The Devil’s Work

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    floki
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    Allie didn’t know why she was like this. At first
    she had tried to tell herself what she’d been
    taught in Sex Ed: that masturbation was OK and
    that everyone did it, that it was natural to explore
    your own body, but deep down she knew her
    appetite for pleasure was unnaturally voracious.
    By twenty-four, you’d think she’d have discovered
    all there was to find on her trim runner’s
    physique and gotten bored, having explored every
    curve of her silken skin for almost a decade, but
    Allie had the wanderlust of a Columbus—always
    seeking new and more pleasurable horizons.
    Unfortunately, her desire to touch from sea to
    shining sea was so overwhelming that it had led
    to some pretty embarrassing situations, which in
    turn led to her being plagued by guilt. She was
    miserable and frustrated on the best of days. She
    hated herself on the worst, her mind spinning with
    the cruel taunts she’d endured in high school
    after she had been caught masturbating in the
    locker room. Her college roommate’s horrified
    screams when she had caught her borrowing her
    vibrator still rang in Allie’s ears when she closed
    her eyes. She had tried psychotherapy only to be
    turned away by her analyst after one of his
    missing Cross pens fell from between her legs
    when she uncrossed them.
    Transference, he had said. Or something like that.
    When she closed her eyes at night, there was still
    only one thing she wanted to do. It wasn’t sleep.
    But even in the privacy of her own apartment,
    behind a bedroom door that had no need of being
    locked, in a place where she was free to pleasure
    herself, she could no longer enjoy it. And
    whenever she was with a man—which wasn’t as
    often as it could’ve been with looks like hers—
    well… she’d discovered that most men her age
    were still boys. Those who weren’t of the “wham
    bam thank you ma’am” variety made her too
    nervous with their constant need for reassurance.
    If she had a dime for every time her last boyfriend
    had ruined the moment by asking “did you come
    yet?” she wouldn’t have needed to take a job.
    She was glad for her work at the firm, though.
    Not only did it pay well for part-time, I’m-still-
    finishing-my-Bachelor’s-Degree-type labor, but
    the law office of Williams, Williams and Lowe was
    always busy. The work kept her mind occupied
    and her hands too busy during the day to become
    idle and seek to “do the Devil’s work.”
    The file could’ve waited until tomorrow. She could
    have left it on his desk, gone home, watched
    whatever reality TV show was on, and then
    frantically and fruitlessly masturbated to fantasies
    of her office crush as she had done practically
    every night since she first saw him. Instead, she
    pulled up to the curb in front of Mr. Lowe’s
    stately Tudor home, put her aging Civic in park,
    and sighed.
    Even the Devil himself would’ve given up on
    making her come by now, and she knew she was
    tempting her demons by making this delivery in
    person. John Lowe, Jr., the youngest partner at
    the firm, was a very beguiling devil indeed, one
    who sparked her wicked urges with the slightest
    glance of his piercing green eyes. The office
    rumors about him didn’t make things any easier.
    Word around the water cooler was that he was
    into some pretty strange stuff.
    One thing Allie thought was strange was the fact
    that he made a six-figure salary and didn’t hire
    someone to mow his lawn for him. There he was,
    this curiosity of a man, bare-chested and
    sweating with grass clippings clinging to his
    ankles. His green eyes flashed in the August
    sunlight when they caught sight of her coming up
    his driveway and a dazzling smile came to his full
    lips. As the mower died, the sounds of cicadas
    wound up to match the growing thrum in her
    loins.
    “Good afternoon, Allison,” he said in his soft
    baritone, an almost imperceptible twang revealing
    the Mississippi roots he’d left behind in favor of
    an ocean breeze. “You didn’t have to come all
    the way out here. Did those assholes not give you
    my personal fax number? The Donalds get a kick
    out of being cruel to new hires.”
    Allison chirped a little laugh. “No, sir, I mean they
    gave me your fax number, sir, but I know how
    important this case is.” Allie blushed as she held
    the thick manila envelope out to him. She prayed
    that he’d think it was simply the heat bringing
    the color to her face. “I knew I wouldn’t be able
    to sleep tonight unless I put this in your hand
    myself.”
    “Well, we wouldn’t want that,” John said. His
    fingers brushed against hers as he took the
    envelope. “With how hard we work you and your
    classes, I’m amazed you’re still on your feet. How
    many hours you taking this semester?”
    Allison thumbed the moisture on her finger. His
    sweat , she thought. She began to feel moist
    elsewhere at the thought of rubbing that sweat in
    someplace other than on her thumb.
    “Eighteen,” she said. “But they’re pretty easy.”
    “Maybe pretty easy for a girl like you,” John
    replied with a smile which was more than just a
    touch on the wolfish side. He wiped sweat from
    his brow with his free hand. “Sure is hot out
    here.”
    Oh yeah, she thought. He’s totally flirting with
    me. That much of the rumor is true. I wonder
    about the rest…
    “You thirsty?” He asked.
    Allison hadn’t been, but her mouth suddenly went
    dry. “A bit.”
    “My housekeeper makes the best lemonade,” John
    said. “It would be a crime to let you leave without
    having a glass on such a hot day.”
    She couldn’t let this happen. This was a good
    job. Might even turn into a career once school
    was over. She shook her head. “I’ve got some
    studying to do for my Legal Ethics class tonight.”
    “At the U?” John cocked his head. “You enjoying
    the class?”
    Allison frowned. “It’s kinda dull.”
    John smirked. “You know I helped write the
    curriculum for it, right?”
    Allison’s eyes widened. “Err… no.”
    “Don’t worry. I wrote the fun parts,” John said.
    He chuckled. “I promise I was just as bored
    writing it as you are learning it. You wanna know
    everything you really need to know? The one
    practical thing Dr. Harding will never tell you
    about legal ethics?”
    Allison nodded.
    “In order to be able to sleep at night, a lawyer’s
    ethics must be flexible. ”
    “How about yours ?” Allison chuckled, then
    realized what she had said. “I mean… would you
    ever tell a class that?”
    John’s smile widened. “Tell you what. Why don’t
    you come inside? Have a glass of ice cold
    lemonade, and I’ll teach you all you need to
    know.”
    OK, Allison, she thought. Sure he’s a notorious
    flirt and GOD is he hot, but can you seriously turn
    down an offer to be tutored by a man who made
    partner at thirty?
    “Well, I suppose that’d be OK,” she said.
    “Great,” John said. “I was hoping you’d opt to
    come into the air-conditioning. This heat is about
    to kill me.”
    Allison followed him to his front door. He opened
    it and held it for her. When the refrigerated air hit
    his glistening chest, John’s nipples jumped to
    attention. He sighed.
    “Ah… air-conditioning. The pinnacle achievement
    of Western civilization,” John said as he strolled
    through the house toward the kitchen. “This
    way.”
    Allison followed, surprised at her own lack of
    hesitance. When they reached the kitchen, John
    pointed to a cupboard. “Glasses are up there.
    Lemonade’s in the fridge. I’d get it for you myself,
    but as you can see…” He raised his hands,
    showing their filthy state. “Pour us each a glass.
    I’m gonna hop in the shower and get some of this
    dirt and grass off of me.”
    Allison nodded and John disappeared from the
    room. She was thirsty, so she helped herself to
    the lemonade. John wasn’t lying. It was indeed
    the best she’d ever had. She poured herself
    another glass, poured one for John, and walked
    back to the living room. She sat on his sofa, the
    brown leather cool against her tan legs.
    She surveyed the room, which was pretty much
    exactly what she thought a lawyer’s living room
    would look like: giant flat screen TV, shelves of
    old books and golfing trophies, and leather. Lots
    and lots of leather. She was running her palm
    across the couch, wondering how much it cost
    when she heard the shower cut on.
    The thought of John, naked and steaming from a
    hot shower, immediately changed her thoughts
    about the sofa from how much it cost to how the
    leather would feel against her nipples if John bent
    her over and fucked her on it. Before she even
    realized she was doing it, Allison had placed her
    hand between her legs and had begun to
    massage herself.
    What the fuck are you doing, Allison? She
    thought. This can’t happen. You NEED this job!
    You can’t be here when he gets out of the
    shower. Get up. Go. Now!
    Allison practically vaulted from the couch. She
    turned to leave, but then how would it look if she
    was just gone when John came back? She’d have
    to let him know she was going. It would be rude
    to just leave. Summoning all her willpower, she
    headed down the hall toward the sound of running
    water.
    “Mr. Lowe?” she shouted. “I forgot I’m meeting a
    friend for dinner tonight. I have to go. Thanks for
    the lemonade. It was delicious!”
    She could barely hear John’s response. “What? I
    can’t hear you. I’ll be out in a minute.”
    Allison ventured closer. She turned the corner and
    saw that the bathroom door stood open. John
    stood behind a frosted glass shower door
    lathering his body with soap, his back turned
    toward her. Even obscured by the glass, the sight
    of his trim, well-muscled figure was more than
    she could take. Allison pressed herself against the
    wall and squeezed her eyes shut.
    Don’t do this, Allison!
    She opened her eyes and leaned forward, peering
    around the doorjamb. She couldn’t take it
    anymore. Lifting her skirt with her left hand, she
    placed her right between her thighs and found her
    panties were already soaked. She gently pulled
    them aside and then rubbed her clitoris, making
    slow, tingling circles.
    John chuckled, which made Allison jump. She
    quickly smoothed her skirt down.
    “I said I have to go I’m meeting someone for
    dinner,” Allison blurted and began to turn.
    “I thought only guys liked to watch,” John said
    and then turned off the water.
    Allison stopped, frozen in her tracks. Her heart
    pounded in her chest. She turned back around.
    “What?”
    “Most voyeurs are men.” John wrapped a towel
    around his waist, opened the shower door and
    stepped out. “So unless that’s a cock you were
    playing with, you come from a different mold.”
    Fuck! Allison thought. Well, I guess that’s that.
    So long potential career.
    She lowered her eyes, ashamed. “I’m sorry, sir.
    Please don’t fire me.”
    “Fire you?” John laughed. “Do you think you’re
    the first temp I’ve made wet? Honey, you’ve got a
    lot to learn about the way the world works.”
    She looked up at him. “You’re not going to fire
    me?”
    “Well, that depends,” John said, the subtle twang
    returning to his voice. “You come?”
    Allison blushed. “No.”
    “Then you’re fired,” John said and then smirked.
    He dropped his towel. “Unless you think you can
    manage to do it in the next five minutes. I’m a
    busy man.”
    Allison looked at his manhood which was already
    beginning to swell and her body flooded with
    warmth again. She reached for the hem of her
    skirt but then stopped and shook her head. “I
    can’t.”
    “I was kidding about firing you,” John said. He
    dropped his eyes and picked up his towel. “Sorry
    to disappoint.”
    “No, sir. It’s not you. It’s me. Something’s… I…”
    She began to tear up. “I’m broken.”
    John began to dry himself off. “No, you’re not.”
    “But I-”
    “You’ve come before, right?” John wrapped the
    towel around his waist and then fixed her with an
    icy stare.
    “Yes, sir,” she said. “I just can’t anymore. It
    doesn’t work. I get close, but…”
    “But something always happens. You feel wrong.
    You feel guilty,” John said. “You feel dirty.”
    Allison closed her eyes and nodded.
    “And no matter what anyone tells you, you still
    know that it’s wrong.” John continued to stare at
    her as he moved closer. “Even if that someone is
    me, right?”
    “Yes.”
    John stopped right in front of her. “Do you trust
    me, Allison?”
    “Sure,” she said, cocking her head to one side
    slightly.
    John shook his head. “Do you really trust me? I
    want to try something and it won’t work if you
    don’t.”
    John smiled gently. He stroked her face.
    “Everything will be alright. I promise.”
    Allison looked into his deep green eyes. There
    wasn’t a trace of malice behind them. If anything,
    he looked concerned. Maybe even a little afraid.
    “OK,” Allison said.
    It was like flicking a switch. John’s smile didn’t
    fade. It simply flashed off. “So you actually think
    you know more than me, huh?”
    “What?”
    “That when I tell you that I know you can come,
    you still think I’m wrong. How arrogant,” John
    said through clenched teeth. “You think you know
    everything, don’t you?”
    She couldn’t meet his gaze. “No.”
    He grabbed her hair in his left hand and pulled
    her head back. “Arrogant and disrespectful.”
    Allison drew a sharp breath. “I don’t mean any-”
    “Then when you answer me, you say ‘yes, sir,'”
    John said, his breath hot on her cheek.
    “Understand?”
    “Yes… sir.”
    Allison shuddered. It was as if saying those two
    simple words made everything OK. She was
    amazed at how easily they came out, at how
    much she wanted them to come out. Her
    breathing became heavy as he gently stroked her
    cheek. His hand slithered down her neck to her
    breast and he began to thumb her erect nipple
    through her blouse.
    “It’s time you admitted something to yourself,
    Allie,” John said. “Something you’ve been
    ashamed of your entire life. Something you’ve
    been told was wrong… Look at me.”
    She glanced up at him, but couldn’t hold his
    gaze. He jerked her hair hard. Allison yelped and
    then opened her eyes, gazing into those green
    orbs of his.
    “Allison Sherrard,” John said, “you are a dirty…
    fucking… whore.”
    She sighed and closed her eyes. John jerked her
    hair again. “Say it!”
    “I’m… I’m a dirty whore,” she said, and then
    something unexpected happened. She smiled.
    “You left out the part about what whores do,” he
    said. “They fuck . Say ‘I’m a dirty fucking whore.”
    “I’m a dirty fucking whore,” she said, then quickly
    added, “sir.”
    “Very, very good,” John said. Her roughly hiked
    her skirt up and cupped her swollen crotch. “See?
    You’re so wet you’re about to drip on my nice
    clean floor. Open your mouth.”
    Allison let her eyes close as he gently inserted
    two moist fingers into her mouth. Instinctively,
    she began to suck, tasting herself on his fingers.
    “Mmm…”
    “Good?” John smiled. Allison responded by
    sucking harder. She grabbed his hand and tried to
    thrust the fingers further into her mouth. She felt
    John let go of her hair.
    SMACK!
    Allison yelped. She could already feel the color
    creeping into her skin where John had struck her
    thigh.
    “Do you think you’re in charge here or
    something?” John asked, returning his fist to her
    hair. “If so, you are dead wrong. When you’re in
    charge, you fuck things up. You can’t even
    manage to make yourself come! You do what I
    say, when I say… and nothing more.
    Understand?”
    “Yes sir.”
    “On your knees, whore,” John said and forced her
    to the ground. Taking his towel in one hand and
    the blonde hair of his prize in the other, he began
    to walk. Allison crawled obediently beside him
    into the living room. When they reached the
    leather couch, he sat down and sank into it. She
    began to crawl into his lap and was immediately
    rewarded with a sharp slap across her buttocks.
    “Do you think I want that wet whore cunt on my
    Italian leather sofa?” John pushed her back to her
    knees and then forced her face to the floor. “That
    wasn’t a rhetorical question.”
    “No,” Allison said, her lip beginning to quiver.
    John smacked her buttocks again. “What?”
    “No, sir. Sorry, sir.”
    “You’re quite the insolent one. It’s time someone
    taught you some manners,” John said. He stood
    behind her, reached down, unzipped her skirt and
    pulled it and her panties down around her knees.
    “Wait here.”
    “Yes, sir,” Allison said breathlessly.
    As John left the room, Allison kicked off her skirt
    and panties then immediately began to rub her
    clit, hard and fast.
    My God! She thought. This is what I’ve needed. I
    am sooooo close. Please let me come!
    Though she rubbed furiously, she was unable to
    bring herself to climax. She was still trying when
    John returned.
    “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” John
    shouted.
    Allison looked up. Her lips moved but no words
    would come out. “I- I-”
    “You think you’re the boss again, don’t you?”
    John said as he loomed over her. He let his belt
    unfurl from his hand and waved it in front of
    Allison’s wide eyes. “It’s time you learned who
    the boss really is. Get your face back on that
    floor now!”
    Allison complied, trembling with both fear and
    desire.
    “Grab your ankles, sweetie,” John said, almost
    lovingly.
    A puzzled look crossed Allison’s face, but when
    the first blow landed, she understood. She was
    going to have to hang on to something to make it
    through this.
    John swung the belt and it slapped against her
    buttocks with a startlingly loud report. Allison
    cried out, her voice sounding like the chirp of a
    strange bird. He swung again and again, raining
    down blows on her backside until it felt like she
    was on fire. Just when she thought she couldn’t
    take anymore, he stopped.
    “Learned your lesson?”
    Tears streamed down Allison’s face. “I’ve learned,
    sir! I’ve learned!”
    “Good,” he said as he knelt beside her. “Do you
    like my belt, Allison?”
    “No, sir,” she said and meant it.
    “It can be painful, yes,” he said, “but it can bring
    pleasure, too.”
    Draping the belt between Allison’s legs, John
    grabbed it at both ends and pulled it tight across
    her crotch. “Go ahead,” he said. “You’ve earned a
    little reward.”
    The feel of the leather strap tight across her
    pussy was unbelievable. She squeezed her eyes
    shut in ecstasy and rocked her hips up and down,
    feeling the belt rub against her clitoris, becoming
    hotter than she’d ever felt before. Just as she
    was about to come, John snatched the belt away.
    Allison mewled like a wounded animal.
    “Poor thing,” John said as he gently lifted her
    head from the floor and brought her back into a
    kneeling position. He flopped onto the couch
    beside where she knelt. “You’ve been very good,
    but you haven’t quite earned it yet.”
    When Allison opened her eyes, she saw that
    John’s towel had slipped to the floor. His cock
    was fully engorged, bright red, and throbbing with
    desire.
    “I’m not going to fuck you, if that’s what you’re
    wanting,” John said. “I don’t do condoms and I
    sincerely doubt you’re on the pill. Are you?”
    When she began to shake her head no, John took
    her face between both palms and stopped her.
    “I thought not, but that’s OK. You couldn’t have
    known, so I’m not going to punish you,” he said,
    then began guiding her face toward his massive
    erection. “You seemed to want to suck on things
    earlier. Now would be the time for that.”
    Allison didn’t have to be told twice. She eagerly
    leaned forward and took his throbbing cock into
    her mouth, the salty taste of his sweat and pre-
    ejaculate making her shiver. She took his cock as
    far as she could into the back of her throat,
    making herself gag a little, then using her saliva
    as lubricant, she grabbed his cock with her left
    hand and began to gently twist as she sucked.
    “Oh my GOD!” John shuddered. “You’re very good
    at that, Allie.”
    Allison, remembering her manners, stopped long
    enough to thank him—”Thank you, sir”—and then
    plunged her mouth back over his cock. Continuing
    to suck and stroke him with her left hand, she
    moved her right to her clitoris. John was so busy
    enjoying her handiwork that he didn’t even seem
    to notice when Allison began to moan, too, but
    try as she may, she could not bring herself to
    come, even when he exploded into her mouth.

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