't even know where you live. I happened to see you in the park with another girl and thought I'd come back. I've been back several times, hanging around, hoping that I'd see you.'

  'You didn't know I'd be here, then?'

  'How could I have known? It was on the off-chance that we met. I happened to see you on the bench and... well, you know the rest.'

  'I see,' Samantha murmured, wondering whether he'd spied through the gap in the fence and seen her antics with Anne and other men. 'Where was I when you saw me with my friend?'

  'In the park, as I said.'

  'Yes, but... where, exactly?'

  'Walking towards the road.'

  'Did you follow me home?'

  'Sam, I've already said that I don't know where you live. No matter what you might think, I'm not into stalking. Besides, what good would it have done me to follow you home?'

  'You've seen me around before. You obviously realized that you fancied me and... You might have thought about calling at my flat.'

  'Hardly. For all I knew, you might have been married or something. Imagine me knocking on your door and being confronted by your husband. Or you might have been living with your parents. God, imagine your father opening the door and finding me on the step. I'll bet he's younger than I am. I'm telling you the truth, Sam. Everything I've said is true. Yes, I am married. My wife doesn't like me. When we met, I suppose we thought we were in love. We were still in our teens - what did we know? Now I realize that we weren't even friends, let alone lovers.'

  'How long have you been married?'

  'Thirty-five years. Like I said, I've seen you around town and... to be honest, I fancied you something terrible. Obviously, I still do. More so than ever now that we've... well, you know.'

  'How old are you?'

  'Fifty-two.'

  'You'll be pleased to hear that my father is older than you. And he's going to run off with some younger girl or other.'

  'I'm sorry to hear that.'

  'That's in the future... I mean, he's not going off just yet.'

  'Sam, I'd better be going. I want to stay but... This isn't a good idea. No matter how old your father is, I'm still old enough to be your parent.'

  'So?'

  'So... we're years apart, Sam. Generations apart.'

  'Only one generation. Look, you don't have to worry about your age. It's how well we get on together that matters. We certainly get on all right sexually,' she giggled.

  'Yes, we do. So, you want to see me again?'

  'Of course I do, Rob. I don't just go around fucking men without having any feelings for them,' she lied, crossing her fingers behind her back. 'I have real feelings for you, Rob. It's early days yet and I'm not sure what those feelings are, but...'

  'OK, we'll meet here again,' he said, his girl-wet face beaming.

  'Yes, yes, we will. Perhaps tomorrow morning, if you can get out of the house?'

  'That's easy,' he laughed, standing and buckling his belt. 'She wants me out of the house. The more often, the better.'

  'OK, we'll say about ten o'clock.'

  'Right, I'll be here. Shall I walk with you?'

  'No, no. I'm going to sit here for a while and watch the trains.'

  'You need to think about this man who's threatening you?'

  'I suppose so.'

  'I'll leave you with your thoughts, Sam. You'd, er... you'd better get dressed,' he chuckled as he moved to the gap in the fence. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

  'Take care, Rob. And, thanks.'

  'Thank you. Until tomorrow.'

  When he'd gone, Samantha dressed and brushed her long blonde hair back with her fingers. She liked Rob. No matter how old he was, she liked him. More than liked him, she realized, lying on the grass and closing her eyes. Listening to another train trundling through the cutting, the sun warming her, she wished that she'd never seen the future. Knowing what was to come wouldn't do her any good, she decided. The dancing school, the mansion, John...

  Wondering what the future held as far as Rob was concerned, she grinned. She really didn't want to know, she mused. It was best to live for the moment. Enjoy what she had while she had it. If it fell apart within a month or two, there'd be nothing lost. Love? She pondered on the word. Was she in love? She'd thought that she'd been in love with Zak but... There again, perhaps she hadn't really thought that. Perhaps she'd known that she wasn't in love with him. She wondered - had she ever been in love? No, she hadn't, she decided.

  Anne would be wondering where she was, she thought, checking her watch. But the girl would just have to wonder for a while longer. Samantha needed to relax, to spend some time alone with her thoughts and unwind. Quite a lot had happened since she first went to the mansion, she reflected. More than enough to fill a lifetime. Sex with men and women, whipping, caning, anal-fucking, mouth-spunking, clit-licking... Would Rob still want her if he discovered the sordid truth? Would anyone want her if they knew about... Anne would, she mused, drifting in and out of sleep.

  Plans had to be made she knew as she listened to the birds singing. The girl behind the paint factory... Samantha would never forgive herself if the girl died. She'd try to talk to her. Frightening her off by threatening her with the police might work, she mused. Perhaps she'd already found somewhere else to sleep. If the woman on the reception desk had gone to chase the kids away from behind the building, she might have bumped into the girl and... Sleep engulfing her as the sun warmed her body, Samantha dreamed her dreams of sex and orgasms. And fires.

  Chapter 11

  'Morning, Dave,' Samantha trilled as she breezed into his office.

  'Er... who are you? Oh, yes. You used to work here,' he quipped.

  'Shut up, Dave. OK, here's the story,' she said, passing him several sheets of A4 paper.

  'What story? What's this? Bosses were warned of fire. What bosses, where?'

  'Read it and you'll find out.'

  'The paint factory? But there hasn't been a fire.'

  'No, but there will be. I contacted the local fire station. The fire inspector has told the company to clear the dumping ground behind the factory. And the receptionist said that—'

  'Sammy baby, there hasn't been a fire. How can I run a story—?'

  'Run the story after the fire, silly.'

  'But...'

  'There was a girl sleeping rough behind the factory. I rang the police and they're going to deal with her.'

  'What?'

  'All will be revealed before long.'

  'You're not saying that you're going to start the fire, are you? I know we need to sell papers but—'

  'Of course I'm not. Right, I have work to do. See you.'

  'Wait... Sammy, where are you going?'

  'To buy a can of petrol and some matches. I'll keep you posted.'

  Leaving the office, Samantha wondered whether Anne had woken up as she drove to her flat. The girl had gone to bed by the time Samantha had got back from the park, presumably because she was exhausted after her sex sessions. Wondering about the blackmailer as she let herself into the flat and made a cup of coffee, Samantha again reckoned that he must have seen her in the park with Rob and had decided not to approach her. Perhaps he'd ring again, she thought, deciding not to arrange to meet him again. If he went to Anne's parents with his insane allegations about their daughter, they'd send him packing. Turning as the phone rang, Samantha gazed at the instrument, sure it was the blackmailer calling with more threats.

  'Hello,' she murmured, her trembling hand pressing the receiver to her ear.

  'Hi, Sam,' Jane trilled. 'How are you?'

  'Oh... er, I'm fine.'

  'I thought I'd give you a ring to find out how you're getting on with your story.'

  'Story?'

  'Your investigation into this den of iniquity involving a schoolteacher or whatever it was.'

  'Oh, that. I'm getting there, but progress is slow. How's Geoff?'

  'He's all right. So, have you disco
vered any more?'

  'I have one or two leads to follow up. It's all rather hush-hush at the moment.'

  'Oh, do tell me. I'm intrigued.'

  'I'd rather not say anything just yet, Jane.'

  'I had a diary stolen from my place.'

  'Really? What, you've had burglars?'

  'And a phone call was made from here.'

  'What do you, mean?'

  'I was just wondering whether you'd been here, Sam.'

  'Yes, I came to see you. You must remember—'

  'I mean, when I was out.'

  'No, I've not called when you've been out. Hang on. Are you suggesting that I broke in?'

  'No, no. It's just that... A blonde woman fitting your description arranged to meet a friend of mine. They met in a wine bar and—'

  'I'm sorry, Jane. You've completely lost me. What have your friend and a wine bar got to do with the burglary?'

  'That's what I want to know. Do you have a mobile phone?'

  'Yes, of course.'

  'Is the number—?'

  'Hang on, Jane. My phone was stolen a week ago. I've just got a new phone and a new number.'

  'Oh, I see. It's just that my friend was given the mobile number by someone pretending to be me. They were using my home phone.'

  'This is becoming incredibly complicated, Jane,' Samantha sighed. 'My mobile was stolen from my car so I would imagine that it was a local thief. There again, it's quite a coincidence that my stolen phone and your friend... Anyway, who would want to steal your diary?'

  'I really don't know. The thing is, Geoff and I do have a little sideline we run from home.'

  'A sideline?'

  'As you're looking into this den of iniquity thing... Why don't you come round and we'll have a chat?'

  'All right,' Samantha said, thinking that this could be a trap. 'About fifteen minutes?'

  'Yes, yes, that's fine.'

  'OK, see you soon.'

  Hanging up, Samantha bit her lip. What with the dancing school and the problems with Anne's untimely arrival, she'd pushed Jane's illicit exploits to the back of her mind. Grabbing her keys, she left the flat and walked down the street. On reflection, she became uncertain whether this was a trap. How could it be? Jane would hardly imprison her in the torture chamber and... Or would she? The best thing to do would be to deny all knowledge of Jane's friend. The friend was obviously Kitty, she mused. But if Kitty was there waiting for her... That was a bridge she might have to cross.

  Deciding to cut through the park, she looked about her as she headed for the bench. It was another hot summer day, and she recalled lying on the soft grass by the railway cutting with Rob pleasuring the most private part of her with his tongue. Half hoping to bump into him again, she knew that speaking to Jane was more important than having sex in the park. Maybe she'd come back via the park, she thought, following the fence to the railway bridge.

  'Oh, hi,' Jane said, smiling as she opened the front door. 'Come in. I've put the kettle on.'

  'Thanks,' Samantha said, following the woman into the kitchen. 'I was thinking about the break-in. There's been a spate of burglaries in the area. Your diary, my mobile phone... I suppose it's a sign of the times.'

  'I don't think my break-in was an opportunist thief,' Jane said mysteriously. 'I reckon someone was actually looking for my diary.'

  'Why on earth would anyone do that? I mean, dental appointments, hairdresser... No one would be interested, Jane.'

  'There was far more in my diary than dental appointments, Sam.'

  'Oh? You've not been having an affair? Perhaps Geoff got a private detective onto you and—'

  'That's ridiculous,' Jane laughed. 'No, no, you don't understand. Kitty, this friend of mine... I'm going to be honest with you, Sam. But first, you must tell me all you know about this den-of-iniquity business.'

  'What is your interest in that?' Samantha asked. 'You seem to be—'

  'I know who's involved,' Jane cut in. 'I... if I'm not careful, I could be implicated.'

  'What?'

  'Just tell me what you've discovered. More to the point, tell me who else knows about this.'

  'It's nothing more than a couple of vague leads, Jane. Yes, there is a house in this area that is being used by a married couple to abuse girls. Yes, there is a schoolteacher involved... How on earth could you be implicated?'

  'Kitty is the schoolteacher and this is the house,' Jane confessed. 'Geoff and I are the married couple.'

  'God,' Samantha gasped, her eyes wide as she feigned shock. 'So, you mean to say that...'

  'It's all perfectly legal. Or it was. For the time being, due to this coming to light, we've dismantled the sex den.'

  'You had a sex den?'

  'It was only for fun, for goodness sake. Geoff and I like others to join in with our sex games. That's all it was. The girls were all eighteen or older and...'

  'I see,' Samantha breathed, wondering why the woman had owned up.

  'Once the newspaper... once you realize that there is no story, we'll probably carry on having our fun. This business about girls being abused is nonsense. We play adult games with consenting adults, Sam. The reason we dismantled the sex den was because some people might have got the wrong idea. Start talking about abusing girls and, well, you can understand why we've temporarily stopped our games.'

  'Yes, yes, I can. Do you know anything about a dancing school?'

  'A dancing school? No, I don't. What are you getting at?'

  'Oh, nothing. So there is no story after all?'

  'No, there isn't, Sam,' Jane sighed, obviously relieved. 'There never was a story. Not unless you think that playing adult games in the privacy of your own home should make newspaper headlines.'

  'No, of course not.'

  'So that's it. I've come clean. If you'll excuse the pun.'

  'The girl I spoke to...' Samantha murmured.

  'She told me that she'd been tied up and sexually abused.'

  'Well, I know nothing about that. Unfortunately, word does get around sometimes. She might have heard about our sex den and... I really don't know, Sam. Perhaps she overheard an adult talking about it. Some of our friends do have daughters. Needless to say, they're kept well away from here.'

  'Yes, of course. Well, I suppose that just about wraps it up.'

  'Yes, I think it does. There's your coffee.'

  'Thanks. I know you'll get your sex den going again.'

  'I hope so. There again...'

  'You will, believe me.'

  'You seem very sure.'

  'I am. Anyway, I'm going to have to find another juicy story.'

  'So you're definitely dropping this one?'

  'Yes, of course. Now you've told me that it's just fun between consenting adults, there's no point in going on with it.'

  'You'll have to come round one evening and... if you're into that sort of thing, of course.'

  'That might prove interesting,' Samantha giggled, sipping her coffee. 'On the other hand, I'm not sure that I'd want to...'

  'You won't know until you've tried it, Sam.'

  'No, I suppose not. Well, I have work to do,' Samantha said, finishing her coffee. 'I'd better be going.'

  'OK. It's been nice talking to you, Sam. We must meet up more often.'

  'Yes, we must.'

  'And I'm pleased to hear that you're no longer looking into sex dens and things.'

  'To be honest, I really didn't think I was going to get anywhere with it. OK, I'll be in touch.'

  As Jane saw her to the door, Samantha wondered whether the woman really knew the true ages of the girls. Perhaps she'd said that they were eighteen or so to lessen Samantha's interest. Whatever Jane thought didn't matter. She was having some fun with Geoff, harmless fun. The same applied to the dancing school, Samantha reflected. The punters were enjoying themselves, the girls were getting paid for having obscene sex, so what the hell?

  'Where have you been?' Anne asked as Samantha wandered into the kitchen.

  'Working,
' Samantha snapped. 'You're not my keeper, for fuck's sake. I do have to go to work sometimes, Anne.'

  'What, fucking in the park?'

  'No, no,' Samantha laughed, feeling a little less uptight. 'I've been working for the paper. I was up early this morning, typing up a story.'

  'Oh, right. Some man phoned.'

  'Why did you answer the phone? I told you not to...'

  'It kept ringing. On and on and on...'

  'Who was it?'

  'The man who reckons I'm Anne Wilkinson.'

  'Oh, God. What did he say?'

  'He wants me to meet him in the park.'

  'I reckon this man is going to become a nuisance. He already is a nuisance. What else did he say?'

  'He said he saw you yesterday with another man. I didn't know you'd taken someone to the park.'

  'I didn't. I bumped into a man and we got chatting, that was all. I did think that our blackmailer would back off when he realized I was with someone else.'

  'He said I was to go there alone and meet him by the bench.'

  'When?'

  'Now. He said he'd be waiting and I was to get there as soon as I could.'

  'That's odd,' Samantha breathed, checking her watch as she recalled that she'd arranged to meet Rob in the park at ten o'clock.

  'What's odd?'

  'When did he ring?'

  'About ten minutes ago. Why, Sam? What is it?'

  'I'm not sure. Perhaps it's just my suspicious mind doing overtime. All right, this is what we'll do. I'll go there and pretend that I'm Anne Wilkinson. I'm about the right age, aren't I?'

  'Well, yes, but—'

  'I'm the age you would have been by now and I'm blonde. I'll ask him why he's interested in me. I won't deny who I am. If I say I've been abroad and I've come back to see my family...'

  'I can feel confusion grabbing me, Sam.'

  'So can I,' Samantha laughed. 'Look, if he thinks I'm Anne Wilkinson, so what?'

  'But he's seen me, hasn't he? He thinks that I'm Anne. Sod it, I am Anne Wilkinson.'

  'All I can do is play it by ear. I'll try to confuse him.'

  'You've confused me all right. Look, I've got an idea. Say that you've come back to see your friends, not your family. If you tell him that you argued with your parents years ago and—'