You can Always Say No Pt. 02

Kimberley did not sleep well that night.

Dreams intruded into her mind; dreams of softly spoken words, kindly or seductive or cruel depending on his mood. Of chains and bindings, cuffs and whips; other things, sweet and dark and she'd never contemplated before. She woke halfway through the night with the dreams clinging to her mind like seductive phantoms; she tried for an hour to drive them away before giving up and letting them in, masturbating furiously to visions of control and degradation.

She woke and showered and ate and did not, at any point, open her app or even touch her phone.

Kimberly was...

She was scared.

Last night had been intense. So intense that in the cold light of morning, her pussy aching with the treatment she'd given it last night, she felt something like dread steal over her.

He'd been nice. But James had been nice, hadn't he? Sensitive and sweet and a little broken. And so she'd lowered her barriers to him, given herself up completely to help him, to fix him...

How quickly sensitive turned into angry, sweet into selfish, broken into violent. She'd lost a year- more than a year- nearly bombed out of university, nearly lost herself to him.

Lost herself to him...

How easy would it be to lose herself in Josh? How quickly until he simply owned her-

(Another pulse of arousal and she remembered the fantasies from last night.)

...she probably should just forget it. Don't expose herself to the risk, don't let another potential James back into her life. Last night was a thing of fantasies, not reality- at least not the reality for Kimberly, frumpy little single girl who struggled to get dates.

...she was late for the office, wasn't she? Shit.

***

She arrived fifteen minutes late. Ignoring Greg's look- a sort of strange mixture of smug triumph and open contempt- she sat down and booted up her computer.

"You alright?" Blonde and perfect Sam smiled at her.

"Just fine," she murmured as her screen flickered to life. "Sorry."

"You look tired."

"Busy night." Her brain caught up with her mouth a half-second later and she felt the traitorous prickle of an angry blush spread across her face. "Uh."

Sam's face was a beacon of smugness. "Ohhhh..."

"It was just coffee!"

"Just?"

"Ah." For a moment she wanted to add I mean I did hand him my panties at the end but one again that little, quiet voice inside of her leapt up to strangle it in her throat. "Just. Coffee."

"You like him, though?"

She paused, remembering the pleasant conversation, the way he'd seemed genuinely interested in her. "Yes." The waves of pleasure as he ordered her, the drumbeat of her heart as she handed her sopping wet panties over to him. The medley of dark thoughts the night after. "Yes."

"Seeing him again?"

There was an awkward pause. "Um."

"Um?"

"Well..."

"Well?"

"I- I don't know if I should."

"Why?"

She pondered her answer but didn't have any time before her emails came up on screen and she suddenly found herself busy fixing an emergency. By the time she'd started putting the situation right, the moment had passed.

The morning passed as well, slow and tedious, with Sam and her having brief chats here and there. Greg passed by several times, to stand uncomfortably close, stare down their tops and give the occasional new set of orders; Kimberly did her best to give off the same aura of busy, impersonal obedience that Samantha seemed to have perfected.

It wasn't until lunch- a ham and cheese bagel for her, yet another impressively healthy salad for Smantha- that she remembered the question.

"He's...it feels all a bit...intense, you know? I went on one coffee date and things just got...a bit wild."

"Wild how?"

"He, uh." How the hell to put this? "He asked me to do something and..."

"What?"

"It- it doesn't matter. What's important is that it felt really, really...good."

"Okay..."

"Like, wayyy too good. Like...addictive good."

"Okay."

"And I'm just worried, you know, if he can do that, what if I can't trust him...?"

Samantha sat back. "So. Let me see if I understand."

"Sure."

"You met this guy for coffee."

"Yeah."

"You really like him."

"Yeah."

"And you have crazy chemistry with him, right?"

"Well...yes."

"What part of any of this is bad, exactly?"

"I don't want him to be like- well-" She gestured into the air helplessly but Sam just nodded.

"Hey...listen. I don't know what sort of losers you dated in the past, but you can't let bad experiences get in the way, okay? I say if you click with this guy, give him another chance."

"It's- a lot."

"A lot of women would kill to feel that sort of intensity, you know! Shit, I can't remember how long it's been since I felt something like that for a guy- not since I was a teenager."

"Seriously? You?" Samantha's love life was a story delivered in snippets and hints, crumpled clothes from the day before and half-glimpsed flirty texts. "I would have thought..."

"Honey...I've had plenty of fun with plenty of guys. Even some love. But that sort of shit that you're talking about...no. Not since high school." Samantha sighed and closed her eyes. "Are you going to call him back?"

"Probably."

"Hey, and don't stress so much. If he suggests anything dodgy you can always say no, right?"

"Of- of course."

***

Kim: Hi.

Josh: Hi.

Wow, her heart was thudding in her chest.

Kim: What happens if I decide to see you again?

Josh: We meet up. Go on another date, like before...and I will ask you to do things.

She bit her lip, painfully aware of Samantha sitting next to her.

Kim: What sort of things?

Josh: Like before.

Josh: Sexual things.

Josh: Things you'll love.

Kimberly let out a long, ragged sigh. She took another glance at Sam who smiled back at her and gave an encouraging little waggle of her eyebrows.

Kim: You scare me a little.

Josh: I don't want to.

Josh: If you want to stop this, you can just say so.

Josh: But part of you really wants this too, don't you?

Kim closed her eyes, feeling the ache in her body rush through, terrifying and wonderful and-

"Kimberly!"

Her eyes snapped open and saw Greg hovering- no, towering above her, his expression twisting his ugly features into something grotesque. "Come with me."

She exchanged a look with Samantha as she rose. The blonde girls' face was one of helpless sympathy.

Greg's office was small and cramped. As per company regulations, his desk had no paperwork scattered on top. Against regulations were the soda cans and crisp packets that had been allowed to accumulate on the desk and floor, with only a handful managing to make the short distance to his waste-paper basket.

Greg did not sit on his chair. He stood with his back to the desk, which meant that in that tiny office he was uncomfortably close. He huffed, and she smelt something awful in his breath. "You've been on your text all day."

"Uh." She leaned away from his bulk, away from his expression, red-faced and snarling. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough." He leaned forward closer, and she gave ground as best she could. "I'm going to have to do something. Consider this to be strike one."

"Uh, sir-"

"I don't like you're attitude, Kimmy." His face twisted into a sneer. "I don't like the way you act. Girls like you, you think your looks can let you get away with things, don't you?"

Kimberley wanted to point out she wasn't that sort of girl- had never, ever considered her to be that sort of girl, no-one ever did as far as she was aware- but he kept on talking, that ugly dull spark of hate that never quite left his eyes beginning to swell into a flame. "Christ, you women are all the same. A fucking generation of sluts."

"That-"

"You think sit around being lazy while us men do all the real work, Christ," now he was spitting, each work like an assault, "and use your looks to get out of it. Christ." His voice suddenly became a low growl. "I want you to go away and think about your behaviour."

"But I-"

"Another strike if you say one word. You know that I'm your line manager, right?"

She could only nod, shocked to find tears at the edges of her eyes.

"You're new to this company. This is your first serious job. I can get you fired, I can give you such a shitty reference that no-one will ever hire you after this. Understand?" One hand reached out and poked her chest, staying there, his stubby, ugly finger digging into the swell of her small breast like a knife. "So think about how you can keep on my good side."

His finger slid lower to press against her nipple and Kimberley shook with revulsion and fear.

Abruptly he turned away and stomped over to his chair. With another huff, he sat down, his bulk making an audible thunk as the furniture seemed to sag underneath him. "Understand?" he asked, his attention suddenly on his computer.

She could only nod, shame and humiliation welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheek.

"Get out. I want to see better behaviour from now on."

She fled.

***

Sam did her best. She was there with sympathy, advice; none of it particularly helpful, however. Both girls were aware of the situation; Sam herself mentioned stories, of others who had gone to HR only to find themselves mysteriously fired once the company decided it would rather get rid of replaceable new starters than deal with a toxic boss.

She left work that day still in tears. Greg seemed to hover nearby, his face still twisted into that same smug, angry grin.

She got home and sat down. She felt as though someone had picked her up and squeezed out every ounce of happiness like a sponge, until all that was left was desiccated and empty. She felt like crying again and hiding in her room for the rest of her life.

Dear God help her, she felt like calling her mother.

A ding from her phone. Josh.

Josh: Sorry if I pushed too hard.

Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. She didn't care anymore, did she?

Kim: It's fine. I had a horrible experience right now.

Josh: Sorry to hear it.

Josh: Want to talk about it?

***

"Hi."

"Hey." His voice was soft and gentle. She lay on the couch in her work blouse and long skirt. "So tell me what happened."

"It wasn't so bad." It was, but the little voice inside of her whispered don't make a fuss, don't let him know you're pathetic and so she felt the obscene need to downplay what had occurred.

"Tell me," he said. "Or should I make it command?"

His voice was light, teasing; and yet she felt goosebumps break out across her body. "Ah. No. It's okay. You don't need to do that..."

She talked. A little at first, and then a lot. Stuff she thought no-one would want to hear, stuff that she knew made her look weak; things that James used to sneer at, that her mother would somehow manage to explain was, in a way that was never quite defined, Kimberley's fault. He asked some questions here and there and then talked.

"That's horrible."

"It's just- I know there are people like him out there in the world. It's just I don't know what to do."

"Have you complained to HR?"

"There are stories...Sam told me. Girls who talked, they complained and made a fuss..."

"And then they were fired for 'unrelated reasons', right?"

"Yeah." It sounded so pathetic that she had to remind herself that she was the victim here, she wasn't the one causing trouble; but old whispers nagged at her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Look, I have some ideas. You mind if I look into things? People you can talk to, that sort of thing?"

"You don't need to-"

"I want to."

"It's not your business."

"Maybe, but I'd like to make you my business."

She felt something cave. "Thanks."

"No problem." The voice turned playful. "Is there anything else you want me to do?"

She went very still. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is," he said, "my power works through my voice."

Oh.

He continued. "Even over the phone."

Oh. Oh.

She felt the chills running down her spine and swallowed. "Have you...?"

"Been using it? No. But I would very much like to."

There was long pause.

"You can always say no."

Kimberley licked her lips in the silence that followed. She could just hang up. She should just hang up. She would just-

"Okay," she murmured. "Okay."

His voice took on that rich, pleasant, confident tone. "So then. Tell me what you're wearing."

"Oh." The tingling sense of anticipation, that slight, gentle nudge towards obedience, soft as the morning sun, subtle as the scent of roses on a spring day, gently trailed around her. "Um. My workplace blouse." The pleasure began, subtle and soft but promising so much more. "Uh...my skirt. My socks." Her sad black socks seemed like stupid things to focus on as the pleasure rose. "And...um..."

"Go on."

"My underwear. My bra...my panties." She gasped as the pleasure rose, thrumming throughout her body like a chord on a string. "That's what I'm wearing."

"Put me on speaker phone."

She desperately thumbed the icon on her phone, placing it on the top of the coffee table as she backed away. She was shaking in anticipation, licking her lips with eager need.

"Yes."

"Now...remove your blouse."

She moved, her hands picking at the buttons and then stopped. No. This wasn't something to do slowly, was it? Her hands- trembling with eagerness- undid each button as she stared down at the phone screen, blank and empty. Meanwhile the pleasure rose in glorious waves.

The pale blouse came off and lay, discarded and forgotten, on the floor. She murmured, "I did it."

"Now. Remove your skirt."

Her hands slid down her slim stomach to her skirt, her dark and sensible skirt. Flexing, they eased their way past her hips until the fabric puddled on the floor. The scent of her need filled the air; she was shocked to see how wet, how wonderfully, gloriously wet, she already was.

"Yes." She breathed it.

"Remove your socks."

Soon enough they ended up piled with her other clothes.

"Now..." She leaned forward and she could imagine him there, could imagine him sitting in the room, smiling that confident smile of his, as he said, "Now take off the bra."

She grinned and twirled, turning her back to the imaginary Josh. Reached behind and undid the clasp, turned around and gave the phone a molten look. Let the bra ease off her body and turned back, hands covering her breasts, fingers digging into her flesh. "Yes."

"Take off your panties."

She leant forward as her hands moved away from her small breasts, nipples gloriously exposed, as she smiled sweetly at the phantom of him. She hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties and pushed. Slowly, oh so slowly, until her pussy, her sweet and hot and wet pussy was out, and she could show him how eager she was, how much he turned her on-

"Well?"

She blinked. "It's off. It's off." Her panties were kicked away like a cursed thing.

"Tell me how you feel."

"Oh God. I feel so good...I feel hot and I am so wet for you, sir..."

"Keep calling me sir. I like it."

"Sir, I'm so horny and ready for you, if you were here I'd let you do anything you wanted, my whole body feels like it's on fire but it feels incredible, you're not even here but I want to worship you sir, I want to so whatever you ask, I just-"

"Keep talking. Touch yourself. Make yourself come."

"Yes sir, thank you sir, thank you so much, I'm touching myself and It feels so incredible it feels it feels..."

The world went white.

"...Kim? Kim? Are you there?"

"Ss..." Her throat hurt. She thought she could hear knocking on her door. Someone was shouting- Sir was shouting in his normal voice, begging to know if she was alright, if she'd hurt herself...

"Kim!? Talk to me! Are you okay!?"

Kim lay naked in her studio apartment, listening to her neighbour threaten to call the police, listening to Sir's panicked sounds, and said throat a voice hoarse with screaming, "I'm going to hang up now."