Molesting Ms. Cullum Ch. 01

It was a trifle risky during the working day, but the technician thought he would be able to extract his hand pretty quickly if someone came through the door of her private office. Probably, he thought, people would knock first. As he had noticed, right from when she first joined the firm more than a year ago, and then had thought about for months, Miranda Cullum's breasts were full, but now he could feel just how full. Warm under his wriggling fingers; her nipple both un-extended and soft twixt those fingers. He had one of her breasts cupped in his hand and had been fondling for quite a time. She was seated, and he was behind her with his hand down inside her shirt. Did he dare extract his erection and slide it against her soft neck and cheek; did he dare go rather further than he already had? Perhaps not - the risk really was too great.

He watched, over her shoulder, the timer counting down on the laptop's screen. The first stage of the program allowed him five minutes play. He would then see if it had all worked as per the plan. It was essential, so important, that Miranda Cullum remembered nothing this first time. If all was well the program would kick in again later in the afternoon and she would stay working long after her colleagues had gone home - well, apart from one technician!

All being well, her head would then be bobbing up and down on his cock, unable to go home until she had his seed in her belly. Future days, as the program developed its control, would provide him with more - so much more.

Temptation became too much, and the technician undid his fly. Lifting her shirt from behind he slipped his raging erection under her brassiere strap and up between her shoulder blades. The strap was tight, stretched by his hand in one of the cups at the front. He could barely find room for his penis to poke up and through but there it was, firmly held. A vigorous thrusting of his hips, the brassiere strap holding his penis tightly and virtually unmoving against her skin. It was an intimacy her boyfriend had probably never thought of doing. The technician revelled in the tightness, the feel of his erection strapped to her skin. His penis unmoving against her warm flesh, his fraenum pressed against her; the tightness of the strap holding him but the mobility of his penile skin allowing some restricted movement.

The technician watched the timer, it would not be long now... it could not be long now, there was less than a minute to go. He needed to come and come quickly or remove himself and tuck her shirt back in (and his still rigid and unspent penis in his trousers). His hand squeezed the full breast, so soft, ample and warm in his hand.

The release happened at - 35 seconds. Gobs of semen issuing from the end of his penis all between her shoulder blades at -34, -32, -29, -25 and -20 seconds, splashing up and inside her shirt. Too short a time really, but there was very little time left. He pulled, almost hurting himself in the process and had to release his hand from out of her brassiere to lift her strap to allow himself to escape the imprisonment. Imprisoned by a brassiere strap! It was -10 seconds, there was no time for niceties about not getting semen on her strap, let alone her shirt. He had a hand to extract from a brassiere and a shirt.

The timer clicked down to zero, "Well, I think you will find it's all working fine now but call me if you need anything else. If it's not working properly then turning it off and then on again often helps." He was tucking himself away as he spoke, his erect, dribbling penis momentarily still out behind her.

Miranda Cullum half turned to Kelvin Smith and flashed her smile as thanks and then forgot him. That was nothing to do with the program. To her he was simply a technician.

Kelvin looked back at her as he closed the door, his shrinking penis damp with semen in his boxers, the metal fly of his jeans not actually pulled up, she was already typing at the laptop and staring at her screen.

In the lift Kelvin noticed the unzipped fly to his jeans. Back in the room Miranda Cullum was wondering what that sticky, wet feeling was between her shoulder blades and then strangely forgot all about it.

The technician worked late. He always did. There was nothing to go home to, after all. A meagre bedsit in a lodging house. Single bed, chest of drawers, wardrobe and a desk. The bathroom and lavatory were shared though he did have a 'Baby Belling' to cook on in his room. There was his computer, of course, but there were better machines at work. Machines he knew all about and maintained. He could do more on them than the one at home. He could write code on them as well and it was code he had written for Miranda Cullum as well as sorting out her PC problems. Code that had so clearly and demonstrably worked. He was elated.

At 19:05 precisely the technician reached towards the telephone and, as he did so, it rang. He had not in some sixth sense way known that it would ring but had been pretty confident, following the earlier perfect demonstration of his program, that it would. Miranda's instruction had been clear. Her computer would have told her to ring him at 19:05; would have reminded her at 18:50 and 19:00; would have told her to do various other things.

The open plan area outside Miranda's office was deserted. The normal bustle of activity had halted. The technician knew the cleaners did not come in the evening but the very early morning. There would be no one to disturb what would happen inside the room.

He knocked and heard her say "come." It was exactly as the program had instructed, the very word chosen by him, he had many times thought how nice it would be for her to say that to him, to command him and for him to, indeed, come. He had thought many times of her holding his penis in her hand, stroking it and requiring him to ejaculate when she said so, emptying himself into the palm of her other hand. The technician loved the idea of her looking at the creamy pool and then tasting its warmth with her tongue. It was a particularly erotic image to him, but that, and other images of semen on skin, were not for that particular evening. Instead he wanted to see his penis in her mouth, her suckling on its rounded end, her lips working to extract his cum. The image of her efficient, business-like but so pleasing face with a cock, his cock, between her lips was one he longed to see. She would walk out of the building, her high heels clicking across the marble reception area past old Bill Sands and out into the night with his semen in her belly. Another night it would be somewhere else.

"Ah, err, Kelvin isn't it. I called down to you techies because my PC still isn't right."

She turned back to her computer screen and Kelvin could see how the back of her white shirt seemed to be starched around the small of her back, it seemed as if the skin was somehow stuck to the shirt material. He wondered if anyone else had noticed and what they had thought.

Kelvin leaned in over her, "No? What isn't working?"

As programmed, as he had programmed the computer and therefore Miranda, he felt a tug on the zip of his jeans. A techie likes to have his tools at the ready. He typed on her keyboard and he felt her little hand enter his jeans, felt it feel around and then extract his penis, bringing it out into the open.

"Ms. Cullum, what isn't working?"

But she seemed to have lost interest in her computer and its screen and was instead staring at the thing in her hand. Of course, Kelvin had erected. Miranda had pulled back his foreskin, just so slowly, gradually revealing the head to herself, just as the program had told her to do, and was just staring at the swollen pink knob, the fingers of her little hand curled around the shaft perhaps an inch below the head.

"It's a penis," she whispered almost to herself, "an erect penis."

They were, of course, the exact words he had programmed, but it was good to hear them from Miranda's lips and hear the note of wonder in her voice.

"It's real isn't it, a real tool?"

"Your computer, Ms. Cullum, what is wrong with it?"

"There are balls too aren't there?" She was fishing again. "Oh yes, I can feel. Can I see?"

Fingers curling around and fondling inside his jeans and then hands to his belt and the brass button to his jeans, a tug and he sprang out into the open, jeans and pants around his knees.

"Wow!"

She was open mouthed, just as he had programmed. The open mouth suggestive of cock sucking. There was, of course, a reason for that. It would be what she would do.

"It's so big!"

Kelvin smiled. He had written those words.

"I never imagined... so big."

Ms. Miranda Cullum was hardly a shy, blushing schoolgirl who had never seen an erect penis before (but wanted to). She was not that at all. She was twenty-six, no doubt sexually experienced and seemingly with a regular boyfriend. She was a fully qualified and practising accountant. Kelvin, though, liked the idea of innocence and wonder. Perhaps she had her old school uniform tucked away in a cupboard. He would like to get her to bring that into work and wear it after hours.

It was a joy, the way she was staring at his genitalia, examining it, turning it this way and that.

"I don't think it would fit, too chunky!"

Kelvin had liked that word, 'chunky,' he had written it into the program with relish.

"Perhaps another day. We can try."

"Oooh, yes. I'd like that. Can I suck it now? Does it do what it's meant to do? I mean, how much stuff comes out, will it be too much for me? Should I see first by making it cum by hand?"

Her hand moved in an overly enthusiastic way as if she really did not know what she was doing.

"You can suck, it'll be OK, Ms. Cullum."

"Oh, goody!"

So much girlish enthusiasm. Kelvin had written the program really well, he thought. It was not like the serious Ms. Cullum people normally saw. The smile on her face, her wide opened eyes. She even licked her lips, perhaps to make them suppler or more slippery but it looked more as if it was relishing what she was about to do.

Of course, people tended to have a work persona and a personal one. Kelvin did not know how she was with her boyfriend, but he doubted she ever exhibited quite the girlish enthusiasm for anything compared to how he had programmed her for that evening.

That morning he had come right there down her back but that was nothing to watching Ms. Cullum's approaching lips, seeing them opening and then the feel of their soft wetness on his penis head. The touch tentative at first and then over his knob, not the whole way, as he could see the dark purple band of the very edge of his 'helmet.' The deep 'mmmm' was a pleasure to hear - it was in line with his requirement, the program's requirement, for her to relish the cock sucking.

A movement forward from her and more disappeared into her mouth. She was, it seemed to Kelvin, as if she was suckling upon it. As if it was a great big nipple. He had rather expected her to suck it most of the way down her throat. Perhaps, though, that was what he would relish rather than her! Perhaps just holding little more than the bulb in her mouth was more pleasurable for her.

He had not really expected the mobility of her mouth and lips or the effect of her tongue. Despite her words she was, no doubt, experienced at sucking: Kelvin, for his part, had seen plentiful pictures and video footage of cock sucking but had no experience at all. Not the merest lick from a girl - or boy for that matter. It did it for him far too quickly. His semen came again, up his penis and into her mouth. Lovely, wonderful but rather sooner than he had wanted. He could not help himself.

The long drawn out 'Mmmmm' from Ms. Cullum vibrated all down his penis as he pulsed into her mouth. Too soon but just so good. Not just the feeling, the softness of her lips around his cock, the tongue moving as he came but the sight of his cock in her mouth and knowing just what he was doing inside it! Just all too short a feeling.

"Mmmm, that was good." It was out of her mouth and between her fingers as she looked at it. Kelvin was looking too and not at the computer screen. "Mmmm, yummy big plum! I wish it'd do that all again." She squeezed it with her fingers making a little more semen come out. "Mmmm, nice." And, rather noisily, she slurped it back into her mouth.

Kelvin's penis was extra sensitive, post ejaculation sensitive, the touch of her lips and mouth almost painful - but so sexual.

The program even had her pulling his pants and trousers up and tucking him away. As the brass zipper was zipped up, Kelvin spoke, "I think your PC is OK now."

"Thank you so much, um, Kelvin isn't it? So kind of you. Just what I needed. I wish I could offer you something in return, but I don't have a penis, I can't cum like you do."

"No, of course not..." He was momentarily taken aback. He had not written those words.

In his bed that night Kelvin thought about that. He had seen Futanari pictures, made up images. He imagined Ms. Cullum in high heels and nothing else sporting a perfect curving erection, even balls dangling but, importantly, hidden just behind her balls a proper feminine vagina. The so efficient, so capable, so poised Ms. Cullum having a secret 'down below.' A secret very much out in the open for him. Would he like her like that? Would he like taking her from behind and holding her cock and wanking her as he pushed into her - wanking her just like he was wanking his own cock in the bed? Perhaps he should program her to buy a strap on and surprise that boyfriend of hers! Would he like her with a penis?

Ms. Cullum did not spare Kelvin a glance the next day as her shoes went clickety clack across the marble reception floor. In her hand a briefcase, across her shoulder a tan coloured Mulberry hand bag, her hair neatly tied back and her blue framed glasses looking straight at the lift. She was wearing a dark blue striped business suit, well-tailored and fitting, the skirt's hem fractionally above her knee. Kelvin smiled, he had seen Alan Peters from Accounts looking at her, but only he knew she would not be wearing panties under that skirt. The program had been quite specific in its instruction.

He had waited in Reception to see her arrive. He wanted to relish what would happen later on that day and indeed what had happened the day before. There was work to be done on the Reception computers in any case, all three of them.

It was at 11am precisely the telephone rang. Kelvin knew who it would be.

"Something seems to be going wrong with my sexual organs. You can fix computers, but can you perhaps fix..."

"I'll take a look."

Wonderful to be going up to her floor in the lift and knowing what he was about to see. He knocked at Ms. Cullum's door. She had a mass of papers in front of her and her laptop screen.

"They're under the desk."

Where else! It had long been Kelvin's fantasy to be in the kneehole of Ms. Cullum's desk. She was important enough to have a really big desk. It was old and mahogany and really made for two people facing each other. There was ample room for Kelvin to crawl into and gaze up Ms. Cullum's skirt.

"I'm making a visual inspection."

"Please do what you have to do but don't talk. I've a very important telephone call to make. I'm leaking so much I'm worried it'll show through my skirt. Please sort it out, do whatever you have to do but be quiet and stop the leaking."

He had brought a torch for the inspection. Kelvin could see up her skirt under the desk when he first went under, but not as well as when he clicked on the light. There, clearly illuminated, was Ms. Cullum's private parts, knicker less and clearly rather wet. Her thighs were well spread, she was very much giving him access for his inspection.

A risk, of course, for a lowly techie to be under a senior person's desk engaged in rather clandestine sexual activity but the program was working well, and he knew Ms. Cullum could be blistering if interrupted during an important phone call. Her desk was substantial. He would not be seen under it by a visitor. He was tucked away, out of sight with Ms. Cullum's genitalia.

Kelvin moved forwards, so he had his head inside her skirt as he inspected. Of course, he had seen many and varied examples on the Internet but not a woman's pudenda for real. Kelvin was naturally shy, he immersed himself in his techie world and his technological talk as a defence, a barrier. His approach to sex was in character. He had written a program, a hypnosis, mind control program which achieved very much the same thing as a chat up and a developing romantic relationship: only it was a techie way of doing it. It cut out all the unnecessary interpersonal relationship stuff and got down to the technical basics. Kelvin wished to couple his male organ with a female one of the right type; he wished the coupling to be tight so there would be no leakage when fluid was passed; he wanted the flow of fluid to be efficient and regular and, naturally, he wished to examine the schematic before attempting it for real. He was now examining the female schematic: he already knew the male one. Fellatio fitted into his plans as did rubbing himself against the woman. He also had a bit of a thing about urination. Childish he knew. He enjoyed having a wee. He intended Ms. Cullum to show him how she weed too. They would be weeing together. They would be weeing on each other. And there in the light of his torch was the little hole by which Ms. Cullum passed urine. He could see that and very much else besides.

It was so interesting. So very different from male genitalia. All very functional really. Various bits and pieces all with a purpose, some with very base purposes.

Ms. Cullum was a redhead. It was one of the things that had particularly attracted her to him and for him to settle on her as his first test subject. There were plentiful other women and girls in the building and already he was thinking of Diane Hope as his next experimentee. Not at all a redhead, indeed her hair was dark, and she had skin to match. But that was for another day, when he had exhausted his ideas with Ms. Cullum.

She was a redhead and the red was not simply the application of henna. Kelvin could see the evidence inside her skirt. Plentiful red curls ran all over her mons veneris and down either side of her sex along the protective labia major. He knew all the terms and the arrangement. He had looked them up and absorbed the detail. The rather mounded outer lips which Kelvin appreciated closed over the delicate inner flesh of her sex except when her thighs were apart. They were apart now!

Delicate indeed. Her inner lips looked so soft. Little flaps of skin, protective too, framing what was inside. With his torch he could see so clearly how the divide of her mons, a little valley, came down and then from it rose a little promontory of flesh, the clitoral hood and down below it was, he presumed, Ms. Cullum's clitoris, a little shiny knob or button. Below that a small opening, her urethral opening, seemingly a little bigger than his own and below that... yes, below that, the so interesting entrance to her body. He had rather expected to see it as a real opening, a tubular entrance allowing his torch to shine up into it quite a way. A dark, damp tunnel to explore. Instead it seemed closed but undoubtedly that was her vagina. Kelvin wondered how many erect penises had travelled up it. He wondered what else had been pushed in there? Dildos, bananas, cucumbers, hair brush handles? He smiled: he would ask, and Ms. Cullum would tell. Perhaps he might program her to want to try different things, ask him to bring things for her to try - and he insert. It would be a pleasant evening trying things out, perhaps photographing her and eventually putting his own flesh into her.