by Avery, T. C.
"What's the point of being blessed with them, if you don't use them," her mother used to say to her. She decided not to say a word but to carry on as if the staring hadn't happened.
The 'chit-chat' restarted and the moment was forgotten (for now). When all the drinks were made Lucy was asked to carry the tray and follow. Through the buildings and upstairs, she wondered if she'd remember the route back. It’s always the same with new places though. You get used to it and you find your way around in the end.
The upper hallway had a number of portrait photos on the walls but they were walking too fast for a proper look. Into Mister Banner's office and there were two of them, one sitting, one standing. Luke and the older guy she'd met downstairs earlier.
They exchanged smiles, and a few raised eyebrows then Luke took the tray from her. It was becoming more and more apparent that young blood was a bit of a novelty round here. He introduced the gentleman to his right as Mister Banner, Senior. His father. Lucy apologized unnecessarily, for not realizing, but it was all cast aside. Once the formalities were over, Lucy was whisked away again for site training and familiarization, with the promise of returning for a brief on her responsibilities alongside Luke.
As it turned out there were other young things at B.P.L. Male and female. In the factory, in the yard and a few in the office. They just hadn't all arrived through the front doors. Lucy determined the reason behind her special attention had to be in the presentation of said 'young things'. Tarts with tattoos, bad hair and crappy clothing don't do much for visual impact and neither does a face full of Coke and Mars Bars, other than to block out all but the peripherals and spoil the moment.
Lucy was no snob, but "What is the younger generation coming to?" she thought, followed up by, "Oh my God, I sound just like my dad".
With orientation out of the way, Lucy was re-introduced to the bosses and shown to her very own office and desk next door. Luke and his dad were very much old school and still hadn't managed to kick the habit of a Personal Assistant. Luke could type, with one or two fingers, but his father was not party to the electronic gadgetry of the 21st century. In truth, half of her job was going to be supporting Banner Senior and half would be looking after all of Luke's wants and wishes whilst he moved and shook in his own version of 'the business world'. And let's face it, when you're the boss, a successful one that is, you don't have to work that hard. It’s your support crew that does all the work. You just need to mix in the right circles, be prepared to watch, spend and invest a little money, and talk a good game.
Her first few jobs included typing out some letters for ‘Senior’, which had been left for her on the recording device, physical mail sorting and email trawling. In truth Lucy suspected they didn't really need a Temp', since there were enough office staff to cover any event, but maybe the pair of them were a little too self important and pathetic. Unable to wipe their own noses for two weeks. “Still, what was she thinking, she wasn't here to think, she was here to do.”
Jody had told her to play things very low key to start with.
"Ease yourself in, don't get cocky and just blend in as best you can," she had said.
"That’s easy for her to say. I'm not dressing down to match in with this crowd."
As a precaution to counter Lucy's eagerness, Jody hadn't given her any instructions on what she needed. That could wait until she settled and had done a little more than make coffee and tea.
Eleven thirty rolled around pretty swiftly and Luke paid her a visit. He'd waited for all her tutors to vanish before waltzing in unannounced and closing the door behind him.
"So, vee meet agen, mine fraw line," he began in his worst or best mock German accent (or Churman accent to be precise).
"You have managed to infiltrate zee inner sanctums of mine industry and yet you do not hide. You even dare to seduce mine eyesight viz your leetle skirt and viz your open blouzon. Vot is your mission. You vill talk. Vee have vays of making you talk!"
"This was more like it," Lucy thought and in her best, or worst, French dialect she responded with, "Ma superiors 'ave determined you are planning to undermine an' expose the existence of very small furry animals we keep in our under garments. Ma mission is to build a resistance to certain plans an' advances. I 'ave clear instruction to provide evidence an' to bring down the perpetrators from wizzin. I yam to use all necessary forces an' submissions in ma quest. But wait, 'ow did you manage to get all of this from moi, so early in ma mission?"
"Az I sed, Vee have vays of making you talk!"
Lucy couldn't keep it up any longer and burst out laughing, closely followed by Luke. The spark from their first encounter at "The Last Drop" had been reignited and Lucy was confident there would be opportunities to progress this relationship according to plan.
They struck up conversation of the 'none work' variety but the door was suddenly opened and they were unfortunately interrupted before any real closeness could build. Lucy was required to undertake a host of repetitive and meaningless chores and tasks and earn her agency's not inconsiderable fees until the father and son tag team had some real jobs for her.
She was not really welcomed in by the staff as one of their own, since they couldn't see the point in her being there in the first place, but Lucy did her best to fit in with them all anyway.
On the third day she turned up for work punctually, as usual, as was her way, only this time she was armed with instructions from Jody. She had her confident head on and it showed, possibly a little too much, but she was determined to enjoy her role and its importance.
Her instructions were simple. Over the course of her employ, she was required to undertake a number of critical 'missions' and purloin a host of small but significant items. They varied dramatically and she needed to dream up a few fake but believable scenarios in order to make them obtainable. Some would be easy, innocent even. Others required a bit more imagination. All would be down right sneaky, and she'd be miles up 'shit creek' without the proverbial paddle if caught. The naughtiness of the whole thing gave her a level of excitement she'd never felt before. Jody had reminded her the night before, she'd need to be careful not to unwittingly arouse suspicions and give the game away.
Sellotape with Luke's fingerprints on was so easy. All she needed was a few presents to wrap and then wait for him to come into her office.
"Make your self useful," she half requested, half instructed him, "and do me some Sellotape or Scotch tape or whatever it's called. You can line them up on the desk for me. I need lots."
The fingerprints on the wood proved a little tougher. A few days later she left some long architrave type pieces standing up and leaning on his car. There was no one around and he assumed someone must have inadvertently left them there and so he put them back in the workshop a little closer to where he thought they belonged. Having watched him from the upstairs windows, Lucy sought them out and collected them wearing gloves. She cut them into two foot long pieces and stuffed them into her shopping bag like French bread.
The signed letterhead was down right risky. She would often bring in a whole pile of letters for Luke to sign at the end of the day or before he went out on appointments. On a few occasions there would be an extra sheet with his name typed at the bottom but nothing above. She would wait until he was rushing out the door before producing the letters for signing. They'd be presented to him 'stacked' so the signature area of all but the top one was the only visible portion and there was no need to read each page. This way he could sign quickly and be on his way.
"See how I look after you, speeding things up," she'd say with a smile. And he appreciated every moment of it. "Bet your usual P.A. Doesn't look after you like I do, eh?"
The computer stuff was pretty easy. All she needed was a couple of company discs and some meaningless and boring 'read me' and 'encryption' type files with the dates wiped that she could copy onto them. Child's play, really.
The postage franking machine mission was a little too hard to deal with as she couldn
't reset the date due to it having some sort of lock on it. She decided to improvise and came up with a devious little replacement solution of her own. Since she couldn't get the postage marks requested she would do the next best thing. By placing an A4 envelope under the letters to be signed one day, Luke's signature impression came through and undeniably branded it as BPL and more importantly his.
Lucy still wasn't quite sure where all this stuff was leading but trusted Jody enough to go along with it. She was also getting a teensy bit bored playing things carefully and toeing the company line according to 'Ms Prim' and 'Ms Proper' downstairs. She decided it was time to spice things up a little. Gradually she began getting more and more risqué with her attire, her suggestiveness and her 'accidental' body brushing. She received no complaints from Luke, funnily enough, and this just spurred her on.
One afternoon, whilst taking notes for Luke in his office she made sure her chair was placed far enough away from his desk to afford him the pleasure of seeing just how short her latest skirt actually was. Lucy was very playful this afternoon, especially with the old 'pencil in the mouth' trick.
Her legs crossed and uncrossed provocatively a number of times distracting him from his thoughts. As usual, there was no real need for this kind of secretarial service, so Lucy didn't feel any guilt in her performance at all. "He can come back to this crap anytime," she thought.
The black and red striped pencil was right royally licked and sucked on but not in too much of a display of out and out porn. She didn't want to go for broke today. This was just a little tease until next time.
The pencil was then administered to duties of the slippy-slidy kind. "I have an itch," she taunted, as she slowly slid it inside her particularly low buttoned blouse and down between her breasts. Luke could just see the exposed edge of her exquisitely decorated black bra and tried hard not to stare, looking back and forth between her wanton eyes and her beckoning cleavage. It didn't work and his gaze was met and matched.
There was a pause in proceedings, then, "Its warm in here isn't it?" said Lucy. "It must have been a teeny, tiny bead of sweat tormenting and tickling my breast."
"Er, possibly," Luke joined in, not quite knowing where to take things. "It was a very lucky bead of sweat."
"I think that's got it now. Where were we?" and with that she crossed her legs again very slowly giving Luke a reasonable opportunity to get a glimpse of her bright white, strategically mismatched panties.
"Er, I think you were showing me your, er, additional skills and attributes."
"You mean my special secretarial skills?"
"Yes."
"Oh I think they'll have to wait for another time, don't you? Weren't you in the middle of something important?"
"Oh, that can wait till later...."
"That's good actually," interrupted Lucy, "I've a number of important things I can be getting on with myself."
She stood up, smoothed both sides of her short skirt downwards and then, with head back, she ran her fingers through her cascading, highlighted hair before adding, "I'll just be on the other side of that door, right there, if you need me."
Luke was shocked, aroused and disappointed, yet excited and left completely gob-smacked and wondering what might be coming next, and when? Or, "Was that just one bloody big prick tease?"
"I'm definitely going to need you again, Lucy," he called after her, as she disappeared with all her special secretarial skills still undiscovered and under wraps.
The following day, Luke returned from a business lunch in the city to find Lucy's office empty. He wanted to rekindle the previous day's proceedings and pursue her skills a little further. Glancing over to her hallway door he noticed that there was indeed a key on the inside. Looking over his shoulder and back into his own office through the connecting door at his own hallway door he determined the absence of a similar key.
"Useful to know."
He committed this relevant and highly informative data to memory. Just in case it was ever needed. He wouldn't remember what day it was, what anyone was wearing, or what he'd had for breakfast but he would remember which room had a lockable door.
He busied himself at his own desk before hearing Lucy return to her own.
"Is that you, Lucy?" he asked loudly, already knowing the answer to his obvious question.
"Yes, just been to powder my, er, nose. Do you need me?"
"Do I need you? Always," he said, and with that he stood up and made his way to the adjoining doorway. Leaning on the frame he folded his arms, crossed his legs and tilted his head to the frame.
"He must have been practicing his cheeky 'Rom Com' grin," thought Lucy.
"A truly handsome, framed picture, in designer suit and stubble, and he's mine for the taking." Luke was reading her mind, or at least he presumed, hoped, wished, prayed and crossed his fingers that this was what she was thinking.
He was right.
'So, you need me, Mister Banner, do you?" she spoke very slowly, softly and seductively. "Will that be my hands, my mind, my pencil, my..."
Luke didn't let her carry on. "I need you. And I need you to bring your special skills along too. I remember you saying that you played your secretarial role very well and 'what the boss needs, he gets'. Well, I need."
"Well, Mister Banner," she put down her clichéd nail file and gave him the 'come to me' index finger waggle with one hand, whilst busying herself with the other.
Luke livened up, with blinkers firmly strapped on, and came forth, placing his hands on her desk directly in front of her. She leaned in licking her lips and demanded his closer proximity with her immaculately manicured fingernail once more. Luke lowered himself to her face level, tantalizingly close, then as they gazed, dirty fashion into each other’s minds, click! Then, click again! And again!
Lucy had just stapled his dangling silk tie to the desk. He was captured.
"That's not very fair, is it?" Luke whined, secretly loving it, and hoping to hell it was going to lead somewhere good.
"What's fair got to do with it?" Replied Lucy, as she stood and swaggered around the desk in her unnecessarily high heels. Luke rested on his elbows and twisted his head to follow her round the room, but was somewhat restricted by his now firmly anchored tie. He could have ripped it loose but was keen to play along and see how the game would unfold.
Lucy came up behind him, bent her knees a little and cupped his buttocks in her upturned palms before standing up straight again, stroking him as she did so and then leaned into him in some sort of kinky reverse doggy style (spooning if you like).
Luke was desperately and mentally trying to push the door to and turn the key with his mind but he lacked the necessary E.S.P. to complete the procedure. He momentarily contemplated the nature of his predicament.
"Serious embarrassment, or incredible excitement?" His immediate future could be one or the other, or both. "My God this was horny!" He thought. "Risky, dangerous, sinful, foolish even, but worth every fucking penny."
"Now what do we do?" He asked.
"We?" Snapped Lucy, "You mean 'I', and 'I' am going to do what the boss wants. What he needs. What he's been gagging for, but hasn't had the balls to tell me."
And with that she slid her hands into his front trouser pockets and started stroking his thighs and groin from within. The thin veil of cotton only serving to accentuate her soft caresses.
He bowed his head in a mock display of surrender or was he just succumbing to the enjoyment and his lack of control of the situation. It didn't matter. Lucy was now in charge.
She withdrew her hands and bent her knees again. This time she extended an arm between his legs, under his crotch and came up between desk and dick. She grabbed at his tackle firmly through his trousers. Luke had risen to the occasion, in a 'big' way. There's something to be said for loose fitting suit trousers, rather than jeans, when room for growth and accessibility is required.
"It seems I was right. You were waiting for me to do this, weren't you?" She squeezed hi
s whole 'fruit bowl' firmly and then released him a little to tease and stroke.
"I, er, I kind of hoped you were going to bring your other game in to play at some stage," he replied.
A few more strokes and she slid out from beneath his crotch before manhandling his buttocks again whilst she had the opportunity, and the audacity. Lucy was enjoying her borderline office dominatrix role. She swaggered once again back to her side of the desk, rolling her hips in exaggerated fashion as she went. But before sitting down, she stroked the underside of his chin and then took hold of his jaw and gave him the lightest, most delicate kiss imaginable.
Lucy drew away slowly, flashing her eyelids at him as she retreated to her black leather office chair. She found the naughty, but very handy, scratching pencil used previously and unbuttoned her already revealing white blouse a little further. The utensil was put to task again between her breasts as she pushed the chair into recline.
Luke was almost dribbling a small pool onto her desk through his supporting hands, as Lucy once again licked her lips and offered him the dirtiest expressions of lust she could muster. He smiled dopily in return. For a moment he had forgotten all about the slightly ajar hall door and all caution known to man was now windward bound.
Leaning forward towards him again, Lucy opened her side draw and whispered 'loudly', "You know those panties I caught you staring at yesterday under my skirt?"
"Who, me?"
"Oh, come on, Mister Banner, you're not at school now you know. Admit it. You were staring right up my skirt. You're a pervert and a voyeur just like every other bloke I know. Yes?"
"Okay, okay, I was looking."
"Did you like what you saw?"
"Of course I did. I couldn't help myself. They were right there in front of me, looking like they needed to be stared at." Luke tried, just a little, to regain some dominant ground but she interrupted him with,
"I had to take them off, you know. They were dripping wet," and she used the naughty pencil to pick out a ruffled pair of panties from the draw like a TV detective handling evidence without surgical gloves on. "See." and she wafted the offending articles at nose height in front of him.