A Study in Shame (12 page)

Magnus wasn’t like that at all, treating me like a lady most of the time, and like a wanton little slut when that was what I needed, which was perfect, while I could now enjoy my bisexuality openly, and his. We even called in on Charlie on the way to the restaurant, to explain the situation and show her the welt he’d made across my bottom. As with Magnus, I’d been a little worried that she’d expect me to herself, but then we’d already discovered that we couldn’t really satisfy one another because our tastes were too much alike. We’d even invited her to come and watch me get the cane on the following Saturday, which had added a new and thrilling aspect to my self-inflicted predicament.

I was a little sorry not to have been able to come clean to Mr Scott, but on the whole it was for the best. As Magnus had pointed out, it was something intensely private, while it would have been hard to admit what I knew about him without revealing at least some of my own secrets. That sort of thing was best kept out of the work environment, especially in a stuffy old company like ours, but it’s a small world and secrets are hard to keep, as I was about to discover.

***

Wednesday was relatively routine, although the prospect of my caning kept me in a state of constant low-level agitation, so that by the end of the day I was eager to misbehave, only to have Mr Scott keep me working on fiddling details of the Chinese deal until nearly seven o’clock. By then I was more hungry than anything, while I knew Magnus would have gone home. I thought of Charlie. I stepped out onto the main floor and was about to ring her when I realised I wasn’t alone. Stacey was still at her desk on the far side of the room. I smiled and gave a friendly but noncommittal salute, but she immediately got up and started across the room.

‘Hi, Lucinda. I’d thought you’d have knocked off long ago.’

‘No. Mr Scott wanted me. I’m on permanent call.’

‘That must be tough. I’ve just had to redo an entire requisition report. Do you fancy a drink?’

‘Um … yes, why not? Just let me shower and get changed.’

‘OK. Half-an-hour? I’ll be finished by then, I hope.’

‘Make it three-quarters.’

I needed three-quarters, because, while I hadn’t felt able to turn her down when we’d only just made friends, I badly needed to sort myself out first, and that had very little to do with showering or changing my clothes.

Morrison was sat in his usual place, and I was pleading with him even as I shrugged off my jacket and began to unfasten my blouse. ‘You know I’m going to be caned, don’t you, Morrison? Yes, you do, and you know how I feel about that. You should, when you’ve punished me so often, but just for now, just this once, I need you to take pity on me.’

His gaze never so much as wavered and I went on as I struggled out of my skirt and slip. ‘Please? I just need you to fuck me, that’s all. Just a quick fuck, please? Yes, I know I’m a slut, but I am going to be caned, so I will get the punishment I deserve. Please?’

I was down to my underwear and he watched as I stripped, unfastening my bra and letting it fall to bare my breasts, then peeling off my stockings one by one as his glassy stare lingered on my legs, before turning my back in embarrassment as I pushed my panties down but making sure I bent forward just far enough to treat him to a glimpse of bare wet cunt. Still he failed to react, even as I crawled naked onto the bed.

‘Please? Just fuck me, Morrison, that’s all I need, a quick dirty fuck. Please!?’

There was no more time to mess about, while my own silly behaviour had pushed me to the point at which there was no going back. I dug into the drawer under my bed for my harness and quickly strapped it onto him, fitting the largest and my favourite of the three dildos. Now he’d changed his mind, at least to judge by the state of his cock, eight inches long and rock hard.

‘Thank you, you’re a sweetie really. This has got to be quick, so I’ll go girl on top for once, bum to face so I can get friction to my clitty. Yes, I know that’s a liberty. I know I ought to be on my knees, but just this once.’

As I spoke, I placed him in the exact centre of the bed and mounted up. I was already soaking wet, and the big dildo slid up me easily, making me sigh as my cunt filled with thick hard rubber. It felt exquisite, and all the better for the way Morrison’s fur was tickling my bare bottom. I gave a little wriggle, pushing myself down to make my cheeks spread across his belly, taking the dildo deeper still and letting his fur touch the sensitive skin around my anus.

‘Oh, you dirty bear! That’s right, tickle my bottom hole while you fuck me. This isn’t going to take long at all.’

It wasn’t. I turned the vibrator on, and as I bent forward a little I spread out my cunt on the firm wrinkly surface of his balls. That alone would have got me there in no time, but with my bottom pushed out I was in a fine position for a beating, while the vibrations were making the tickling sensation of his fur on my anus even nicer. As I squirmed my cunt against his balls, my pleasure was already rising towards orgasm, and I began to talk to him once more. ‘That’s good. That’s nice. Yes, tease my bottom hole. Can you see between my cheeks? I bet you can, and the shaft of your cock in my cunt hole. What a dirty sight. What a dirty little bitch, and, oh, if only you could cane my poor bare bottom while you fuck me!’

I was there, riding his cock to wave after wave of ecstasy until I had to bite my lip to stop myself screaming before finally collapsing forward onto the bed. For a few long seconds, I just lay there, my bottom in the air, thinking of what a little slut I was and what ordinary girls missed out on, but I was supposed to be meeting one within half-an-hour or so and there was no time for reflection. I made for the shower, washed, towelled myself down and threw on a bra and a dress, leaving my knickers off again for sheer naughtiness.

A moment to collect up my work clothes and prop Morrison up against the pillows and I was ready. He was still wearing his dildo, but I still felt horny and was sure to need another fucking once I’d got home, especially after a few drinks. I’d let him have his way, nice and slow, with my hands cuffed behind my back, maybe even up my bottom, and on that happy thought I left the flat, taking care to double lock the door behind me.

Stacey was waiting for me on the main floor, still seated behind her computer, although I noticed she’d touched up her make-up and put on more of the spicy, faintly citrus scent she used. That gave me something to talk about and we discussed perfume as we took the lift down to ground level and crossed the plaza. I’d assumed we’d be going to the bar we’d visited before, but she steered me around the side of a different block to a place that looked as if it had been there for hundreds of years, although it couldn’t have been more than twenty since it was built. There were alcoves, each separated from the next by partitions of dark wood and frosted glass, one of which she chose for us before going to the bar and returning with a chilled bottle and two glasses.

‘This is cosy, isn’t it? Hardly anybody comes here, not from the company.’

‘I didn’t even know it existed.’

‘I like to explore. There are all sorts of amazing places around here, some from when it all used to be docks.’

I thought of the Wharfingers, Magnus’s warehouse and the street which included the Pink Pussycat, amused by the contrast between Stacey’s life and my own. She’d gone quiet while she poured the wine, and when she spoke again she’d gone back to the subject of perfume.

We drank, we talked and after a while I bought a second bottle, all the while with Stacey growing quieter and less sure of herself, until she became visibly nervous, twiddling the stem of her glass and staring at the yellow-green gleams in her wine, so that I couldn’t help but wonder if she wanted to confide in me, no doubt on some tedious piece of office politics on which I might be able to bring influence to bear.

‘What’s the matter, Stacey?’

She took a swallow of wine before replying. ‘Did you know that I was on a management course last year?’

‘Yes. I handled the applications for Mr Scott.’

‘It was a busy couple of weeks, a lot of work, a lot of networking, a lot of people copping off with each other.’

She was blushing, and she was clearly about to make a confession, but I hadn’t been there so couldn’t see what it had to do with me.

‘Go on.’

‘I – I got very drunk and I ended up in bed, not with a man, with another woman. I really want somebody to talk to, and seeing as you …’

She trailed off, red-faced with embarrassment, but no worse than me. I was astonished to learn that there was another side to her, but also wondering exactly what she knew and why she’d decided I was the right person to talk to.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, you know. You’re a lesbian.’

‘No I’m not!’

‘Oh, come on, Lucinda, everybody knows! You’ve turned down all the hottest men in the office, most of them twice.’

‘Yes, but … all right, as you’re being so honest with me. I’m bisexual, but that’s to stay between us.’

‘Bisexual? Shouldn’t you be one thing or the other?’

‘Not necessarily. Don’t you like men?’

‘Yes, but nobody in particular. There’s a woman I like, but it’s awkward.’

A sudden suspicion hit me. She’d always been mean to me, but then so had Juliette Fisher until the fateful day I’d ended up over her knees and then on mine. I decided to test the water a little, although her main problem seemed to be accepting her own sexuality.

‘Doesn’t she like you?’

‘Maybe. I don’t know. But I couldn’t be open about it. My family would disown me for a start. So, what, do you like men and women?’

‘Yes, but it’s difficult in the office, so I prefer to keep my personal life separate.’

‘Oh.’

She sounded disappointed, which reinforced my suspicions. I didn’t want to hurt her, and she was a colleague, but I couldn’t help but think of all the times I’d fantasised over the thought of having sex with her. Common sense said to keep the conversation impersonal and let her down as gently as I could, but the wine was starting to get to me and she looked so big and so strong, just the sort of girl I like, and not so very different to Juliette. I forced myself to stick to the issue at hand, or what she was trying to pretend was the issue at hand.

‘Look, I know it’s difficult, but let me tell you a story, about myself and a girl called Juliette Fisher. She was a little older than me, very beautiful, very dark, a bit like you really. She …’

I paused, wondering how much I dared reveal, even though she was confiding in me, especially when Juliette’s way of expressing her love had been based on doing horrible things to me, and my response on enjoying the treatment. It was best to keep it simple.

‘She wanted me, badly. I didn’t really know what I was doing, at first, but it felt good and she taught me a lot, including that having feelings for other people of the same sex doesn’t necessarily mean you’re gay. It just means you love people as individuals, for who they are, not what they are.’

What she’d actually said was that I was a dirty little slut who’d do anything for anybody with the guts to give me a hot bottom, but to admit to it would only have confused matters, and probably made Stacey run screaming into the street. As it was, she was drinking in my words and I carried on with greater confidence. ‘So there it is. You went to bed with another woman, and I hope you had fun. No harm done. As for your family – that’s life, I’m afraid. Don’t tell them. My parents would have multiple fits if they knew half the things I’ve done.’

She looked as if she was about to burst into tears, so I leaned forward to give her a hug, which she returned with surprising intensity before suddenly breaking away, her blush now a furious scarlet. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t …’

Nothing more needed to be said. I sat back, feeling unsure of myself. All I had to do was take control and we were going to end up in bed together, and she had been involved in my fantasies so many times I’d lost count. She was a work colleague, but a work colleague who shared a secret, and who plainly fancied me. Even if it all went horribly wrong, she would presumably keep quiet, while if I took her to bed I’d be able to kiss her, suckle at her lovely big breasts, lick her to ecstasy, maybe even persuade her to sit on my face to make me kiss her anus the way I’d imagined it so many times.

I took a firm hold on her hand. ‘Come on. We’re going.’

‘Where?’

‘My flat. And don’t worry about security. Just tell them you’ve forgotten something.’

She came, as drunk and giggling as I was myself, back across the plaza and into our building, where we forced ourselves to behave sensibly for a moment as we passed Security. We stood stock still in the lift, determined not to misbehave under the beady eye of the CCTV, but the moment we reached the safety of my door I took her in my arms to share a long open-mouthed kiss that set the seal on what was about to happen between us. Once inside, we were more urgent still, pulling at our clothes to get each other stripped down in the hallway, and it was more than I could resist not to take one heavy breast in each hand as they came bare, to suckle at her nipples in a gesture I was hoping she’d realise meant that she could do with me as she pleased. She liked it anyway, sighing with pleasure before I broke free to scamper into the bedroom, where Morrison sat exactly as I’d left him, and forgotten him, propped up against my pillows with eight inches of black rubber erection thrusting up from between his furry black thighs.

‘What the hell is that?’

‘Um … that’s Morrison, my teddy bear.’

‘Yeah, with an erection!’

‘Well, yes … don’t you have a vibrator?’

‘Not like that! What are you like, Lucinda Salisbury!’

I was doing my best imitation of a Morello cherry and didn’t answer.

Stacey walked over to the bed, picked up Morrison and touched his cock, before immediately jerking her fingers back. ‘It’s all sticky! Lucinda, you didn’t? Not just before you came out with me?’

I hung my head, my gaze fixed firmly on the ground, maybe more ashamed of myself than at any other time in my life, which took some doing. Speaking was out of the question, but I managed a single feeble nod.