A Study in Shame (4 page)

Unfortunately, there was no time to bring myself to a leisurely climax over the memories of the night before. I’d just stripped off my nightie and knickers in anticipation of some fun when Mr Scott had called up to tell me I was to be in his office for a meeting at half-past eight. That barely left me enough time to dress, so I contented myself with a long moment with my thighs wide open and my back arched as I played with my breasts, wondering what he’d say if I came down in the nude, then got up.

At precisely eight thirty I knocked on his door.

‘Come. Good morning, Miss Salisbury.’

‘Good morning, Mr Scott.’

He had looked up as I spoke, and gave me a slightly quizzical look, as if there was something unusual about my appearance. As I had actually dressed, and made-up with my usual care, I knew there wasn’t, but couldn’t help but wonder if there was some sort of afterglow to good sex that showed. He adjusted the papers on his desk and turned to his computer, frowning at the screen as he spoke once more.

‘This weekend is a team-building exercise, Miss Salisbury, as I’m sure you know?’

‘Yes, sir. Bayford Woods. Rendezvous eleven o’clock in the main lobby.’

‘That’s right. As you also know, it’s organised by Confidence. They’ve completed their analysis of staff-interaction patterns within the office and they have two recommendations. First, that we build respect for the authority structure by appointing team leaders with military ranks. Second, that we encourage internal competition and individual aspiration by playing a male team against a female team. This seems like a good idea to me.’

It seemed like a load of nonsense to me, but I knew better than to argue.

‘Yes, sir, an excellent idea.’

‘Good, because you’ll be leading the women’s team, with the rank of lieutenant.’

‘I–I’m flattered that you should pick me, sir, but surely somebody more senior?’

I wasn’t flattered. I was horrified. They all thought I was a stuck-up little bitch as it was, and trying to order them around during a paintball battle we were sure to lose really wasn’t going to help. Then there was the mud, and the inevitable bruising, and at least thirty over-competitive young men for whom I was sure to be the prime target.

Mr Scott was shaking his head. ‘Miss Phillips is in Antigua, Mrs Ryan’s on maternity leave and Mrs Grierson feels such activities are incommensurate with her position as Chair. Look on it as an opportunity to show your authority and leadership skills.’

I was entirely in sympathy with Mrs Grierson and would cheerfully have swapped places with Miss Phillips, or even Mrs Ryan, but there was a hard edge to Mr Scott’s voice and I knew full well that he felt I didn’t make enough effort to be part of the team.

‘Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.’

‘One hundred and ten per cent, Miss Salisbury.’

I managed a smile.

That was only the start. I was not only expected to lead my colleagues on the coming Saturday, but also had to assemble my team, appoint sergeants and corporals, then outline our tactics, all on top of my usual workload. The only constructive thing I could think of was a remark my great-uncle Cyril had made about officer training during the Second World War. When asked how he would go about assembling a piece of complicated equipment in the field, he had replied, ‘Sergeant, assemble the equipment’, which was apparently the right answer. I decided to work on similar lines, by appointing the pushiest girls in the office as my NCOs and letting them get on with it while I stayed safely out of the way.

The obvious choice was Stacey Atkinson, a big dark-haired girl who was the number two in procurement. I’d heard she was from an army family, while there was something about her that frightened me and had led to more than one dirty fantasy. I called her into my office, told her she was my sergeant and ordered her to distribute a memo to all relevant female staff. She jumped at the suggestion, and that would have been that had not Mr Scott insisted on attending our meeting. That left me no choice but to exert my authority over the others, which left Stacey looking as if steam was about to start coming out of her ears.

I wanted to explain, but when I finally got the time I discovered that she’d already left, so there was nothing for it but to go up to my flat and collapse into a chair with a glass of wine. Feeling stressed and exhausted, I’d drunk half the bottle before I’d got dinner ready and finished the rest before it was dark. By then I’d started to perk up a bit, and went into my bedroom to examine my naughty purchase of the night before. It was an extraordinary piece of kit, and something I was going to have to keep very carefully hidden.

Charlie had put on the harness with the big black cock-shaped dildo attached in order to fuck me, but there was a lot more to it than that. There were two more dildos for starters, another one in the shape of a cock, equally long but thinner, which suggested it was designed to go up a girl’s bottom, a very dirty thought indeed, and a third with two slim pegs, one above the other, and an extension below, made like two fingers and a thumb but very strangely shaped, which was positively bizarre.

The cuffs could be used separately, attached to each other, or fixed to the front or back of the harness. It seemed a bit odd to want to restrain the girl doing the fucking, until I realised that, if I’d had the cuffs on, Charlie could have fixed them to the harness while she fucked me, leaving me utterly helpless. They could also be fixed to the head harness, which was positively perverted, a sort of cage made of leather straps and designed to encase the wearer’s head with her mouth either held open or plugged by the dildo gag, a double-ended monstrosity that made me shake just to hold it in my hands as I spread everything out on the bed.

Morrison was sat in his usual place at the top, his red eyes staring out from his furry black face with his usual supercilious expression. I felt I owed him an explanation.

‘There’s no need to be cross, Morrison. A girl’s got to have some fun occasionally, after all. And besides, I didn’t mean to buy all of this, just a vibrator. Not even that, really. I was going to get a pair of tarty panties and wear them as a punishment. You’d have approved of that, wouldn’t you?’

His expression suggested that he would have, so I went on, picking up the head harness and fitting the dildo gag into place.

‘And besides, it would be really horrid to have this used on me, wouldn’t it? Look, these straps go around my head so that I have to take the short rubber cock in my mouth …’

I shut up as I fed the fat black cock into my mouth. It was very thick, enough to make my jaw feel stretched, and there was no question that being made to wear it would feel like I was being punished, or a victim to some cruel bitch, Stacey Atkinson possibly, albeit a willing victim. I sucked for a while, then pulled it out. Morrison definitely looked as if he approved.

‘You see? It’s awful, and imagine how I’d be, on my back, with somebody sat on my face so that she can have her fun on the long rubber cock, maybe that bitch Stacey, wriggling her big fat bottom in my face and fucking herself.’

I broke off, imagining how Stacey would look, poised over my face, perhaps with four of her colleagues holding me down, her big muscular bottom stark naked. She’d be laughing as she lowered herself onto the long black cock-shaped dildo sticking up from my mouth, enjoying the look of horror on my face until she sat down and I was smothered between her meaty bum cheeks, with her anus pressed to my nose. It didn’t bear thinking about, even though she was just the sort of girl I’d always gone for, but she didn’t even like me.

‘OK, maybe not Stacey. Charlie then. She’s nice. No, you couldn’t do it, you’re a boy. No, Morrison, that’s not fair. Besides, you don’t even have the right equipment. Oh …’

A very naughty idea indeed had occurred to me, something so deliciously dirty, shameful and downright perverse that for a moment I wasn’t sure I could go through with it at all. Yet I knew how to deal with that sort of situation. A little time and a little more drink and I’d be ready. Besides, Morrison wasn’t backing down.

‘Well, I suppose so, if you really think I ought to be punished? You do. I thought you would. And I’m to wear the head harness with the gag in my mouth? You realise how stupid I’ll look with seven inches of thick black cock sticking out from my mouth and another three inside, don’t you? Yes, that’s how big they are, it says so on the packet. You don’t care? I deserve it? Oh, all right then, and I suppose you want me in the nude?’

He
always
wanted me in the nude. I’d been in the flat for over eighteen months but it still didn’t feel like home and probably never would. That made going about with no clothes on feel vulnerable and exciting. The locked door and extensive security system meant that I couldn’t actually have been much safer, but that didn’t help my trembling as I stood to strip, slowly peeling off every last item of clothing until I was fully nude. Even in the bedroom being naked had its effect, but it was far stronger as I moved to the kitchen and made myself a large gin and tonic. The living-room curtains were still open and all I had to do was walk to the window and I’ve have been naked to half of London, but I was careful to stay out of view as I pulled them close.

Seated naked at the table I let my feelings rise, sipping my drink as I thought of how it had felt to be taken from behind by Charlie and wondering what was worse, that or what I was about to do. Both clearly came under the heading of inappropriate behaviour, but there was really no question of which would be considered more shocking, and that was the latter. Yet Morrison was right, I deserved what was coming to me.

He was waiting for me in the bedroom, his stare more censorious than ever.

‘OK, OK, at least let me get ready. I know I need to be punished, but there’s no need to be so stern with me.’

I swallowed down the last of my drink and went to sit on the bed. Morrison fitted the harness quite well, with his stumpy little legs sticking out to either side and his round belly already snug at the same fitting Charlie had used. I was going to have to tighten it up a bit, but first I needed to fit a dildo.

‘No, not that one, Morrison. I may have been a naughty girl, but I don’t deserve a cock up my bottom. Not the fingers either, for the same reason. You can give me a good fucking and be content with that.’

With the dildo in place he looked gloriously obscene, just as I’d imagined him so many times before, with a huge black cock and a set of heavy balls protruding from between his legs. A few adjustments and the harness was firmly attached, with the dildo on the thrust setting I needed to get my fucking. Next I had to put myself in bondage.

‘Yes, I know I need to go in the wrist cuffs so you can hold me for my fucking. I’ll have to put the head harness on first though, and after that I won’t be able to talk to you, so you’ll just have to do your business. Fuck me hard, Morrison. Really punish me.’

I picked up the head harness as I spoke, and slipped it on, taking the fat black rubber cock into my mouth and shutting myself up, which was a shame, because I love to talk dirty while I masturbate, but it had to be done. Now silent and shaking harder than ever, I strapped the wrist cuffs on and crawled into the exact centre of the bed, to kneel down with my face against the coverlet and my bum in the air.

Morrison was behind, ready to mount me, and as I picked him up the huge black dildo slid in up my cunt with embarrassing ease. Fixing my wrist cuffs to the harness was tricky, but I got it done and could still reach the control, which I flicked to maximum. Immediately the fat black cock was thrusting into me, deep and hard, with the vibrator running to send powerful shivers through my body and make me gasp every time the wrinkly rubber balls squashed to my clit. I was going to come almost immediately and there was nothing I could do to stop myself.

I struggled to focus, determined to get the best out of my orgasm as I thought of the state I was in, stark naked on my bed but for a cage of leather straps around my head that held a stubby black cock in my gaping mouth, my wrists strapped up tight behind my back with Morrison mounted on my upturned bottom. And he was fucking me, my own teddy bear, at last, his massive black cock thrusting in and out of my straining cunt and every touch of his balls to my clit bringing me closer and closer to an orgasm over which I had no control whatsoever.

When it hit me I’d have screamed the place down if I hadn’t had my mouth plugged with the bulky dildo, and as it was I nearly bit through the thing. I couldn’t stop it either, my muscles jerking uncontrollably as wave after wave of ecstasy ran through me, to the point at which I thought I was going to pass out before I finally rolled to one side and fell off the bed to land in a tangled, sweaty heap on my bedroom floor with Morrison’s cock humping up and down in my bottom slit.

‘Lucinda Salisbury, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.’

I was, and it felt so good. In the space of two days I’d begged for sex from a shop girl, and got it, then put myself in bondage to be fucked by a giant black teddy bear. I’d woken to the memory of how utterly helpless I’d felt with my hands cuffed tight behind me and his huge cock pumping in my cunt. A few minutes later I’d come over the same dirty memory, spread out on my bed with my nightie up and knickers around my ankles. I’d been smiling ever since, and even the prospect of paintball didn’t seem too daunting.

The leaflet from Confidence said to wear combat attire, an instruction repeated in Mr Scott’s memo and my own. I didn’t have any, but I’d passed an army surplus shop on my way back after my encounter with Charlie and there was plenty of time to sort myself out. There was also the question of keeping the bruising to a minimum, because I knew I was going to get shot. Half the men in the office would be out to get me, while I always seem to end up on the loser’s end in that sort of situation anyway.

Even that couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I set off across the plaza. If anything, the mild thrill of fear and the prospect of my certain and rather public humiliation was quite exciting. After all, if I couldn’t be taken down to the main floor and put out for general use, at least I could provide them with the fun of paintballing me, and my reservations of the day before now seemed silly.