FIVE STEPS TO PARADISE
INTRODUCTION
Matt Coogan leads a frustrating life as a downtrodden employee of Women’s Glamour magazine. He has ambitions to be something greater but in the face of constant put-downs from his female colleagues, any chances of promotion seem doomed. However, all that changes when, one night, chasing links from his favourite erotica forum, he stumbles across the invitingly mysterious Gates of Paradise website. He is thus introduced to a world of erotic mind-control that could change his life forever.
FIRST STEP
The digital clock bleeped 1:00am.
“I should be in bed,” reflected Matt, as his index finger left-clicked on another page in his favourite forum. Popular amongst those in the know, the Dedicated Erotica Explorer Project was a hive of interesting international opinion on all varieties of erotica and – big plus – the lingua franca was English. Some of the spelling and turns of phrase would make a native speaker wince but as a source of hot links and discussions DEEP was unmatched.
Five Steps to Paradise
The link lit up under his cursor
Another day at the office was prospect enough for one more hit.
‘Please wear your headphones.’
‘For entry into Paradise, listen for the beeps and key in the correct number.’
‘Activate the speaker icon to continue.’
Novel!
Matt plugged in his headphones and clicked.
A wash of electronica built up out of the silence, echoing backwards and forwards in a strangely disconcerting symphony. On screen, a red pentagram emerged from the black background to fill his vision. Faintly but unmistakably he heard them: beep, beep, beep, beep. He keyed in the number 4. Instantly, the electronic concert changed form and swirled around in a new haunting pattern. He was not sure, but he thought he caught a moment of voices in the distance. The fourth outer-sector of the pentagram filled-in satisfyingly with solid red.
In a lower register now but still unmistakable: beep, beep. He keyed in 2. Again a change in the sounds and the centre of the pentagram filled with a pulsating multi-coloured blanket of colour, moving in harmony with the dizzying sounds in his head. The effect was almost like a window into another world…beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.
5…
1…
3…
Matt was captivated. His mind seemed somehow detached from his body.
A deeply attractive female voice spoke softly to him.
“Welcome to the Gates of Paradise!”
“You have passed the first test and may yet be granted five wishes!”
“Do you wish to proceed?”
Rather surprisingly, Matt felt a slight sensation of arousal in response to the husky tones penetrating his brain. The spiralling, kaleidoscopic pattern continued to draw him in and the symphony was now profoundly relaxing. He clicked “Yes”. Images and sounds flowed together, entrancing him further.
“I thought you would!”
“Your journey to Paradise will take five days and allow you to exploit five unique opportunities. Some societies might call them “wishes” but we have the means to unlock hidden powers of your brain for 24 hours at a time, permitting dreams to become reality. Be careful what you ‘wish’ for my friend. And beware also the final choice, for an entry into Paradise cannot be revoked!”
“Do wish to proceed?”
Out of the swirling pattern emerged a gate emblazoned with a large No. 1 outlined in flickering flames of amber. His brain was flooded with a whole new set of tones, somehow evoking memories of being happy and carefree.
Matt experienced a small frisson of alarm at those final words. He wondered for a moment if he should not just close down the page. But images of work at the Head Office of Women’s Glamour magazine surfaced to remind him of life’s realities. As one of the few token males in a woman’s world, Matty – for that’s how they referred to him – was surrounded daily by the barely disguised contempt of confident, high-achieving womanhood. For him, the so-called ‘glass ceiling’ was well and truly visible. If only there was a better way to a career in publishing in this city he would take it like a shot. Instead, his days were filled with menial jobs amounting to not much more than fetch and tidy-up. On the football field at college he may have been six foot tall but at Women’s Glamour he was one of Snow White’s less favourably endowed dwarves.
He moved the cursor over the gate and pressed…
The portal swung open to be replaced by a full-screen miasma of colour, pulsating in time to a swirling opus of tones and white noise.
“Make your wish,” spoke the Voice commandingly as, flowing out of the hypnotic sea, various options sailed into view: Fame… Fortune… Transformation… Vision… Telepathy…
Matt pursued his fateful choice and caught up with “Telepathy”.
Intense patterns…sounds…detachment…sleep…
The digital clock bleeped 7:00am and Matt woke up with a start. On the screen before him a simple message read:
“Telepathy is your power for today. Return by 1:00am or face the consequences.”
Still feeling rather groggy, Matt turned off the computer to rush through his morning routine before greeting a day like he’d never experienced before.
Sitting on the Metro as it rocked its noisy way into the heart of the city, he looked up to smile at the pretty brunette who had just greeted him. “Good morning Matt,” beamed his girlfriend Susan. Her new terracotta lipstick and carefully applied eye-liner exercised their usual uplifting effect. “You look like you had a late night,” she observed lightly.
Matt cast his early morning eye over her shapely thighs and extremely well proportioned ass. “Well, not too late but I’ll probably have to behave tonight and grab my full eight hours,” he replied in a reasonable tone.
Susan gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and sat down to apply a bit more blush.
While she stared closely into the mirror of her compact, Matt glanced down at her skirt, professionally tailored for the working girl but short enough to reveal the upper regions of possibly her best assets. He enjoyed the experience of letting his gaze roam down her legs. Her stockings, like her skirt, were black and glittered slightly in the morning light.
Suddenly, he held his breath with shock as his mind was filled with a powerful image of those legs spread apart, naked, as Susan held his erect penis close to her vagina just prior to penetration. Wrenching his gaze from the scene he stared wildly out of the carriage window. His mind raced as he weighed up the implications of what he instinctively knew had just occurred. He had focused on a part of her body and it had acted as a key to an erotic memory in her mind. But it was more than just an image – he was there as she had experienced it. These were Susan’s own sexual thoughts and experiences. The so-called “Gates to Paradise” were entrances to unheard-of erotic realms! His heart was beating strongly and he needed a few moments to calm down.
Could this really be happening?
Cautiously, he selected a rather attractive blonde sitting across the aisle and focused for a moment on her nicely balanced bosom. He reeled once more as they exposed themselves in front of his eyes: hanging soft, loose and pale above the mouth of her lover as she tempted him to suck the inviting buttons of her nipples. The man’s mouth rose up to oblige and Matt nearly had an orgasm on the spot. This was fucking un-be-liev-able! I’m a sexual telepath!!
“How do I look?”
“MATT!!”
“I said how do I look?”
He turned to Susan with a flushed expression and almost spluttered as he simply said, “Fine, you look fine.”
“Ok, see you for our date the day after tomorrow.” And with that she got up for her stop. He barely felt the parting kiss.
Entering the office still in a bit of a daze, Matt made for his desk.
“Think…think,” he cajoled himself. “The message said “Return by 1:00am or face the consequences”. If this is the power then I don’t want to face the consequences. Less than 16 hours to go. What to do? What to do?”
The answer hit him like a sledgehammer.
“Who in this office is the most stuck-up bitch? Who is the most inaccessible, hot piece of over-confident cunt in the building? Gemma McCreedy, that’s who. Well, bitch, I’m going to invade your space. You’ll never look at me with those “what’re-you-looking-at-you-piece-of-shit” eyes again. I’ll know your innermost secrets. And, once I know those I can mess with your mind big time, you pompous cow. A little rumour in the bar here, an email there – you’ll soon lose that famous composure.”
Almost despite himself, a revengeful grin spread slowly across Matt’s face as he leant back and swung expectantly on his cheap swivel chair. All he needed now was a spell with her in his sights.
“Matty!”
He lurched awkwardly out of his reverie. Joanna LeStrand, Section Head for the Eastern States, had shouted from beyond his plastic dividing screen. “Ms LeStrand?” he inquired, as he stood up to be seen.
“Matty, get some paper and a few pens together, I need another assistant in this emergency project meeting and you’ll do. Oh, and think about organising some refreshments in about an hour, will you?”
“Well don’t just stand there with your mouth open, GET IT SORTED!” She turned away dismissively, closely followed by her wimpy PA, Mike, who gave a smug backward glance and he disappeared in her Armani-doused wake.
“Cow!” thought Matt somewhat bitterly, as he gathered together the necessary bits of stationery, and promptly felt guilty about assessing a fellow male in such terms.
Three floors up, in the main conference room, Matt had just finished laying out the notepads and pens when Joanna’s entourage sailed in. Gemma McCreedy sat confidently by her side, looking as self-important as ever. Her auburn hair was coiffed into an elegant twisted bun. Matt couldn’t believe his luck. Carefully, he positioned himself so that he could focus on any part of her he desired. Joanna stood up and started to extol the virtues of some anti-ageing cream or other. Matt, meanwhile, prepared himself for a first step towards Paradise.
“Ok, Gemma my girl, let’s see what you’re really made of…
He looked closely at her hands, focusing on her carefully manicured nails. Once again another realm materialised before his eyes. He knew that the more he concentrated, the more complete the experience would become…
…Gemma reclined on a white fur rug before a roaring log fire. In her hand was a glass of Louis Chauray champagne, her French manicure contrasting gracefully with the gently bubbling golden liquid beneath. She was arrayed in a sophisticated white dress which complemented her amply-endowed feminine frame perfectly. Presentation was certainly one of her strengths. Moving the champagne flute to her glossy plum lips, she took a sip, allowing her green eyes to reflect the golden sparkle of the liquid itself. Someone was destined to be seduced, for sure.
An innately strong male hand gently relieved her of the glass, whilst the other circled her waist and pulled her unresisting body towards their owner’s well-defined torso, arms seemingly rippling beneath a tailored white cotton shirt. A plain black bow-tie hung loose at his neck, releasing the collar and revealing tell-tale signs of mature manhood. As their lips joined in a passionate kiss, Gemma thrust her breasts into his broad chest. Her mouth parted to allow his tongue to caress her own, each speaking to the other in their own passionate language.
An unexpected wave of weakness surprised Gemma as strong arms held her close, his neck dictating a pressure on her lips she could not deny. This was not how it was supposed to be. She was meant to be a honey trap for this senior executive of a rival publishing company. Pulling away from the kiss she quickly tried to regain some composure. Darren – for that was his name – held her eyes with his own deep-brown pools, his expression one of gentle affection, enhanced by a masculine inner-strength and confidence. Yet another wave of weakness invaded Gemma’s frame as some deep instinctual need for protection rose briefly but strongly to the surface. Wetness began to envelope her groin as an almost-forgotten ache insistently throbbed in the region of her upper legs.
Darren’s hands seemed to take on a knowing life of their own. His right hand moved round to the edge of Gemma’s left breast and, despite herself, she twisted slightly so that its full form fell easily into his cupped fingers. She inwardly cursed at the quiet moan that escaped from her throat as Darren’s hand gently squeezed, whilst his thumb and index finger expertly massaged the bullet-hard nipple.
Their lips and tongues met again in a burst of thirsty passion, allowing Darren to move his left hand under Gemma’s anxiously yielding posterior. She let out another moan, as she desperately probed deeply inside Darren’s mouth, exploring every curve of his delicious, powerful, loving tongue. Both were now on their knees as Darren took hold of Gemma’s backside and brought it firmly against his rock hard member. She nearly squealed with delight as his erect form etched its intentions against her lower abdomen. Any thought of controlling the situation was evaporating fast in the heat of full-blown sexual desire. Gemma was becoming putty in his hands. Mentally, she had submitted to her man. Whatever he wanted, he could have. Whatever his body commanded, she would carry out.
Gemma couldn’t believe the words coming from her own mouth as she exclaimed, “Oh Darren, yes! Please, yes! Take me; hold me; love me!”
“I have you my love,” said Darren with quiet strength and just the trace of an Austrian accent. “You are my woman. You are my property to protect and impregnate. You will open yourself to me. You cannot resist. You are pure woman. I am your man. You will obey. Obey my love!”
Gemma fell down a deep well of primal desire. She could not resist. Darren was her man. She was his woman. Darren would protect her. She would open for him and allow him to penetrate her innermost sanctum. Darren was her master!
“Yes, Darren. Please, Darren. I am open for you Darren. You are my man!”
Lost in the deep pools of his eyes, Gemma reached down and pulled off her dress. Darren removed his shirt and trousers. Then he released her breasts from their modern confinements and down they fell, pulling Gemma back to her primitive roots. He bent forward and held her left nipple in his mouth – the very one he had been previously massaging – manipulating it now with his well-practised tongue. Gemma simply cried out with ecstasy and reached down for his cock. She was soaking wet and brought his erect form close to her open, fluid vagina. The ache was unbearable. He MUST enter. Please enter.
Darren took hold of her hands, pinning them to the soft fur of the white rug.
“You are my woman, Gemma; you will allow me inside; I will control you,” he announced as he brought the tip of his penis in contact with Gemma’s swollen clit. A burst of stars momentarily obscured her vision.
“I am yours. Yours! Please enter my love,” pleaded Gemma as she thrust towards him and caught the tip of his cock in the entrance to her vagina. She squeezed and thrust again bringing him deeper inside. Darren pushed forwards and she almost fainted with pleasure. A first orgasmic wave exploded from the vicinity of her clit. Darren looked into her eyes and withdrew his manly extension to the outer rim of Gemma’s yearning vagina. Her expression pleaded silently for him to return but each time she thrust, he withdrew.
“You are my woman Gemma”
“I am your woman, Darren.” She felt him relent and move forward allowing deeper penetration. Inside, Gemma was screaming for full-blown intercourse. She ached. She quivered.
“You have an interesting new client on your books, tell me about him,” her man demanded. He pushed fully forward and Gemma groaned with pleasure, panting out who he was. “My woman must obey her man, tell me more,” said Darren repeatedly as he pushed again and again into her. Gemma received him hungrily and her will to resist collapsed utterly.
“Now my woman will cum for her man,” commanded Darren firmly and Gemma held him tight inside her incredibly sensitive nest until waves of convulsions, beginning deep inside her vagina emanated down her legs and throughout her entire body. A loud moan of sheer bliss was all that Gemma could express. Darren held her firmly until the pleasures had passed and then withdrew to get cleaned up for a meeting with his company boss. He had important news.
Matt came to in a welter of perspiration. His eyes wide with amazing revelations. Gemma had betrayed the Company! He knew who had taken her! His future was assured!