Mary
I don’t know why I returned to the office that evening, why I ran half a block to make sure I made it through reception before the doors closed at 5 p.m. but I did.
I should have been celebrating with the legal guys, it’s not every day you win a discrimination case, but it’s not every day some money grabbing little whore makes the whole thing up and the Tribubunal takes ten minutes to reach a decision clearing me and the firm of any wrong doing.
She had no idea that my web cam was running continuously, all the time my computer was on, I hadn’t realised myself to be honest that the little lens at the top of my monitor recorded most everything that happened, and when I found my tower unit’s memory stuffed full of footage of me working I decided to keep it on a spare hard drive as a record, I didn’t plan it but at every point in time that little tramp complained I had acted improperly and touched her up in my office the cam showed me and her talking about work.
Every single occasion, she even confirmed the date on occasion, “Yes Tomorrow, the twenty second.” she said in one clip.
She had no idea, she insisted CCTV footage was used showing her entering my office at the times she alleged I had assaulted her, so she could hardly complain when we suggested they use the web cam footage as well.
“Clearing your desk?” I asked as I saw her, bending over her desk stuffing the photographs, trinkets and junk in a cardboard box.
“Of course.” she said icily, “You won, remember.”
“I would hardly say I won, but you certainly lost.” I suggested, She still wore her prim proper Tribunal suit, dark blue Jacket and matching knee length skirt over pale almost white pantihose, her white blouse was crisp but hardly revealing and she had her long blonde hair pulled back into a bun, she even wore glasses, which hid her deep blue eyes and the tears which welled deep in them.
“Why aren’t you celebrating?” she asked.
“Don’t feel like it,” I answered, “I really want to understand why,” I paused and than I asked, “What did you hope to achieve?”
She looked down at the desk, “Phew, isn’t that obvious, glass ceiling, all that.”
“But why me?” I asked, “Why falsify a complaint about me?”
“You’re senior partner, well the senior partner’s son,” she pointed out, “Logic.”
“Mary,” I said soothingly.
“Miss Hastings,” she corrected me.
“Mary,” I repeated, “You put me through six months of hell, Jessica called off our engagement, I suppose you know that, and our legal bill is near a quarter of a million pounds.”
“Well mine’s not chicken feed.” she snapped.
“Good thing the union’s paying.” I suggested.
“That’s what I thought,” she said, “But they only pay my costs, not yours.” I must have looked shocked, “Didn’t you know, I’m bankrupt, effectively.” she said, “No job, which will mean no flat which means.”
“It’s hardly my fault!” I exclaimed.
“Of course it is, all those times, in your office.” she accused.
“I never did a thing!” I recoiled.
“Exactly!” she said triumphantly, “It was horrible, Jennie said all I had to do was wear a wonderbra and be friendly and the rest would follow.”
“I don’t understand?” I explained.
“Unprofessional behaviour,” she explained, “A quick quarter million settlement out of court and move on, except she’s moved on while I.”
“Jennie was your?” I asked.
“Girlfriend.” she said, “Are you shocked?”
“No, I thought you were a, ah.” I said searching for the politically correct term.
“Bi,” she said. “with a Be and an Eye.”
“I see,” I knew the rumours abounded of my romps with prostitutes, “Not Bee You Wye.”
“No,” she almost laughed.
“Oh well, no hard feelings eh,” I said, “What plans do you have?” I suddenly thought.
“Mind your own business.” she said, “Actually, all I can do is file for bankruptcy and go home to mother.”
“But your Law degree, surely you can’t practise if you go bankrupt?” I suggested.
“I waitressed in McDonlds, I’ll do it again.” she said.
“That’s fine at Seventeen but sad at Forty.” I told her.
“Well obviously I’m finished here,” she said.
“I’m afraid so, gross misconduct, making false allegations,” I agreed, “I think you will be terminated without notice from start of business Monday.” I turned away, “It’s funny.”
“It certainly isn’t.” she said.
“I wanted to say about your dress, ask you to cover up, you made me nervous,” I asked, “Did you know?”
“All hot and bothered, that was the plan,” she admitted.
“I like you better dressed like that.” I told her, “I suppose I feel safe.”
“Safe, you?” she said, “The ultimate predator, different girl at each social event!”
“They’re escorts, I pay.” I admitted.
“You pay whores for sex?” she said.
“Yes, but separately, the escorts are just for the social events,” I explained, “Well educated well spoken beauties and I treat them as if I were a gentleman, and then for sex.”
“For sex?” she said.
“Well well spoken and intelligent are hardly criteria.” I explained, “I just want to pay my fifty pounds and not have someone turn up nine months pregnant in due course.”
She turned round to face me and sat on the edge of her desk.
“I see,” she said, “Why are you telling me this?”
“You’re a good listener?” I suggested, “Captive audience.”
“But, it’s disgusting!” she suggested.
“I wanted to explain.” I continued, “I thought you wanted a relationship, no an entrapment, get pregnant, like Francine did to Dad, do you see?”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, “I see, no, that wasn’t it, not babies, just money.”
“Never mind, crossed wires, shall I give you a hand with this to your car?” I suggested.
“I’d better leave it, it’s company property.” she said sadly, “Get a Taxi.”
“I’ll help you down with the box,” I offered.
“How much is a Taxi to Sydenham?” she asked.
“No idea,” I exclaimed.
“You couldn’t lend me fifty could you.” she asked.
“Fifty, ah.” I said.
“Oh no don’t get ideas” she said, “No I didn’t mean that.”
“Right, Fifty, no, of course not, better not then.” I said realising I had mentioned paying Fifty quid for sex.
“I’ll drive you.” I offered, “Perkins can pick us up, how’s that?”
“Oh no,” she demurred.
“Ready made chaperone.” I insisted, “Least I can do.” I left her and went to my office, it took but moments to phone and ask Perkins to come to collect us in the Limo, well our big black company Chrysler 300 which looked like a Bentley but cost a third as much.
I looked in the Mirror, I guess I shouldn’t have but suddenly there was an old man staring back at me, I suppose it was the suit, but the fact was for six months I had been so preoccupied with the “Case” that I had never really thought what I looked like.
Christ. I thought, “What a prat!” The suit and shit were off the peg, about seventy quid from Asda Wal Mart, a deliberate ploy so I didn’t appear too arrogant but it meant that I looked like a failed carpet salesman not a senior figure in a two hundred year old family firm.
I would have to go home and change before the evening.
Perkins rang from the corner by Lloyds bank, it was difficult to park outside our building so we arranged that he would wait there until I waved from our steps, and when he arrived I gallantly carried Miss Hastings things down to the car.
Perkins glided to a halt and I opened the tailgate and loaded the box into the cavernous interior as Perkins opened the door for “Madam!”
I joined her in the rear seat.
“Where to?” I asked.
“My Mum’s at Sydenham, can we stop by my flat, Arbermarle Gardens 134b,” she asked.
“Do you know the way Perkins?” I asked.
“No Sir, but the Maestro does,” he said referring to the after-market sat nav glued awkwardly to the dashboard.
I accompanied her to her flat, the lift took us to the third foor she seemed very sad, “I was a girl scout,” she admitted, as we walked in to find her cases all neatly packed, “Be prepared,”
“You were expecting to lose?” I asked.
“Just hedging my bets.” she said, “It’s in Jennie’s name, I can just walk away.”
It seemed very strange to be carrying cases for the woman who tried to ruin me, but she seemed different in her neat business suit, somehow more desirable.
“I’ll just put the key through the Concierge’s door,” she said as I took the second pair of cases down to the Chrysler, I watched her walk away and go into a door some way away and then she was striding back down towards me, her hair still in a bun but at least her awful glasses were gone.
I think if she had thanked me my assistance either then or before we got to my house then things might have turned out differently but it easy to be wise with hindsight, but anyway logic suggested we stopped off at my house “The Pines” before we took her on to Sydenham and I went on to dinner courtesy of Haliwell Barnes.
“I don’t know what I’ll tell Mother,” she confided as we drove along and then as we entered the electrically operated gates of “The Pines,” she gasped, “Is this your parent’s place.”
“No, mine,” I told her, “I had a bit of a bonus from Goldmans before Grandfather did the emotional blackmail act on me, I’m not a lawyer do you see.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, “I see”
“Jessica twisted my arm,” I said, “My ex fiance.” I said “She believed you, and left me.”
“Oh.” she said.
“Perkins, would you stop by the Gymnasium please.” I asked, and I turned to Mary and said. “Jess designed it, but she was gone before the builders finished, would you care to see it.”
“I want to get home to Mother really,” she said.
“Oh but I insist,” I said, “It still looks like a barn from outside but Jess had it planned that all the state of the art fitness aids would be installed together with the pool, oh and she arranged it so no one could see in.”
“I see,” she said thoughtfully, as Perkins stopped the car and opened her door.
I slid across the seat inelegantly and followed her as Perkins led her to the old oak door that opened to show the state of the art steel door of the Gymnasium, “Fire proof, burglar proof, soundproof,” I told her, as I placed my palm on the polished aluminium sensor pad and the door hummed as it gently opened.
“I could have lost this through your lies.” I told her as I ushered her inside, “Fetch Madams bags Perkins,” I suggested.
“Excuse me?” she said, but Perkins was already walking away, and as he passed through the door hummed and closed oh so gently.
“What do you,” she said, but I took hold of the lapels of her jacket and wrenched it down her back trapping her hands behind her, “What are you doing!” she protested.
Her blouse tore nicely the button holes elongated and then broke through, and her skirt came down easily enough as sid her pantihose and panties and within a minute she was reduced from smart city girl to a near naked whore.
“No,” she squealed even before I tore her jacket in half and flipped her bra catch and she seemed completely unable to grasp what was happening, even when I ripped her brassiere down and off and freed her feet from the mess of shoes and panties to leave her pink and naked.
“You see,” I said, “Do you understand what it feel like to be destroyed, even as we speak Perkins is burning your cases, you have nothing Miss Hastings do you understand, nothing, between the Tribunal and myself you are utterly destroyed.”
“I’m.” she said in terror, “Don’t kill me.”
“Oh no, that’s too good,” I suggested and silently cursed the ready made trousers which made no provision for an erection at all, “no what is two hundred and fifty thousand pounds divided by fifty pounds?”
“F’five thousand,” she said.
“So here’s the deal, you stay here until I’ve fucked my quarter of a million quid out of you at fifty quid a time, do we have a deal?”
“Don’t kill me.” she said quietly.
“Then play with yourself and get yourself nice and wet for me.” I said menacingly as I picked up her skirt and tore it into three pieces and tore the gusset from her panties.
“You’re sick, you scare me!” she said.
“Don’t be afraid, I did five years with the Guards,” I reminded her, “I know exactly how to kill and how far I can go without maiming or killing as well Mary.
I saw her fingers working as she tried to spread herself to get some lubrication flowing, “Fourteenth of April against the files in the cupboard,” I reminded her from her statement,
“Shall we try in the cupboard over there?”
“No!” she whimpered, so I just slipped my nasty cheap trousers and underpants off and rounded on her as she lay beside the poolside steps.
I pulled her legs roughly apart by the ankles and knelt between her thighs an paused momentarily before I slammed my erection right into her in a single mighty thrust.
She wailed like an over curious virgin impaled for the first time so I waited a second before I started to hump her.
Suddenly the troubles of the day just melted away as I luxuriated in the liquid warmth of her innermost parts, “That’s really pleasant thank you.” I said nastily, “Make yourself at home, because it may well be your home for quite a while.”
“No!” she protested but her protests turned to whimpers of pleasure as despite herself she too felt the troubles of the day dissolve into a maelstrom of sex, true lust driven loveless sex, at least on my part, I just used her, I suppose it was because I could, no need for consideration, no risk of getting blacklisted by some pimp, I could just use her as I wished and I did, and the best bit was when I finally shot my load deep in her, without a disgusting rubber to constrain and contain my potency, I could just flood her womb and that was wonderful.
I stood up afterwards and handed her a fifty pound note, “Keep it safe and when you have a quarter of million let me know and I’ll let you out.”
She looked at me incredulously as she mopped at her wetness with her ruined shirt, she stared at me as I told her “I have a dinner party, Perkins will bring you some food, a properly balanced diet that will keep your coat nice and glossy, according to the packet!” well dog food never hurt anybody.
It was a nice touch but I found a leather belt for her neck and another longer one and a couple of
tiny padlocks and I padlocked her to the Pool steps handrail by her neck before I dressed and made my way to the house to dress formally.
I drove myself to town, Tim Forster of Haliwell Barnes had invited me with the prospect of either liquidating my assets to pay Miss Hastings or liquidating hers to pay my costs, the Ferrari howled menacingly as I headed down the dual carriageway but I soon wished that I had brought the MINI when the reality of London Traffic and more especially myopic London Taxi drivers became apparent.
It was an interesting evening, my date, “Amanda” was a second year student at Southampton University, I realised within seconds she had a first in lying from the university of life, and within five minutes she admitted everything including effectively leaving school at twelve and admitting she hoped for two hundred extra for extras over and above the companionship over dinner.
I decided to decline later, but Rupert Franklin interested me in a deal with Mary, “If we Bankrupt her it will send a message but we get nothing, but if she will sign an arraingement whereby we get anything over the basic two hundred quid a week she needs to live on then I think we could maybe recover something useful, although with just a year to clear bankruptcy a year or two might be the most we can lever out of her.”
“I’ll put it to her people tomorrow,” I offered, “shall we say fifty thousand as our target and just be satisfied at that?”
“I doubt we’ll clear twenty thousand, but lets try fifty as a first offer.” Rupert suggested.
Amanda who was by now calling herself Amelia was on at least her tenth glass of Champagne and was becoming something of a joke by now so as soon as was decent, and well before the port appeared I made my excuses and left.
I dropped Amanda off in the Kings Cross area where I was sure she would find a gentleman willing to pay for her charms while I returned to “The Pines.” Perkins had turned in judging from the faint glow from the gap in the curtains of his cottage, and Mrs Wilberforce my cook Housekeeper had gone to her cottage next door to Perkins just across the courtyard from my back door.
I undressed carefully and dressed in a tracksuit and trainers, I felt I needed some exercise, get the heart pounding that sort of thing, and then I jogged the hundred yards or so to the Barn and Gymnasium.
A chastened Mary watched warily as I approached her, he hands and neck were raw from her attempts to get free from the leather belts and there on the tiles a yellow pool glistened accusingly.
“I couldn’t get to the bathroom,” she explained.
“No,” I agreed, “Did you enjoy your food?” I hoped Perkins had fed her.
“It was disgusting, what was it?” she asked.
“It’s very nutritious, my Labrador “Patch” loved it,” I explained, “But you see if you behave like a bitch you eat dog food.”
I thought she would throw up but she just scowled disapprovingly as I mopped up the yellow pool with her ruined shirt.
“You can’t keep me here!” she protested.
“Actually, I rather think I can.” I contradicted her, “But I haven’t offered you a drink, would you like Champagne, or there is some orange juice or some Australian white or red.”
“You’re completely mad, as in insane.” she said.
“Champagne it is then,” I agreed, “Then perhaps we could make love,”
“You want to rape me again?” she asked.
“No, you were a willing partner,” I insisted, “remember?”
I carefully over filled a wine glass with cheap champagne and carefully spilled some on her breasts as I handed her the glass, she took a few sips before I took the glass from her and bent to lick the spilled liquid from her breast, her nipple stiffened instantly.
“Oh,” she gasped before she came back to reality, “Stop that please!”
“Hold still there’s some more,” I advised, as I saw champagne glistening on her lips and before she knew I had flicked my tongue across her lips leaving her slightly open mouthed and very confused.
She stared at me as I undressed, I was used to the gasps as I pulled my tracksuit bottoms down, no not that, my tool is only average, it’s the scar from where the shrapnel got me when our Warrior armoured car was hit by “Friendly Fire,” another two inches lower and I’d have been a Eunuch.
“Oh god!” she said, “No wonder they were so quick,” as realisation dawned that her claims that I had exposed myself to her were so obviously false, who could miss that ugly great scar, now no shirt tails draped my appendage and I stood before her naked.
“How, why?” she asked, “Can you have children?” she asked.
“Not personally, but with the assistance of a willing assistant I believe I can,” I assured her, “But it’s late and you have fifty pounds to earn….”
“Please, don’t hurt me.” she asked, “Give me a moment.” she asked as she dipped her finger into her pink slit, down among the blonde curls, exciting herself, “All right,” she agreed as she lay back accepting her fate.
It’s always better the second time, with the awkwardness gone, I find, but cold hard glazed tiles are as hard on my knees and elbows as they were on her back and I was soon wishing I had taken her to my own soft bed, but soon enough waves of pleasure washed over me, a sudden whim had her hair released and without any real effort on her part I was ready to cum.
I really enjoyed letting fly deep inside her, I never risked it with casual girlfriends or whores but I much preferred raw natural unprotected sex to the sanitised condomised version, I reasoned she would be infertile for at least a few weeks after she stopped taking her pill and I was pretty sure that as a Lesbian she was not diseased, so it was pure unadulterated pleasure as I pumped her completely full of my silvery cream.
I almost gave her a love bite on her neck as started to cum but that’s bad form with a whore so guilt stopped me until I realised it didn’t matter, and so I bit and kissed her neck like a thirsty Count Dracula oblivious to the effect on her beautifully pale skin.
I lay quietly for a moment as my erection shrank, resting on her, letting her take my weight, I know it’s not gentlemanly but she had little choice.
“I need the bathroom,” she announced which rather spoiled the mood.
I looked towards the bathroom door, polished aluminium in a teak frame, Jessica chose it, “Bitch,” I thought, my beautiful, capricious, arrogant, selfish, self obsessed Jessica who walked out when she believed Mary’s lies.
Jess wasn’t coming back, she became engaged to Giles so soon after leaving me that I would have assumed they had an affair behind my back if I hadn’t known her better.
Candlelight, fine wines, a sense of occasion, that was what was required to prise Jessica’s legs apart, we shared the same bed for nine months, kissed and cuddled but sex was somehow a precious commodity to Jess not something to be wasted, but she rode to hounds and Father and more important Grand Father liked her, so we made glorious love irregularly and I took my pleasure elsewhere, discreetly.
But Mary, I was already wondering whether my plan to release her in the morning was the right outcome, she fucked very nicely, Perkins could be relied on to keep her presence a secret, as could Mrs Wilberforce, although I couldn’t be sure Mable Wilberforce could be trusted not to flay the skin of Mary’s back with a Horsewhip if the opportunity arose, “She should be tied to a rail and horse whipped,” was one of her favourite sayings for anyone ineligible for her usual sanction of hanging, or “Put before a Firing squad like a rat in a Barrel.”
“I need the bathroom,” she said again.
“Yes,” I agreed, “Of course.” I pulled my jog pants up and slipped the sweater back on as I stood up.
I had a key somewhere, I remembered, there were duplicates in the touch pad operated cupboard by the rowing machine so I found one and unlocked her leash from the hand rail.
I was part way to the bathroom when she whined, “Surely you’re not going to watch?”
“No, its dark outside.” I said, as the idea came to me, she was a bitch, bitches are dogs and dogs do their business when they go walkies.
I killed the lights before I opened the door and then I dragged her out, she tried to resist but seemed scared to make too much noise as I pulled her out onto the concrete path and then dragged her onto the wet grass.
“I thought you needed the bathroom?” I suggested.
“You’re mad insane mad,” she shivered in the cold air, “not nice mad, insane mad.”
“You’re the one wearing a dog collar and nothing else,” I suggested, “maybe you feel like making a run for it?” I let her lead fall.
She looked up at me in the faint moonlight, “Don’t be ridiculous, no one would believe me!”
she said hopelessly.
Half a day ago she had stood before the tribunal in the Magistrates Court all dressed up like a senior executive and now here she was leashed and being taken walkies like a dog, like a bitch, a satisfied little bitch with my cum dipping out of her.
We walked quietly up the track towards the eight foot high boundary wall which divided us from the “North Road” as we still called it despite the redesignation to B road status since the Dual Carriageway opened and then eventually I asked, “I thought you wanted the Bathroom,”
“I can’t.” she exclaimed.
“Yes you can just squat down,” I told her and I pressed her down into a squat and idly held her leash with my left hand and stroked her hair with my right, “It’s all right, I’m here you’re quite safe!” I told her.
It wasn’t the least bit erotic, the smell was unpleasant, the farting noises disgusting but she did what she needed to right there, on the grass.
“I need a tissue,” she said quietly.
“There some rag at the Gym,” I reminded her, “Or there’s some long grass, watch the stinging nettles though.”
We walked back quietly and she cleaned herself up with her torn panties and skirt which I threw in the trash bin and then I leashed her to the handrail again, wished her “Goodnight”, locked the gymnasium door and walked home
I showered, ate a swift snack and turned in just before 2 a.m. and then I lay awake worrying about Mary for at least twenty seconds before I fell into a gloriously satisfied sleep.
to be continued