A Penny Saved

by Sèphera Girón

  Cora nodded and was speechless for a moment. She held the bills in her hand, not sure she’d ever held a thousand dollars before let alone five thousand. Certainly not earmarked for blowing it on a suit and some blouses.

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your faith in my capabilities in filling Hazel’s shoes.”

  “You’re not only going to fill her shoes, you’re going to surpass her shoes. Mark my word,” the president said. “Your performance in there was perfect.”

  Cora nodded and snatched up her file.

  “Is that all, sir?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She had taken no more than three steps when he called to her.

  “I think you forgot something.”

  She turned to face him and where her file had lain was now a bright shiny penny. Obviously one of the newer steel ones.

  She looked at the president and then at Henry. The corner of Henry’s mouth twitched. She looked back at the penny.

  “Thank you,” she said as she picked up the penny.

  Having never had money she knew where the best sales happened, where to find the best label discount stores. She bought five suits with skirts, with pants, seven pairs of shoes and five blouses with money left over for a jar of caviar, three kinds of cheese, fancy-ass crackers and a magnum of her favourite Australian red.

  As she wandered the streets, tried on clothes and made her purchases, pennies were around nearly every corner. Her back was aching from hauling the bags and searching for pennies. By the time she arrived home, she was exhausted and her feet ached. She hopped into the shower and soaped herself up with her favourite vanilla wash. She used her handheld showerhead to gently cleanse the penny wounds. To her amazement, the skin was growing rather infection-free over the wounds.

  She was starving, so she prepared herself a plate with the cheeses, caviar and crackers. Sitting naked on the couch on a cold crisp sheet, she drank her red wine. She was pleased with herself. What better way to spend an evening than eating caviar and watching Gilligan’s Island?

  Once she was full, she snapped off the TV. She poured out the day’s penny collection from her purse and swished them around on the table. They were cold and tingled when she touched them. They begged her to be part of her. She ran her fingers through them. How many this time?

  She slid them around into groups. First five, then ten, then twenty-five a cluster.

  She had seventy-eight pennies.

  She retrieved her razor from her nearby purse and turned off the main overhead light. She lit a candle and put it near her on the coffee table then clicked off the lamp. The welts on her arms glimmered in the candlelight. She cut tiny nicks into her thighs and pushed the newly found pennies into them. When she was finished, she admired her design. It was simple, straight lines running down her like armour. Or perhaps a mermaid tail. She ran her hands along the wedges on her legs and then the ones on her arms.

  “I am the penny, the penny is me,” she chanted, running her hands faster along her legs. “I am the penny, the penny is me,” she cried, her hands stroking herself from head to toe.

  She put her head between her legs and breathed out. She took a long soothing breath back in and slowly sat up. The candle still burned, still flickered. Cora shimmered with blood and copper in the light.

  “Thank you,” she cried out to the air. The candle puffed out. From the shadows of the darkened room, there was a low growl and the flash of red eyes. The overhead lights came on and she cried out.

  “Oh!” She looked up at the lights. She was in her apartment. It was time to wash her wounds.

  Behind her she heard low laughter. She turned, expecting to see secret doors, snakes, strange rooms, but there was nothing. She looked into every single mirror, examining her reflections in the rooms. There was no one.

  She returned to her bedroom and though she couldn’t see him, she knew the demon was near. He loomed close by, hot, foul breath over her shoulder as she struggled to sleep. She didn’t dare open her eyes, exhaustion overwhelming her as the sensation of sharp, tenacious claws caressed her body.

  Spring was in the air and in every step Cora took towards work that morning. Over the past few months, she had moved to the perfect condo downtown and was faced with the task of subleasing her basement apartment. She knew it wouldn’t be hard to get rid of, but she just had to be certain that the rent would be paid.

  As she walked towards the streetcar stop on Queen Street, she spotted a familiar-looking woman standing there already. Cora needed to do a double take as she found herself staring at Hazel. Hazel who looked like she was no more than a street person.

  “Hazel?” Cora approached the woman who was wrapped in layers of scarves and sweaters, although it was actually rather nice out this particular day.

  Hazel’s eyes widened under her low-brimmed hat and she stepped away. Cora grabbed her arm.

  “Hazel, what happened to you? Surely the recession hasn’t been that bad.”

  “It has and worse. I couldn’t get a job after I got fired. Since I was fired, no package, no EI, and then I was evicted…”

  “Family?”

  “Ha. Are you kidding?”

  “Surely you had savings.”

  “Yes, I certainly did. My accountant ran off with everything the minute I was fired. Everything is gone. My credit trashed. My identity stolen in four different countries.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “I’ve paid, Cora, I’ve paid. I see now how easy I had it, how I didn’t have to work so hard to be such a bitch. A bit of helping others instead of squashing others would have been a better way to go. I sure wouldn’t be living in shelters now.”

  Cora shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Someone must be able to help you.”

  “No, everything happened so fast. So many deaths in the family. Estates tied up in probate. Nothing.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I bet you are. Look at you in your thousand-dollar suit and five-thousand-dollar briefcase. You’re not sorry a bit. Just as I was never sorry who I stepped on to get ahead.”

  “I am sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be this way.”

  Hazel raised an eyebrow. “So it was you, all along. Sabotaging me.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Looks to me like you’ve gotten higher than I ever dared to dream,” Hazel said, studying the solid copper rings that adorned each finger of Cora’s hand. Hazel looked at the thick ropes of gold, brass and copper entwined in sparkling links around Cora’s neck. Thick golden earrings sparkled with diamonds.

  “How did you do it?” Hazel asked in a hushed whisper. “Did you marry him?”

  “No. Once you were out of the way, they were finally able to see my brilliance and the promotions and bonuses just keep coming,” Cora said. She held out her hand to admire her rings. “I spend it as fast as I make it, to remind myself how hard I had to work to get here.”

  “Or just that you’re greedy.”

  “Saving and hoarding did you no good,” Cora said.

  Hazel nodded. “You have a point.”

  Cora watched as the streetcar chugged along the tracks towards them.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to the shelter.”

  “Why don’t you come with me?”

  Cora took Hazel to the apartment where she had lived for nearly five years.

  “We have to go around the back,” Cora said. Hazel followed her, warily watching the bushes, the shadows, anywhere there might be trouble lurking.

  Cora opened the door. Everything was as she had left it. She had taken very little stuff when she moved, choosing instead to furnish her new condo with different pieces.

  She led Hazel on a small tour of the apartment. The stench of Hazel was overwhelming and Cora found herself breathing through her mouth.r />
  “What do you think?”

  “What are you asking me?”

  “This was my apartment, and now, I guess you can have it. I’ll pay the rent for the next two years while you get back on your feet.”

  Hazel stared at her. “Why? I was so cruel to you.”

  “Just because you’re a bitch doesn’t mean that I have to be one. Totally. Look, I thought you’d land on your feet, not dive deeper into hell. Just take this place and get your shit together. Deal?”

  Hazel nodded, speechless. Cora tossed her the keys.

  “I’ll tell the landlord that the rent will be paid for two years.”

  “Thank you, Cora. I’ll pay you back someday.”

  Cora left. A generous gift perhaps. A guilty gift? Or maybe it was just one last laugh at that bitch.

  Cora was dressed by the three busty servants, this time donning black-and-white latex maid outfits. Cora was powdered and eased into a black latex cat suit that had holes for her pussy, ass, breasts, mouth, eyes and nose. Her fingers and toes were encased like mittens. The minute the suit was on, Cora began to sweat. The latex was a tight hug against her skin, her vulnerable pussy cold by comparison. The servants locked handcuffs around her wrists, a collar around her neck and led her down to the dungeon by her leash.

  There was no one around as the women opened a panel in the floor and pushed Cora’s head down it. They flipped the latches back down and Cora realized that her head was trapped like an ostrich’s in the sand while the rest of her remained above.

  The women shackled Cora’s arms and legs to metal rings on the floor, kneeling so that her ass was highest in the air, her breasts hanging upside down.

  No sooner was she clipped, buckled and fastened, than the room filled with party guests. It didn’t take long for the floggings to start. Each strike of the leather straps burrowed into her flesh deeper with the heat of the PVC seeping into her pennies.

  Bottles of lube were poured over her, hands stroking and enjoying the smooth, slippery sensation as they probed and fingered her body.

  The first cock entered her slippery ass and she gasped at the size of him. She was helpless to protest or even move, her head beneath the floor, her butt taking every long hard stroke.

  Her eyes were growing adjusted to the light beneath the floor, from cracks in the trap door and around her neck. The area was only a square but a trick of the shadows let her see farther beyond. She saw the cave where the voodoo queens danced, the giant snakes writhing, keeping time with them. She turned her head and saw flames as far as she could see. She blinked and the demon was looking at her.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked with a grin.

  “Weirdly kinky, but yes, I am.”

  “Good. It’s good to express your carnal desires. It keeps your head clear for important decisions later on.”

  Hands were deep in Cora’s pussy, slick with the lube, while a vibrator danced on her clit and another cock found its way up her ass.

  “What decisions?”

  The demon chuckled and stepped closer. His long tongue snaked out from his mouth, licking her upside-down PVC-clad head and slithered into her mouth.

  He tasted like rotten corpses and though she wanted him out, his pulsing forked tongue dancing with hers, wrapping around it and twisting like lovers in her mouth, kept her kissing him back.

  Her body was on fire from the never-ending gangbang, her breasts were so heavy she wondered if they would drop right off, yet her nipples tingled with delight every time a mouth suckled them, teeth grazed them, fingers pinched them. The demon’s tongue continued to torment her, his pulsing lust filling her through her veins in a sensation she’d never experienced before. One side of his forked tongue slithered up her nose, wound around her eyeball, the other tangling with her own tongue, looping down her throat. Above her new body parts slammed into her and her mind was torn into a frenzy. Colours burst in her mind—she was unable to contain all she was feeling and cried out over and over again. It seemed like the pleasure and pain would never stop.

  When she was finally released from her bondage, every bone in her body ached, every muscle in her body twitched and trembled like a harmonic E on the violin. She was carried to bed where she rested for many days.

  Back at work at last, she stared out at the city of Toronto, marvelling at the CN Tower, and the tiny ant-like people roaming in harnesses around the EdgeWalk, way up on top of the tower.

  A thrill walk, like the one she was on.

  Heights didn’t seem like anything at all anymore when she had the board of directors eating out of her hand.

  Her involvement with the company grew, as did her paychecks. The games became infrequent as many late nights were spent plotting world domination together instead of fucking. Cora didn’t mind. She wasn’t sure that she ever wanted to fuck Master again after tasting the decadent delight of her demon’s tongue.

  She imagined the demon licking her between her legs, and her hand absentmindedly reached for her crotch before she heard a voice at the door.

  “Cora?” Henry walked in, shutting the door behind him.

  “Oh, yes, sorry.” Cora flushed as she sat at her desk. She indicated the large executive chair in front of her, where Henry often sat, and they’d even fucked in it a time or two.

  “We need to have another…session.” Henry looked pale and was shaking.

  “What’s wrong, Henry? You don’t look well.” Cora squinted at Henry.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “You don’t look like it’s nothing.”

  “Okay, there’s been…a death in the family,” he stammered, not meeting her gaze.

  “I see,” Cora said, not believing a word he said.

  “I need some…release…”

  “Of course, it’s been a while. Let’s set up a time,” Cora said. They looked at their phones and rearranged their timetables for that weekend.

  She was strapped to a Saint Andrew’s cross with her butt facing out. She had been flogged many times that day, and the wounds from the previous few weeks were scarring and breaking and scarring again.

  The victory of her promotions had amplified the length of the sessions. Whatever the lull in the games had been, he had returned to them in full fury.

  He stopped his strikes.

  “I’ll be back in a while,” he said. He left her there. She wondered where he was going and how long he’d be. The past few weeks had been such a blur. Yet another bonus the other day had been the capper. Was it just the beginning or was it the beginning of the end? She wondered how long this crazy relationship could be sustained. She had no issues firing her friends should it come to that. What friends? No one talked to her anymore now that she was an executive. She was earning more money every month and doing less grunt work. Her power was stronger every day, her opinions weighing more, her orders carried out. But she needed her so-called friends for her team and she vowed to bring in special treats for them now and again. Firing or keeping. Decisions. Decisions. However, loyalty still had to be curated.

  It was a good feeling. To be the one slamming down folders instead of being slammed at. To be the one fobbing off the boring files full of data entry tedium to whoever had pissed her off the most that day. Power was something she could enjoy. And she craved more.

  She looked at her wrists, how tightly they were bound. Her feet were falling asleep from being tied and not moving in so long. She wasn’t powerful. He was. He still held all the cards.

  It could all come crashing down at any moment. If he grew bored of her, she’d be fired. No more fast-track. No more caviar with Gilligan.

  There was a sound in the room but she couldn’t turn her head far enough to see where it was coming from. It was familiar. A flutter of wings. Perhaps the demon.

  “Are you there?” she called out, instantly regretting it in case
it was the master tricking her. There was no answer but the sensation of being watched never left her.

  “Demon?” she called out. “Is it you?”

  She heard the new sound of voices coming closer. She sighed. It was typical. Now he was bringing in his buddy to share in her humiliation. Men were so predictable.

  She recognized the voices. She should have known.

  She turned her head enough to see the president and Master together. She kept her face blank.

  “Are you surprised?” Master asked. She said nothing, knowing that if she spoke, she would be flogged.

  “Here, punish her however you wish,” Master said as he handed the flogger over to the president. Hard, sloppy lashes slapped at her back. He hit her hard, bringing much pain and very little pleasure, but she remained quiet.

  The president’s breath was heavy as he approached her. His hands were cold claws skittering against her. Inside of her, boredom bubbled into apathy, which set off a slow burn to rage.

  He pinched her pussy, no foreplay with him, hard little beetle pricks, designed to hurt, a touch that transmitted no pleasure, no magical sensations.

  “She’s a strong one. A good choice. They’ll be pleased. He’ll be pleased.”

  Master cleared his throat. “Perhaps. Or perhaps, we’ll keep her for ourselves and find a new better one.”

  The pinching stopped.

  “That’s not part of the rules,” the president said. “You know that better than I. It’s already been too long. I’m surprised they haven’t noticed.”

  “They haven’t noticed and they won’t notice. Enjoy her. Our lust makes her stronger.”

  Master ran his hands along her, stroking and massaging her scarred and welted body. He ran his nails along the pennies encased in her thighs. Their light hum made her smile although she didn’t dare say a word.

  “Lust, my ass, you’re in love with her. That’s why you’re taking so long to let her go. Your reticence is going to reflect on my own loyalties.”