26. augusta 2005 13:00:01 CEST
Mary was the office mouse.
She was short with light-brown hair and green eyes. Invariably she dressed conservatively in a medium-length skirt, sensible shoes, a conventional dark-coloured blouse and, when it was not so warm, a cardigan. She wore spectacles which gave her a rather studious look.
She kept her head down at her desk, only looking up occasionally at her computer screen and rarely saying anything to anyone.. She did her work steadily and thoroughly and knew it all in detail. She had been with the company since she left school at sixteen and now, nearly thirty, she was still doing the same work, accepting the annual miserly pay rise without any apparent thought of promotion.
If she took any notice of the men in the office, they had no idea of it. She never looked at them any more than her job required, and although once or twice she had been asked out for a date she had never consented to go with any of them.
When Susan started work in the same small room as Mary, the contrast between the two girls could not have been greater, yet they became friends almost immediately. Susan was tall and somewhat imposing, but with an easy-going manner and she was an immediate success with all the men in the offices.
“Get yourself a man,” Susan told Mary repeatedly, “Doesn’t matter who, or whether it’ll last. You don’t know what you’re missing!”
“It’s not that I don’t like men,” Mary told her equally often, “It’s just that I don’t like feeling I’m not in control of myself, or not in control of the situation.”
“So tie them up, Mary, tie them up! Then you’re completely in control!”
“You’re awful,” said Mary, a little shocked but laughing all the same. “You know you can’t mean that.”
“Can’t I?” said Susan. “One day I’ll show you just what I mean.”
Susan had noticed that Mary often discreetly raised her eyes from her work when Mike, the office manager, passed them, and was always watched him as he left their room, staring at the closed door for several seconds after he went out of it.
“You fancy him,” she accused.
“No I don’t,” replied Mary indignantly. “He’s just….. a nice shape.” She blushed furiously.
“Go for it then. He’s unattached.”
“I heard he had a girlfriend.”
“Definitely not,” said Susan, who knew nearly everything about all the relationships of everyone who worked there, “He goes to see that woman over the road. You know, the one who charges for her services.”
“He wouldn’t want me then,” said Mary sadly, “She’s much better looking than me, and obviously far more experienced. What good would I be too him?”
“Good grief, girl,” said Susan, “That’s not the point. It doesn’t matter what good you’d be to him, it’s what good he’d be to you that it’s all about! I’ll arrange it for you, you just wait.”
“Don’t Susan. You can’t. You really can’t.” This time Mary was really horrified.
“You wait and see,” said Susan quietly.
Mary returned to her work, shaking her head.
It was only the next day that Susan bounced into the office they shared looking very pleased with herself.
“It’s all fixed,” she said enthusiastically. “You’re going to have Mike tonight after work.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s sorted. Over the road at Maggie’s. Mike will be all yours. I’ve arranged for Maggie to go out for the evening, so he’s all yours for as long as you want him.”
“I couldn’t possibly. It would be much too embarrassing. He’d probably turn me down. I wouldn’t know where to look, and he’d be bound to tell all his friends. They’d all be laughing at me.”
“Look,” said Susan, “I knew you’d say something like that. Trust me. I’ve arranged it so he’ll never be able to tell anyone. You come over to Maggie’s with me after work, and you can leave any time you want. Any time. I promise.”
“I will leave,” said Mary. “I’m sure I will.”
The two women worked a little later than usual as Susan suggested they should give Mike time to get over to Maggie’s before they turned up, then the two of them went over together, Mary reluctantly but her curiosity getting the better of her.
Maggie’s door was not locked. Susan pushed it open and shouted, “Hello?” There was no answer. “Good,” said Susan, “She’s gone.”
Susan led the way through Maggie’s house and into a back room. Mary gave a little scream as she saw what was in there.
In the centre of the room was a large bed, and on the bed was Mike. He was blindfolded and wore earphones with the muted sound of loud music coming from them. His wrists and ankles were tied securely to the corners of the bed, stretching him out spreadeagled. He was completely naked.
“See?” said Susan proudly. “He can’t see you. He can’t hear you. He’ll just think it’s Maggie, if he thinks anything at all. Even if he realises it’s someone else, he’ll never guess it’s you.”
She looked at Mary who was standing open-mouthed in shock. “So he’s all yours. I’ll leave you to it. You can come and find me any time you want to leave.”
Susan left the room, shutting the door and leaving the astonished Mary alone with Mike.
Susan waited outside the door for a few minutes, half expecting Mary to come bursting out and demanding to leave. When nothing happened, Susan went to make herself a cup of tea in Maggie’s kitchen, then settled down comfortably in a chair in the living room.
Thirty minutes passed, and Susan went back to check what was happening. She listened outside the door, and could hear small gasps and moans from Mary. She grinned to herself, and decided to go out for a walk.
An hour later and there was still no sign of Mary leaving the room. The noises were much as before. Susan was beginning to get bored.
It was ten o’clock, over four hours since Susan left Mary in the room, and Susan was began to wonder whether perhaps she should knock on the door and make sure everything was all right when suddenly there was a scream. The door burst open and Mary rushed out crying.
“He’s dead. I’ve killed him.”
Susan went in, not believing Mary but fearful of what she might find. Mike was lying quite still, limp and unresponsive. She could not see him breathing. She examined him lifting the blindfold for a moment. As she did, she heard the faint rustle of his breath. She examined him more closely, noticing bruising starting to appear round his groin area and where earlier he had been excited and erect he now flopped limply, looking very red and raw. There was also some bruising on his face. As she let the blindfold spring back on its elastic she heard him groan faintly.
“He’s not dead,” she told the relieved Mary, “But he’s been out cold – completely unconscious. Just starting to come round again. What on earth happened?”
Mary babbled. “I didn’t mean to. I just wanted a bit more and he couldn’t so I got up there and then he went all floppy and I thought he was dead…..”
“Slow down!” said Susan. “Start at the beginning and tell me exactly what happened.”
Mary hesitated. “Exactly? Everything?”
“I think you’d better,” said Susan firmly.
“Like you told me,” started Mary, “You said he was mine for as long as I liked. I didn’t want to at first. I just walked round him, looking. Then I touched his…. his thing and it felt nice. I had a warm feeling inside. I took off my panties and sat on the top of his legs holding his thing and touched myself with it. That was nice, but then I really wanted to do it so I did, and that felt wonderful, but he did it really quickly and then he was soft. That felt funny so I got off and he was all little.
I figured he would get big again if I played with it a bit, and I was right.
So I got on again and it was big for longer this time, but it took longer playing with it to get him big the next time.
Anyway, after the eighth time…”
“What?” Susan interrupted in astonishment.
“After the eighth time, I said. Is there something wrong?”
“No, no. Just carry on telling me.”
“After the eighth time I just couldn’t get it big again. I tried for ages and ages but it didn’t work. He kept saying enough, stop it, but I remembered what you told me about men so I knew he didn’t really mean it. You said they could never get enough.”
“Some of them,” muttered Susan to herself.
“I wanted it big, you see, but it just wasn’t working and I really wanted something and I wanted part of him touching me. I thought maybe he’d like it too if he could kiss me down there, and I think he did. It felt ever so nice, his lips and his tongue, and I started to get all tingly. Then I couldn’t feel his tongue any more, but I was so tingly with the feel of his face under me I think I was just wriggling around with the tingling going all over me, and somehow I ended up right on his nose. That was more like before but not quite the same and with the tingly too and getting more and more tingly all the time, and he pushing his head from side to side and up and down so he must have known it was making me tingly doing that. I think he was saying something but the tingly made me so I couldn’t hear. Then he stopped moving, and I didn’t realise for a bit. When I did realise I thought he was dead.”
“Right,” said Susan, rather at a loss for words. “I suppose we’re lucky he’s all right.”
“He is all right?”
Susan nodded. “He’ll be OK when he wakes up, I think. A bit bruised and sore, but no serious damage as far as I can tell.”
“Good,” said Mary, and gave Susan a push in the direction of the door.
“What? Why did you push me?” asked Susan.
“Go on,” said Mary. “Get out again. I don’t think the tingly was finished.”
“You can’t,” protested Susan. “He’s unconscious already.”
“GET OUT,” shouted Mary. “YOU SAID HE’S ALL RIGHT. YOU SAID HE’S COMING ROUND. YOU SAID I COULD HAVE HIM AS LONG AS I WANT. GET OUT. GET OUT NOW.”
Susan went, shutting the door behind her. As it closed, she heard Mary’s low moans of pleasure.
She went home.
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