In One Ear, by Rajah Dodger (c) 2006, 2009
ALL THE STORIES HERE ARE FICTION, UNLESS OTHERWISE NOTED. THIS SITE DOES NOT CONDONE UNDER AGE SEX OR CRIMINAL ACTS IN REAL LIFE. You must be 18 or over to read this story. This story is provided for entertainment purposes only. The author does not condone any sexual activity with persons under 18 in real life, and none of the characters in this story are under the age of 18.
"Hello?"
Silence. Then a wavering hiss with mumbling.
"Hello... who is this?" Kelly was a busy woman, and it annoyed her when she got phone calls with anything less than perfect clarity. There was a good deal of static on this line; she made out something that sounded like the name of her company and something that might have been her own name, but couldn't understand anything else. "Look, this is a bad connection, I think you should hang up and try again."
The connection clicked off and she hung up her own phone. A few minutes later, it rang again. She lifted the receiver to her ear. "Hello?"
This time the sound was faint -- so faint she had to listen hard to be sure it wasn't a dead line. It wasn't quite words, more like whispery breathing. And there was something odd about it; Kelly pressed the earpiece tightly against the side of her head to shut out her office sounds. The static made it hard to tell; was that a catch in the rhythm, or perhaps a wheeze?
Kelly caught herself suddenly and shoved the phone back into its cradle. Of all the stupid ways to get distracted. She'd heard of such things. Perverts. She attacked her work with a surge of righteous energy, and surprised herself at how much she was able to dispose of in a short time.
When the phone rang next, she glared at it and picked up the handset ready to give the caller a piece of her mind. Luckily she refrained, as this caller was her boss. She suspected that he had been hired for his looks or his friends; while he was tall and handsome, he repeatedly relied on Kelly's knowledge to make sure that the department was run successfully. She handled him with her usual cool efficiency, giving him all the answers he needed. At least she thought so until he called her back only a minute later.
But this caller wasn't her boss. Not unless he'd suddenly taken up heavy breathing mixed with static. She hung up quickly this time and considered turning the ringer off, but then she'd miss the calls she needed. Picking up the next file from her in-box, she got slowly into her usual working rhythm analyzing the case notes when the phone's ringing again interrupted her focus. She took the instrument up with a mixture of anger and hesitance, and held it cautiously to her ear. It was indeed the breather, louder this time so that she didn't have to strain to make it out through the fuzz. There was a sense of pace and rhythm in the sound, a regularity other than that of normal breathing patterns. And also an odd harshness... how would she describe it?
She slapped it down, angry with herself, and consciously loosened the muscles in her legs which had started to cramp. Why would she care how to describe it -- it was just a crank call from a freak who didn't belong in normal society. Busying herself in work helped dispel the sense of unease that remained after she hung up.
Over the next several hours Kelly received only legitimate calls -- business associates, salespeople, the dry cleaners and one fax machine wrong number. She escaped the confines of her office briefly for a staff meeting, but was reminded unpleasantly of her morning's events by the man sitting behind her breathing open-mouthed with a faint atonal rasp. Kelly normally worked through lunch at her desk, but when Tom from one of the other research groups invited her to join them for Mexican food she grabbed the opportunity to escape.
After lunch, having turned down the opportunity for margaritas, Kelly was her normal competent self again. She arrived at her desk to find her message light blinking a busy greeting. One callback from her boss about the upcoming board meeting, one from a board member needing directions, and one call from the salesman who wanted their company to buy into his motivational speaker program. It was his fourth call of the month despite her clear brush-offs; some people just wouldn't take no for an answer.
One more case file was disposed of before the usual after-lunch drowsiness hit. Coffee usually helped her get through those, and she stood to go get some when the phone rang again. The voice on the other end asked, "Kelly?" Not recognizing the voice, she asked "Yes, who is this?" but got no answer. No, that wasn't quite right -- there was some kind of sound on the other end through the fuzz and static, a pained panting that if she listened hard almost made intelligible words. She crossed her legs and squinted, as if that would help her make out the meaning.
"No!" She dropped the phone, then replaced it in its cradle and grimaced. Freaks and sex maniacs, she thought. The marvels of modern technology made it possible for them to feed their lewd behavior right into the hollow of her ear. She could just imagine what that man was doing with -
Kelly shook her head to clear it, then shook it again. This would never do. A quick trip to the ladies room to wash her face, a fresh cup of coffee and she would be ready to focus on work again. If only her boss didn't need her for that board meeting, then at least she could have put the phone on voicemail rollover. Her productivity suffered for the rest of the afternoon, but she managed to clear three more case files and confirm the video arrangements for the board meeting. If any of her colleagues found Kelly a little distant when they spoke to her on the phone, none commented on it.
Five o'clock came and went, but this wasn't a normal day when she could blithely leave based on the clock. Her last session discussing the board meeting with her boss didn't end until a quarter of six. She bundled all of the papers from here desktop into her briefcase and was halfway to her door when the phone rang. She looked at her watch, then the phone, considered the likelihood that her boss had one more thing on his mind, and went back to her desk.
The harsh breathing practically surrounded her head, mixed with the rising and falling static and whispery almost-words, a wet intrusive sounds that defiled her ear. Her body stiffened and she leaned her waist against the desk for support. She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it deciding to deny him the kind of response he probably wanted. Loser, that's what he was, probably sitting there in the dark, naked on his chair, calling women at random to get his sick thrills. She'd prove to him who the stronger one was. And what was that other sound in the background, anyway? She squeezed the phone turning her knuckles white with the intensity of her efforts, but the voice faded, the static died out slowly and she was finally left leaning against her desk listening to a dead line.
Kelly replaced the handset as if caging a dangerous animal, and almost ran for the office door and the safety of her car. Fighting traffic was a blessing -- it pushed away the vague and disturbing images that were trying to sneak into her mind.
Finally she was home, no messages blinking on the answering machine, tossing her briefcase across the living room as she headed for the bathroom shedding clothing along the way. A hot, viciously stinging shower was what she needed, and it was a good twenty minutes before she emerged, body reddened from the heat but feeling refreshed and clean for the first time in hours.
Her evening was uneventful. A light dinner was followed by quickly-forgotten television shows, and then she laid out her clothes and got ready for bed. Last of all she pulled up her laptop and re-checked her preparations and plans for the board meeting. Satisfied that everything was in place, she climbed into bed, turned out the lights and settled in for a good night's sleep. Best of all, the phone didn't ring once, except for a single wrong number somewhere in the middle of the night, static and a slow beeping that Kelly listened to befuddled until she realized it was a fax machine. She sleepily hung up and went back to her dreams.
***
Kelly walked briskly through the hallway, glancing at her watch. Of all days to oversleep, how could she have picked this one? She clutched her portfolio in tightly-clenched hands, her well-prepared notes and screen presentations giving her no comfort. She entered the conference room to find everyone already in their seats. Conversation ceased as she stepped to her chair, feeling the probing assessment of every person around the table. The look on her boss's face said everything she needed to know, and he spoke merely four words: "Get on with it."
He pushed his chair back from the conference table so Kelly could take the prominent speaking position. She stood with him at her back, spread her papers on the table in front of her, and shivered as she picked up the computer remote control. It was so cold in the conference room, she had goosebumps popping out along her bare arms.
Bare arms? Kelly's eyes flew wide as she looked down to check and realized she was naked in front of everyone. She wanted to run away, but all eyes were on her and she couldn't make her feet move. In desperation, she began to give her presentation. Not a single one of the men at the table said a word, they merely looked at her, cold stares in colder faces. Worse, as she got to the heart of her presentation she was surprised by hands sliding around her torso, cupping and stroking her breasts. It was her boss, his belt scraping into the small of her back, the material of his slacks brushing against her legs. He twisted her body left and right, putting her betraying nipple points on display to all. The men at the table acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, and Kelly had no choice but to continue her speech.
Her boss abandoned her breasts, but only to slide down her flat stomach and pull her labia apart. His fingers traced the moistening pink of her exposed sex, and Kelly saw the lifting of eyebrows around the table as they all saw the arousal she felt.
Only the sound of her voice speaking kept her half sane. This couldn't be happening, her brain said, but the effects of the fingers moving inside her and the familiar heaviness of her swelling breasts insisted otherwise. The words on the paper blurred as her boss's hand sawed in and out, fingers twisting inside her. She finally gave up all pretense at coherence and fell forward onto the table, her breasts squashing outward on contact with the cool wood. She spread her hands to either side, and just then her boss pulled almost completely out leaving her hanging, awash in frustration and need, her buttocks wriggling on the edge of the table.
"Say Please"
His fingertip wriggled inside her. She panted in heat. She'd never be able to show her face in this building again. She lifted her eyes and saw leering faces, some licking their lips. The finger slid outward, stopping just at her entrance. She gasped, closed her eyes, fought off tears, reluctantly gave her needs voice.
"Please."
"Please what?"
"PLEASE FUCK ME DAMMIT!"
His finger vanished but was almost immediately replaced with the probe of his cock, fat knob opening her wide as his length forced its way between the weight of her body and the unyielding surface of the conference table. He fucked her without conversation, the slap-slap-slap of their bodies the only sound in the room. His hands dug harshly into her sides as he used her like a piece of office equipment. Yet every thrust and stroke made her that much more needy, her breath gusting in loud panting rasps. Only when he bucked and flooded her insides was she finally able to reach her own peak, shivering in the throes of a soul-consuming orgasm.
She felt her boss withdraw his cock, wipe it in the crease of her bottom. She lifted her bleary eyes and saw the men at the table stand as if applauding the performance, each one showing a swaying erection, black, white, brown. Kelly dropped her eyes to the table, humiliated beyond belief but arching her back and spreading her legs in anticipation.
*** *** ***
The alarm clock buzzed its shrill alert, insisting that a full eight hours had passed. Kelly certainly didn't feel like it, yawning and stretching to get the last of the sleep out of her eyes. She had vague recollections of busy dreams, and felt anything but rested. Her breasts felt tender, as if they'd been rubbed with sandpaper, and her calves ached. Worse, when she did manage to get out of bed and start getting dressed, the suit she had chosen the night before didn't fit right. She rummaged through her closet frantically before finding a dress she could wear, not terribly businesslike and clinging to her body with too much static, but clean and of a reasonable color. At least the traffic chose this morning to cooperate, giving her plenty of time to set up the conference room after she checked her email and organized her desktop.
The conference room was immaculate, from the elegant Continental pastry and fruit tray to the gleaming expanse of teak that made up the central table. Kelly bent over the cables to run a quick test of the system for the call-in participants, sliding on the headphones to better judge the audio quality. She punched the button for the autodial to the server, but what she got in her headphones was line noise. Static. Shifting, garbled, gelatinous pieces of words. Her mouth dropped in shock as the assault continued, wet slapping sounds over words that eluded her understanding but brought twisting shapes slithering perversely into her brain.
Staring sightlessly she shook her head side to side, unable to escape the human/animal sounds echoing inside her. She showed no reaction as the door to the conference room opened admitting her boss accompanied by a shorter man carrying a briefcase. The shorter man pushed her forward and she bent obediently onto the table, her eyes turned inward, allowing her dress to be lifted and her panties removed. Her boss dropped his trousers and the sounds of sex soon echoed loudly off the hardwood walls.
Eventually the conference room was quiet again. The two men pulled Kelly from the conference table, cleaned and re-dressed her, and led her to a chair near the audio control panel. Her boss was the first to speak.
"Amazing. And she won't even wonder why she's not wearing panties?"
"Not quite. She'll wonder, then her own mind will find a way to explain it away. That's the beauty of the low-level conditioning technique; it works best with smart creative minds. She'll be the same competent assistant you've had for three years, but now she'll be a *very* personal assistant." The smaller man slid Kelly's panties and a permanent marker across the table. "Sign these, please. They make my best references."
Kelly sat still sightless, upright, resembling a mannequin. Her boss signed his name as if signing a check and handed the garment over. Patting Kelly's hair into place, he nodded approvingly. "If the meeting goes smoothly and I don't see any side effects, you've got a deal. I'll call you to install her control phrases and I'll have the full hundred thousand wired to your account." A smile crossed his face, but not a pleasant one. "She's always thought she was smarter and better than me. It's too bad you can't arrange to let her know that she's just my playtoy now. I'd really have enjoyed watching her squirm. You're sure that's not a feature you offer?"
The other man tapped something into a PDA and inspected Kelly's eyes. "Don't get greedy. She's guaranteed not to undercut you with upper management, and she'll do anything sexual you tell her that doesn't involve injury. From what they tell me, crossing the line separating volitional from programmed psyche always creates an unstable personality. She'd either run out naked into the street or slit your throat with a letter opener. Just be thankful she was so snotty to me when I first called -- I could have offered our special services to her instead. Think about that some night."
He removed the headphones from Kelly's head and pressed his PDA to her ear for a minute, then packed his things and her panties away and closed the briefcase. "She'll be in normal mode in five minutes. That gives you plenty of time to get back to your office. I'll expect to hear from you later." With that, the salesman walked out. There was always a customer, he reflected, it was just a matter of getting the right word into the right ear.
Four and a half minutes later, Kelly blinked her eyes and looked around the conference room. The clock on the wall made her gasp -- she'd apparently dozed off for a half hour. She squirmed in her seat, wishing she'd remembered to do her laundry; finding out she had no clean underwear had been a shock this morning, and the feel of her dress sliding against her bare bottom was going to be a constant distraction.
Focusing on work helped her mostly ignore the way her thighs rubbed together, and she set to making sure all of the materials and electronics were ready for the board meeting. By the time her boss walked in -- at the last moment, of course -- everything was well in hand and the meeting proceeded to go like clockwork. If Kelly was at times a little fidgety, or caught herself glancing down to see how she was dressed, it wasn't so much that anyone would notice. Unless, like her boss, they were looking for it.
The meeting at its conclusion, Kelly began the process of organizing the minutes and putting the conference room in order. Several of the board members stopped to compliment her boss on his organization; naturally he took all the credit. She gave a mental shrug -- let him have his little ego boost. Kelly knew where the real power was. She sorted papers into folders and the trash, the picture of corporate efficiency, on top of everything her company needed.
And after one more phone call she would be everything her boss needed or wanted as well.
/ END /