by Monica Belle
When the time came to ‘do the nasty’, as he called it, I stood up and put my hand against the wall with my bottom stuck out towards him and the water trickling down between my cheeks. He gave a grunt of satisfaction at the sight, put his cock to me, and then deep up my pussy. I got my fucking, braced against the wall with my bum cheeks jiggling to the thrusts while he grunted and puffed his way to a noisy, gasping orgasm, pulling out at the last second to do it over my bottom.
An hour later I had a flight booked on his credit card and a hundred dollars in my pocket. Two hours later and we were discussing Dublin over a gourmet meal washed down with White Star Moet champagne. Three hours and I was giving him a genuinely affectionate peck on the cheek outside the hotel. Four, and I was at the airport. Five, in the air, on my way back to London.
I felt good. Not saintly good, but good all the same. I congratulated myself on my resourceful attitude. After all, I’d done what I had to do. It didn’t make me a bad person. It didn’t make me immoral. It made me strong.
9
10 September, 7.57 a.m. – Lucy Doyle is woken by the telephone.
10 September, 7.58 a.m. – Lucy Doyle prepares to be sacked, again.
I’D ESCAPED INAGUA, but it was rather a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire. As I touched down at Heathrow I was rather wishing I’d stayed, perhaps for the full two weeks until I was due to go up to uni, even if it did mean being merrily porked round the islands by Dirty Harry.
For one thing, I wasn’t supposed to be back, and there would have to be explanations. For another, although I’d squared things with Niall, Todd Byrne was still an issue, along with Luke, Keith, Richard Drake, Hilary Chalmers, maybe even Big Dog the rent boy and Aaron of the big black cock. Thirdly, there was Super Staff, because I couldn’t see Charles King just letting it go.
Sure enough, when the phone rang before eight on the Friday morning it was Maryam Smith and she wanted me in at the office without delay. I went, wondering what she knew and what to say. King would hardly have told her the truth, but he could well have made up some outrageous story, and at best it would be my word against his. Very likely I was going to get the sack, but all I could think of was to keep quiet and hope for the best.
I bought a doughnut in the Edgware Road, killing time before going up and wondering if just possibly the whole thing was a false alarm, as before. It wasn’t. Mrs Smith was behind her desk, stern-faced and leafing through my file. She waded straight in.
‘Miss Doyle. Good morning. I regret to say that a complaint has been made against you.’
‘Yes?’
My tone was supposed to be surprised and aggrieved. It came out as guilty. Hers was sharp as she went on.
‘Mrs Henshaw at the Tilbury Bond . . .’
Relief washed over me, closely followed by consternation. If King hadn’t complained, it was only because he was still in Inagua and probably thought I was too.
‘She cites that your work rate for the last afternoon you were there was thirty percent below target throughout, and that no reason was given for this lapse. We expect better than that at Super Staff, Miss Doyle.’
‘Oh, er . . . right.’
‘Is that all you have to say?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Don’t you wish to explain yourself?’
I’d been thirty per cent below target whatsit because I’d been servicing the entire warehouse and security staff, but I didn’t expect she’d consider it a good excuse.
‘I didn’t feel very well. You know, time of the month.’
‘Then you should have reported to the medical room. Complaints can not be taken lightly, Lucy, and I’m afraid I will have to give you a first formal warning.’
She pushed the document towards me, a triplicate form.
‘Please sign and take the yellow copy.’
I signed, feeling slightly numb and wondering how it would be once Charles King got his hooks into me. Mrs Maryam Smith filed the other two copies with brisk, economical motions, one in my file, one in a tray, then turned to her computer, speaking again.
‘You’re with Ms Hilary Chalmers again today. There at least you seem to have made a good impression.’
‘Er, thank you.’
She printed out my paperwork and I took it, along with the First Formal Warning, which I gave the same treatment as Bobbie had given hers the first morning I’d been there. Had it really been just a few short weeks? It felt like eternity.
I wasn’t completely happy about meeting Hilary Chalmers again, for all the impression I’d made on her. No doubt she was going to want to seduce me into playing her kinky games once again, and I wasn’t really up for it. My experience with Charles King was too raw to allow me to feel good about the whole employer/temp relationship thing. It’s also a little embarrassing to meet a woman you last saw masturbating with her spanked bum stuck up in the air.
Not that I was going to refuse. She was generous and, with uni coming up and the likely termination of my employment when King got back from Inagua, I needed every penny I could get. So I told myself I’d be polite and friendly, doing what was asked of me up to a point – that point being getting my own bottom spanked.
To my surprise it was nothing like that at all. Her attitude had changed completely; she was polite, respectful, almost worshipful. With her being twice my age I found it all a bit hard to take in, unlike the expensive found it all a bit hard to take in, unlike the expensive lunch she bought me at the Elephant Inn. She’d been so confident before, but now she was nervous, saying she needed to talk to me and suggesting a walk in the nearby woods.
What she asked of me genuinely shocked me.
I came back from Henley with five hundred pounds in cash in my pocket and what can only be described as a shopping list of perversions. It was all a bit beyond me, and I was wishing she’d asked Bobbie instead, but apparently the fact that I’d had the guts to turn the tables on her made me the ‘ideal person’. What she wanted, in general and to use her own words, was, ‘to be brought down from high to low, wholly and unconditionally’. What she wanted in detail was enough to make my stomach tighten.
Fortunately, she wanted both Bobbie and Sophie in on the act, which was just as well, as I badly needed to consult them. I got the chance on the Monday, at some telecom company in the East End on a big decruitment drive, employing temps to fill in for the redundancies in their fault control department before moving the whole she-bang to Bangalore.
Both of them thought Hilary’s request was hilarious, and were more than happy to help. I was a little taken aback by their sheer glee in her coming humiliation, but then, they’d both been spanked by her, and I hadn’t. There were other, less simple, things to organise too, and we agreed to meet at a convenient pub to discuss it after work.
Fault control was the best job I’d had other than the private ones. In essence it was simple, and boring, but there were just too many opportunities for mischief to be ignored. People would ring in to ‘report’ a fault with their equipment, or, more accurately, to complain about a fault with their equipment, because, more often than not, they’d worked themselves into a fine temper before ringing. We were then supposed to fill in a fault log and pass it on to the engineers.
The reality was very different. None of the callers knew who we were or where we were, but the great majority had somehow got it into their heads that we were personally responsible for their woes, even those who’d spilt coffee on their equipment, which was by far the commonest fault.
I was between Sophie and Kanthi, which was just asking for trouble. At first it was annoying, with people shouting at me and demanding to speak to the chief engineer or even the MD, but after I’d lost my temper with one man and called him a slimy ball of turds things got better. His explosion of wrath as I put the phone down on him left me smiling and the girls clapping and cheering. After that it was a riot, with Sophie and I trying to outdo each other in winding the callers up, and Kanthi egging us on in delight.
>
Bobbie was at another desk, but soon caught on and joined in, until at last one of the engineers realised what was going on and told us to stop. He wasn’t angry, though, more amused, as he and his colleagues had to put up with the same foolish aggression when they went out on call. I kept right on anyway, because with Charles King sure to do his worst and uni coming up, it no longer mattered.
We gathered after work at a pub called the Golden Eagle, already high on our day’s mischief and up for more. Given what we were supposed to do to Hilary Chalmers, we could hardly discuss it in front of Kanthi, who would have been shocked, but none of us were mean enough to send her away. Keith was there too, playing a sort of weird musical chairs in his efforts to sit next to me and repeatedly trying to pin me down about when he could take me to the cinema, which he seemed to regard as a necessary prelude to sex.
In the end the three of us had to pretend we were tired and moved on, although we’d at least decided that the best place for Hilary Chalmers’ self-imposed degradation was Sophie’s flat. It was actually getting late, and with the pubs full of wagging ears and all three of us supposed to be back at work for eight the next morning, we decided to call it a day for real.
I was still thinking about it on the way home, and the next day on the way in. Bobbie, in particular, understood what Hilary wanted well enough to help me over my feelings of unease and, after a lunchtime chat, I was as keen as they were. The main problem was that we needed a man, a dirty bastard, but somebody who’d do as he was told. Niall was out, because there was just no way he’d let me, or Bobbie and Sophie, stay in charge. There were three possible alternatives:
Big Dog the rentboy, in that he worked for money and so would presumably take orders, but he was probably too aggressive and maybe too gay for our needs.
Luke, who would certainly do as he was told but was really too mild to make a proper job of it.
Aaron, who might be ideal but would need checking out.
It was supposed to happen on the Saturday, which didn’t give us much time, while to contact a complete stranger for sex was something that needed to be done very carefully. It was also something that carried a delicious thrill, now that I had a reason, something both girls agreed on. We decided to go together, and to bring Luke along for safety. Mild he might be, but he was a big lad and could keep us safe.
That evening, with trembling fingers and both the girls pressed close, I retrieved Aaron’s number and sent him a text on Sophie’s phone, because I hadn’t forgotten about the phoney meeting I’d set up by the ponds on Hampstead Heath. He responded immediately, hardly surprising with three girls calling to discuss ‘possibilities for his huge cock’. We’d meet the next night, Wednesday, at the pub in Camden Town where he’d placed his advert.
Once we’d done our dirty deed I went back to Niall’s. I’d promised to cook for him, on demand, one more little sign that he was getting too possessive. Once again I told myself that I’d talk it through with him, and once again I just ended up getting fucked, this time bent over the table after we’d eaten, with my knickers down behind and my tits in a plate of half-finished spaghetti Bolognese.
He wanted to take me to Gogarty’s on the Saturday night, and I had to tell him I’d already promised to go out with the girls, citing an imaginary hen party as my excuse. He argued a bit, saying I should put his needs first, but then abruptly changed his mind and made me kneel on the bed for a spanked arse and another fucking to make up for his missed evening. Afterwards he told me I could expect spankings to be a regular part of our relationship, to ‘keep me in line’.
Nobody keeps Lucy Doyle ‘in line’, but nobody. I was rather getting to enjoy having my bottom spanked, especially with a good rough shagging to follow, but that was sex, pure and simple. The next morning I was in a fine state of conflict, sexually satisfied but thoroughly resentful. On the way in I was thinking of how I could bring things to a head, which seemed inevitable.
I was at a different workstation, and didn’t get a chance to speak to Sophie until the evening, and then only once we were on our way to Camden after getting rid of Keith. She disagreed.
‘Don’t worry about it. You’re off to uni next week, three hundred miles away. Play it cool, and my bet is Niall’ll have a new girlfriend within a month.’
Bobbie agreed, and I could see it made sense, for all that it hurt and once more left me wishing he’d be more reasonable about our relationship. I’d have gone on about it, and probably worked myself into a fine state, only Luke was waiting outside Camden Town tube, looking more than a little unsure of himself.
‘So what’s the deal again?’
I chose to answer, despite having explained.
‘It’s simple. We’re going to meet this guy Aaron, because we need him to do us a favour. You’re here in case he’s a nutter but, as a special treat, if he’s into guys you get to suck his cock.’
Luke went instantly pink, glancing to Bobbie and Sophie, both of whom were trying not to giggle. I put up a reassuring hand.
‘Don’t worry, they know, and they love the idea.’
Luke’s response was a grimace, but he tagged onto us as we started down the High Street. Whatever he was like personality wise I was very glad of his presence, but still nervous as we pushed in to the pub. It was crowded, mainly people my age out on the town, and a few older, in street clothes or work clothes, drinking and talking, some perhaps on assignations, but few like us.
We ordered drinks and propped ourselves against the far wall, near the door to the loos. All four of us were tensed up, Luke the most, and rightly so with any number of possibilities for the end of the evening, ranging from a punch-up to taking Aaron’s big black cock in his mouth. Sophie and Bobbie were holding hands, eyes bright with expectation.
In the space of an hour, three single black men came into the pub, and each time my heart jumped. Sophie had a red ribbon in her blonde hair for Aaron to spot us, but it made her well cute, and all three of the men gave her a long glance, Bobbie and me too. None approached us, but when the fourth guy came in, I knew we’d found our man.
He was a good six foot four, lanky but muscular, with short dreads and tats on his bare arms, but none of that mattered. What did was his expression and the way he held himself, just bursting with confidence, and a lewd, mocking sexuality. Here was a man who could send girls messages demanding his cock be sucked, and laugh off the refusals. Sophie had seen too, and gave a sharp intake of breath. He saw her, pointed one finger and started towards us. I swallowed, my stomach churning, very glad that he didn’t know I was the one who’d sent him up onto the Heath to meet a rent boy. He spoke as he came close.
‘You’re Sophie, yeah? And Lucy and Bobbie. And you, you’re the minder. Me, I’m Aaron, but I guess you know that.’
Luke responded with a gruff nod, trying to look tough. Aaron made an easy gesture.
‘That’s cool. So, you all want a portion, or you want to watch Sophie do the business?’
It was a bit abrupt, but I managed to come back, determined to at least try and keep control.
‘It’s a bit more complicated than that.’
‘Anything you like, girl.’
‘OK. Do you want a drink? We need to find a table, maybe upstairs.’
I went for the drinks, taking Bobbie with me, and the others made for the stairs. She spoke first.
‘He’s cute, a bit of a poser, maybe, but cute. I’d have him.’
‘Right, but how about for Hilary?’
‘We’ll see. Not if he gets pushy, though, because he’s a big guy.’
‘He is, isn’t he? What about on the night, we won’t have Luke?’
‘Maybe we should. He could stay in the kitchen or something, but I’m not sure he could do much if Aaron turned nasty.’
‘No.’
I bit my lip, feeling a little scared but too excited by the possibilities to back out.
‘We’ll just have to make sure this evening. Make sure he knows it’s cock-
sucking only and see how he reacts.’
Bobbie nodded and I turned to catch the attention of one of the bar staff. Once we’d got the drinks we made our way upstairs to a much quieter bar where Sophie, Luke and Aaron were seated around a table. Sophie was talking animatedly, and laughing, Aaron listening, Luke hanging back. I put the drinks down.
‘So, what’s up?’
Aaron answered me.
‘My cock,’ he joked. ‘Just as soon as we’re back at this little miss’s flat.’
I glanced at Sophie, who returned a mischievous smile. It was all going a bit fast.
‘Fine, no problem, but what we really want you to do is come along on Saturday afternoon, with the three of us, but for another woman . . . an older woman, who wants a . . . a specialist service.’
‘What’s that?’
I glanced to where a group at a nearby table had their ears flapping our way.
‘Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.’
‘There’s nothing I can’t handle, girl.’
I had to answer him. He was just too cock-sure.
‘How about being whipped and buggered?’
‘Hey, I ain’t no freak!’
‘Fine, it’s nothing like that, just checking out your limits. Look, I’ll explain.’
I leant close, to whisper in his ear, and had the satisfaction of watching his expression change slowly from arrogance to surprise. When I sat back I was smiling, but also hoping he wasn’t going to lose his nerve. He took a swallow of his vodka Red Bull and nodded.
‘I can do that, yeah, just so long as I get some action. You girls into stuff like that, then?’
‘Not really . . . well, maybe. Sometimes.’
We continued to talk, Aaron very brash and amused, taking our attraction to him for granted. He really was arrogant, and I could see him making a girl go through with it if she tried to back out, leaving me more than a little uncertain. Bobbie and Sophie had no such qualms, happily stoking his vanity by admiring the admittedly impressive bulge in his jeans, even stroking it. That was all he could take, downing his third vodka Red Bull as he stood up.