Pierre

No one else to see what’s going on in room 202.

My sweaty fingers make prints on the cardboard. I can’t tear my eyes away. Dr Venska sits on the bed, perfectly visible from the window, and faces him. Her breasts are high and pert, and I can clearly see the dark red darts of her nipples. She lifts her hands and starts to massage her breasts, pushing them together, licking one finger and rubbing each nipple to make them harder. She’s talking, talking, all the time, in a low voice I can’t quite catch.

I pluck the pen from my breast pocket and dash off my own observations for today’s date.

‘Responsive today. Extremely responsive. See sex therapy. Hypnosis. Recommend introduction of hallucinogenics and stimulants.’

I stand up with the file, turn to tiptoe away.

Venska is still whispering. Pierre is not replying. Either he’s deep in a trance or he’s getting aroused, lost for words.

No wonder the door was locked.

Venska is leaning back and now she’s undoing her skirt. It falls open easily, and she parts her legs. I can see the white flesh sticking slightly before her thighs part. She hooks one finger into the little lace thong and pulls it aside. There’s a glimpse of blue-white pussy. Bare. Totally waxed.

I feel a punch of nausea. I step away, and notice too late that one more blank sheet is on the ground. I pick it up and, as I straighten, something – the whiteness of the paper, my movement – finally catches Dr Venska’s eye.

‘You! How long have you been hanging around out there?’

Her voice is a whiplash, screaming out of the room.

‘I was just coming to give you this!’ Thank God for the folder, my prop. I lift it, and wave the stray piece of paper. ‘The door was locked.’

She swears loudly, leans down to pick up her blouse from the floor and shoves her arms into it, buttons up her skirt, kicks her shoes back on.

‘Did it not occur to you that it was locked for a reason?’

‘The rules state that doors should never be locked, in case of emergency. Staff should always be able to get in –’

‘I am staff, you imbecile. And you? You were creeping around!’ She snaps, turning her back on Pierre and marching towards me. ‘You were spying on a confidential therapy session!’

‘It’s only spying when something nefarious is going on,’ Pierre says suddenly, his voice carrying across the room. ‘Who’s out there, anyway?’

‘The little cleaner. The drab one in the hideous uniform. The one you described as, now what was it? A hot piece of Italian ass when she comes out of her shell?’

‘He said what?’ I gasp, my cheeks burning.

‘Rosa?’ Pierre calls out. ‘Is that you?’

I step towards the door, but Dr Venska is still blocking my way. She scowls at me, at the new uniform that Nurse Jeannie gave me this morning. No longer so hideous, thank God.

‘Oh, don’t think you’re unique. He’d say that about anyone. Anything with a pussy and a pulse will do. All it proves is that my treatment is working.’

‘You mean I’m returning to my super-stud ways?’ snorts Pierre, but there’s an edge to his amusement, I can tell. ‘I can start chasing girls again? Oh, wait. I can’t walk.’

‘Oh, you’ll walk again, unfortunately for the female sex. And then it’ll be business as usual. You have me to thank for that, Mr Levi.’

‘Actually, it’s not you I wish to thank –’

‘You were broken when you came into this clinic. Head and heart. I brought you back. I showed you how to be a man again.’

‘What do you want, a round of applause?’ Pierre’s voice is dark. ‘It’s what you’re paid to do.’

Dr Venska takes my arm and pulls me into the room, over to the bed.

‘But I’m not paid to do the menial tasks.’ She shoves a bowl of soaps and gels into my hands. ‘I thought it would help. You know, water, bubbles, a bit of role play. But no, he won’t be touched.’

‘I could have told you that,’ I murmur, taking the equipment, avoiding Pierre’s eye. ‘It makes him feel degraded.’

‘Check you out in your bright white uniform, Cavalieri. Nicely tailored, sky-blue piping, the halo logo of the clinic right there on the pocket.’ Pierre whistles. ‘Cute little buttons instead of that rusty old zip.’

I blush. Run my hands down the softer fabric in an echo of what Dr Venska was doing to herself earlier.

‘It’s my reward for completing my probationary period.’

He nods. ‘And it makes you feminine rather than frumpy. Fits you like a glove.’

‘And talking of gloves,’ snaps Dr Venska, ‘he’s all yours. I’m done here.’

She rips a pair of latex gloves out of the packet and throws them at me.

‘Don’t you need this, doctor?’ I ask, holding out the folder. ‘For today’s session?’

Pierre sniggers. I risk glancing at him. His black eyes are dancing at me. He’s biting his lips hard to stop laughing. Dr Venska snatches the paperwork, unlocks the door and shoves her way past Nurse Jeannie, who steps inside the room, tutting.

‘What on earth is going on? What have you two done to Dr Venska?’

Pierre and I shrug at each other like naughty schoolkids.

‘Rosa was simply delivering some notes. Dr Venska is unhappy because I’m not responding as she would like to her suggested therapies,’ Pierre says after a moment, his face straight, his voice calm. ‘I think the legal term for someone like me is vexatious.’

Now it’s my turn to stifle a giggle. I cover it by pulling on the gloves and going to fill the bowl with water from the bathroom.

When I return Nurse Jeannie has gone. Pierre Levi is lying on his bed, the sheet rolled down and with it, oh God, his pyjama trousers. His cock isn’t erect but it’s long and firm, lying across his thigh. How could I have compared it unfavourably with Daniele’s aggressive little weapon? Even at rest this is a magnificent sword unsheathed, ready for engagement.

I can imagine my sister chortling at my overblown Sir Lancelot imagery. I must be more frustrated than I realised, because I can’t take my eyes off it.

‘What are you doing, Mr Levi? We agreed!’ I frown, standing by the door. ‘Cover yourself up!’

‘Strict orders. Nurse Jeannie’s doing spot checks this morning. Lucky you entered stage left just then, ready to perform my toilette,’ he says with a grin, folding his arms behind his head. ‘So you’d better get on with it, because she could be back any time!’

A spasm of desire drags at me at the sight of his nakedness, so brazen, so calm, the dark line of hair running down his flat stomach like an arrow aiming at the target, the black hair curling round something that I can imagine, oh so clearly, getting hard, hot, nudging against me pushing inside me –

I step closer, forcing my eyes up to his face.

‘I doubt she’ll be back. So we can stop pretending now, can’t we?’

He drops his hands, grabs for the sheet. ‘You’re repulsed. You can’t bear to touch me. God, I’m such a –’

Our clients are way more vulnerable than they care to admit.

‘No. No. No! Don’t you ever say that again! Don’t you ever think it!’ I’m there like a shot, taking the sheet from him, pulling it back down to reveal his nakedness. ‘I’m not repulsed. Look at you. Look at your cock. It’s beautiful.’

There’s a long pause. The room is thick with the silence. Outside a mower starts up and begins to carve green stripes in the lawn.

‘Rosie. You’re just being kind, but I –’

‘I’m not being kind. I’m being truthful. I only hesitated because you told me you didn’t want to be touched.’

The smile is fading. His black eyes are steady. They pull me towards him.

‘I’ve changed my mind. Take the gloves off, Rosie.’

I do what he asks, peeling the gloves off my fingers one by one.

His tongue runs across his lips, but I detect nervousness there as well as bravado.

We, the staff. We’re the strong ones.

‘You sure about this, Mr Levi?’

‘Despite your brave, encouraging words you still look as if you’d rather eat your own hair, Cavalieri, but yes, I want this. I want you to wash me. Please, Rosie. I won’t bite –’

‘Unless you want me to!’ We finish the sentence in unison.

But our smiles fade as I take hold of him. It’s so warm. I can feel the pulse throbbing through it. My sex tightens at the feel of it, at the intoxicating mixture of innocence and lust in the action I’m about to perform.

He’s got two broken legs. Post-traumatic stress. Insomnia. How dangerous can he be?

‘You’re not just a cleaner by the way, Rosie.’

‘My God. Everyone in here can read minds.’

You can’t deny the charisma’s still there. For those who could be susceptible.

‘Nurse Jeannie wouldn’t let you tend to me like this, on your own, if all you were good for was scrubbing the bogs.’

I squeeze soap on to him and rub along the shaft with the tips of my fingers. It shifts against his leg, stiffens with its forgotten strength, lifts into the palm of my hand. I swallow. This is a swifter reaction than last time. Beneath the soft new cotton of my uniform my pussy heats up equally swiftly, throbbing between my legs.

‘You came in the nick of time, Rosie. I thought Dr Venska was going to attack me.’

‘Seriously? It didn’t look like that to me. Quite the opposite, in fact.’

‘Just how much did you see, Rosie?’

He lies back and closes his eyes.

I rub at the soap, covering his cock with lather. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it properly.

‘I saw her taking her shirt off. And then her bra, and then I saw her touching herself. I assumed you had a, an arrangement. That this was your usual therapy.’

‘She hypnotised me, yes. I responded, but not to the extent she wanted.’ Pierre’s eyes flash open, burn into me. ‘Not like I respond to you, instantaneously. Like Pavlov’s dog.’

I cough, lower my eyes to the task in hand. ‘Pavlov’s dog?’

‘Pavlov was a scientist who conditioned his dogs to salivate instantly when he rang a bell, because through various connections they associated the bell with food.’

‘So am I the food or the bell?’ At least this daft conversation is distracting me from the erection growing slowly but surely in my hand.

He laughs. ‘Apparently the dogs started salivating whenever they saw the lab assistant. I like to think she was a female lab assistant – because they associated her with bringing the food.’

I laugh. ‘And Dr Venska couldn’t have worked this out as a solution?’

‘She’s not only incompetent, she’s violated every professional ethic in the book, but I’m not going to report her, and nor are you. Because I have only myself to blame.’ Pierre sighs and closes his eyes. ‘I’ve made her job impossible.’

I can focus better without those lovely black eyes boring into me. I can convince myself that he is just a patient. Client. Whatever.

‘Go on.’

‘That feels so good, Rosie. I can’t think why I told you to stop the other day.’

I soap the balls as gently as I can, but his cock is lifting, glistening with soap.

‘What’s really wrong with Dr Venska, Mr Levi? Why is she so angry?’

The rounded end of his knob is pushing out eagerly. I have a sudden, terrible urge to lick it.

I clench my teeth, dip the cloth into the warm water to rinse off the bubbles.

‘Because I turned her down. She was trying to seduce me, Rosie. She thought she could fuck me out of my sexless state.’

‘Sexless state? Nothing sexless about this!’

It’s out before I can stop it.

‘That’s your doing, Rosie. You and your sexy new uniform got me going. Not her.’

He is rigid now, pulsing in my hand.

‘Not sure you should be saying that, Mr Levi.’

It’s so gorgeous, so male, so phallic, perfectly shaped for penetration, pleasure. I can’t help it. I stroke it.

‘Not sure you should be doing that either, Cavalieri.’

I encircle it with my fingers more firmly and squeeze.

‘She was undressing in front of you, Mr Levi. I think it’s your turn to tell me a story.’

Pierre Levi groans.

‘How about this then, Scheherazade? If you hadn’t come wandering in from the garden at that precise moment, my shrink was going to go down on me.’

I start to rub the shaft, up to the end, and down again. He shifts in the bed, his eyes fluttering but still fixed on me. More colour than before streaks his cheeks.

‘Well, she does have sex therapist on her CV,’ I murmur, moving my hand up, down, up again. His cock is filling my small hand now, pushing out of my grip, pushing for something more. ‘Has she done that before?’

‘She’s touched herself up, yes. That’s why she dresses in those tarty little skirts. Easy access. She started off standing, then sitting in that visitor’s chair, and today she’d graduated to my bed. She pokes her fingers inside and she tells me to look at her. “Look at me, Levi,” she purrs. “Focus on me.”’

I giggle at his perfect imitation of her Eastern European accent. One hand wipes the soap off him, the other hand is fondling his stiffness, making it grow thicker, longer, making it harder, making it push and throb, searching for release.

‘She likes to show me every little bit. Her cunt. Her labia. All the time she tells me what she wants. I think she’s forgotten she’s supposed to be helping me. And yes, I get turned on, any man would, and yes, it’s a relief to know my responses are normal, as the medics say. But I’ve known that for – I’ve known that for a while now.’

‘How long? How long have you known that?’

My hand moves faster, faster, Pierre Levi is breathing heavily now. His hands come up as if to stop me, drop down again, start tugging at his pyjama jacket.

‘God, you’re wicked, Rosie. I don’t know if this is right, I’m not strong enough to stop you, even if I wanted to. What if Nurse Jeannie comes in?’

‘Just doing my job.’ I murmur, bringing my other hand into play now, massaging his balls, which are shrinking up into his body as the pleasure mounts. ‘So go on with the story.’

He groans. ‘One time she did the stripping thing and then she started gyrating in front of me like a lap dancer. She’s bloody good at it, and I should know. I’ve hired enough of them. In fact I would put money on her having worked as a stripper for real, maybe to earn money while she was training. Anyway she danced up to me, took my hands and put them on her bare buttocks, guiding them all over her to fondle her. It was the first time I’d touched a naked woman since –’

‘Since June?’

He nods, panting a little now.

‘She had her back to me, I was in the chair, I’m usually in the wheelchair for these sessions, it makes me feel less, you know, useless and helpless, and she lowered herself on to me. I was hard by then, Rosie, like I am now, and oh God, what are you doing?’

‘Keep talking.’ I’m nearly there. He’s bucking as I pull at him, up, down, the little bead glistening at the end. My gorgeous victim is biting his lip, groaning, covering his mouth to smother the sound.

‘Somehow she got my cock out of my PJs, I’m lying, I wasn’t as hard as this, not as hard as, oh, God, Rosie, stop, no, don’t stop, please, OK, she was like a gymnast on a beam, you know, because I was in the chair, so she had to grip the arms and balance on her high heels and I pushed myself between her white butt cheeks, her legs were spread so as not to put any weight on my sore legs, oh, she’s very flexible, you know, and then –’

I imagine myself, just for a moment, as Dr Venska. Rejoicing as this thick, pulsing shaft pushes up inside me. My pussy is wet now, my knickers sticky with desire, the remembered sensation of a man’s cock, thrusting with lust, hot for me, throbbing as he’s about to fuck me.

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