The new office

The office block I strolled past near Oxford Circus the other was newly finished: as yet unoccupied.

But what, I wondered, when it was? How would the first girl to be fucked in the new building come to find herself in such a position? An office love affair: a passionately breaking-in for the boardroom table? The managing director pushing a girl face down over his desk, and giving her no choice?

And what if it had already been christened? Still half-finished: they’d brought her here late at night. No-one to see, no-one to hear. No-one to know – save her and them and the man whose bidding they were performing. He wanted her whipped, naturally: that’s what he always had done to girls foolish enough as to cross him. And if the group of them were to choose to take matters further and use her in whatever ways they wished, that was entirely down to their discretion.

Provided, of course, they sent him the photos. So he could post her copies. So she knew the risks of ever crossing him again…