Kristin's Demotion

by Lorenzo Marks

  He had toyed with the idea of a sailor schoolgirl outfit but instead, opting on the side of subtlety, he had Kristin wearing a simple white blouse, sheer enough to clearly display her black lace bra underneath. Her skirt was also black and stopped at the middle of her thighs which were encased in sheer black stockings. She was shod with her four inch red pumps and her brown hair was tied back in a simple pony-tail. Finally, to her obvious dismay, he had attached a plastic name tag, bearing her new nickname, ‘Pumpkin’.

  The idea was to suggest a saucy imitation of an office secretary and Henry, observing they way the clothes clung tightly to Kristin’s shapely curves, thought he had succeeded. He really hoped so, because he was seriously beginning to wonder if Yamada had already made up his mind to go elsewhere.

  Henry concluded his presentation and took a seat next to Levine while the three Japanese businessmen conferred. After a few moments, Yamada stood up, bowed and left the room.

  Slightly panicked, Henry asked his two colleagues if anything was wrong.

  Mr. Rojo, a pale-faced little man, said, “Mr. Yamada has gone to the bathroom. He still needs a little time to think.”

  “And your opinion of the revised package?” Henry inquired.

  “It looks very good. Your programmers have obviously done a lot of work. In fact, I believe Mr. Yamada was very impressed.”

  Henry had no idea how he could have told that, but he breathed an audible sigh of relief.

  “So you think he’ll renew the contract?”

  “Maybe. But there is a problem.”

  Henry had sensed this all morning. Something was holding Yamada back, and it had nothing to do with ABACUS. Before Mr. Rojo had time to elaborate, Yamada came back into the conference room and retook his seat. He spoke softly in Japanese whilst holding Henry’s gaze.

  “Mr. Yamada is satisfied with the updated program,” Mr. Rojo announced. “However, before he can make a commitment, there is another issue to be resolved.”

  Yamada continued in his native tongue and Mr. Rojo translated.

  “Mr. Yamada is still troubled by his rather shoddy treatment by this company recently.”

  “That was regrettable,” Henry said. “I offer my deepest apologies.”

  “Unfortunately,” said Mr. Rojo, “that does not rectify the situation. Mr. Yamada has been severely embarrassed in front of his peers by the ignorant behavior of your previous vice president, Miss Hartman.”

  Henry wondered if they realized that it was Kristin who had been serving their coffee and biscuits all morning. He guessed that they did.

  Well here goes, he thought.

  “Would Mr. Yamada’s honor be restored, if Miss Hartman were to apologize in person?” Henry asked cautiously.

  Mr. Rojo translated and then replied, “If Miss Hartman displays the necessary level of contrition.”

  Henry smiled inwardly. Kristin had been his intended secret weapon all along, but he’d been wary of using her in case he had misread Yamada’s intentions. Now he was certain that he had interpreted the way Yamada had been watching her, correctly.

  “I should inform you that Miss Hartman has been demoted as a result of her incompetence,” Henry said, rising.

  “Which is why she has been serving our coffee?” Mr. Yamada said, surprising Henry by speaking English.

  “Her new duties are somewhat less stressful,” Henry explained.

  “Nonetheless, if a personal apology were forthcoming, I see no reason why we cannot continue to conduct business in the foreseeable future.”

  This is just perfect! Henry thought. Yamada feels he has been humiliated and now he wants Kristin to suffer the same fate. Well, hold onto your seats guys. This is going to be fun!

  “Roger, would you mind?” Henry said.

  With a wry smile, Levine left the room and returned a moment later with a rather anxious-looking Kristin.

  “Come up to the podium, Pumpkin,” Henry said.

  Kristin walked stiffly up to the front of the room and stood beside Henry.

  “Mr. Yamada has suffered a great deal of distress through your repeatedly insulting behavior,” Henry said.

  Kristin’s legs were shaking and her hands were clenched tightly together in font of her.

  “He would like an apology,” Henry prompted.

  “I’m… I’m sorry, Mr. Yamada,” Kristin stammered.

  The three Japanese just looked at her impassively.

  Okay gentlemen, thought Henry. It’s show time!

  “You really don’t sound like you mean it,” Henry said sternly. “Are you still insisting upon embarrassing Mr. Yamada?”

  “No, Master!”

  Henry saw that the Japanese were watching her intently.

  “Perhaps it would help if you were made to feel the same way?”

  Tears were forming in her wide eyes now, as she began to understand the implications of his words.

  “Remove your blouse.”

  “Please, Master. Not in front of them,” Kristin whispered.

  Henry folded his arms. “You’re trying my patience.”

  Kristin looked at the floor and slowly raised her trembling fingers to the buttons of her blouse.

  “Look at Mr. Yamada,” Henry instructed.

  Painfully, she locked eyes with the man who had been the catalyst for her meteoric rise to the top. Yamada watched keenly as she parted the blouse and slipped it over her shoulders. Henry noted that there were no protestations from the Japanese executives. In fact, they were gaping openly at Kristin’s ample breasts, which were straining under the small black bra. That was all he needed to see before going further.

  “Now the skirt.”

  Kristin fumbled awkwardly with the buttons on the waistband of her skirt, finally managing to release them, and then pulled the zipper down, letting the garment fall to her feet.

  “Now tell Mr. Yamada how sorry you are.”

  Standing in her underwear, Kristin mumbled, “I’m truly sorry, Mr. Yamada.”

  Henry shook his head, pretending to be disappointed. In fact, he was loving every second of this.

  “Are you satisfied with that, Mr. Yamada?”

  Judging from their rapt expressions, the three Japanese executives weren’t ready for the show to end just yet.

  “You obviously still need to learn your lesson,” Henry said. “The brassiere.”

  Kristin looked at him pleadingly but finding no reprieve, reached up behind and unhooked the bra. Slowly, teasingly, she pulled the straps over her shoulders and then let the cups fall away, revealing her soft round breasts to the roomful of men.

  Yamada leaned forward in his seat, and Henry also noticed that Levine was surreptitiously rubbing his crotch.

  Well, he thought, no point stopping while you’re ahead.

  “You’ve been a very naughty girl, haven’t you, Pumpkin?”

  “Yes, Master,” Kristin whimpered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

  “How shall we punish you, then?” Henry taunted. “You choose.”

  A look of bewilderment passed across Kristin’s face.

  “You decide upon your own punishment,” Henry said again.

  “How…? Here…?” Kristin looked totally mystified.

  “Okay, let me help you out. How does Master punish his naughty slave?”

  Henry was in full swing now. There was an outside chance that Yamada would decide things had gone far enough but he didn’t think so.

  Kristin knew the correct answer. In a low quivering voice, she said, “Master spanks Pumpkin.”

  It was beautiful. Henry doubted he had ever seen Kristin look so ashamed.

  “So ask Mr. Yamada if he would be kind enough to spank you,” he went on relentlessly.

  Standing there, bare-breasted and trembling, Kristin said quietly, “Mr. Yamada, Pumpkin wishes to be spanked.”

  “Assume the position, then,” Henry said softly.

  Slowly,
Kristin turned and placed her hands on the lectern. Then she bent forward, pushed out her ass and spread her legs wide. Levine looked as though he was about to come in his pants.

  Yamada took in the delectable sight for a minute before uttering something to his two associates who each stood and approached the prone girl.

  Standing on each side of her, they began to lightly slap her buttocks. The slaps weren’t hard, the idea being to humiliate, and judging from the color of Kristin’s face they were succeeding.

  After a few minutes of this, Yamada said something else and the two Japanese businessmen stopped spanking Kristin’s ass. Henry wondered if her ordeal was over - and more significantly, whether Yamada was now ready to sign the new contract.

  It seemed he wasn’t yet satisfied however, as his two associates next took hold of the waistband of Kristin’s panties and pulled them down to her knees. Kristin let out an anguished groan. With her pussy spread wide for the viewing pleasure of their boss, they resumed the spanking, until her cheeks were a bright ruddy color. Henry watched in fascination as Kristin’s ass cheeks wobbled with each slap. After several minutes, Yamada called a halt to the indecent assault and the two Japanese took their seats.

  Henry told Kristin to straighten up and face them all again. She was sobbing now, her face contorted with shame and self-loathing. As a final degradation, Henry made her thank Mr. Yamada while her panties were still at half-mast.

  It’s time, Henry thought, to seal the deal.

  “I hope Mr. Yamada’s pride and dignity have been restored,” Henry said.

  Yamada spoke again and Mr. Rojo, looking quite flushed, said, “Mr. Yamada is satisfied.”

  “Then would Mr. Yamada be agreeable to re-signing the contract?”

  There was no immediate response and Henry wondered if he had been too pushy. The Japanese were still ogling Kristin’s nude body and it gave him an idea.

  “As a demonstration of our good faith,” he said, “I am prepared to offer an added bonus. To ensure our continued support and high level of service, I will send Miss Hartman over to Motoko Heavy Industries every Friday. She will be at your disposal for the entire day to answer your questions - and anything else that you may think of - throughout the duration of the contract.”

  The three Japanese exchanged comments and nodded.

  “Do we have a deal, Mr. Yamada?”

  “We most certainly do, Mr. Shepard.” Yamada smiled fiendishly.

  The five men stood and shook hands while Kristin, naked except for her shoes and stockings, and with her panties still around her knees, watched tearfully from the podium.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Alone in the house, Kristin lay naked on Master’s bed and stared up at the ceiling - as she had been doing for the past six hours. With her ankles and wrists tied securely to the bedposts, she had been immobile since Master had left her spread-eagled there early that morning. He had been kind enough to fuck her before he departed, informing her that he would not be returning until late that night.

  The sheets were damp under her buttocks because inevitably, she had been unable to hold her bladder. Master would punish her for that but she figured she deserved it as she was old enough to know better.

  She had drifted off to sleep a couple of times but her aching limbs kept bringing her back to consciousness and so she watched the shadows moving across the ceiling as the day wore on, with nothing to do but think.

  Her thought processes were no longer coherent. Her once sharp and organized mind had become a rambling blur as her life had descended into an endless series of painful punishments and humiliations. Master had conditioned her to follow her written daily instructions without any prompting, and as time went by, not only had her peers become convinced that she was acting of her own free will, but at times, she even believed it herself.

  Somewhere deep within her psyche, she could still just about hear the old Kristin Hartman screaming out her shame and outrage, but outwardly her persona was simply Pumpkin. Pumpkin, the slave, who cleaned Master’s house and cooked his meals. Pumpkin, who accompanied him to the mall and carried his bags, who fucked him and sucked him and was familiar with every detail of his body and all of his sexual desires and perversions. Pumpkin, the office slut, who was too stupid to understand even the most basic spreadsheet and whose only use at OFS was to ‘entertain’ the clients as well as many of the male staff, not to mention being the constant source of their amusement and the butt of their jokes.

  Kristin was vaguely aware that once, a long time ago, she would have used this quiet time alone to fathom out an escape from this life, but she wasn’t really sure of what she was running from anymore. She was originally driven by her fear of jail but even that seemed like a distant memory now. Her reconstructed personality understood only that she had to obey, and that was all she perceived of her current reality.

  So, as she lay there trying to ignore her thirst, the blank ceiling became her movie screen as she unconsciously replayed some of the countless degradations she had been forced to endure over the past few months…

  She’s at the office Christmas party, dressed in a little red Santa hat, a short red tunic, fishnets and heels, and she’s serving drinks and snacks to her co-workers, ensuring their glasses are kept full while they relax and enjoy themselves. On Master’s instructions she gives each of the single men a Christmas kiss on the lips, long and deep, using her tongue, and burns with embarrassment as the married ones regretfully turn her down while their wives and girlfriends look on in disgust…

  It’s Christmas Eve, and Master has invited George, Miles and Tony over for drinks. Kristin performs a slow striptease show for them until she is naked except for the Santa hat and six-inch heels. Then she receives her Christmas ‘gifts’. From George, a string of ‘Chinese Balls’, which Kristin is forced to insert into her ass and keep there for the rest of the evening. From Miles, a handful of quarters which he throws into the deep snow in the back yard and which Kristin has to retrieve one at a time, naked on all fours, until her skin turns blue from the biting cold. And from Master, a shaving kit which she is instructed to use in front of them, removing her pubic hair whilst squatting on the coffee table. She thanks them each with a passionate French kiss and then spends the rest of the night in Master’s bed as they take turns with her…

  She accompanies Master to her parent’s house for their traditional New Year’s Day reception. Her relatives and friends watch aghast as she drunkenly slurs her announcement that she and Master are engaged to be married. Wobbling precariously on her high-heels, she shows them the ring Master made her buy with her own money. She forces a smile as she tells them how much she loves him. The painful silence is broken by one of her cousins offering a toast to the happy couple. Her mother leaves the room in tears and her father looks apoplectic.

  Later, Master tells her to show him the around the family house. Upstairs, in her old bedroom, he closes the door and takes her anally from behind. Just as he is climaxing into her bowels, the door opens, and there is Kristin’s sister, gasping in shocked surprise…

  It’s a Sunday afternoon in the park, and she is jogging around the frozen lake. The sky is clear, the trees are bare, and the grass is coated with frost. She is scantily dressed in a skin-tight pair of black shorts and her nipples are rigid against her thin vest. People are staring as she goes around again and again, her unharnessed breasts bouncing wildly while Master watches from a park bench. After completing the required number of circuits, she stops a few yards from him and, following precise instructions, she stretches up, thrusting our her breasts and then bends forward, legs straight, thighs apart, buttocks thrust obscenely out. She clasps her ankles and sees, upside down between her thighs, two of her friends from the country club, their mouths agape with astonishment…

  She’s sitting on a plastic stool next to Andy Hollis’ desk. He’s only eighteen, just out of school, and he can’t keep his eyes off her, which is no surprise, con
sidering the way she is dressed. Her micro-skirt is pulled up to the tops of her bare thighs and she is braless under her pink halter top.

  “Pumpkin still doesn’t get it, Sir,” she says pathetically. This is normal practice. Every day when Master has nothing special for her, she wanders around the office, pestering the staff for something to do, only to tell them she doesn’t understand what they have said. Most them have given up on her and send her dismissively away, which she finds hurtful. Of course she knows how to carry out their simple tasks, but Master will not permit her to say so. He wants her to look stupid in front of everyone.

  Young Andy hasn’t sent her away, though. He enjoys her proximity and his eyes continually rove over her breasts and legs.

  “Let me show you again,” he says reassuringly, as he rests his hand on her thigh. She does not move it away. Master would not approve.

  “The files are color-coded. Just match the document tabs with the files. Red to red, blue to blue, yellow to yellow, like this. See?”

  She could do it in her sleep, but she is compelled to look at him with her big round eyes and shake her head dumbly.

  Andy looks at her sympathetically and for a moment she thinks he is going to kiss her.

  “You’re such a sweet girl, Pumpkin,” he says. “I’ll tell you what. You can sit here and watch me work if you like. Keep me company. How’s that?”

  His hand moves up her thigh and his fingers brush the front of her panties.

  “Come a little closer so you can watch,” he says and pops a stick of chewing gum into her mouth.

  Somebody in the next cubicle sniggers, and Kristin, inching up next to the office junior, wishes she could curl up and die…

  It is Friday morning and she is at Motoko Heavy Industries head office. It’s her fifth visit and she is now becoming accustomed to their depraved practices. In the top floor executive suites, away from prying eyes, she is the only woman in the sumptuous rooms. A dozen lustful Japanese businessmen ogle her body as she serves their drinks, wearing nothing but high heels and stockings. Her vagina is shaved and her hair is in girlish braids. As the drinks flow, the weekly ‘meeting’ degenerates into a frenzied orgy. Her hands are cuffed behind her back, and her breasts bound with rope so tightly, they turn deep purple. She is forced to service each one of them with her mouth, her pussy, and her ass, individually, in pairs, and in groups. They take their pleasure from her pain and degradation. She is made to walk on all fours, wearing a leash. She is whipped and blindfolded. Dildos are jammed into each of her orifices. At four o’clock her weekly ordeal comes to an end and she trudges painfully back to the OFS offices…