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her loins.
    ‘What are you thinking, Janet Angel?’ he said. Janet opened her mouth and tried to speak, but to no avail. The nerve-endings between her legs were becoming more and more alive as his eyes drained her with their unremitting stare. She swallowed hard. ‘You are thinking how much you would like to fuck this stranger, sitting in your room,’ the man continued as his voice became deeper and faded into a near-whisper. ‘You are imagining the taste of his cock, and wondering what it would feel like as it entered your lithe little body.’ He leant back and grinned malevolently. Janet began to breathe in short, sharp gasps. ‘Imagine it, Janet, long, thick and hard, slipping deep inside you, filling you completely.’
    She sensed the lips of her pussy opening within the constraints of the tight shorts. Her hands were still clasped between her thighs. She pressed them hard against her mound and began to tremble, not with fear, but with sheer, unsated lust. The man just stared at her. She knew that she wasn’t being hypnotised – that would be too easy an explanation for what was happening to her. No, she was transfixed and completely at the mercy of his all-consuming sexual presence.
    There were no more words. None were needed. Her cunt started to throb involuntarily. She moved her hands away from herself and lay back with her legs spread wide apart in blatant subservience. She saw him lick his lips slowly and imagined him slipping his long tongue inside her hot sheath. The heat within her loins grew in intensity and a burning itch clawed at the erect bud of her clitoris. The man’s eyes widened into a menacing leer.
    Suddenly, almost without warning, she was coming, without the slightest touch or caress. Resisting the temptation to rub herself with her fingers, she opened her legs even wider and thrust forward with her hips so that her tight shorts gripped her pussy like a lover’s hand. She threw her head back and grimaced as the sensation took hold of her every emotion. ‘Oh, my God!’ she moaned. ‘Oh, I don’t believe it!’ The force of the orgasm seemed to be unending. Janet thrust her hips up and down wildly as if she were attempting to drain some unseen lover. The man smiled proudly.
    Then it was over. She fell back into her seat exhausted . Her heart pounded within her chest and her skin seemed to be alive with sensation. She looked at the stranger through glazed eyes. The stare had lost its intensity, though none of its magnetic attraction.
    ‘You will come to Grantham Manor?’ he asked, simply. Janet nodded. ‘Persuade your friend,’ he said as he rose to his feet. ‘You will not regret your decision.’ He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small card. He handed it to Janet, who took it and tried vainly to focus her eyes on the wording.
    ‘Take the east-bound train to Doleham Halt tomorrow afternoon,’ he continued. ‘A car will collect you.’
    With that, the stranger made for the door and opened it. ‘May I know your name?’ asked Janet weakly, her voice shaking with emotion.
    ‘I am known as Mr Gee,’ he replied as he stepped out into the hallway. ‘You would find my full name unpronounceable. Until tomorrow, Janet Angel.’
    Then he was gone, and the room seemed incredibly empty. Janet looked again at the card, and this time managed to read the words: GRANTHAM MANOR, INSTITUTE FOR HEDONISTIC RELAXATION AND INSTRUCTION .
    As the train wound its way through the sun-baked Sussex countryside, Janet stared out of the window and pondered over the situation in which she and Lisa had found themselves. Yesterday, as she had explained the mysterious Mr Gee’s offer to her friend, it had all seemed perfectly reasonable but now, in the light of day, the doubts were beginning to set in. They knew nothing of him, nor his college and therapy centre, and only had his word that the President himself had recommended them to him. But he must have known that they had met the President and,