Chapter 25

“Fuck!” Theo exclaimed.

They were right there, Sam and Aisling, and then they were gone, vanished into some office and Theo couldn’t find the camera for that room. It didn’t seem like one even existed. Surely not, there were cameras in almost every room besides on the very top floors. After a certain point, there was simply no surveillance. The privacy that comes with seniority maybe, or those cameras were not on the server. Either way, Theo’s focus lay elsewhere. On Aisling. And Sam.

“Where are they?” he muttered, stabbing at the mouse, clicking from camera to camera hoping to find some clue, but there was nothing. Wherever they were gone, Theo couldn’t find them. He wondered if Sam was ok. Maybe he could call her, but he might interrupt whatever was going on, if she were sneaking Ben out or something that might ruin her plans. Theo reached into his pocket instead, and pulled out the card Aisling gave him. Maybe he could call her. The scent of roses wafted into his nostrils and he inhaled, deeply. He held the card closer to his nose. Her scent, so intoxicating. He wondered if her hair smelled the same, if that scent fell down her neck over her chest and below. He imagined her copper hair.

Theo leaned back and let out a long, deep breath, then closed his eyes. He placed the card on the desk and wondered what to do. Aisling and Sam were together, working together. He couldn’t call her either. What would he even say? ‘Hey I saw you vanish into a room I can’t see and by the way I have access to every camera in your building. I hope that’s cool.’

It was stupid. He was so stupid. He could almost hear Aisling speaking the words to him.

“You stupid boy.”

Theo hated it. Hated hearing that. But something else flashed in his mind too. He pictured Aisling before him.

“Stupid, stupid boy. You deserve punishment.”

Theo’s hand found its way down to his crotch and he began to rub himself softly.

“I’m not stupid,” he said aloud in the empty apartment.

In his mind, Aisling smirked, and leaned down over him, her cleavage bared, her eyes wide with intent. Theo took another breath. Roses. Stupid.

“You are a moron, Theo. You shouldn’t be thinking for yourself.”

He wondered where the thought came from. It didn’t seem right. It went beyond fantasy. He couldn’t remember ever thinking that way, but Aisling made it sound right, even inside his head. That didn’t make it true though, did it? He was a strong man, fit and powerful, and smart. Smart enough to keep rubbing his crotch and just enjoy the fantasy of Aisling’s body. Her tight ass. Her big tits. That felt better. He could bend her over her desk in that office and show her who was really in charge. Theo found himself getting excited. He opened his pants and let his cock spring out, hard, standing to attention. Roses filled his nostrils, but Theo grew determined, determined to have the fantasy he chose. The fantasy of him pressing Aisling forward, holding the back of her neck in one hand, feeling her soft, silky hair sliding over his wrist. The other hand on her hip, pressing into the flesh, squeezing. Her skirt rode up her legs and Theo saw himself behind her, commanding, his cock free just as in reality, but instead of a hand on it, he moved it toward her. She had no panties on, and the skirt slid further up and revealed her wet pussy.

“Now you really need to be punished,” she said.

Theo, and fantasy Theo, paused. This was not part of the plan. She should be surrendering to his strength. She couldn’t possibly stop him.

“You want to do what? You’re sick,” she said.

In his fantasy Theo loosened his grip on her neck, and she looked back at him, eyes aflame with passion.

“Maybe I’d enjoy that, with a real man.”

Theo winced at the insult. His fantasy was no longer cooperating, but he wouldn’t do anything against her will.

“You thought that would make you a real man?” she snorted. “You disgust me.”

Theo’s hand on his cock slowed, he felt sick. In his mind a battle raged. He wanted to show Aisling he could be a strong, powerful, dominant man. He did not want to do something awful to her either. He wasn’t like that. Was he?

“It’s your twisted fantasy, loser,” Aisling said.

She leaned back, arching her body as she stood straight, backing into Theo. It was just a fantasy, he remembered as the scent of roses flooded his mind with different desires. Just a fantasy. Just a business card. Not her long, luxurious hair. Not her emerald eyes. Not her limber body. Not her curving hips and glistening pussy. Not her bouncing boobs. Not reality.

“Oh, but it could be, if you’d just accept what you really want.”

What did he want? Not to hurt her, not to force her. For her to be a willing submissive for him. For her to play along, even if she was clearly a dominant woman. Because he was a man, a strong man. He wasn’t some submissive little boy for a powerful, sexual woman. He didn’t want to fall to his knees and lick her pussy and make her feel good and forget about his own pleasure because hers is so much more important.

“Do it,” Aisling said.

Theo quivered. His pace quickened as he masturbated to the thought of that fantasy. That forbidden fruit. Of being what? A not-real man? The whole thing seemed so stupid. What would he even be? He wouldn’t stop being real.

“A beta male, Theo, not that such a stupid label means anything to me.”

He was not that. Never that. Theo was an alpha male. Strong. Dominant. But the scent of roses made him dizzy and maybe he’d be able to balance on his knees. But he was sitting in a chair. In his fantasy he sank.

“Pathetic, aren’t you?”

No. No.

“A beta male, a loser, a submissive little pig.”

Not that. Never that. Theo knelt before her, looking up at the most perfect woman he had ever seen. Aisling. A fantasy, a dream, a goddess.

“But you see Theo, real men aren’t as stupid as you. They don’t worry about what someone calls them. It’s just a game. A kink. You’re as real on your knees as you are pounding me from behind. Don’t you get it?”

Theo smiled; he felt better. As if something clicked and his fantasy became safe for him again. She was so right. Real men don’t care about something so stupid as whether they’re alpha or beta or anything. What do letters from a dead alphabet even matter anyway?

“That’s right Theo,” Aisling droned, “All that matters is me.”

He knew it, as he took another deep breath and inhaled the powerful scent from the business card that seemed to linger forever, only growing stronger as he grew weaker. He felt soft, pliable, empty. Well, almost all of him. His cock was rigid, twitching as he tugged on it. The more he thought of Aisling, of being beneath her, of her tits in his face, her pussy rubbing on his prick, the more it made sense to pump it harder and harder and cum for her and only her.

“Only me, but only the real me, not this fantasy.”

He could fight that. He could fight whatever weird mental block stopped him from cumming. He needed it. Needed the tension to go away and the feelings to change. He needed to be himself again. Who was he?”

“You’re mine,” Aisling stated coldly.

She turned around and placed a heeled foot on Theo’s shoulder, pressing him down, down onto his back. He couldn’t fight it, his hand moving faster in the fantasy and in reality. No matter where, he was hers. He watched as she knelt down over him, her thighs around him, her chest in full view, tits bulging from her blouse.

“Remember Theo, you still need to be punished.”

He looked up at her, his hand a blur, his mind in a haze of rose-scented pleasure. She was too powerful, too erotic, too sexual for him to resist. He knew that now. He knew he was whatever she told him to be. Whatever letter in the alphabet Aisling said, that’s what he’d be, and it felt so good to accept that.

“Feeling so good when you just accept that you want to be a submissive slave. A pet. A toy for me to use. I’m more powerful than you. I’m a fucking queen, and when you see me again, you’ll obey every word I say, do you understand me?”

He looked up at his queen with reverence and felt an orgasm approach. Felt his body clench and tighten, the blood rushing away from his empty mind.

“And your punishment,” she said, “is denial.”

Like a ghost, she vanished. The fantasy gone, as if it never existed. Theo looked down and found the business card was no longer on the desk and his pants were closed, his cock hard and pressing against them from inside. He wanted to finish so badly, but he couldn’t muster the energy, and the thought of Aisling simply would not return. Instead, he clicked through cameras again, desperately hoping to see her. Nothing, not a sign of her, or Sam. He couldn’t forget Sam.

In the back of his mind, he could almost hear a voice, faintly insulting him.

“Loser.”

Theo flexed, cracked his neck. Tried to quiet the voice.

“Pathetic.”

He closed his eyes, opened them again.

“Desperate.”

“Leave me alone!” he called out.

No one was there. Yet the voice had one more thing to say.

“Mine.”

After that, his mind cleared, the haze of arousal faded and Theo felt normal, relatively, again. Besides a dull ache between his legs. He could finish himself off but without the arousal he felt before all that feeling in his crotch gave him was anger, frustration bubbling over into a quiet, seething rage.

“Fucking stupid…”

Theo didn’t know if he felt angry at himself or at Aisling. She hadn’t done any of the things he thought about. It wasn’t even real. Why was he thinking those thoughts? Those weren’t always there, were they? It was so hard to tell what was real or fake anymore. He focused, took a breath, tried to remember why he was sitting at the computer in the first place.

Find Aisling. No. Find Ben.

Find Ben.