Carol Penter heard
her computer terminal beep which signified a message had been sent to her via
the company's private network mailing system. She took no notice and continued
to stare out of the window. Her office,
being on the forty-fifth floor, provided her with a majestic view over the city
and, in the crisp clear light of a winter's afternoon, she could even make out
the snow on the distant hills.
But instead of enjoying the view, she was
consumed by a chilling mixture of guilt and fear. She was a senior partner in Bently International Investments and, in order to prevent
her parents from being made bankrupt as a result of the Lloyd's 'names' fiasco,
had knowingly committed the crime of insider trading.
On their behalf and using privileged and
confidential information, she had discreetly purchased, using several shell
companies and nominees, thousands of shares in a company which was about to be
acquired by a huge American multi-national.
Following the take-over, the value of the shares rocketed, giving her
parents a clear profit of over four hundred and fifty thousand pounds which
enabled them to clear their liabilities.
Bently International had handled the take-over and considered
the heavy buying of shares immediately prior to the event highly suspicious and
it was not long before the investigations started.
Bently had engaged the Piers Deveraux
security organisation to carry out the investigation. Every member of the Bently staff had been interviewed, even those who had not
been associated with the take-over.
Carol smiled briefly to herself. She had not
been directly involved and had only learned of the take-over by chance. Even
so, as a result of wanting to help, she had risked everything; her career; her
financial security; her future and her reputation. She was fairly sure she had got away with it
but had solemnly vowed to herself never to do anything like it again.
Even so, she shuddered when she remembered
how relieved she'd been that Deveraux himself had not
interviewed her. Instead a Ms Castle,
another director who was over confident and too full of herself by half, had
spent some ten minutes or so confirming she had not been involved with the
Although she had only met Deveraux
briefly a year or so ago, she knew all about his reputation. Had he interviewed
her, she feared his piercing blue eyes would have stripped away her defences,
read her innermost thoughts and easily discovered her guilty secret. At the
time of their only meeting, she recalled being acutely aware of the magnetic
power of his eyes which she found very disturbing yet strangely exciting. She'd even found herself hoping perhaps he
would be interested enough to ask her out but he hadn't.
She blushed when she remembered how, from
time to time, she included him in her fantasies while she masturbated. When that happened, her orgasms were always
No-one knew anything about his private life
but he was acknowledged to be one of the best in the business and an expert on
hi-tech computer systems, software and surveillance. He kept himself to himself
and usually only appeared when there was trouble and now everyone knew he was
hunting his prey down with a vengeance. Still at least he wasn't after her.
Carol took a deep breath, held it for a
moment, then expelled the air in her lungs as hard as she could. She turned
away from the window and padded into her en-suite rest room. She always took
off her footwear in the office and today, her black ankle boots with their
petite two inch heels, were under her desk.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror
and the way her long straight black hair cascaded over her shoulders. When she
pulled her shoulders back, the crisp white blouse strained to restrain her
breasts, clearly showing the outline of the lacy bra. Her regulation navy skirt
finished some four inches below the knee and she silently cursed her tan tights
which were making her feel hot and sticky.
"Pull yourself together, Carol Penter. You've got to hold your nerve if you want to pull
this off. Nobody suspects you and you know Deveraux
has no idea."
Her words cheered her up, making her green
eyes sparkle as she smiled at her reflection. She knew she was attractive and
sexy for men seemed to fancy her even though most of them were intimidated by
her status and high salary. She had even, on occasions, overheard other female
colleagues speak enviously of her looks and figure. They didn't take into account the careful
dietary control and regular work-outs she did every week. Her 36 - 23 - 35 figure and long, shapely
legs which were mainly responsible for her height of 5' 8", were only
achieved and maintained by taking good care of herself.
Satisfied her make-up was acceptable, she
walked back into her office and sat at her desk.
Her office was large and expensively
furnished, indicating her senior position within the company. She was highly paid, had a large apartment in
a converted warehouse by the river and a cottage in the country where she
retreated to most weekends. She enjoyed a large circle of friends but for the
last two years, there had been no-one special in her life, mainly as a result
of totally committing herself to work.
Cindy Miles, her PA just about controlled
everything to do with her working environment. She organised her diary, made
and cancelled appointments and meetings and was the link between her boss and
the clients. Her desk was in the outer office and, when she was not working,
she was forever urging her boss to get herself a man.
"Carol, it's a real shame no-one is
enjoying any of the many delights you've got on offer!" was one of her
more common statements for they enjoyed a close working friendship, one which
never allowed rank or status to get in the way.
Some six months ago, Cindy had come 'out' and
told her she only had relationships with other women and that her current
partner was very domineering. Knowing Cindy was a lesbian had not bothered her
and, if anything, their working relationship seemed to have improved even more.
Every once in a while, Cindy would recount to her the intimate details of some
special event which would usually make her very wet.
Rubbing her thighs together, she cursed the
tights which were making her so uncomfortable.
She had overslept and, getting dressed, had laddered two pairs of
stockings with her long nails. In her
rush, the only things she could lay her hands on were tights.
Undoing two of the buttons running up the
front of her skirt, she slipped a hand inside and pulled on her panties to ease
the pressure. Not being able to grip the
gusset of her tights, she then slipped her hand down inside the elasticated
waistband of her skirt and tights.
Curving her fingers, she pushed the gusset down and breathed a sigh of
relief. She let her fingers rest on her labia and immediately felt herself
twitch in anticipation. She pressed harder and felt her clitoris harden.
She tried to remember the last time she'd
masturbated. It must have been four, no five days ago. God, her fingers felt good as she began
rubbing herself. The wetness seemed to come instantly and her labia lips
opened, allowing a finger to slip between them into the warm, silky softness.
Her tongue pushed between her lips, wetting them, tasting her lipstick. Her
thighs opened as wide as her skirt would permit and began thrusting her sex
against her fingers.
Her nipples hardened and pushed against the
inside of her bra, both demanding attention. The thought struck her, she had
never had an orgasm in her office. She glanced at the digital clock in the top
corner of her monitor. It was 15:48. She also saw the flashing message
indicator and remembered the earlier bleep.
"You'll have to wait!" she told her
terminal. "I need this right now."
Closing her eyes she saw him standing over
her, the whip in his hand. He had an arrogant smile on his face for her knew
she could never resist him. Of course, it had to be Deveraux.
"You know how to please me or do you
want my whip?"
Her heart pumped harder as she pushed first
one, two then three fingers into herself and began frigging herself while
rubbing her thumb against her hard clitoris. Her other hand went to her breasts
and began squeezing them. Her orgasm came from nowhere and hit her without
warning. Moaning loudly, she pushed her fingers in as far as she could, her
hips bucking against them as she seemed to come forever.
She sat slumped in her chair until the last
mini shocks had past then, carefully removing her fingers, pulled her hand out
of her skirt. Opening her eyes, she saw her fingers glistening with juice and,
without hesitation, sucked them clean one by one.
Buttoning her skirt up, she straightened
herself and turned to the terminal, smiling to herself.
"God, I needed that," she said to
herself. "I must remember to check
my batteries are OK. I'll also get some spares. I've an idea my little vibe is
going to be awfully busy this weekend."
She tapped in her personal code then, once it
had been verified, used the mouse to collect her mail.
There was only one message and, as she read
it, her earlier fears and feelings of guilt instantly returned to overwhelm
her. The message on the screen was terrifyingly accurate.
'CAROL PENTER! YOU HAVE BEEN VERY NAUGHTY.
FANCY THINKING YOU COULD GET AWAY WITH IT. HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN COMPUTERS
REMEMBER EVERYTHING? YOU USED FOUR COMPANIES AND FIVE NOMINEES TO BUY
THIRTY-FIVE THOUSAND SHARES IN LASERSTORE. YOUR PARENTS MADE A TOTAL OF FOUR
HUNDRED AND FIFTY-THREE THOUSAND, SEVEN HUNDRED AND EIGHT-EIGHT POUNDS WHICH
ENABLED THEM TO CLEAR THEIR LLOYD'S LIABILITY. WHILE I CONSIDER WHAT IS TO
HAPPEN TO YOU AND IF I SHOULD REPORT THIS MATTER TO SECURITY, YOU WILL NOT
DISCUSS IT WITH ANYONE, YOU WILL CARRY ON AS USUAL AND WAIT FOR MY NEXT
CONTACT. THIS MESSAGE WILL NOW ERASE."
The message stayed long enough for her to
read it twice before the screen went blank and returned to its standby mode.
She remained staring at it, unable to move,
her thoughts a jumble of fear and panic.
After a few moments, the buzz of the phone
finally registered. She picked up the handset and punched a button.
"Carol, your four o'clock has cancelled.
They're stuck in some enormous jam on the M1 and send their apologies. I've
re-scheduled them for next Wednesday. You've nothing else for today."
Fighting to control her thoughts and steady
her voice, she replied, "Thanks
Cindy. While you're on, have there been any messages on the system for me? I've
been doing some confidential work and I'm currently logged-out on the
"Just a moment, I'll check. No, nothing's come in since this morning and
you've acknowledged that one. Are you OK? You sound a little tense."
"Yes, I'm fine. My head's full of
statistics but I've done as much as I can for now and, as I'm free, I'm off
home. See you in a minute."
She replaced the handset and leaned back in
her chair. How could the message have got onto her terminal without being
logged by Cindy's? It was impossible for her to figure out as her knowledge of
networks was very limited. All she
wanted to do now was go home and hide.
Having cleared her desk and switched off the
terminal, she put on her boots, collected her bag and jacket and went into the
Cindy was sat at her desk, checking the
diary. Her red hair, cut into an urchin bob was in sharp contrast to the
charcoal coloured jersey dress she was wearing. Cindy always wore clothes which
clung to her figure. She never wore a
bra and her nipples were clearly visible. They seemed to be very hard.
She stood in front of her PA.
"I'm off. If anything breaks, leave a
message on my home terminal, Cindy. I'll see you Monday. Have a good
Cindy was looking at her closely.
"Are you sure you're OK, Carol? You look
as if you've seen a ghost."
"Yes, I'm fine. Things were getting
hectic in there that's all."
Cindy smiled a knowing smile.
"Yes, I heard the moans. As you can see, they made my nipples stand
up. Was it good?"
She blushed at the question.
"Put an ad out for me. PA wanted who can
mind their own business. Goodbye!"
In the lift taking her to the underground car
park, she felt strangely excited by the fact that Cindy had known she had been
masturbating in her office.
Then she remembered the message and the
chilling fears returned.