The Electra Project

This is my first foray into this genre, so particularly interested in feedback as to whether it works for you. Votes and comments as welcome as always, positive and negative.

*****

She was prettier than most of the previous interviewees. Younger too. Just turned twenty, according to the notes. Short hair, cut in an attractive bob. A black mini skirt that showcased some long, confident legs. And a tightly hugging blue top that seemed to suggest... at least a C cup? He thought so.

Not that any of that mattered, he reminded himself. What mattered was what she said. Her experiences. Her fantasies.

He smiled at her. "Come in Marie. Thanks so much for agreeing to participate."

She smiled back. An assured smile, he was pleased to see. When they smiled nervously, or not at all, it was often hard work getting answers out of them. This girl seemed much more relaxed, even a little cocky. He supposed when you were an attractive young woman in a world full of men and women who wanted to sleep with you, confidence was easy to come by.

"This is Cassie. She's my research assistant, who's going to be taking a few notes and perhaps asking some additional questions. But of course, she's also here to act as a kind of chaperone, to make sure you're comfortable and that we don't cross any boundaries you're not comfortable with."

Marie gave Cassie a friendly, appraising look. Then, without being asked, she settled herself into the chair in front of them and crossed her legs. She looked at them expectantly.

Yes, he was getting a good feeling about this one.

"So, Marie, as you know we're doing a scientific research project into some aspects of modern sexuality. In particular, we're interested in what's called the Electra Complex - where women, particularly young women, develop sexual fantasies based around father figures. We're not necessarily talking about incest, you understand - just an older male figure. Probably... around forty or upwards. And we're particularly interested in those early, formative experiences."

"Yes." Her voice was clear and she looked directly at him as she spoke. "That was all covered very clearly in the material that was given to me. I think I know what you're looking for."

Something in the way she said that gave Dr Harrison a small thrill down his spine. Of his interviewees so far - and he'd talked to nearly thirty now - there had been relatively little good material for his book. A few stolen glimpses of daddy in the shower, a handful of rather cliched affairs with older men at work... though there had been that one girl who specialised in having affairs with married men and then telling their wives. A real home-wrecker. She was going to be a chapter on her own. But this girl, Marie... yes, she definitely seemed very promising.

He cleared his throat. "That's good. I'm glad to hear it. However, I must emphasise" - he tried to look stern - "that we're only interested in genuine experiences and fantasies. Sometimes people when they're sitting where you are - well, they try and tell us what they think we want to hear."

Marie seemed amused. "I promise you, doctor, that everything I say in the next half an hour will be completely the truth."

"Excellent, excellent. Right - we'll make a start, shall we? Cassie - would you like to start the video recorder?"

Cassie got up and switched it on. She adjusted the focus slightly, then nodded at him. All set.

"So... Marie. Could you briefly tell us about yourself? You're twenty years old, and a university student. Are you currently in a relationship?"

"I have a couple of ongoing... arrangements, rather than relationships."

"I see." Though he didn't, really. "Could you, ah, explain that a little further?"

"Well, there's my boss at the bar where I work at the weekends. Leon. He's in his late thirties, so I guess he counts as far as your interests go. I sleep with him a few times a month, when I'm in the mood. He screws most of the girls there - well, he tries to."

Dr Harrison nodded. "And - you're not jealous of this?"

"No. I know at least one of the girls there is mad about him, so I don't let on to her that he's screwing me too. But I'm not fussed. I don't even like him that much, but he's..." She hesitated. "...really good in bed, so it's just fun when I need it."

"I see. And would you still have... formed this arrangement with him if, say, he had been a co-worker rather than your supervisor?"

Marie considered. "Good question. Maybe. But... the fact that he was the boss definitely increased the initial appeal."

Dr Harrison nodded, and pretended to make some notes on his clipboard. The candour of this young woman was refreshing. And also, he had to admit, rather arousing. Something about the matter-of-fact way in which she talked about her sex life... yes, very arousing indeed.

After studying his clipboard in what he hoped was a considered, professional manner, he looked up at her.

"And you say... that is just one of your... current arrangements?"

"Yes. The other main one I have is with Sara."

"I see. A... lesbian relationship."

Another flash of amusement. "That would be correct. Very lesbian."

"Obviously those relationships are not my primary focus here, but we do try and document a full sexual profile of our subjects... so would you mind telling me a little about Sara?"

"She's early forties. Very butch. She picked me up in a bar about six months ago. I was probably more like eighty/twenty then. In terms of whether I preferred men or women. But Sara... she was very experienced. She's probably made more like... sixty/forty. I still prefer men, but they're so much work sometimes. Either too mean and selfish or too needy. With Sara, it's just so easy. And god... she's amazing in bed."

Dr Harrison made another slightly incoherent scribble on his clipboard.

"And Sara is aware that your... relationship is not exclusive?"

"Oh yes."

"Interesting that she's an older woman... and you say 'very butch'. Does her 'butchness' increase her appeal to you?"

"You mean, is she some kind of weird father figure substitute?" He felt she was mocking him, and he flushed slightly. But her gaze was still friendly. He realised he liked her. It was hard not too.

"Well... I wouldn't put it quite in those terms... but in a manner of speaking, perhaps."

Marie looked up at the ceiling, considering. "No... I don't think so. I didn't really think she was my type when she first picked me up. But I was a bit tipsy and she was a good flirt, so I thought, you know - why not?"

Beside him, Cassie wriggled a little in her seat. He thought perhaps she was finding this conversation rather arousing too. He hoped so. Twice now, following some of the more intimate and frank interviews, they'd had passionate, animal sex on the floor of this very room immediately afterwards. Very unprofessional, of course, and each time they'd agreed they'd never do it again... but his cock stirred in his pants at the thought.

"Very interesting. Thank you. And those are your only current... arrangements?"

"At the moment, yes."

Something in the way she looked at him as she said that made his cock twitch again. God, she was a flirt, this one. Keep it professional, he told himself.

"So... perhaps we could move on to... some of your earlier experiences?"

"Sure. Happy to."

"Are your parents still married?"

"No. They divorced when I was eleven."

"And you lived with your mother?"

"I did. I'd see my dad every other weekend."

"And has your mother married again? I apologise if these questions seem rather... personal."

"I don't mind. No, she hasn't married again. She has a boyfriend though - they've been together for quite a while. Seven, eight years. So, I guess he's like my stepdad now."

"And your mother's boyfriend - did you resent him at first?"

She considered. "I don't think so. I remember being pleased that she was so excited about meeting him. She'd been so miserable... so no, I don't think I resented him."

"Do you find him attractive?"

For the first time Marie looked a little off-balance. "God! I don't think so. He's ok, but he's a bit of a slacker. Not my type. I never really think about him sexually."

Interesting how she qualified that last statement, he thought. "That's not the same as never thinking about him sexually, though, is it? So - you have had... occasional sexual thoughts about him?"

"I have sexual thoughts about everyone. I think we all do, if we're honest."

Her composure was back now. She was looking at him, challenging him to disagree. He decided to move on.

"How many sexual partners have you had? An approximate number is preferable, if you'd rather not say exactly."

"Let's say... more than ten and less than twenty."

"Thank you." Closer to twenty, he thought to himself. This was a girl who exuded sexual confidence. God, where were girls like you when I was a miserable, horny teenager?

"I'd like to talk about your first sexual experiences, if I may."

"Sure."

"When was the first time you had sexual relations?"

That was a clumsy phrase, he hated 'sexual relations', but it was better than 'when did you first suck a cock' or 'when did you first spread your legs wide and get fucked'. Though those were the phrases that were uppermost in his mind. The atmosphere in the room was definitely charged now. Cassie's breathing had become slightly shallower, and he guessed that if he reached over and stroked the front of her blouse, her nipples would be rock hard.

"Well... my first sexual experience with somebody else... I was eighteen. But it... I don't know if it's quite what you mean by 'sexual relations'."

"Perhaps just tell us anyway - we can decide on the relevance later. As I said, we try and have fully rounded picture of our subjects' sexual history, so if it's an incident you regard as important to your development, it's almost certainly of interest."

"Oh yes - it was definitely important to my development. I think about it nearly every day. Every time I masturbate. Which is most days."

He gave her his best encouraging smile. His cock was rock hard now. Whoever it was, he thought, whoever gave this girl her first meaningful sexual experience - he was a lucky bastard.

"We had this neighbour, Mr Franklin. He wanted me to call him Trevor, but I always thought of him as Mr Franklin. He was divorced, probably in his fifties. He was... very intelligent. Not bad looking, either. He read a lot. And he had more books than anybody I'd ever seen. He lived in a 3-bed house, just like ours, but two of his upstairs rooms were just like libraries, with comfy sofas and chairs you could sit on when you wanted to read something."

She smiled slightly, as if to herself. "He had books on everything. Architecture, Art, History, all the classic novels. And when he found out I was studying English and History, he said I was welcome to go around any time and help myself to his books. He only had two rules - the books had to stay there and I wasn't to bring any food with me. He hated his books getting messy."

"Do you think he had an ulterior motive in making this offer?"

"I don't think so... he was quite sweet, really. I think he wanted to help. But then, I've noticed men tend to be quite helpful towards young girls. So maybe he did."

I'll bet he did, he thought.

"Anyway, he gave me my own key - he was away a lot, and when he was at home he worked late in the office - so it was great, really. It was like my own personal study centre. Even when I didn't need one of his books I'd go and work there, because it was so nice and quiet and relaxed."

She paused. "Anyway, one day I was there, and feeling a bit... frisky. There's something very erotic about being in somebody else's house, isn't there?"

He made a non-committal gesture.

"I think there is, anyway. Something about being in their own private space... it feels very... intimate, somehow. I really liked it. And of course, that age, I was thinking about sex a lot. So I started... being a bit naughtier when I went round there."

Beside him, Cassie ran a tongue across her lower lip.

"And what did 'being a bit naughtier' consist of, Marie?"

"Well... to start with... I would take my knickers off. I'd walk around his house, go into all the rooms, feeling the air on me... down there... it felt so sexy!"

"Did you masturbate?"

She frowned. "I'm getting to that! Be patient."

He raised a hand in apology.

"No... I didn't masturbate in his house to start with. I don't know why. I felt that would be... crossing a line somehow. The first few weeks I would just walk around like that, with a skirt or a dress with nothing underneath it... Getting more and more turned on... and then I'd go home, go to my bedroom... and then yes, then I'd masturbate."

He scratched a note onto his clipboard. "But later on... your behaviour changed?"

"Yes. I got... more and more daring, I suppose. When it was just my knickers being off, I knew I could get away with it if anybody found me there - nobody would think to lift my skirt to check, would they? But I loved the riskiness of the whole thing, the danger... so I started pushing it further and further. What I did first, I remember, was go into one of his library rooms and take all my clothes off and stand there, completely naked, just for a minute. And then I'd put all my clothes back on. And then I'd go to another room, and do the same thing again. It probably sounds crazy, but god, it really turned me on."

Cassie spoke for the first time. "It doesn't sound crazy at all, Marie."

No, he thought. It sounds incredibly hot and it's making my cock so goddamn hard. He almost wished the interview was over - he was almost certain that Cassie would be up for a good hard fucking now. He could plunge into her, use her brutally, shoot inside her... it would feel so wonderful to release this tension.

But he knew he also desperately wanted to hear what else she had to say.

"And once I'd done that a few times, I started taking some more risks. I'd get undressed in one room, and then go round to all the other rooms, as quickly as I could. Counting them off, like a kind of kids' game, before running back to where my clothes were and putting them on again."

They'd placed a glass of water beside her chair, and Marie paused now to take a sip.

"The natural thing to do next was to start masturbating there. I looked forward to it every day. Every day I'd go around there for an hour - he was never home much before six. I'd take all my clothes off downstairs - that made it more dangerous, do you see? - and then I'd go upstairs, choose one of the rooms, and then decide where I'd get myself off. The sofas. The armchairs. Or sometimes... if I was feeling very randy and naughty... right in the middle of his bed."

Cassie made a small whimpering noise in her throat. He didn't think she was even aware she'd done it.

"I did wonder, sometimes, if he ever smelt me when he went to bed. That made it even better, of course. My orgasms were so intense, it was like an addiction. When we had to go out, or do something as a family, or if he was there and I couldn't go around to his house, it was awful. I'd be in such a bad mood. And that would make me take even more risks next time. It was like a kind of... slippery slope."

She giggled. "Not the best choice of words, perhaps."

They all laughed softly at that. No indeed, not the best choice of words, he thought, imagining the girl lying on the man's bed, stark naked, her legs spread wide, her fingers frantically rubbing away at her swollen, wet, slippery pussy...

"So... it was really my fault that he caught me. I was upstairs, I think in the smaller of the two rooms he used as a library, and I didn't have a stitch on. I was lying on the sofa... I remember I was face down, I was experimenting as to whether I came harder on my front or on my back - you'd have been proud of me, Doc, I was quite the little scientist... and then I heard the door open, and I heard him come in. Early, for once."

She stopped again. The silence was charged. Cassie leaned forward, as if worried she wouldn't hear what was coming next. To his surprise, he found he had too.

"There was no way he wasn't going to find me. I'd left all my clothes downstairs. On the bottom stair, in fact. I thought he'd call up when he saw them, and it would be a terrible, excruciating scene, and he'd tell mum and I would just DIE, you know?

"But it didn't go like that at all. He just came quietly up the stairs - I remember lying there, listening to those footsteps getting closer, thinking that maybe somehow he'd change his mind and go back downstairs and back out the door and my life wouldn't be a total humiliation... but he didn't. He just pushed the door open, and said, 'Hello Marie', as if it was perfectly normal for me to be there with nothing on."

She took another sip of water and leaned back in her chair.

"What do you think happened next?"

This irritated him. That wasn't how these interviews were supposed to work. But she knew she had them both in the palm of her hand. Speaking of her hands... he stared at them now. Those hands which had been masturbating so happily in that man's house. Smeared with her juice. He wondered what she tasted like.

Cassie said, "He blackmailed you into having sex with him?"

"No! I told you... he was quite nice really."

She looked at him expectantly. Your turn to guess, the look said.

"Well... perhaps he asked you to... pose for him? For some photographs, or something like that?"

"No. You're close, but not quite. What he wanted to do was to watch me."

"Watch you?"

"Yes... he wanted to watch me masturbate. In fact, what he said was, 'Marie, I'd really like it if you just carried on with what you were doing. Nobody needs to know, and I think maybe you'd like it too.' And he was completely right, of course. It was like the natural next step. After going round his house naked and then masturbating in all his rooms... masturbating in front of him was exactly what I wanted to do. I was bright red and horribly embarrassed - but there was no question that I wanted to do it."

She squirmed in her seat at the memory. "God, I came so hard. I thought my orgasms before were good, but they were nothing - NOTHING - compared the one I had with him that day. I thought I was going to faint."

"And he just sat there and watched you?" Cassie, her eyes bright, was leaning forward. All pretence at lofty scientific disinterest was long gone.

"Yes... just a bit closer than where the doc is sitting."

They both looked at him. Something had passed between the two girls in that moment, he felt, something unspoken. Whatever it was, control had passed from him to them. Or perhaps just to Marie.

"Move your chair a little further forward, Doc." Marie's eyes were bright. "That's it. And a bit closer still. Perfect. He never touched me, you know, but he said that sometimes he could smell me. Can you smell me?"

He thought he could, the faintest of musky aromas. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Of course," she said softly. "If you really wanted to know what it was like, we should re-enact it properly. Would that be helpful to your study, Doctor?"

"Yes," he managed, his voice suddenly very dry. "That would be... extremely helpful."

"Then I need to be naked, don't I?"

Without waiting for confirmation, she stood up and stepped out of her shoes. Then she slid down her skirt. Even before she did so he guessed that she wasn't going to be wearing underwear, and he was right. There it was, a perfectly shaved, smooth, pussy at the juncture of those lovely legs. Then she reached up and took off her t-shirt. She wore a simple white bra underneath. She started to take it off, and then looked at Cassie.