Kristin remained on her knees, staring at the door. She was still in a state of shock at the sudden change that had occurred in the previously-timid programmer. Although he hadn’t really hurt her, there was something sinister in the way he had changed. Unlike with Brian, who would undoubtedly become besotted with her, there was something about this latest nauseating relationship that scared her. Shepard had created a monster, and she was his unwilling victim.
Her immediate challenge however, was in getting back to the safety of Master’s office without too many people spotting her.
Master? There it is again. He’s not your master! Get a grip, girl!
Opting for speed, Kristin dashed up the stairs and across the open-planned office as quickly as she could. She slammed Shepard’s door closed behind her only to discover that he wasn’t there. The thimblette inside her was uncomfortable and itchy but she was afraid to remove it in case Shepard had arranged the whole episode in the store room.
At first she puzzled over what to do next and then she remembered the planner. She clicked the mouse and read: Clean the men’s bathroom: floor, mirrors and urinal. Put on the uniform in the bag and get the cleaning materials from the janitor’s closet in the lobby. Be done by four as we’re leaving early.
Kristin groaned inwardly. This wouldn’t physically hurt but it would serve as further evidence that she was losing her sanity. She had already been seen watering the plants and helping the office junior, now she was being reduced to cleaning toilets!
What bag?
Kristin looked around and saw that Shepard had left a plastic shopping bag behind the desk. She picked it up and pulled out a blue and white striped tunic. It wasn’t very long and to her dismay she discovered that there was no skirt, just a tiny pair of lace panties. There was also a transparent plastic cap to complete the ensemble.
Again, Kristin engaged in the internal wrestling match that took place whenever Shepard plunged her to new depths. Should she wait until he returned to plead with him? Would it do any good? Of course it wouldn’t. In fact, it would probably result in a punishment which would incur pain or even more extreme humiliation.
She looked at the clock. It was half-past two. She had no idea if Shepard intended to inspect her work, but if she was going to get it done, she couldn’t hang around.
She slipped out of the mini-dress, feeling the rubber thimblette moving awkwardly inside her. She pulled on the sheer panties somewhat gratefully, and then slipped into the tunic. There were only three buttons at the front which afforded a clear view of her cleavage, but worse, the hemline only reached the tops of her thighs. Looking down, Kristin realized that the white panties would be visible, front and back. Finally, she pulled on the plastic cap, tucking her hair inside.
Shepard hadn’t mentioned shoes, so barefoot once again, Kristin took a deep breath and opened the door. She didn’t run this time - there was no point. Her face turning crimson, she looked straight ahead as she walked towards the reception, trying to ignore the laughter her appearance provoked. She had no idea how absurd she looked, but she could guess. The thimblette was causing her to walk in a mincing kind of way, and as a final insult, when she reached the exit, somebody whistled.
In reception, Angela made no comment this time, which told Kristin that either Brian had sent out a memo telling them to humor her, or worse, she was now at everyone’s mercy.
Shuddering at the thought, Kristin made her way out to the lobby. The janitor’s closet was situated behind George’s desk, the fact of which Shepard was obviously well aware.
Apprehensively, Kristin approached the old man who she once routinely mocked. Having twice ejaculated into her mouth, he most certainly held the upper hand now, and his leering expression suggested he knew it well.
“Hello, Pumpkin,” he said cheerfully, as his twinkling eyes dropped to her uncovered panties. “What a nice uniform. How may I help you?”
Flushing furiously at the demeaning way he had addressed her. Kristin stammered, “I… um… I need to get some things from the closet.”
George raised his eyebrows.
“Doing some cleaning are we? Good for you! But I’m afraid it’s the janitor’s day off today. Could you come back again tomorrow?”
Kristin’s heart skipped a beat. She had to get the washroom cleaned before four o’clock! It hadn’t occurred to her that the closet would be locked. Why would it have? She had never been concerned with such trivial matters before.
“Oh… but I… I really must… I need to, today…”
Feeling stupid beyond words, she struggled to hold back the tears. The front doors opened, bringing a blast of icy air against her bare legs, and a young couple returning from lunch stared at her in surprise before going inside.
“Well look,” said George, running his tongue over his lip. “I might have a spare key somewhere, but I really shouldn’t be allowing unauthorized personnel in there.”
For God’s sake! thought Kristin. It’s just a closet!
“Maybe if you could do me a favor, I might be able to locate it.”
Kristin’s stomach twisted. Favor?
“Kind of like the stuff we did last night,” George prompted.
Kristin’s shoulders slumped. Of course, she should have seen that coming. Another set-up. What did it matter? She had no secrets from the old guy now. What mattered was getting that washroom cleaned before her time was up.
“When?” she asked quietly.
“Right now, of course. In the closet.”
Kristin nodded meekly.
“And after that, every lunchtime,” George added.
“What…?” Kristin uttered.
“Every day at one o’clock, you’ll report to me. Unless you want me to complain to Henry.”
“George, please no…”
“Suit yourself,” George said, turning to his magazine.
Kristin shifted uncomfortably. Another co-worker came in and gave her the once-over. Her toes were getting cold and the clock was ticking.
“Alright.”
George looked up. “What was that?”
“Every day at one.”
Kristin’s voice had lost all inflection.
George closed his magazine and picked up his keys.
“Come on, then.”
The closet was small and there was little room between the shelves. George made Kristin remove the tunic and he played with her breasts for a while before pushing her to her knees and making her pull out his penis. This she did without complaint, merely wanting to get it over with. She worked her mouth over him passionately, trying to get him to come quickly, but each time she felt his balls tightening, he pushed her head away and simply held his cock against her lips until he had calmed down. Three times, she had to get him to the point of coming before he finally lost control and exploded into her throat. Kristin swallowed it all, her only thoughts on getting back upstairs.
The dirty deed done, Kristin collected the cleaning materials she thought she would need and headed back to the main office. She couldn’t even look George in the eye as he bade her goodbye until the next time.
Drawing more incredulous looks and barely restrained laughter, Kristin rushed across the office and disappeared into the men’s washroom. Breathing heavily, she closed the door and leaned on it. Only when she had settled down somewhat, did the moral question of what she was being made to do, come to mind. A woman cleaning the men’s room during office hours? These were grounds for sexual harassment. And even though Shepard knew she would never press charges, what about the rest of them? Why hadn’t any of the women come forward? Surely they could see what was happening to her? Once again, Kristin had to conclude that either they were all in on it, or they really all believed she had gone mad.
The hopelessness of it all suddenly hit her and a tear rolled down her cheek. She turned towards the mirror to wipe it away and her jaw dropped. Facing her was a pretty young woman in a tiny tunic and
cap, her white underwear on display. But it was her face, she now realized, that had been the cause of most of the merriment outside. In her torment, she had completely forgotten about Miles marking her.
On each cheek, he had drawn a smiley face, which was humiliating enough, but it was the word he had printed across her forehead that sent her into despair. Even though she had to read it backwards in the mirror, Kristin could see that she had been labeled with a name - Pumpkin.
Instinctively she rubbed at it, but to no avail. She tried washing her face with soap, rubbing until her face was pink, but still it remained there. With a sigh, she realized that Miles must have had used indelible ink which would take days to fade away. Giving up her attempts, Kristin glanced at her wrist, forgetting that Shepard no longer permitted her to wear a watch. She figured she had less than an hour to clean the place up. In fact, as she looked around, she saw that the bathroom was almost spotless. The company employed a nighttime cleaning crew so there wasn’t really much for her to do. But she remembered her instructions: floor, mirror, urinal, so she would have to take care of them at least.
Making sure the door was locked, Kristin poured some floor detergent into a bucket, mixed in some water and then dropped onto her knees and started to scrub.
As she worked, the details of her ever worsening predicament kept forcing their way to the front of her mind. She presumed that a few people either knew or suspected that Shepard was controlling her, but the rest just assumed that she’d had a mental breakdown. Brian was turning a blind eye to her ridiculous behavior, initially because he valued her contribution to the company, but now with the added incentive that he truly believed she was sexually attracted to him. Whatever anyone chose to think, one thing was clear - she was now the laughing stock of the company.
Which brought her to the next aspect of her nightmare. Little by little, Shepard was transforming her into the company whore. She was already committed to meeting Miles in the store room at the start of the day, after which Shepard would most likely have her visit Brian’s office, and then she still had her one o’clock appointment with George in the janitor’s closet. Three different men a day, every day of the week! And she still had to keep Master - no, Shepard! - satisfied in the evenings. But what was really distressing her was the way her body was beginning to react to all this heightened sexual activity. Try as she might to resist, she was becoming physically highly responsive, and that shamed her more than anything else.
Kristin was busily attacking a stubborn piece of dirt in the grouting when she heard someone try the door handle. She froze, scrubbing brush in hand and held her breath. There was a rattle of keys, a click of the lock, and the door swung open. Mortified, Kristin put her head down and listened to the footsteps approaching on the tiles.
“Hello, what have we here?” came the unmistakably supercilious voice of Roger Levine.
Kristin could smell the polish on his immaculate shoes again. At first she couldn’t understand why he was standing so close. Then it dawned upon her that she was keeling next to the men’s urinal.
Oh God! she thought. He’s going to pee!
“I didn’t know we’d hired a new cleaner.”
Levine put his hand under her chin, gently turned her face towards him, and an amused grin appeared on his thin lips.
“Such a pretty one, too. ‘Pumpkin’. What a cute name.”
Her heart thumping, eyes brimming, and her already raw cheeks turning even redder, Kristin could only look up into his eyes. What was he going to do?
Levine released her face and turned towards the urinal. Unzipping his pants he said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I really do have to go.”
Kristin quickly looked downward as she listened to the sound of his piss spraying against the porcelain. She desperately wanted to run, but her body remained locked in place.
What if Shepard has sent him in here? she thought. What if Levine is going to report back to him?
While her mind was whirling with indecision, a wet splash on her face brought her back to reality. She jerked back on her knees and looked up only to see the dirty bastard was pointing his dick in her direction. A dribble of yellow piss hit her on the chin and ran down to her cleavage. Terrified at the thought that Shepard may have arranged this, Kristin remained where she was.
“Oh, sorry,” Levine chuckled.
He looked down at her curiously.
On her knees, steam rising from her wet, shiny face, Kristin simply watched as his penis slowly grew hard. She was unable to let out even a sob as she watched it swell and lengthen in front of her face.
“I’ve often wondered about this,” Levine said throatily.
Defeated, and inwardly wailing with hopelessness, Kristin leaned forward and took Roger Levine’s musky cock into her mouth.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Henry and Brian sat opposite each other, an open laptop and piles of print-outs spread on the coffee table between them.
“Well,” said Brian. “That’s decided then. I think this calls for a little celebration. Drink?”
“Please,” said Henry. “Whatever you’re having.”
Henry watched as Brian went to the mini-bar. The old bugger certainly had a new spring in his step. And why not? Kristin had been servicing him every morning for the past three days. Henry had been secretly watching their sessions of course, although there wasn’t anything particularly spicy to record. The old man was just grateful to be receiving the attentions of this young and beautiful woman. This morning, he had taken her from behind over his desk. No foreplay, he’d just pulled her panties to one side and within five minutes he was done. Then came the kissing and canoodling on the couch where Brian would tell Kristin how much he understood her problems and that he would always be there for her. Henry grinned wryly. Poor fool had no idea that his appointments with Kristin were sandwiched in between two others with Miles and George.
When Henry had found out about those he was delighted because he hadn’t specifically instructed her to have sex with either of them. He had merely set the ball rolling in both cases and allowed events to develop by themselves. Clearly, Kristin was becoming so paranoid, she was afraid to resist anybody’s demands now.
Despite Kristin’s best efforts to keep things discreet, the office grapevine was buzzing with her escapades. Her yelps of pleasure drifting up from the store room, her affair with the boss, her daily rendezvous with George, her increasingly sluttish attire, and her absurd and degrading chores around the building were the focal point of all conversation.
And now, in spite of his fondness for her, Brian had finally decided that things had gone too far. He simply couldn’t afford to have this ditsy girl as his company vice president any longer. Which was why he had just offered the position to Henry.
They touched glasses.
“To my new vice president,” said Brian.
“To salvaging the Motoko account,” replied Henry.
“I hear that,” Brian said dubiously.
“Relax. It’s under control.”
“I agree that the revised package looks fundamentally sound. It’s Yamada I’m worried about. We’ve lost his confidence and I seriously doubt we can restore it. You know how the Japanese are.”
Indeed I do, Henry thought. And I have just the remedy for our Mr. Yamada.
“I really believe that once we’ve completed our presentation on Monday, we’ll be firmly back in favor,” he said.
“I do hope so.”
Brian rubbed his chin and looked at his drink thoughtfully.
“Regarding your promotion. There’s still one thing bothering me…”
“What are you going to do with Kristin?” Henry asked, reading his thoughts.
Brian nodded gravely.
I’m sure you’re concerned, Henry mused. You don’t want to lose your pretty young mistress now, do you?
“I don’t think you’ll find that to be a problem. Actually I’ve already d
iscussed it with her.”
“You have? She’s never mentioned it to me when…”
Brian caught himself in time and fell silent.
“I told you before that Kristin agrees she’s been under too much pressure in the past,” Henry said. “But she really wants to stay on at OFS. In confidence, I really should tell you that she said she desperately wants to remain working specifically for you.”
“Really?”
Henry detected a little flicker of vanity in the old man’s eyes.
“So much so, that she actually came up with a new job description that she’d like to fill, which won’t be too taxing on her - shall we say - somewhat diminished mental capacities.”
“Oh? And what is this new position?” Brain asked curiously.
“Well, why don’t we let Kristin tell you herself?” Henry said.
He buzzed through and a moment later Kristin entered the room. She was wearing a tight powder blue sweater and a short pink poodle skirt. On her feet were lacy white ankle stockings and pink four-inch pumps. With her hair in bangs to complete the picture, she could easily have passed for a sixteen year old girl. The only things that didn’t quite fit were the two smiley faces and the word ‘Pumpkin’ which were still slightly visible on her cheeks and forehead.
Henry suppressed a little chuckle. Everyone was starting to call her Pumpkin now.
Brian’s jaw dropped. When he’d fucked Kristin that morning she’d been wearing a crisp white blouse and navy blue pencil skirt. What he didn’t know was that Henry had instructed her to change outfits while he was in the meeting.
“Kristin,” Brian spluttered. “Please come and take a seat.”
He looked a little uncomfortable. This was the first time they had all been together since he had started fucking her.
Kristin inched around the coffee table and perched herself on the edge of the sofa, facing the two men. She kept her knees primly together which amused Henry considering how sexually intimate she was with the both of them.
“May I get you a drink, dear?” Brian asked her.
Kristin hesitated but then caught Henry’s eye and said, “A gin tonic please.”
Kristin's Demotion Page 19
