The Laura Effectbykrr1957©
This story deals with themes of coercion in a lesbian setting. If you think you might be offended please find yourself another story.
She sat arrogantly and her eyes conveyed an unspoken challenge. At eighteen years old she was my junior by fifteen years but, for her, it counted for nothing; I represented authority in name only.
She wore her blonde hair in a pony tail scraped back severely from a face that had a natural beauty which she seemed determined to disguise with crudely applied cheap cosmetics. It seemed perverse, therefore, that she was dressed in a manner that was guaranteed to draw attention.
When she walked in the room her skirt was so short that it threatened to reveal her underwear with every step she took and a blue lycra top strained to hold her ample breasts in check. I could have taken issue with her and cited the dress code but I did not want a confrontation before we had even started. She was my very first and I was determined to get it right.
I kept my expression impassive but my heart was beating fast and I looked down at my paperwork to hide my momentary anxiety. After a count of three I looked up again.
"Laura, you've been told how this works. This will be the first of five or six sessions after which I will make a determination about your future. Perhaps we can start today by you telling me what happened in your own words."
She said nothing for a few seconds and I sensed that she was weighing me up but I held her stare as I had been trained to do and waited for her to break the deadlock.
"It's on the file. Why do you need to hear it again?"
"I've read the file and I've reviewed the court transcripts but I want to hear it from you."
"And if I co-operate? What's in it for me?"
"Laura, I won't lie to you. You are going to serve a custodial sentence but the length and nature of that sentence will depend on the outcome of these sessions."
There was another silence as she contemplated her choices. She had already seen off two case officers and it had been made clear that I represented her final option. For a few seconds I feared that she was going to get up and walk out and it was to forestall that outcome that I prompted her.
"She was a teacher, but she was only a few years older than you..."
Laura smiled very slightly at that. I had been not been allowed to speak to Miranda Coombes but I had read her testimony and had seen her on television throughout the trial. She was a stunning redhead and the cameras had loved her; so much so that she had left the teaching profession and now worked as a news anchor.
Laura would still not be drawn and I tried a slightly different tack.
"You say she accused you of cheating...."
Her eyes hardened just a little and then, after a long pause, she spoke.
"I beat her blue-eyed girls and she couldn't take it."
Ironically, in light of later events, it turned out that, despite being dyslexic, Laura had an above average IQ and there was no reason to believe that her score in the disputed non-verbal reasoning test was anything other than genuine.
"Do you think that justifies what you did?"
"She put me down in front of the whole class. She got what she deserved."
Miranda Coombes' ordeal had lasted for three days. Laura had followed her home to her flat and, having discovered her address, she turned up on the following morning with her two accomplices.
They had never been found. Coombes had given a detailed description; two women in their early twenties one blonde, one dark, both of medium build with better than average looks. She said that they had distinctive northern accents but Laura had consistently refused to reveal their identities.
"The police report says that you kept her naked the whole time and that she was spanked repeatedly, all three of you taking turns over three days."
Laura smirked at that.
"The silly bitch should have done what she was told."
I was edging into new territory. Much of the court evidence had been given 'in camera' and was not in the public domain but, in the end, this had proved counter-productive and had lead to much lurid speculation in the press.
"What did you want her to do Laura?"
She gave an evil smile.
"You read the papers, what do you think?"
It had been very difficult to tell fact from fiction. What was not in dispute was that Laura had pretended to be Coombes and had phoned in sick. It had also come out that Coombes had spent much of the time handcuffed to her own bed.
"Was it an apology? Is that what you wanted?"
"Oh she was ready to apologize as soon as we ripped the clothes off of her."
"But you must have known that you wouldn't get away with it."
"She wasn't going to tell anyone, you can be sure of that. It was just unlucky that her boyfriend turned up."
I have to admit that, for a moment, my interest was more than purely professional and Laura seemed to pick up on the nuance.
"Do you want to hear me say it? Would that excite you?"
My mouth was a little dry but I did not want to admit to it and I left my glass of water where it was on the table. Her smile widened fractionally, as if she could read my thoughts.
Her two previous case officers had both been men. Laura had goaded them with sexual innuendo to the point where it was deemed inappropriate for them to carry on. That was why I had been drafted in. My inexperience counted against me but female case officers were currently in short supply.
As I watched she casually pulled down on her top to straighten it but, as she did so, her nipples began to stiffen. I kept my eyes locked on hers but they were there at the edge of my vision and they just continued to grow.
My own nipples are fairly prominent when I am aroused but they bore no comparison to Laura's. The long teats looked set to tear through the flimsy blue material.
"It's a little cold in here don't you think?"
The fact was that the room was comfortably warm but I was suddenly feeling somewhat hotter. When I walked into the room I was determined that I would not be fazed and I was comforted by the fact that the interview was being monitored on CCTV but the unseen audience only seemed to spur her on.
"It's very simple really. I wanted her to kiss my ass."
"Literally or metaphorically?"
As soon as I said it I wish I had not. The cardinal rule was to keep the language simple. The girls must not think that they are being spoken down to but Laura was not fazed.
"Well I guess you could say both. Metaphorically, she was going to beg for my forgiveness but, in order to do that, she was literally going to kiss my ass."
"Coombes says that you beat her, that you made her do it."
She laughed softly before she replied.
"We slapped her backside a couple of times, that's all it took, She was a total wimp."
"She says that you made her kneel."
"How else was she going to take down my jeans?"
My pulse quickened just a little. This was something new, something that was not available to me in the transcripts.
"What do you mean?"
"It's very simple. I bent over the arm of the chair. She took down my jeans and panties and then she begged."
At that moment I was shocked. I had read the papers but even they had not embellished the story to this extent. I tried to get the interview back on track.
"She did as you asked, and very quickly by your account, why didn't you let her go? It would have been your word against hers; you could have pleaded guilty to assault and avoided the kidnapping charges".
She did not reply for a second or two, almost as if the question had not occurred to her
"She gave in too easily. She spoilt the fun so I made her beg my friends as well."
"Tell me about your friends."
"Don't be a stupid bitch. I told the police nothing and I'm certainly not going to tell you."
I let the insult pass. It was my own fault, I thought that she was opening up to me, but I had misread her.
"Okay so you made her beg your friends as well. Did they undress?"
I hope I appeared clinical, as I tried to understand the ritual, but I sounded slightly awkward even to my own ear. Laura looked at me as if I had asked a stupidly obvious question.
"So what happened next?"
For the first time since she walked into the room she looked slightly on edge.
"Are you a lesbian?"
I blinked in surprise.
"No, I'm engaged."
Without thinking I showed her the expensive solitaire on my ring finger.
"It's just that you look like that actress...Portia something"
"Portia de Rossi?"
I could see that there might be a facial resemblance to the lesbian actress but she probably went a couple of dress sizes smaller than me. It was just intriguing that Laura should think that, because we looked a little like one another, we might share a common sexual orientation.
There was an awkward pause before she continued.
"I'm not a les but seeing that bitch kissing ass made me as horny as fuck. I decided to see how far I could push her."
I tried to keep my expression neutral but I felt a frisson. She was revealing more than I dared hope but, in truth, it was not just my professional curiosity which was roused.
"We had to spank her a little but she got the message. She wasn't that good, she cried the whole time, but what a fucking power trip. She just kept licking until I told her to stop and you better believe that took some while. In the end I came like a train".
I hoped that I projected my disgust. She was clearly out to shock me but I wanted her to believe that I had heard worse. I said nothing and simply waited for her to continue.
"After that the others wanted some attention. We found some booze and made ourselves comfortable."
I tried to imagine the scene and the fear that Coombes must have felt. I wondered how I would have reacted. I told myself that I would take a beating, that nothing would make me degrade myself in that way, but, then again, I had no real idea what they might have threatened her with.
I was lost in these thoughts for a moment or two but then my nostrils twitched. The room had a slightly stale, institutional, odour but I was now aware of a new smell, something vaguely familiar. I breathed in again, trying to place it, and then, with a shock, it registered. My eyes opened a little wider and I saw the amusement in hers.
She had her hands beneath the table and I realized that I had made a mistake. The rules called for her hands to be in plain sight at all times and I had not enforced it. My immediate reaction was to snap at her but to do so then would have been to admit my error and might be construed as a show of weakness.
I decided to maintain a professional demeanour and ignore it but I found myself looking at her arms checking for signs of movement.
She slouched a little lower on her seat and picked up where she had left off.
"Well you must know, a sexy woman like you, once is not enough for us girls. We all took another turn and it seemed to go on from there. We didn't even have to leave the place to eat. We just helped ourselves from the kitchen."
Her arm was flexing, barely noticeable, but just enough and the smell grew more redolent. I should have told her to stop but I was desperate to hear how her story panned out.
"You've seen her, how beautiful she is, can you imagine her down on her knees in front of you? Her mouth was really hot and her face was so smooth and delicate, not like a man's."
She was trying to provoke a reaction and, outwardly, I refused to rise to it but, for a few brief seconds the picture she painted was emblazoned on my mind. I could see myself looking down at that mane of, now famous, red curls with my fingers entwined and I could almost feel her tongue.
I shifted in my seat and pulled myself together.
"Let's just stick to the plain facts."
Laura gave a knowing smile and then I heard it, almost imperceptible, but there was no doubting. It was the sound of the soft suck of moisture.
In spite of myself I felt my cheeks begin to redden. She was sitting there, less than a metre in front of me, with her hand inside her panties. I should have stopped the interview right there and then but I did not and from that moment the course of my life changed forever.
I chose to ignore it, to pretend it was not happening, but Laura knew exactly what effect she was having. She also knew, as I did, that the watching camera was situated behind me so that she was only visible from the waist up.
Giving in, I took a much needed sip of water but, as I put the glass back down on to the table, I glanced furtively at her chest. Her nipples were still obscenely erect and, seen in outline, they were commensurately large. The heavily dimpled areolae were inches across and they seemed to have a maturity which was somehow inappropriate for one so young.
I took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes once more but she was still smiling knowingly.
"Like what you see? You only have to ask."
With that she used her free hand to lift her top and, for a couple of seconds, her breasts were totally revealed. Without thinking my eyes dropped but I looked up again almost immediately.
"Cover yourself up."
She slowly pulled her top back down into place but the after image lingered. Her breasts were heavy orbs crowned with dusky pink nipples so large that they seemed to melt into the surrounding skin but what stayed in my mind were the teats themselves standing proud enough to cast shadows.
She sat silently, almost sulky, and I tried to draw her out again.
"You stayed in her flat for two nights wasn't that a little reckless?"
"Maybe, but she was getting better and better with practise. Just think about it. She was there to be used; when we woke up, after meals, even when we were watching her TV."
I should have felt abhorrence, not least because of the casual nature of her cruelty, but to my eternal shame I felt a familiar tingling between my legs.
"Why did the other two leave?"
"They had to get back but I was greedy. We had her handcuffed to the bed, totally helpless, and I couldn't resist one last time...and that's how her boyfriend found us, with me sitting on her face."
"And he arrested you?"
"I reckon he took his time about it. I think the bastard watched until I was finished."
"A little unlucky that her boyfriend was a policeman."
"She wouldn't have pressed charges, she didn't want it coming out, but once he knew what was going on he couldn't turn a blind eye."
I decided to wind things up and reassert my authority.
"Well Laura, I think that's enough for now. I would like to thank you for being so candid with me but I have to say that your description of your victim's ordeal and your obvious lack of remorse inclines me to feel less well disposed towards you right now."
She looked at me coldly, as though she had expected no other outcome, and then she slowly got to her feet.
"A couple of things you ought to know. We didn't take the handcuffs with us, we found them in the flat after we got there...and, yes, we made her beg but she was still begging long after the spankings stopped"
I sat stunned and, as she held her hand out to me, I shook it without thinking.
She knocked at the door and, after the guard came in and escorted her away, I gave her a moment and followed her out. I quickly turned towards the ladies room and then stood still at the sink.
For a few seconds I looked down at my hand like Lady Macbeth but instead of thrusting it under the tap I tentatively brought my fingers to my nose. I could smell her from inches away, and my first thought was that the scent was surprisingly like my own.
I caught my reflection in the mirror and blushed. I was a trained professional supposedly doing my job and here I was loitering in the lavatory like a guilty schoolgirl.
The room had two stalls, both empty, and I slipped into the nearest one.
I do not know what possessed me. I had never before entertained fantasies of sex with another woman but, having locked the door behind me, I slowly and deliberately eased my hand down into my panties. It seemed so perverted, almost as if I were rubbing myself against her, but the immediate sexual charge was almost overwhelming.
It was wrong on so many levels. I enjoy a healthy sexual appetite and had probably had more than my fair share of partners prior to getting engaged but I had never got so close to orgasm in such a short time. It was made worse because I knew that it was fuelled by a combination of Laura's outrageous behaviour and the story she had told.
I was not even using my fingers. The warmth of my hand and the knowledge that it had been tainted by her touch was enough of itself. I desperately tried to conjure an image of John, currently working two hundred miles away, but all I could think of was that young harlot and, more particularly, her remarkable breasts.
I was jolted back to reality when I suddenly heard a door opening and then the sound of someone occupying the adjacent stall. I quickly rearranged my clothes, flushed the bowl, and walked out. This time I did wash my hands scrubbing them more vigorously than necessary but I convinced myself that the whole thing was a temporary aberration. There had been no harm done and it would certainly not happen again.
Now I wanted to get home and have a shower. After that I would write up my case notes and get my relationship with Laura Simmons back onto a totally professional footing.
I looked at my watch and was surprised to find that only a few minutes had passed since the interview ended. I went back down the corridor, the way I had come, and walked into the observation room where I had left my coat and bag.
"Are you okay?"
The girl sitting at the monitor did not look much older than Laura herself but the fact that she had drawn this duty meant that she was at least one year post qualified. It seemed an odd question for her to ask but I answered politely.
"Yes, I'm fine thank you."
I found myself checking the monitor which showed the empty interview room and, whilst I had seen it before, I now noted just how clear an image the camera relayed.
"You could have used the chicken switch."
She was referring to the panic button on the underside if the desk which would have brought the guard running.
"I think I had it under control."
She smiled but I thought I detected a faintest hint of condescension. I then noticed that she was not wearing her clip-on tie and had undone the top buttons of her blouse. This would not have seemed out of the ordinary were it not for the new governor's insistence on a strict adherence to the uniform code.
Only then did it occur to me that she too might have been affected by Laura's display. She turned round and ejected a DVD from the machine putting it carefully into a case.
"Do you want a copy?"
She kept her expression neutral but that was just something about the way that she said it and I replied tersely.
"I am not entitled to a copy."
She gave a tiny shrug of the shoulders.
"I thought she came out with stuff that didn't come out at the trial."
"Even if she did, it's strictly confidential. She's already been tried and convicted. The purpose of these interviews is simply to assess her suitability to join one of the new rehabilitation programmes."
She looked taken aback by my harsh tone and I felt a little guilty. In the scheme of things she was way down the scale compared to my exulted status but the job she and her colleagues were doing was both demanding and draining. If she was earning a third of what I was getting I would have been surprised.
It was very easy to see the uniformed staff as drones but it had to be remembered that they too had had to qualify to do their jobs. In fact, I found it interesting, from a professional point of view, to see the lengths to which they would go to to assert their individuality.