A Penny Saved

by Sèphera Girón

  Rough hands grabbed her breasts as yet another cock ferociously slammed into her. The women were using strap-ons and on a lonely night it would have been nice but after the warmth of live cock, it was cold disappointment. After the cocks came the fingers and fists. Pushing and pumping, teasing her clit, fingering her pussy, fucking her asshole.

  Cocks replaced the hands and this time were crammed into her ass. She cried out, and more lube was added, cocks sliding in and out of her for some time more.

  Her thirst and exhaustion began to take hold. She couldn’t suck on the cocks protruding through the hole. She couldn’t come anymore and resigned herself to letting them fuck her, as she was bound tight, had signed that contract, and no one would hear her scream a safe word anyways as another cock was plunged through the hole.

  A sound rang in her head. Drumming. Low thumping drumming at a different pace than whoever the people penetrating her now were keeping. She thought of the voodoo queen, of the snakes, how the winged man had flown her away.

  At last, there was no more pounding in her pussy and ass. Warm liquid gushed on her throbbing tits that were likely copper-coloured globes from the tightness of the ropes that bound them. Warmth surged across her nipples as the men came on her tits, her stomach, her pussy. Her feet.

  Quietly, the guests left. Master unlocked the box around her head. As he untied her, he rubbed her aching flesh to bring circulation back. She hung her head, exhausted, exhilarated.

  “That will be it for tonight. You will need your rest. We have to return to the office.”

  She nodded as she slid herself from the table and sat in a chair for a moment. A servant came in with a tray of steaming towels and wiped her down. She watched as Master left the room whistling.

  The warm washing was soothing and she closed her eyes.

  She sat at her desk, her arms and legs itching furiously where the pennies were wedged beneath her skin. She was dressed in a long black dress with long sleeves trimmed with ruffles and a long velvet shawl draped on top in case any blood leaked through. She returned her focus to her work, ignoring the burning prickle of the pennies.

  As she typed in the notes from her file, a cold chill passed through her although she was dressed in too many layers. She pulled her shawl tighter, her pennies throbbing, heat from them sprawling through the chill with every beat of her heart. Sweat beaded her forehead. She looked at her coworkers but they continued to type.

  Cora noticed a penny just out of the corner of her eye on her desk. She stared at it, certain it hadn’t been there before. She replayed her morning movements in her head. She had shuffled the files around a thousand times—how could a penny just be sitting there on top?

  She attempted to ignore the penny and returned to inputting the numbers. As she reached for her coffee, she glanced over at the penny and nearly dropped her mug as she saw there were now two.

  She nodded.

  I’d been right all along. These pennies are planted. But by whom? She looked around the office area and up at the ceiling. There were wires, no suggestions of ways the pennies could have been soundlessly dropped while she worked. The girls were at their desks, typing steadily, computer screens blinking with endless numbers being entered.

  She watched them type, click-click-click. Vera was a quick typist while Connie was a slower one. There was a lot of hunting and pecking going on from an older woman and several of the young ones were speeding along as if it were a race. Soon all the clicking got on her nerves. Just when she thought she was going to scream “shut up” to stop all the clacking, Connie stopped typing and looked over at her.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” She giggled. “Oh, right. There are no more pennies. Okay, a loonie.”

  “Oh, nothing,” Cora said. She imagined Connie in a leather cat suit. Connie was not a young nor a pretty woman, and in fact very overweight. But sometimes those bodies looked great in PVC cat suits. Cora licked her lips.

  “Those wheels are turning, something’s up,” Connie said smugly.

  “I was dreaming of world domination. That’s all,” Cora said with a lilt in her voice.

  “Don’t we all,” Connie said. “But in the meantime, you know”—she pointed up towards the security cameras—“we all work for the man.”

  “Yes, we most certainly do,” Cora said.

  Connie turned back to her desk and her typing rhythm returned to the cacophony of clicks.

  Cora returned her attention to her own work, but for a moment. She fiddled with her files, and avoided looking over at the other girls any further. She grinned as she thought about world domination. Was it even possible these days? The world was so divided there was no king of the world. But how cool would it be to be king of something. Ruling over something.

  She picked up the two pennies. They were warm to the touch, and she slipped them down her bra.

  As she typed, a shadow loomed over her desk. She looked up to see Hazel there with an armful of files. Hazel’s eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. She was her usual cold self although her voice had a small catch to it.

  “You’ve been assigned the Warshicker Campaign,” Hazel announced.

  “Pardon me?” Cora asked, staring at the pile of paperwork in Hazel’s arms that would have dwarfed any regular-sized woman.

  “You heard me. For whatever reasons, the president has deemed you the only one qualified to take it on. So here it is.” Hazel bit her lip as if she had plenty more to say on the matter but had decided against it. Sharks always circled before they attacked, Cora knew.

  Hazel plunked the teetering stacks of files onto her desk.

  “I’ll give the work you’ve been doing for me to one of your peers. Please get it together and bring it to my office later.”

  Cora nodded.

  “If you get over your head, well, just let the president know and I’m sure he’ll be happy to send it back my way.” Hazel’s countenance was showing toughness but the quake in her voice betrayed her hurt at relinquishing the account.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Cora said in a dismissive tone.

  Cora stared as Hazel teetered off in her blue spikey shoes that matched her new black blue-tipped spikey hair. Cora shrugged off Hazel’s vibes and flipped through the files. They weren’t nearly as intimidating as she feared. In fact, many of them contained recommendations she had suggested over various meals when she and Henry weren’t involved in their sex games.

  For many hours, long after the others had left, she looked through the files both on her desk and in the private company account online that had more files.

  Once she had skimmed through most of the material, she was ready to begin her first real juicy assignment of her working life. How old was she again? How many years had she been slugging away? How furious had she been when Hazel swooped in and killed promotion hope for anyone else in the office? Now things were changing for her. Cora couldn’t believe her good fortune.

  Cora clicked and tapped out sketches of ideas. She was so excited it seemed more like a puzzle game than work. She pored over the reports for hours and stayed so late that she said good-night to the day staff and hello to the night shift security who came in to check on her. Soon it was day again and as the office hummed around her, she stayed focused on her new files. Hazel had her doubts about Cora’s abilities, that much was clear. But the last laugh was on Hazel. Cora had been waiting for this type of opportunity, this type of account, for years. And now here it was, right here between her fingers. She itched from her pennies and typed as furiously as possible until at last, she was ready to leave.

  When she returned home that night, she added the pennies to the growing lines of pennies along her arms and legs.

  She rubbed her hands along the welts, pressing in on them enough to make herself wince with pain.

  She looked out the apartment window. The limo from Master hadn’t a
rrived yet. She was half anticipating and half dreading what that night’s adventures would bring.

  She arrived into darkness. The room was lit with the soft glow of blue electric candles adorning the walls and ceilings. She was walking into starlight, walking in space.

  She put down her suitcase with a grin and stared up.

  A servant arrived with a tray. On it were several rolled joints and a few lines of cocaine. She took the silver straw from the tray and snorted a line up each nostril. She grabbed one of the joints and stood jiggling while the servant lit it.

  She inhaled the pot and blew it out, spinning around staring up at the lights. How clear and bright one minute, swimming into each other the next.

  She stopped spinning and sat on one of the couches, still smoking her joint. The servant had disappeared with her suitcase and returned with a bourbon on the rocks and a glass of water.

  “Thank you.” Cora sighed. She lay back on the couch. She really could enjoy this life. Master wasn’t due home for another hour and she didn’t have to lift a finger until he arrived. It was going to be a great Friday night.

  She lay back, staring at the lights, watching the circles of smoke rise slowly up into them and then were lost. The servant came in.

  “Your listening pleasure, madam?”

  “What do you have?”

  “The master has a vast collection.”

  She stared up at the lights. “Some Floyd. Dark Side of the Moon. Yeah…”

  She settled back in, letting the heartbeat on the album wash over her. The servant quietly left the tray with more prepared lines of coke on the table beside her. The clock ticked as voices spoke.

  She reached over and snorted some more just as the song peaked into “Breathe”.

  “Oh, yeah…baby…” She smiled as the familiar guitar riffs filled the room.

  She nodded in time to the music, trying to decide between more coke or dope when a movement in the corner of the room caught her eye. She plucked a joint and lighter from the tray and weaved her way over to what gleamed. The eyes of the demon in the painting glared out at her.

  “Oh my,” she said as she put the joint to her mouth. She took a drag and puffed it out into the demon’s face. “Poor you…stuck in there. For now.”

  Cora turned from the demon and laughed. She sang along to the music and lost herself in thought.

  When she looked next at the painting, the demon was gone.

  She barely had time to blink when he was right in front of her.

  “Have you had enough of your little S&M fun? Are you ready for some more soulful playing?”

  “I thought I was…”

  “Him? Oh but he is only human, such as yourself. There are better sights to see. You know it.”

  He tossed a penny onto the floor. She stared at it. The pennies inside of her arms itched.

  “You know what to do. Follow them… You know you want to…”

  “But—”

  He swooped off, leaving pennies in his wake.

  She retrieved her razor from a tin in her purse. As she crawled along the floor, collecting each penny, she cut a slice into her arm and pushed it in. By the time she reached the hall where the demon had vanished, there was a trail of blood on the floor, her fingers slippery as she hung on to the blade, slicing and pushing, two rows of new pennies.

  She ran her hand along her mottled arm and imagined herself as a snake, an alligator, a voodoo queen of New Orleans.

  The idea of it set new adrenaline rushing through her and she was snorting another line of blow when the door opened and Master walked in.

  The sight of him in business attire drove her wild and she finished huffing her line and stood facing him, unsuccessfully wiping powder from her nose.

  “Enjoying the Floyd?” he asked as he walked over to the stereo and turned it down a notch or two. He grinned as he went over to his bar and poured himself a martini.

  “Was the maid good to you?” he asked.

  “Most definitely,” she said.

  Master stared at the blood dripping from her body. He looked along the floor at the smears and drops.

  “He’s been here,” Master said.

  “Yes,” Cora said.

  “What did he say?” Master asked.

  “I-I…don’t remember…” Cora said.

  “Nonsense. You remember but you won’t tell. That’s fine. I’ll discover the truth soon enough.” His manner was cold but his actions didn’t show anger. In fact, he trembled as he disrobed.

  A ball gag was wedged into her mouth and buckled at the back. Master snapped a leather collar around her neck and added a short linked chain to it. He roughly jerked her neck and led her into the dungeon.

  He had her stand still while he went over to the speaker counsel and played Dark Side of the Moon.

  “This can be our album, honey,” he sneered. He lifted a heavy coil of rope from one of the hooks on the wall where many different types of ropes and chains hung. He wound the rope around her chest, wrapping each breast individually, licking her nipples as the blood rushed up. When her breasts were bound, he led her to a board where he told her to lie down. She scooted onto the board.

  Slowly he wound rope around each of her wrists, stopping to pinch her nipples or her nose while he worked. When he came to her leg, he bent it up like a frog’s so that her pussy was spread wide open. He wrapped rope around the leg to fix it into place and anchored her to the board. He did the same with the other. When he was finished, she felt like a science experiment about to be dissected.

  He clipped clamps to her erect nipples. She shuddered as the pinch gripped her.

  Master gathered up a few instruments and stood at her crotch. He spread open her pussy lips.

  “My, aren’t you pretty inside,” he said, letting them close again. He fastened her labia with clothespins so that her clit was exposed. He took a feather from his table of tools and traced it along her pussy lips, her legs and just outside of her trembling clit. He circled and danced the feather near her clit but never letting it touch.

  So immersed in his teasing he didn’t notice the demon materialize beside him. The room was suddenly hotter, and as Master shook his head to keep the dripping sweat from pouring into his eyes, he spotted the demon.

  “What do you want?” Master stammered, stopping the tease.

  “You know what I want; you’re taking too long,” the demon spat, his wings flapping, the warm, fetid air a comforting coolant as she lay bound between the two men.

  “This one is special…” Master said softly.

  “Yes, she is, so do what you need to do, but remember, my patience has worn thin,” the demon said, his eyes flashing. His tail whipped around and a sharp slap was heard as it lashed deeply across Master’s back.

  “I will,” Master promised, wincing in pain. As he turned to watch the demon leave, Cora saw a huge welt in the shape of the point of the demon’s tail embedded across Master’s back.

  The demon disappeared. Master returned to her.

  “Now where were we?” he asked. She didn’t answer. He stared at her, at her spread open pussy. He touched her clit lightly, tapping it with his fingers. He pushed his fingers inside her and pressed against her G-spot.

  She moaned against the ball gag.

  His fingers, his hand, his arm were wet when he withdrew them.

  He stroked himself back to hardness while slapping and pinching her breasts. Cora’s stomach churned as she wondered what Master and the demon had been talking about, and if she should be enjoying the pleasure/pain Master’s practiced fingers played on her body. By the time he entered her, she had forgotten about the demon, his hard, fast thrusts causing her to reach another level of excitement. He held her ropes, her arms, her waist, as he pummelled her. Sweat dripped from his brow, his lips trembled, and he continued to
stare into her eyes, as if she held the secrets to the next level of pleasure. He pulled out and pushed into her ass. He groaned and came, twitching and clutching her, pushing as deep as he could go. She cried out. He was so deep up her ass, she was pinned and could only wait for him to withdraw.

  “I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Hazel shouted across the boardroom at Cora. Cora said nothing, a stone face staring with no emotion at all.

  “She’s lying.” Hazel pointed. Around her sat the staff, the girls from the office, the president, Henry and three other CEOs.

  “The file appears to be in order,” the president said, snapping it shut. “You may clear out your desk. Security will escort you out.”

  Hazel’s face was pale as she stared at Cora. “You…will pay.”

  Cora said nothing.

  Security was waiting outside of the door by the time they had gathered their files together and left the room. Briefcases snapped shut. Cell phones were turned back on. Cora left the room, staying carefully away from the sobbing Hazel, and Pete the security guard who had the sad task of escorting her out.

  As Cora made her way back to her desk, she realized she had forgotten one of her folders in the boardroom. The president and Henry were still in the room, deep in discussion.

  “Cora, come here a minute.” The president waved her over. “We’ve been discussing for a while now how much you’ve grown since you’ve entered the company. We’d like to give you your own office and a raise.”

  “Doing what?” Cora asked looking at Henry.

  “You’ll be senior manager of operations. You will take Hazel’s job.”

  “I will?”

  “Be ready for training tomorrow. And you’ll have to dress a bit more…business appropriate,” the president said as he studied her simple polyester dress.

  “In fact”—he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet—“let me help you get started. Here’s one thousand dollars, plus I’m writing a check for another four. I’ll put it down as your clothes budget. Buy yourself a suit and several blouses. And decent shoes for goodness’ sake. Understood?”