Kristin's Demotion

by Lorenzo Marks

  During periods of semi-consciousness, a parade of confused ramblings flowed through her head. Her body, she knew, had betrayed her once again. Not the first time, but most emphatically the second, when he had brought her to a shuddering climax. Emotionally, she felt empty. She loathed him and there was no way she would ever be attracted to him, yet there was no doubt he had managed to arouse her in a way that she had never experienced before, and that filled her with dread and revulsion.

  Hidden in darkness under the duvet, she had no idea what time it was, and she knew she would remain there, suckling on his penis until he woke up. Irrationally, she found herself thinking about Charles. Although she hadn’t been seriously in love with him, it had hurt her when Shepard had forced her to dump him. She wondered what he was doing. Had he simply written her off? Was he with another woman? Or was he waiting for her to call? She desperately wanted to let him know the truth about what had happened but of course, her fear held her back.

  She heard Shepard yawn above her and then felt his fingers on the collar around her neck. He began to rhythmically flex his hips and his glans expanded in the back of her throat. Understanding the implied instruction, Kristin bobbed her head, synchronizing with his movements. His grip on her collar tightened and she felt the muscles in his thighs tighten. His penis jerked and she felt the now familiar hot rush of his semen in her throat. She swallowed the briny fluid down, trying not to retch and then feeling his organ softening, allowed it to slip out of her mouth.

  After a moment, she heard him say, “Shower, and make breakfast.”

  That was it. No ‘Kristin’, no ‘slave’, and when he had finished eating, there would be no ‘thank you’. She now understood that this was the life he had planned for her and there would be no let up. She was his fantasy slave girl and there was no way he would ever let her go.

  With a heavy sigh, she showered, buckled on her high heels and went downstairs to the kitchen. Naked and shivering, she prepared his eggs, and poured the coffee and then popped two slices of whole-wheat bread in the toaster. Hungrily, she eyed the rest of the bread. She glanced at the door nervously, and then snatched up a slice and shoved it into her mouth. She was still trying to bolt it down when Shepard entered the kitchen.

  He saw her chewing, sat down and said, “So you’re stealing from me now?”

  Still with a mouthful of masticated bread in her mouth, Kristin mumbled, “No, Master.”

  “Lying, too? My, we have gone backwards, haven’t we?”

  Unsure of what to do, Kristin spat the chewed lump of bread into her hand and said, “I’m sorry, Master. I was hungry.”

  Buttering his toast, Shepard said, “That may be. But that piece of bread was not your property, was it?”

  “No, Master.”

  This conversation, Kristin decided, is absurd. He’s been spending my money like water for the past two days and now he’s lecturing me about a measly piece of bread!

  “Well, if you’re hungry, I guess we’ll have to give you some breakfast.”

  Kristin looked at him apprehensively. Was he making fun of her?

  Shepard nodded at the package of bread on the counter top.

  “Finish it.”

  Kristin looked. There must have been at least ten slices left.

  “All of it, Master?”

  Ignoring her, he sliced the top off his egg.

  Taking his silence as the end of the conversation, Kristin stepped over to the counter and took out another slice of the unbuttered bread and devoured it quickly.

  Without looking up, Shepard said, “Sit on the floor while you eat.”

  Feeling absolutely stupid, Kristin took her little bag of dry bread and sat on the kitchen floor with her legs tucked under her. Again, Shepard was treating her like a silly little girl!

  Looking at the bag, she saw there were still eight slices remaining. She bit into the next piece and chewed it slowly.

  Shepard glanced at her. “If it’s not all gone by the time I’ve finished my breakfast, you’ll be in even more trouble.”

  She didn’t know how long that was going to be, and on the assumption that Shepard would enjoy punishing her, she hurriedly forced it down. She struggled with the next slice. Her mouth had gone dry and she had to deliberately work up saliva in order to get it down. Her stomach had shrunk due to the meager amount she had consumed over the past two days, and she was already feeling quite full. She raised the next slice to her lips and emitted a little unladylike belch.

  “Master,” she said. “May I have some water?”

  She saw that he had finished eating and was now drinking his coffee.

  “No, you may not,” he replied curtly.

  Kristin looked at him sulkily, and crammed the bread into her mouth. She had to work at swallowing it but it wouldn’t go down. Kristin retched and the masticated lump returned to her mouth. Her eyes watering, she chewed on it again and eventually succeeded in swallowing it.

  Shepard obviously realized she might choke because he said, “Go and drink some water from the sink then.”

  Kristin stood, went to the sink and craning her neck under the faucet, drank thirstily. Then she resumed her position on the floor and carried on working her way through the bread. With much effort, and cheeks bulging, she got the final piece down and then Shepard said, “Your clothes have been laid out on the bed. Off you go.”

  Feeling decidedly nauseous, Kristin went up to the bedroom to see what he had selected for her. To her dismay, she discovered that today’s office wear was a far more outrageous get-up than the day before.

  A very small, see-through white blouse and a navy blue pleated skirt lay on the bed. Sitting beside them were a pair of white panties, a matching bra, and a pair of black fishnet stockings. Her red pumps were on the floor and to complete the outfit, Shepard had left her one of his black office neckties

  Kristin dressed, and glumly inspected herself in the mirror. She looked like a schoolgirl! She went back downstairs with the necktie draped around her neck, because she didn’t know how to tie it.

  Shepard had his coat on and his briefcase in hand when she presented herself to him in the hallway. To her chagrin, he actually smiled when he saw her.

  “Come here,” he said.

  Kristin stood before him and tried not to look into his face as he reached around behind her neck to remove her slave collar and then fix the necktie. He stood back and contemplated her outfit.

  “You look adorable,” he announced, making her feel even more foolish than ever.

  On the way to work, they made another stop at Kristin’s apartment block where Shepard instructed Kristin to collect her mail, and inform the manageress that she would be away for a while. As she leafed through the stack of bank statements and bills, Kristin realized that she was taking a peek at her other life, her real life. Today was Tuesday. She had been at Shepard’s house since Saturday night. Had it really only been two days? A pang of grief stabbed at her as she remembered the pleasant date with Charles at the restaurant before Shepard’s fateful phone call.

  Back in her car, Shepard took her mail from her.

  “Master, I need to take care of those,” Kristin ventured.

  “I’ll decide what needs to be taken care of,” he said, dropping the envelopes into his briefcase.

  They proceeded on to the office. George was at his desk in the lobby when they entered and he greeted Shepard warmly before fixing his eyes on Kristin.

  “Miss Hartman,” he said, by way of greeting.

  There was something unnerving about the way the old man was looking at her. In the past, he had always ogled her discreetly, but now he was openly scrutinizing her absurd costume with an amused twinkle in his eye. With a sudden rush of alarm, it dawned upon Kristin that he was no longer afraid of her! What had Shepard told him?

  They passed through the main office with Kristin painfully enduring the lecherous stares of the male employees.

  S
hepard led her into her own office and, seating himself in front of her computer, signaled for her to stand next to him. Kristin had a sudden glimmer of hope that she would be allowed to do some real work but it was quickly dashed.

  “Open your files for the Motoko contract,” he said.

  Kristin hesitated.

  “Those are confidential files,” she said, quickly adding, “Master.”

  “Nothing of yours is confidential anymore,’ he said impatiently.

  Kristin clicked on the icon and entered her password. As she did so, it occurred to her that Shepard couldn’t possibly have been the one who hacked her files. He just wasn’t smart enough.

  Shepard ran through the list of files until he found the history of amendments to the ABACUS program.

  “Ah, this is what Brian was talking about,” he said to himself.

  Kristin realized that the amendments must have been at the core of the potential problem, and that Brian must have discussed it with Shepard while she slept in a drunken stupor in his office. She focused her attention on the screen in the hope of learning anything that might provide a potential way out of her predicament. But Shepard didn’t open the file. Incredibly, he simply deleted it.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked, forgetting her slave role.

  “I didn’t,” Shepard said simply. “You did. Now, I know you have back-ups in your safe. Bring them to me.”

  Utterly confused, Kristin punched in the combination on her wall safe and removed a memory stick which she handed to Shepard. He dropped it in his pocket and then popped open his briefcase. Kristin watched with growing alarm as he produced a bottle of Gordon’s gin and placed it on her desk.

  “Take a swig,” he said. “But only one. I don’t want you passing out again today.”

  Kristin shook her head.

  “Please no, Master. It tastes horrible.”

  Shepard uncapped the bottle and pushed it towards her.

  “Drink.”

  Kristin grasped the bottle with a shaking hand and raised it to her lips. The vile liquor burned her throat as it went down, causing her to gag. Unaccustomed to the alcohol, she immediately felt giddy.

  “That’s a good girl,” said Shepard, standing. “Come on.”

  Kristin followed him woozily into his new office, and he sat behind the desk where she had been so humiliated the previous day.

  She stood uncertainly before him, her thoughts slightly fuddled by the liquor.

  “Now for stage two,” he said. “I want you to go to the women’s rest room, take off your shoes, and put them in the waste bin.”

  Kristin’s head wobbled as she tried to assimilate what he had just said. Why in God’s name would he want her to do such a ludicrous thing? But Shepard hadn’t finished.

  “Then you are going to go back out into the main office and call for everybody’s attention. You will announce that you have lost your shoes and if anyone should locate them, to please return them to you.”

  The room seemed to sway as she understood the implications of what he was telling her to do. She had spent the past year building a position of authority over these people. She was known as a tough and smart executive and now he wanted her to behave like a simpleton in front of them!

  “Hurry up. I want them to smell the alcohol on you.”

  At first, Kristin was unable to move. Up until now, she had gone from one humiliating experience to another with Shepard, but this one was going to be the first openly public one at OFS.

  Timorously, she opened the door and crossed the office. Most of the cubicles were occupied and everyone was surreptitiously eyeing her short skirt and stocking-clad legs as she swished by. When she reached the rest rooms, she checked to make sure she was alone, and then stepped out of her pumps and dropped them into the bin with a clunk.

  Shaking her head in disbelief, she went back outside and stood in the middle of the office, in full view of everyone, dressed in her undersized blouse and skirt, necktie and fishnet stockings. Some of the employees swiveled around on their chairs and looked at her curiously. Kristin cleared her throat and, with her face turning a bright shade of crimson, said thickly, “Everybody? Excuse me. May I have your attention?”

  Now, all around the open plan office, heads turned towards her.

  “I… umm… I appear to have misplaced my shoes.”

  Nobody spoke and for Kristin, the silence was excruciating. She noticed that Shepard was standing in the doorway of his office, watching and smiling.

  “They’re red,” she added idiotically. “So… ah… if anyone finds them, please would you return them to me?”

  Somebody tittered, and right at that moment, all Kristin wanted to do was curl up in a ball on the floor and disappear.

  Everybody just looked at her dumbfounded, and just when she thought her excruciation couldn’t get any worse, Roger Levine, the projects manager, asked dryly, “At what point did you first notice you weren’t wearing them, Miss Hartman?”

  This drew more muted laughter and mortified, Kristin fled, not into her own office, but unconsciously into Shepard’s.

  He closed the door behind her, grinning broadly.

  “They’re all laughing at me,” Kristin wailed miserably.

  “Wait until the end of the day, sweetheart,” he replied. “They haven’t seen anything yet.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kristin sat on her low chair at Shepard’s shoulder while he pored over the Motoko account amendments. He hadn’t permitted her to do anything constructive, and from her sunken position she was unable to see the computer screen so she sat quietly, as if she was a schoolgirl waiting for her father to finish work.

  She desperately wanted to gain access to the company network, so she risked speaking without permission.

  “Master, I haven’t checked my e-mails. May I do some work in my office?”

  Shepard glanced at her, irritably.

  “No you may not. I’ll check them for you later.”

  “But Master,” she persisted. “If I don’t do any work soon, Brian will wonder what is going on.”

  Kristin had assumed that Shepard would try to maintain some sort of normalcy in front of Brian and the rest of the staff. She discovered she was badly mistaken.

  “I’m sure that Brian is already somewhat concerned at your strange behavior,” he remarked. “If you’re getting bored, then I’ll have to find something for you to do.”

  He pondered a moment.

  “Ah! I’ve got it. The new office junior, what’s her name?”

  Kristin hadn’t got a clue. She had never spoken to any of the office juniors.

  “Melissa, I think,” Shepard continued. “Go and ask if you can help her with anything.”

  Kristin blinked. She was vaguely aware of the girl in question, a seventeen year old trainee whose duties involved making coffee, filing, and sorting the mail.

  “Excuse me, Master?”

  “If you’re getting bored, see if she can find you something to do,” Shepard repeated impatiently.

  Kristin considered the implication. Here was another way to discredit her in front of the staff. The vice president asking a trainee if she could find something for her to do? She’d be the laughing stock!

  “Master, if I may, I’d prefer to check my e-mails.”

  “I already told you I will be taking care of them,” Shepard snapped.

  Kristin lowered her eyes.

  “Then I would rather stay here,” she said meekly.

  Shepard turned to face her and Kristin recoiled. He had been behaving in an almost fatherly way towards her so far today, but the memory of his assaults on her were very clear in her mind.

  “Look,” he said sternly. “You’re beginning to annoy me. I’ve got serious work to do here and I can’t have you interrupting all the time. Now this is an order. Go and find Melissa and ask if you can assist her today. And you will do whatever she asks you to do. Do
n’t try to be smart and wangle out of it because I will check up on you. Furthermore, if she doesn’t need any help, you will persist until she finds something for you. If not, you’ll be tasting the cane when we get home tonight.”

  Terrified of that eventuality, Kristin once again found herself trapped. It was pointless arguing, and so shoeless, dressed in her pleated miniskirt, fishnet stockings and wearing Shepard’s tie, she traipsed across the main office in search of the junior. If she had thought she was the object of everybody’s attention before, she was being openly scrutinized now. They must have thought she’d had a mental breakdown.

  She found the trainee standing in front of a row of filing cabinets.

  “Melissa, is it?” Kristin asked feebly.

  The young girl whirled around wide-eyed. She was slender, with red curly hair and a freckly nose.

  “Miss Hartman!” she exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

  Kristin had no idea how she was going to approach this. All she knew was that she had to do it.

  “I’ve got nothing to do and I wondered if there was anything I could help you with,” she blurted out.

  Melissa just stared at her. Kristin could see she was assessing the situation, waiting for the catch. This, after all, was the notorious Kristin Hartman standing before her and she obviously thought she was in some kind of trouble.

  “I… don’t understand,” Melissa said.

  “Are you busy?” Kristin asked hoarsely. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see some co-workers in a nearby cubicle observing them.

  Melissa was now taking in Kristin’s attire. Her eyes drifted down to Kristin’s exposed feet and then back up to her face.

  “Um… yeah,” she said. “Are you sure?’

  Kristin nodded and despite her best efforts, she felt herself blushing.

  “Well,” Melissa said cautiously. “I’ve got this filing to do, but I haven’t watered the plants yet. Would you like to do that?”

  Kristin wanted to yell at the stupid child. Of course I don’t want to do it!

  “Have you got anything else?” she asked, almost pleadingly.