Kristin's Demotion

by Lorenzo Marks

  The first days of Spring bring sunshine but the air remains cool. She is trotting around the back yard, keeping her knees up and her back straight. She is wearing a leather bridle which holds a rubber bit between her teeth and a colored feather plume flies above her head. Her naked breasts flop about crazily as she circles around Master. A leather harness bites deep into her crotch and her elbows are strapped to her hips. Around and around she goes, feeling the cruel sting of Master’s cane whenever she slows down, or fails to get her knees up high enough. She snorts through her nose, her lungs burn, her bare feet ache. She has been trotting for an hour, only another two to go…

  She waits anxiously in the reception area, dressed in a pink t-shirt, white hot pants and knee-high leather boots. She is aware that Angela is surveying her with a kind of detached pity. When Mr. Ziegler arrives, she jumps up to greet him, her breasts jiggling invitingly under her shirt. Ziegler is a tall bull-necked man with wide shoulders and a shaved head. Inwardly, she is terrified of what he will do to her.

  Ziegler regards her with a toothy smile and she escorts him through the office to meet Master. Everyone is watching as Ziegler puts his hand on her ass and gently guides her past the cubicles. In Master’s office, she serves coffee and cake while the two men discuss business. Once upon a time she would have paid attention to their conversation, but the corporate world is no longer her domain. She deliberately wiggles her ass as she walks, hoping that Ziegler likes what he sees, and judging by his lecherous grin, she thinks he does.

  Some way into the meeting, Master nods, and without hesitation, she pulls the shirt over her head and drops it to the floor. She leans forward, pouring their coffee and Ziegler’s Adam’s apple performs a little dance as he gazes upon her naked, dangling breasts. A half hour later, Master and Ziegler shake hands. Master looks at her and she slips out of the hot pants and faces them, now clad only in the boots.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Master says, “I’ll go have the contracts drawn up. It should only take an hour. Pumpkin will see to anything you need while you’re waiting.”

  Master leaves the room and Ziegler says, “Pumpkin. What a delightful name. Come over here.”

  He pulls her onto his lap and begins to fondle her breasts. He tweaks her nipples erect and she feels his manhood rising between her legs…

  The hours dragged past and the images kept scrolling before her, each one reviving deep-seated feelings of shame and self-disgust. The sun dropped, the bedroom grew dark, and Kristin waited quietly for Master to return home.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  It had been a long and exhausting morning which had begun, as usual, with Miles in the store room. Unlike Brian - and sometimes George - Miles never took a rain check.

  In the past few months he had been transformed from a shy computer geek into an insatiable sexual predator. He never grew tired of mounting her in the hot confines of their little love nest. It never lasted very long, but for Kristin it remained a sickening and degrading experience. She estimated that she must have copulated with him over a hundred times now, making them as intimate as any married couple.

  After servicing Miles, she had gone to see Brian. It was still early but a good number of the staff were already in. Kristin had walked past them quickly, avoiding eye contact if possible, and answering the occasional ‘Good morning, Pumpkin,’ with a quiet ‘Good morning, Sir,’ or ‘Madam’.

  She’d entered Brian’s office, and placed a fresh bouquet of flowers on his desk. Brian had arrived a few minutes later and she had thrown her arms around him and kissed him passionately. This had become such a routine that Brian had come to expect it every day. She was now his little plaything, a welcome diversion from the tedium of his marriage and he never seemed to get tired of her affections. He wasn’t as obsessed about sexual gratification as Miles, and often, if Kristin was lucky, they would just kiss and cuddle on the couch.

  This morning however, Brian had been in the mood to celebrate. The Motoko account renewal, in addition to the new Ziegler Corporation contract, meant that OFS was out of the financial woods. The future suddenly looked rosy and Brian Waterman was a very happy man.

  It hadn’t taken long for their petting session to heat up and before she knew it, Kristin had been naked from the waist down, straddling her employer on his couch. She’d already been a little sore from her session with Miles but with effort, she’d managed to make herself wet and had then ridden the old man with simulated delight.

  After that, because Master was out of the office, she had fussed around the rest of the staff, badgering them for something to do. Eventually, Deborah Francis had given her some print-outs to shred and Kristin figured if she drew it out, she could make it last until it was time to go downstairs for George’s blowjob.

  She was lost in her own little world, watching the sheets of paper disappear into the teeth of the machine when she heard Brian’s voice behind her.

  “Um, Kristin. Do you have a moment?”

  She turned around and saw that he was flanked by two men wearing dark suits and somber expressions.

  “Miss Kristin Hartman?” one of them said.

  She was about to inform them that her name was Pumpkin, but the pale look on Brian’s face stopped her and she merely nodded.

  “My name is Agent Cameron and this is Agent White. We’re from the FBI’s Economic Espionage Unit and we’d like a few moments of your time.”

  A dim knot of dread twisted in her stomach as the man showed her his badge. As if a curtain had suddenly been drawn back, Kristin realized what this was about. This was it, the thing she had been so desperate to avoid and yet, she had become so confused of late, that she was still having trouble digesting the situation.

  “Maybe somewhere private,” Agent Cameron continued, aware that they had become the object of everyone’s attention. “Your office, perhaps?”

  “Kristin doesn’t have her own office anymore,” Brian interjected. “Please feel free to use mine.”

  Kristin followed them back to Brian’ office and sat on the sofa where she had recently had intercourse with him.

  “Mr. Waterman, we won’t be requiring your presence, although we will be interviewing you when we’re done with Miss Hartman,” Agent Cameron said.

  “Very well,” Brian replied cautiously. “If there’s anything you need, I’ll be outside.”

  After Brian had gone, Agent Cameron opened his attaché case and pulled out a file. Kristin did a mental check to make sure she was presenting herself correctly. Although these men weren’t clients, she was under orders to give a good impression at all times. The gray halter top posed no problem, it was tight against her braless boobs and she had already caught Agent White furtively examining her nipples. She leaned back in her chair, allowing her leather mini skirt to ride a little further up her thighs. That’s better, she thought. They both noticed that.

  “Miss Hartman,” Agent Cameron said. “I understand from Mr. Waterman that you are no longer the vice president of OFS Software. Something to do with health issues?”

  “I’m the ‘Junior Hospitality Girl’,” she replied meekly.

  The two agents exchanged glances.

  “The situation that we are concerned with,” Cameron went on, “goes back to November before last when you were on the sales team…’’

  As Cameron began to detail the events surrounding the ABACUS enhancements, Kristin tuned out, only half listening to his discourse. Something peculiar was happening to her. She felt as if she were standing on the other side of the room watching herself. Little by little, names and numbers came surging back to her.

  “… ZifCom whose accounting software, VIRGO…”

  The fog that had enveloped Kristin’s head for the past few months was slowly receding. She knew all of this stuff! She had merely pushed it away into a fuzzy part of her mind.

  “…US Attorney’s Office Computer Hacking and Intellectual Property unit…”

  S
uddenly, Kristin experienced a sense of clarity that she had not known for months. They had come to arrest her! All bets were off! All of her sacrifices, the rapes and humiliations, had been for nothing!

  “…whose code name is ‘Closeau’. Miss Hartman?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Your correspondence with the man who calls himself Closeau, Miss Hartman. I should warn you in advance that there is no point in your denying any of this. The Attorney’s Office has spent months building a watertight case.”

  It was then that Kristin burst into tears.

  “It’s not fair! I did everything you asked!”

  The two agents looked at her in confusion.

  “Pumpkin has been a good girl!” she wailed. “Pumpkin did what she was told!”

  “Miss Hartman, are you okay?” asked Cameron.

  Agent White produced a handkerchief and passed it to her. After she had calmed down somewhat, Kristin asked, “Am I going to jail?”

  Cameron took a deep breath and put his hands together.

  “Ordinarily you would - and I personally think you should - but fortunately for you, this case is a whole lot bigger than your intellectual property theft, Miss Hartman.”

  Dabbing her eyes, Kristin said, “I don’t understand.”

  “Let me clarify a little,” said Cameron. “Closeau is part of a highly sophisticated organization which crosses international boundaries and uses state-of-the-art equipment. In official terminology, it’s known as an ‘information broker’ and this particular one is responsible for the loss of billions of dollars to the U.S. economy. Your crime is only a very small part of that.”

  Cameron paused to see if Kristin was keeping up. In fact, as if she had suddenly flipped an internal switch, she was.

  “Of far greater importance to the government,” Cameron went on, “are the military and defense contractors’ secrets that Closeau has obtained and sold on to foreign bidders. This whole thing has become a matter of major importance to the NSA. In short, due to a mixture of legal and political considerations, we are offering you a deal, Miss Hartman.”

  “A deal?”

  “You will be prosecuted, but the U.S. Attorney’s Office is prepared to waive jail time in return for your testimony.”

  Kristin nodded slowly. Her brain was reassembling itself fast.

  “Your contact, Closeau, is now in our custody,” Cameron concluded. “But that’s just the beginning. We want to break the entire network and we need witnesses to make sure all the bases are covered. We have been in contact with a lot of people in your situation, Miss Hartman, and I can assure you that every one of them has accepted our offer.”

  “And all I have to do is testify?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “No jail time?”

  “None. There is the matter of financial compensation for your competitor, which I intend to take up with Mr. Waterman.”

  “Will everyone know about it?”

  “If you mean, is this going to be a media circus? No. We are keen to keep the details as low profile as possible. Especially the defense issues.”

  “So I get my life back?”

  Cameron again glanced at his colleague, a little puzzled.

  “As far as we are concerned, Miss Hartman, providing you cooperate fully with us, your life can carry on as it is.”

  Carry on as it is? thought Kristin, almost hysterically. You have no idea what my life has been like! I’m free! I don’t have to worry about going to jail. Even my parents don’t have to know about this! No more Master! No more sexual servitude! No more punishments! No more humiliations! No more Pumpkin!

  At that point, much to agent Cameron’s shock and surprise, Kristin jumped up, and without warning, kissed him on the lips.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  With nowhere to live, and unable to face her friends, Kristin moved back into her old room at her parent’s house. It was not a comfortable arrangement. Her father hardly spoke to her and her mother and sister seemed to treat her as if she was in some way unwell. They simply couldn’t understand how she had managed to lose her well-paid position, her apartment, her car, and all of her savings.

  She started taking long walks in the woods to escape the awkward atmosphere in the house, during which she dwelled upon what she was going to do. Her first reaction was to have everyone who had abused her charged with rape, but the more she considered this, the more she realized that it was not going to happen. Even protected by privacy laws, her story of sexual slavery had a very high chance of becoming public knowledge. Naturally, she hadn’t told her family about her ‘deal’ with Shepard. That would have been too much for her sensitive mother to bear and who knew how her father would have reacted?

  So her desire for revenge was far outweighed by the thought of her ordeal making the news. As it stood now, her reputation had only been damaged in certain areas. Her friends and family looked upon her with thinly disguised distaste because they believed she had moved in with Shepard out of her own free will. As bad as that made her feel, now that they knew she had left him, it would in time, be seen as an aberration, a blip that could be repaired. Far better that, than to allow them all to hear the sordid details of the past few months.

  Then there was the question of salvaging her career. It appeared that the FBI were going to arrange an equitable out-of-court settlement with ZifCom, which they would have no choice other than to accept. The fact that Kristin had been relieved of her position meant that the company could plausibly distance itself from the scandal to a degree. In short, OFS would survive.

  Meanwhile, Brian had suggested she take some paid leave until she figured out what she was going to do. One thing she knew for certain, she could never set foot in that office again. Shepard had turned her into the company joke. Most of her co-workers believed she had lost her mind. Then there were her daily trysts with Brian, Miles and George - not to mention a number of impromptu washroom sessions with Roger Levine and young Andy Hollis. There was no way she could have kept such prolific sexual activity secret. She had become the office slut, and that could never be undone. They would always remember, even if they knew she was acting under duress. The knowing looks, the suggestive smiles, how could she possibly endure that?

  Then there was Shepard himself. After she had finished talking to the two federal agents, Kristin had surprised herself by going straight to his office. Even though she was finally free of his grip, she was shaking when she’d opened his door. He must have known it was all over because he’d just looked at her and waited. She had thought that she was going to make a scene but oddly, she had merely told him that she was going home. He hadn’t replied, just nodded his head sadly, and she’d left. That was it.

  Kristin spent her time off avoiding her family as much as possible whilst reacclimatizing to her new-found freedom. She wore jeans and baggy sweaters and flat shoes, and yes, always a bra. She watched television, walked the dogs, and put some weight back on.

  Her transition back to normalcy was not a smooth one however. There were, in the beginning, some minor snags. She was finding it difficult to adjust to eating at a table using a knife and fork again - as opposed to eating straight off the floor. And she consistently turned down her sister’s frequent requests to accompany her to the mall or the country club. The thought of large crowds suddenly terrified her and apart from her solitary rambles in the meadow behind the house, she didn’t want to go out anywhere.

  She also discovered that she was not quite the same person she used to be. She was thinking disturbing thoughts. On one occasion, she found herself standing naked in front of her bedroom mirror, giving herself peculiar instructions, ordering herself to touch her toes, stand on tiptoe, run on the spot, while her nipples grew hard and her crotch damp. She also masturbated nightly, which was something she had hardly ever done before her ordeal. After reaching orgasm, she would be overcome with shame and cry herself to sleep.

  The
most alarming modification to her personality however, was the ceaseless presence of Master who was not, in her mind, Shepard. Master was with her always, looking over her shoulder wherever she went. Often, she would turn suddenly, half-expecting him to be standing there. She lingered under a murky cloud of foreboding, believing she could be raped or beaten at any time.

  Yet, she also caught herself worrying about him.

  Who will provide his meals? Clean his house? Satisfy his endless sexual urges? Will he get another slave? Her fretting would then give way to sudden rage: Fuck him! He hurt you. He took everything away. He should go to jail. Followed by guilt: But he was only punishing Pumpkin because she did wrong. Master knows what’s best for Pumpkin. Master takes care of her. Master clothes and feeds her…round and round went the chattering little voices in her head.

  On a Friday, Brian called to inquire how she was doing but there was an intimacy in his voice that panicked her. As soon as she’d hung up, she called Charles. When he answered with a simple ‘hello’, she knew he had deleted her number.

  “Charles… it’s Kristin.”

  There was a silence at the other end.

  “Hello? Charles?”

  Kristin realized that her hand was shaking.

  “Kristin,” Charles said cautiously. “How are you?”

  His voice was characteristically even, but she detected a hint of emotion there.