The Cellar City Chronicles

Giselle’s heels clicked like a metronome on the tile of the lab. It was already noon and the last three labs had been dead ends. Dr. Roedecker had been the most helpful and even then had been a complete waste of time.

Kept mumbling excuses about needing more time or getting blocked information, blah, blah, blah.

As she passed the emaciated little lab assistants, she could practically feel them undress her with their eyes. She saw one take off his glasses and wipe them down as if he couldn’t believe what he saw.

That was who she was gunning for.

“Dr….?” She began, coming to a graceful halt before him.

“Mckeeney. Dr. McKeeney..” He finished hastily, grinning from ear to ear. “How can I help you, Miss?”

Giselle smiled coyly at him, batting her eyelashes and casting her gaze to the floor. “Dr. Mckeeney, I’m from Mr. Jones’ offices. We sent something over to you earlier this morning?”

Dr. McKeeney blanched and then tried to hide his surprise with a cough into his hand. “Oh right, of course, please come this way.”

Giselle’s smile widened. At least they knew not to keep him waiting. The less they liked to keep M. Jones waiting, the less she had to wait.

Dr. McKeeney led her into a small office and shut the door behind them. Giselle picked a corner and idly examined the picture there – some brunette with a little girl on her knee, both smiling happily into the flash. How picturesque.

“I have a name for you, and the access code to the donor-database. But the sample itself is… well…” Dr. McKeeney droned.

Afterwards he mentioned something about platelets, or maybe it was plasma. He got a bit excited with the topic, constantly adjusting his glasses. As his face started to light up with the scientific nonsense, Giselle let out an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, fine, just give it to me.” She held out her hand and gave him a level stare.

Dr. McKeeney licked his lips, eyes running down the length of her body before he managed to squeal out some more words. “I was told that you would be attractive…”

Giselle’s eyes didn’t even flutter. “Flattered. Now give it.”

“But… I was told…” He fidgeted in place, skinny fingers running down his sides.

He must sweat when he’s nervous.

“I was told that if I got it done before noon that… that some really hot… ass… would be there to get it and…”

Giselle forced her lip down to keep from snarling, but her eyes flashed. The Dr. flinched. “And what, doctor?”

“…And that I could have some fun with it before sending it back.”

He looked her over again, but this time didn’t reach her face. He settled on the low hem of her blouse and the necklace dangling there. Giselle slowly lowered her hand.

“Oh, I see.” Giselle purred.

She smiled beguilingly at him and slowly turned away to re-address the corner she had been lingering in before. “Maybe you should get comfortable, Doctor.”

He made a surprised sound, like a kid at Christmas opening the gift he was looking for. Giselle’s eyes graced over the several items tucked in this corner, and she cocked her hip out so he could see the full line of her back. She heard the rustle of fabric.

She settled on one item, and she stared at it. “I bet you’re enormous.” She murmured, tilting her head to the side, and pulling a dramatic groan from her throat, hoping the display of skin as her hair drifted out of the way would get him going.

Dr. McKeeney didn’t say anything, but she could hear his breathing. She could hear his deep, rasping breaths as if they were in bed together. Giselle focused on it, that lust in his breath, the sound of shuffling fabric, like a hand massaging his pants –

That was probably what he was doing. Giselle could tell; he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of her. He wanted to be ready for her when she turned around.

Giselle rolled her neck, letting her hands run over her blouse and up around her neck to lift her hair. She posed with one leg out, hip cocked, arms full of hair and shoulders back. “Do you want me Doctor?” Giselle panted, letting him have a good look at her.

“Oh yeah. Yes.” Dr. McKeeney muttered desire thick in his inexperienced throat.

Giselle locked eyes with the brunette and the little girl in the picture. She had stared at them this whole time. She wouldn’t forget their faces.

“Come over here. Let’s play Doctor.” Giselle tilted her head back to let her hair fall again, and brought her hands to rest on the shelf, pushing her ass out and parting her legs like a true porn star. She could hear the Doctor hastily trying to get to her, probably tripping around the pants that were still wrapped around his ankles.

She kept speaking, kept urging him on, gyrating her hips towards him and arching her back. “I know you want to touch me Doctor. You want to put your hands all over me. Oh, God Doctor, I think I need an injection…”

Finally he was there, she could feel his hands grab her hips, then run up under her shirt and grasp her breasts.

Giselle still stared at the brunette in the picture.

As the Doctor started to rub himself up against her hip, Giselle let herself slip out the occasional teasing moan. She let his hands roam her body, touching her neck, face, breasts, hips and just a fraction lower. But as he did she moved her hands to grasp the picture frame.

“Oh God, Doctor.” Giselle moaned. She then abruptly threw out her hip to check him in the groin.

Dr. McKeeney grunted and stumbled a fraction of an inch away. Giselle closed the gap by turning towards him and bringing the picture frame around to the side of his face.

His glasses skittered across the floor. “Oh God, Doctor, Harder!” Giselle moaned, throwing her hair over her shoulder, and allowing her face to twist into a smile.

The doctor stumbled back towards his desk, holding the side of his face. His eyes were wide with shock, but he didn’t have time to call out.

“C’mon Doctor, HARDER!” Giselle exclaimed, groaning animatedly as she threw out a straight kick to the doctor’s chest, throwing him backwards into the edge of the desk.

The Doctor yelped in pain, and Giselle closed the gap.

“Yes, Oh God, Fuck me!” Giselle’s volume started to rise, and as the words came out the picture frame came down, cracking and splintering on the Doctor’s cheekbone.

The Doctor was thrown to the floor, pants around his ankles, arm raised to fend her off. But in a fluid motion, one well practiced, Giselle hooked his wrist with one heel and pushed it to the ground, pinning it painfully to the floor under one foot.

“Oooh yeah!” Giselle moaned, eyes rolling back with a flutter as the rest of the picture frame descended again into the Doctor’s chest, a splinter of glass flicking blood across the Doctor’s nice white jacket. “Ooh God, yes, YES!”

Giselle brought the frame down with every word, and every word grew louder and louder until she just let out a scream of pleasure, the ecstasy trembling right down to her toes. Giselle dropped the frame on the Doctor’s chest and arched her back, feeling the warmth spread from right inside her pelvis.

She shivered, letting her hands fall to the top of the desk to support her trembling body.

Dr. McKeeney whimpered from the floor.

Giselle took a moment to compose herself, another shudder running through her as she moved her legs and strode to the far side of the desk.

Right on top was a brown envelope marked with ‘M. J.’ Giselle picked it up and briefly examined it before taking a deep, refreshing breath. She smiled.

As Giselle reached the door, she turned and looked back at the Doctor, curled in the fetal position before the desk. He was cradling the remains of the picture frame. The sight brought the cruelty to her lips, painting her face with an irresistible sheen of oily darkness; the one that so many people she had either killed or fucked had said was pure evil.

“Doctor McKeeney.” Giselle stated, getting his immediate attention.

He stared at her, unmoving.

“Was it good for you?” Giselle purred, then a bubbling laugh rose up from her throat, and she flung the door open.

All eyes were on her as she giggled under her breath down the hall. She left the door to Dr. McKeeney’s office wide open. All the lustful or disapproving faces, when they had finished gasping in surprise at her, turned to the office she had just exited.

Giselle left the lab without further molestation.

Play games with me, Martin? I can play games. You think you can sell me off? We’ll see whose Kingdom this really is, Martin.