Year One Pt. 05

The librarian that was there last week wasn't around. Instead there was quite a young girl looking after the place. She gave me a smile as I came in. I'm not used to that sort of thing these days.

I settled down in one corner of the library and picked a few books off the shelves. The place was empty apart from me. The girl behind the counter obviously didn't have enough to do. After about ten minutes she came over and sat on the desk beside me. "Hi," she said, "I'm Jess."

"Err, David," I responded, not sure how to react. Quite apart from the unusual friendliness, I'm not used to having a nineteen or so year old girl wander up to me and start a conversation. Still less when she 's wearing a skirt quite as short as the one of Jess's brown check pinafore dress. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"Yes. My first job out of library school. I guess this is as good as anywhere to learn how it all works. And it seems like a nice village."

I found her easy to talk to. "Yes. It's got an interesting history too. That's what I'm working on..." (I'd thought about that as being something I could legitimately claim to need to spend time in the library for.)

"Yeah, it's really quiet though. What does anyone do for fun around here?"

"Well there's always the pub..."

She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not sure that's really my sort of place."

I shrugged. "I'm not sure there's much else."

She was about to reply when an old lady came in looking for help. I took the opportunity to get back to my studies. I didn't want to attract more attention than I absolutely had to. I didn't find anything that would help with the job applications though.

Friday 18^th March

I got six replies back to the job applications I sent in last week. All of them said "Thanks but no thanks." One of them added, "In the light of the remarks of your previous employer, we do not believe it would be worth your while applying for future posts here." That pissed me off. What had Lucy said, I wondered, and how was I supposed to get another job if she was giving me a reference that said I was unemployable?

I went back into the library, half hoping to see Jess in order to cheer myself up. She was there again and gave me another friendly smile. Today's outfit was very un-librarian like, a short black dress with a low neck line and long rather puffy sleeves. I must have been giving her a look that wouldn't fit in with the New Order respect agenda because she gave a giggle and said, "Do you like it? I'm going to a party this evening and I won't have time to change."

I said it was lovely and hoped she had a great time. She asked why I didn't go along too And it was only after I said, "Well, there's the curfew..." that she said, "Oops! I'd forgotten about that. Shame. It might have been fun."

Then I said, "You shouldn't really wear that at work. Aren't you worried about it getting dusty from all these books?" This turned out to be really stupid.

"I could take it off," she grinned reaching round the back to where the dress was zipped up.

"No, no, I didn't mean that."

"Oh, sorry," she said, "Have you got one of those thingies on? That would be a shame. You're about the only man under eighty that's come in here." She reached forward to my crotch. I practically leapt back as she grabbed me.

"No, its not that. I mean what are you thinking? Anyone could come in..."

"I can lock the door. It's always quiet at this time."

"Look, I really can't." Suddenly I thought of a good get out. "I mean, not without checking with my sponsor.."

"You're a spoilsport David," she said with a pout. "Have a word with your sponsor so maybe we can play next time you're down here."

She let me carry on with my studies after that but the wave and the wink that she gave me when I finally went left me in no doubt that I wasn't going to escape her attentions for long.

When I got back home Jill was in the living room with her mother. I didn't think it was the ideal time to raise the question of whether I was allowed to start boffing Jess. Jill was standing there in a pair of old jeans and a baggy sweater. Sally was the complete opposite in a tailored suit, silk blouse and sheer hose. In spite of their very different looks, the two of them had a very similar tone when it came to me.

"I suppose you haven't found anything in the way of work?"

"Have you any ideas on how you are going to start contributing to the household again?"

"Can we assume that you haven't? Well, we have."

I suppose this was what I had been worrying about but I didn't -- as they guessed -- have any way to head it off.

"I need someone to help out around the house," Sally went on. "Just basic domestic stuff. I've tried getting my husband to do it but frankly its more trouble than its worth and it would take me longer to punish his incompetence than it would to do the work myself. Jill tells me you keep the place reasonably tidy here so you can come over and do a couple of hours for me each day. I'll pay the basic male wage, of course but it will go straight to Jill of course as your contribution. Agreed? Good! Start on Monday."

With that she got to her feet, kissed her daughter and left.

"There," Jill said, "I told you we'd sort something out. You can spend the weekend getting this place clean though."

Monday March 21st

So, today I started off working for Jill's mother over at her house. Firstly, it's enormous. There must be eight bedrooms, there's a pool and a gym, a big living room that opens out onto the garden, a kitchen that's almost the size of my flat and lots of other utility and service rooms. It was as much as I could do to remember where all the things were as she showed me around.

"There's a schedule for all this," Sally said. "In a folder, top shelf of the cupboard in the utility room. Don't play around with it. I like things done in the order that's set out. Plus there's two others working here, so if you start getting creative no one will know what is going on. Finish a job, tick it off on the schedule. Understand?"

I nodded.

Sally smiled. "Good." And then after a pause. "Well, you'd better get started. If you think I'm going to stride up and down with a riding crop supervising, I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. I've got better things to do." And with that she left me.

The schedule said that the kitchen needed to be cleaned and tidied that morning so I got on with it. It was all pretty boring. About all that could be said for it was that the house was a pleasant place to be and the work meant Jill had stopped complaining.

Sally came back to check on how I was doing. I guess she was happy enough as she didn't tell me to do anything again, so that was a plus. She looked at her watch. "I've got some friends turning up in ten minutes. Can you fix a tray with some tea and coffee and bring it through to the lounge. There will be five of us all together.

One good thing about Sally is that she might be bossy but she's well organised, so as long as I keep my wits about me I think I'll be OK.

Anyway I fixed the tea things and a jug of coffee found a some biscuits and spread them out on a plate and then discovered a trolley that I could put it all on to wheel it into the lounge. I'd heard the doorbell go and the sound of chatter and I suppose I had assumed it was some friends of Sally from the golf club. Well, when I got in with the trolley I recognised two of them. Sat in a large armchair and looking about as well upholstered as the chair itself was Claire Dobell-Bull. I'd seen her on TV. She'd been one of the founders of New Order and had a reputation as a hard-liner when it came to positive discrimination in favour of women. I think someone said she had coined the term "Shit Male Dominated Decision Making" when the party had first discussed what was wrong with the government of the day. Dobell-Bull was sat back looking as though she'd be quite happy to stay there the rest of the day. She was wearing tweedy clothes, looking like a rather bulkier version of your typical country horse woman, and sucking on an unlit cigar -- I guess an attempt to cut down. The other person I recognised was Nina Henning -- Angie's boss. The other three had the look of successful, professional women. One of them was talking while I was in there, saying something about how the detention service was benefiting from private expertise and how she hoped that her firm would be able to support future developments in government policy.

Of course they didn't want me hanging around, so as soon as I had set things on the table Sally said, "Thank you, David." I took that as a polite way of saying "fuck off" and turned to go.

As I left the room-I heard someone say, "New house boy?" and someone else say "New house toy, more like"

One thing I've noticed about the whole "Respect Agenda" thing is, it only goes one way.

Thursday March 24^th

It's been a busy week but at least I seem to have been able to keep Sally happy and that has kept Jill happy too.

The trouble is that I'm not sure how long I can put up with all this though. The more it goes on the more I think about just getting out and trying to get somewhere out of the whole New Order sphere of influence. Trouble is I'm not sure where. Anywhere on the European mainland would do it but France is probably the best bet. The last conversation I had with Harry didn't help.

Monday March 28^h

Sally had me run an errand into Stanbury today and I put my head around the door of the cafe on the off-chance of meeting Harry. He wasn't there but the guy behind the counter said he would tell Harry that I was around. We bumped into each other at the bus station. I told him about my working for Sally Guest and the meeting Dobell-Bull and Henning were at. He seemed to think that might be interesting for Cara. "She's always looking for any inside stuff on the political process," he said.

I said I'd try to keep my eyes open.

I told Harry I was still thinking about ditching my sponsor. He said, "My tip? Don't," which I didn't think was very helpful.

I was heading back to the bus stop. It was quite crowded on the street. There were a load of other blokes in front of me. Then the crowd ahead seemed to be parting some stepping out into the road, others pressing back against the shops on the side. As the ones immediately in front of me stepped to one side, I almost bumped into Lucy. She had the grace to look a bit embarrassed and at least asked me how I was.

"All right, considering," I said. "It's hard to find work when your previous employer gives you a rubbish reference, though." I didn't feel I needed to be polite.

"Yeah, well, that wasn't my fault. Really."

I didn't believe her but it didn't really matter. "Well, I've got something that is at least keeping me in my flat." She was looking as though things were going all right for her. I noticed she was carrying a designer handbag that would have set her back a couple of week's wages and wearing a suit that was way more classy than anything I'd seen her in before. "Did you get promoted or something?"

"Yeah. I'm running Public Sector Operations now. They liked how I pulled us back with the Department after the fuss over -- well, you know...."

"The fuss over me? Glad to have provided the opportunity."

"Don't be sour, David. It wasn't my fault and you SHOULD have revealed the possible conflict of interest."

"I think my moral compass must have been affected by the fact that my boss kept on insisting on having sex in the office."

"David," she looked at me with one raised eyebrow, "is that really in line with the Respect Agenda? Anyway, I have to get on. I'm glad you've got something going for you. I hope it all turns out OK."

With that she flagged down a passing cab, got in and sat back as it drove off. As the taxi pulled away, I saw a police patrol car was parked on the far side of the street. The driver, her green MCF epaulettes distinctively bright, was staring at me. She obviously decided I was no threat. Moments later she drove away too.

Wednesday March 30^th

I'm feeling depressed after my encounter with Lucy. Maybe trying to tough this situation out isn't the answer but on the other hand I can't say I fancy the consequences of absconding. I mean I never did hear what happened to Norm.

April 2022

Tuesday April 5^th

I got to Sally's this morning expecting to have plenty to do in the house. She announced she was off to play golf and left me with the list of tasks. She didn't mention her husband. I wasn't not sure where he was. I didn't see him at all.

Sally had left the TV on in the lounge so I was listening to the news while I was working. There wasn't anything there to cheer me up, though. There was a report on how the Government thinks that the latest rounds of protests are the result of insufficient supervision of males and that unsponsored males pose a significant risk to public order. Apparently they are "planning to consult on extensions to the sponsorship schemes". I bet they aren't planning to consult with me.

The other piece was on planned extensions to the Respect Agenda. Apparently too many men have been giving lip service to the whole idea (and not the sort of lip service Angie used to enjoy). It seems that availability of Ident Cards is going to be made conditional on attending a Respect Induction programme that the Government is going to introduce over the coming year. Something else to worry about.

Sally got back at about 2 o'clock looking very pleased with herself. She tossed her sports bag down in the entrance hall and suggested I mighty like to get her kit cleaned so she could play again tomorrow. I'd just about got it all sorted out for the washing machine and found her golf shoes smeared with grass stains and in need of a clean when she appeared at the door of the laundry room.

"Why don't you leave that for a while?" she said.

"I'd rather get on," I replied.

"Sorry," she said, "it wasn't really meant to be a question. I'm going to take a bath. Would you like to help?"

"I'm guessing that isn't a question either."

"Clever boy!"

I followed her up to her bedroom and she was already pulling off her blouse as she got through the door. "Run my bath while I get undressed," she said waving me towards her en suite bathroom.

As I got in there I found out where Sally's husband was. She had left him bound and gagged sitting on her toilet. He was naked except that his head seemed to be completely swaddled in Sally's underwear -- a pair of pants had been pulled over his face, a stocking pulled on over that and a bra tied across this mouth as a gag. I didn't know what he had done to upset his wife but it was pretty obvious she had been quite annoyed. He sensed that someone had come into the room and gave a questioning grunt. I wasn't sure how to respond so I turned my attention to the bath.

I started the water running. "Make sure it's hot," Sally called from the bedroom. There was a bewildering array of bottles of oils and bath potions on the side and I was staring at them in indecision when Sally came in. She pulled off her bathrobe without being in the least concerned at my presence and tossed her robe across the room to me. Seeing my failure to do more than fill the bath with water, she muttered "Oh good heavens," under her breath, picked up a tube of gel and squirted some into the bath. "Hang that up," she said pointing at the robe and then come and kneel here."

She seemed not in the least embarrassed by the fact that she was standing there naked and wasn't in the least worried that I caught myself staring at her as she brushed her long blonde hair back and caught it up in a sort of turban made with a towel. Her body showed the benefits of an enthusiasm for exercise; she wasn't carrying any excess weight and muscles toned from gym workouts and rounds of golf meant she carried herself with a sensual litheness.

She saw me staring at her crotch and laughed. "Oh good heavens, it's not so strange. Do all you boys think women don't grow hair below the waist?" It was true that almost all the girls I had encountered usually shaved, it was what you expected them to do in my generation, so I suppose I may have been gawping at her mass of blonde pubic hair.

She shook here head as if in disbelief at my naivety and stepped into the bath. "I said come here." She pointed to the mat beside the bath I did as I was told and went to kneel beside her.

"Good boy," she said and handed me a sponge. "You can wash me. I would find that relaxing."

A frustrated grunt from her helpless husband indicated that he was finding the experience anything but relaxing. "Do be quiet, Geoff," she scolded, "You're in no position to help."

As Sally lay back in the bath I had to lean across with the sponge soaping and scrubbing. She made no attempt to hide the fact that she was enjoying having a man kneel beside her, obeying each "Not there," and "My back now," and "Yes, down to my feet." I worked my way around her body as she asked, my hands slipping over her skin under the water. The brush of the sponge across her breasts brought an appreciative "Mmm" and I worried for a moment that I might be setting up more problems for myself. She told me to go on though, "Don't stop. Use the sponge. That's very good. I can see why Angie was so keen on you." I didn't really feel it was a welcome complement -- the last thing I wanted was for Sally to think that I might have more uses than keeping her living room and kitchen clean and tidy.

She kept me soaping and sponging her for a good half hour. It was clear from the way that she talked that the whole thing was intended to be a humiliation for Geoff every bit as much as it was to be enjoyable for her. "Goodness, that's good -- what a shame my husband can't be so gentle."; "Oh, my, really Geoff you could learn so much if you could only see this."; "Ah, yes, that's nice. Oooh, I don't think Geoff realises that you can stroke there." Geoff seemed to be trying not to notice. Certainly he didn't react to any of her remarks.

Needless to say, my cock was taking its own interest in the proceedings. The feel of Sally's naked, soapy body and the sight of her so evidently enjoying my touch was encouraging it to thicken and press hard against my trousers. Luckily, as I was kneeling beside the bath, Sally couldn't see it

In the end I think Sally just got bored with trying to tease Geoff. "That will do," she announced. "Towels!"

I picked up a big bath towel from the pile on a shelf at the end of the bathroom. She was already standing up, water dripping from her naked body as I turned back to the bath.

"Hurry up, I'm getting cold," she scolded.

I draped the towel around her and was immediately sent off into the bedroom to find her some underwear. I did as she asked -- I didn't think she would welcome the suggestion of using some of what was imprisoning her husband.

She pulled on her knickers and then got me to fasten her bra behind her back. "Good boy," she said gesturing back into the bedroom. "Pass me that shirt. The green one."

I went across to her dressing closet. I suppose I was a bit distracted by events but when I took the shirt off its hangar I heard her calling. "Not that one you idiot. That's blue. The green one next to it." I looked again at it. She was right. Of course. I'm not sure how I made such a silly mistake.

Luckily she decided not to do anything other than favour me with a withering look that was more eloquent than any criticism. At least I got the right thing when she asked for her skirt.