J. McKenna: Office Slave

She got up and went to the bedroom. Bill had a suitcase on the bed and was packing. “Where are you going?"

"For now, back to my parents.” He looked up. “I know, I'm too old to be running home to mamma, but I don't have the funds to start myself up somewhere else right now. Once I get a job, I'll find a place."

"Just like that, you're throwing six years of marriage out the window?"

"No, not ‘just like that.’ It took a stunning act of betrayal to do it."

El's mouth worked, but no sounds came out. Her anger, her humiliation, her fear all combined and contradicted each other in her mind. Then another voice, a tiny, wicked voice called out: Now you can do what you've always wanted to do. She shook the stray thought out of her head. She didn't want to do this, how crazy that idea was! But it was like a tickle or an itch she couldn't scratch.

Bill finished packing. El stood there, trying to think of something to say. Did she want him to go? She could cancel the deal, go to prison. Would Bill wait for her?

No, she decided. He wouldn't. Their marriage had been rocky before, now it had finally shattered. She couldn't save it by herself. She was truly on her own.

At the door, Bill turned to her. “Goodbye, Ellen. I'll miss you, I really will. I'll come by later for the rest of my things. Good luck with your new job.” He said the last with a sarcasm that burned Ellen's soul.

She stood there, mute and shaking, as Bill loaded up his car and drove away without a backward glance. She shut the door and leaned against it. Now she really was screwed, she thought, not even smiling at the irony of that phrase. Jack had only agreed to pay for half the expenses-there's no way she could cover the rest. She'd have to sell the house for sure.

Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. That meant that Jack wouldn't have to pay nearly as much for a cheap apartment as a house. She could wrap up her ordeal in far less time. She'd have to do the math.

"Jack will know what to do,” she whispered to herself. “I'll ask Jack.” She caught herself. “I'll ask Mr. Sawyer.” That she would defer to her boss didn't seem strange to her. In just twenty-four hours her life had fallen under his control, and she seemed ready to give him all her problems.

She couldn't eat, her stomach was too upset. She had another scotch and went to bed. Her only thought before she fell asleep was: I hope I can shave my pussy properly by myself.

The next morning, El was groggy when the alarm went off at seven. She got up late and took another shower. She sat on the closed toilet seat afterwards and shaved herself as carefully as she could. Using a hand mirror, she thought she reached nearly every bit of stubble, but it was awkward and took far too long.

It was 8:15 by the time she raced into her bedroom to pick out an outfit. Her “new” wardrobe consisted of a few short skirts and tops; she'd have to buy more soon. She threw on a denim miniskirt and a light blue top. Since she didn't have to worry about underwear, she could be dressed in minutes. Remembering Jack's comment about her shoes, El chose a pair of tan sandals with three-inch heels. She had bought them before she'd gotten married and rarely wore them. Now she felt tall and shapely, if a bit unstable.

With a sudden bolt of fear, she realized she had forgotten to put on her makeup. She looked at her watch: 8:25. There was no time to put on a foundation. Quickly, she smeared on some eyeliner and rouge, then coated her lips. She wished she'd remembered to buy false eyelashes. Maybe Jack would allow her to purchase them during the workday.

She heard the car horn just as she finished brushing her teeth, so she dropped everything and ran out the door. It was Jack, not Raphael, she was happy to see. She got in and, without being asked, pulled up her skirt and sat on the seat. She spread her legs for him. His hand reached over and rested against her pussy. It made her feel hot and lightheaded.

"You seemed to be running behind today,” Jack said, his fingers teasing her.

"Um, yes. I had a little trouble getting up."

"How did Bill take it last night?” He made no move to drive away.

Well, might as well tell him, she thought. “Not well. He left me, went home to his parents'."

Jack glanced at her. “How does that make you feel?"

"Like a failure. Like I've been abandoned. ‘Course, I can't exactly blame him. As he pointed out, I made this decision on my own, without any input from him. So I got what I deserved."

"I guess that changes things-concerning the house, I mean."

"Yeah. I'll have to put it on the market now. Of course, I'll give you anything I make from it-unless you want me to use that money to get a cheap apartment."

What was unspoken, of course, was: Are you going to help me pay for my living expenses?

Jack was silent for a time. He simply stroked her pussy. She found herself getting lost in his attentions. Finally, he said, “Yes, you should put your house on the market right away. I know a realtor who might be willing to help you out."

El knew what that meant-more sex in exchange for services. Her stomach fluttered and she wasn't sure if it was from the thought of her ever-expanding list of “clients” or Jack's fingers rubbing her clit.

He suddenly stopped and El opened her eyes to look at him. “Rather than get an apartment, I've decided to move you into my house-temporarily. I have plenty of room. That way, you won't have to pay rent and all the money you earn can go right into paying me back. We can sell your furniture or put it into storage."

El mulled that over for a minute. She visualized herself, waking up on clean sheets, next to Jack, having him roll over and fuck her hard before she got up. She liked that idea. “Yes, sir."

El waited for Jack to start the car. Then he said: “So Bill's gone? The house is empty?"

She looked at him. Did he want to fuck her here? “Yeah, it's empty."

"Good. I need to find you another outfit."

"You don't like this?"

"No, it's fine. I want you to wear that. But we have a client meeting this afternoon and I want you to have something more conservative to change into."

That told El that this client may not be interested in a sex slave.

They got out. El had to adjust her skirt. Her pussy tingled. She led Jack up the stairs, wondering what her neighbors must think. First they see her husband leave, now a stranger goes inside with her.

Jack picked out a nice business dress-if you were Ally McBeal. The skirt was too short, but not obscenely so. Not like the one she had on. The top consisted of a light blue rayon blouse and a suit jacket that matched the skirt. No underwear, however. He didn't let her wear the outfit, he just brought it along on a hanger.

Back in the car, Jack's fingers went back to work. They rode in silence for a bit. El's pussy was beginning to grow wet and she could hear the occasional squishy sound as Jack's probed her. Surprisingly, she wasn't too sore this morning. His ministrations were beginning to turn her on again. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the car seat.

"I feel some stubble here,” Jack's voice interrupted her daydream.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir. I spent a lot of time on it. That's why I was almost late."

"Well, we can fix that."

She wanted to ask what he meant and she visualized him shaving her on his desktop every day. The thought excited her. But before she could speak, they bumped over the entrance leading to the plant. El sat up and automatically started to adjust her skirt before realizing that was the actions of the Old Ellen, not the new, slutty El. Jack parked, but before he got out, he raised his fingers to her mouth. Without thinking about it, El licked her own juices off them. Jack got out, again without a word. She got out, then tugged her skirt down over her ass cheeks. She reached into the back seat and retrieved the outfit.