Stories Quint Boss
A commissioned story for Gammatelier, a sequel to a story by Pozzo.
The new manager is bossy and demanding, but she is also completely limbless and devoid of a head! For Part 2, this time around we see the morning after through Karen’s eyes… or in her shoes… or whatever! Can these two stumble into something more than a one-night stand?
I returned to the challenge of writing a deafblind character, this time with just a touch of sci-fi, and far fewer limbs. I wanted to make Karen’s cool exterior and lack of expression in the original story a limited facade of a strong, no-nonsense, yet insecure woman. The romance aspects are also a challenge for me, but I hope that I learned a few things in Life Together.
-
Part 1
-
Part 2
Part 1 Meet the New Boss
This story is by Pozzo, and you can find the original on Gamma’s site, and on Pozzo’s FurAffinity gallery
A small, black hair man with a freshly tanned complexion and a shabby grey suit stood alone in the elevator. Coming back to work after a vacation was always a depressing business. Fergus Kelly had been pining for his little hotel room in Santa Barbara almost immediately. Well that, and the hot So Cal sun, and the coast and the food… but mostly, he had to admit, it was not being here, in his crummy office job with broken air con and a terrible boss-
Fergus, shifting from one foot on to the other as the elevator travelled up to the marketing floor, paused mid-thought. Oh, that was right. His boss had been sacked. He’d gotten a text from his friend Sam about a day into his vacation. The third boss to go in a year. He silently clenched his fist and smiled. Rob had been an awful manager, somehow even worse than the two he had succeeded. He wouldn’t be missed by the staff, that was for sure, the Vernon Dursley lookalike tyrant. After a moment of quiet satisfaction, another thought hit Fergus. There would be a new boss waiting for him this morning. The fourth boss. He remembered reading that in Japan, four was an unlucky number, much like thirteen in the west. Fergus’s fist unclenched, and he cracked his knuckles, one after the other.
When he got to his floor he tried to gauge the mood of the room. Heads were down, workers either typing away or talking on the phone. This wasn’t a clear indication of anything really-work had just started after all. He checked his watch; it was just after nine. He hurried over to his computer. Sam was already typing away at the next computer. He was a thin, gangly man, like a scarecrow that had brushed up well. He grinned at Fergus as he sat down and mouthed a “hello.” This was a bad sign. Sam was usually a little work-averse, happy to chat and skirt the line with what he could get away with at work. It wasn’t like him to be so quiet.
“Good to be back.” Said Fergus, pulling his office chair up to his desk and flashing his friend a smile. Sam immediately looked around before raising a finger to his lips.
“Shhh! Wade will hear us.” He whispered, before pointing to his screen. He had surreptitiously brought up a little notepad on screen. Nodding, Fergus did the same, before typing a message:
“This is kinda weird.”
“New boss, and she’s a total battle-axe. Not to be effed with.”
“I thought you said Wade? Did you mean Wade Lambert?”
“He’s the boss’s assistant. Poor guy.”
“Assistant? And Wade’s a dick”
“Yeah, but…you’ll see.” Fergus’s brow furrowed. He tried not to type too loud as he tried to understand what was going on.
“You’ll s-”
That was all Sam managed to type before a door pushed open, and out walked Wade Lambert himself, looking decidedly unhappy. He barged past a few startled looking co-workers. As luck would have it, he happened to make eye contact with Fergus, and stopped in front of him. Wade was a large man with a black goatee and dark eyes. He was gruff and blunt, the sort of person who took rudeness for honesty. He had never liked Fergus, and the feeling had been mutual. The big man looked down at the smaller co-worker, and sneered at him.
“Bad luck, Fergus. You’re up.” He said, tilting his head at the open door. It leads into the manager’s office.
“Eh?”
“I quit. Boss wants a new assistant, and you’re it.”
“But-“
“I’d get in quick if I were you. She’s something else…”
Wade promptly pushed past the baffled office worker, before storming right out of the room. Everyone working craned their heads, watching the burly grump make his exit. Then, slowly, all heads swivelled until they were facing Fergus. It had gotten very quiet all of a sudden. He felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead.
“Tough luck, man.” Said Sam, shaking his head. “Hope she’s a little easier on you than Wade.”
“Jesus, Sam, who did we hire, Cersei Lannister?”
“I don’t watch that show.”
“You’re letting me down here, Sam.”
“Don’t panic, man, just don’t be a tool like Wade. Play it smart, keep calm, ok?” Fergus took a few deep breaths to pump himself up. “OK, anything I should know before I go in?” he asked. Sam hesitated.
“Nah, she’s just kind of a jerk. You can deal with that though.”
“You’re right. I eat jerks for breakfast.”
“That sounds unhealthy.”
“Please respect my lifestyle choices. OK, here I go…” He got up, walked a few yards, then stopped.
“And you don’t all have to watch me go, you’re making me nervous!” he said, addressing the room at large. Everyone present suddenly got back to work, the sound of keyboards chattering filling the air. Taking another deep breath, Fergus cautiously approached the door to the manager’s office and knocked on the door. There was no reply.
“Hello?” he said. It occurred to him that he had forgotten to ask the new boss’s name. Well, too late now. He poked his head in through the door. “I was told that you would be-“
He gasped. Then he put his hand over his mouth, not knowing how to react. Sitting on a comfortable looking swivel chair was a woman, dressed in a buttoned up grey suit and skirt combination. She had a sizeable bust, with a hint of a red bra poking out towards the centre of her chest. This was the biggest and most obvious clue that the new manager was female, as she was missing her head. Where a human head should have been, there was only a metallic looking disc sitting on her neck stump, a green light flashing occasionally. Her arms and legs were also totally absent; her suit jacket didn’t even have any sleeves, and her skirt was tucked in underneath her hips. She sat perfectly still, betraying no sign that she had even heard Fergus enter the room, her chest rising and falling the only sign of life. This was the dreaded new boss?
He stood there, halfway inside the room, looking at the living torso who had apparently terrorised the office these past two weeks. Fergus look back out at the office, looking for some sign that he had just fallen victim to an elaborate prank, but everyone had their heads down, working away. He walked into the manager’s room, shut the door behind him, and walked up to the chair’s occupant. She still did not move. Could she even talk? Did she even have any senses?
“Can you hear me?” he asked. There was no reply. Fergus started to feel faintly ridiculous. What was he supposed to do here, tap Morse code onto her shoulder and hope for the best? Feeling like he had no other option, he gently reached a hand out and, taking care not to startle her, patted his new boss on the shoulder. There was a palpable reaction; she squirmed very slightly before going still again. Then there was a vibrating noise on the desk to her side. Fergus saw a small, cheap looking mobile phone, the sort of cheap throwaway ones you used to see. He went over an picked it up. There was a new message:
Hmph. You took your time. Name?
The letters showed up in that exact style: heavy and bold, black lettering on a white background. Fergus looked at the screen, then back at the woman in the chair. He stared had at her. Had she just sent him a text? A few seconds later, the phone vibrated again, signalling a new message.
Hello? Urgh, the last guy did this as well. Yes, I’m talking to you, you dolt. Text me back.
The messages were coming far faster than any normal human could text by hand. Not having time to sit and ponder the mechanics behind it, he quickly fumbled out a reply.
“Hello my name is Fergus” he texted. He only had to wait a few seconds for a reply.
You’re my new assistant. From now on, I say and you do. Got it?
“Yes”
Good. Now go get me a coffee. Black.
Fergus hesitated. There was an obvious question to ask here… his fingers worked around the keypad again.
“Sorry but how do you drink?”
Through my butt.
“Really?” he texted back. The torso wiggled in her seat as a reply was sent to the cell phone.
No, obviously not you absolute dolt. There’s a hatch on my collar. Pour it down there, genius. Chop chop! Consider yourself under review!
Bewildered, Fergus stumbled out of the manager’s office, heading past his co-workers. As he passed his old desk, he heard a snigger.
“Thanks for the heads up, Sam”
“Hahaha. Well there was no head to give you a heads up about.”
“Piss off.”
A quick trip to the coffee machine later, Fergus sped back to the office with a fresh cup of black coffee. He picked up the phone in one hand and texted out a quick message.
“ok bk got ur coffee” he text. Then he put the phone down, although not fast enough to avoid the latest message.
Never type like that again. Now let me have that caffeine hit.
Putting the cup down for now, he walked over to the limbless, headless woman in the chair, examining her collar. There was, it turns out, two holes on top. One was covered with a mesh, and he could see it moving and rippling. He put a hand over it and felt her warm breath. The other hole was covered by a hatch, as she had said. He pressed a small grey button and it sprung open. Looking down it, he saw the dark red of her throat. He marvelled for a second and what he was seeing. It felt oddly intimate, peering down the open throat of a woman he’d only just met…
The phone vibrated again, spurring him into action. “Yeah, yeah…” he said to himself, grabbing the cup of now slightly cool coffee. He carefully poured some of it down the little hole, watching it disappear into the darkness. The torso twitched a little, and there was another message from the cell phone.
Don’t just tip it down my throat at once! It’s hot!
“Sorry!” blurted out Fergus, before remembering that his boss was effectively deaf. He quickly texted an apology before slowing the pace of his pouring down. There was no visible tongue, which meant that she probably couldn’t even taste the coffee- as she had said, this was probably just a caffeine hit for her. Was this how his day was going t go? Standing over a quintuple amputee-which was a thing now apparently- and pouring drinks down their neck? As it turned out, that was as peaceful as things got.
Now start up my computer. If you can even manage that. We’ve got work to do.
She shifted around in her seat, as if getting comfortable. Then she sent another text.
You’ve not even asked my name. How rude.
Crap, I totally forgot! Thought Fergus, before hastily grabbing the phone.
“Apologies. What is your name?”
Karen. Karen Clyne.
“Hello Karen.”
Is the computer on yet?
“It’s starting up”
Tell me when it’s on, then. And don’t call me Karen. I’m your boss, remember?
“Yes, Mrs Clyne.”
Ms. Clyne. Pull me up too, I feel like I’m about to slide off this cheap chair. Actually, mental note: order better office chair.
No wonder Wade only lasted two weeks of this…
For the next few days, what followed for Fergus was a bombardment of constant texts, both in and out of work. There was no small talk, no questions about his personal life, nothing that wasn’t related to Karen’s professional needs. He would get woke up at six in the morning, not by his usual alarm clock, but by that now-dreaded cheap mobile phone that he now had near his person at all times. He had gotten to know that repetitive, deadpan Bzzzzz noise, that forewarned him of his bosses latest message. From “I need you to print these out”, to “Please remind the team of these goals”, Fergus had found himself as the new ears, eyes and mouth of a faceless woman.
His old co-workers reacted to this with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. Fergus was generally liked in a vague “Yeah he’s ok” kind of way, and he was certainly more popular in his new role than Wade had been. But he was still the butt of a lot of jokes now.
“Hah, never thought I’d see you on your hands and knees for someone who has neither.” Joked Sam one day, catching Fergus as he managed to escape to the water cooler for a moment.
“Personally Sam I find that in very bad taste. I could have you reported you know.” Replied Fergus, who had removed his suit jacket to reveal a baby blue undershirt. “Think the boss would like that?”
“She’d probably fire me.” shrugged Sam. “But you’re too nice to do that to poor little me.”
“You’re like 6’7”
“I stand by my statement-look out, she’s behind you!” Fergus whirled round, then frowned as he heard his friend double over, in tears of laughter.
“Hahahaha! Yeah man she was just floating past you, I swear…”
“Eat me.” At that point, his phone buzzed. Fergus read the message. “Oh well, back at it. If this story spread I’m feeding you through the paper shredder.”
“Hahaha.”
Karen was waiting for him in her new chair, which had arrived in the morning. It was a large, cushioned number with absolutely no handrails for obvious reasons. Fergus was now expected to make some sort of physical contact with Karen when he was present, to let her know that he was actually there. Basically he was giving the signal for his own abuse, which he found quietly funny. He squeezed her shoulder gently, and a few seconds later she texted him.
Status update please.
“The emails have all been sent, staff seem to be working productively, moral good. Two new emails in the last hour.”
“Seem” to be? They either are productive or they aren’t. I need a better answer than that.
“I’ll make another check.”
The torso’s chest seemed to inflate, and then a gust of breath came out of Karen’s throat hole. The phone buzzed again.
Fine. Now, let’s attend to those emails.
She would text him her intended replies, a few sentences at a time, while he typed them into the computer. He didn’t know why she couldn’t just use her Wi-Fi to connect to the computer directly. Frankly he was afraid to ask, so he diligently transcribed all of her commands for her. It was a slow process. Boring as well. Once or twice he had texted her things like “So how are you” and been shot down with ruthless efficiency. It was more than just someone being harsh, as though Karen was absolutely determined not to reveal anything of herself to him. That, couple with what could be described as the world’s best poker face, made her a maddening mystery.
Lunch break was something of a blessing, once had had gotten the hang of feeding her. He’d give her soup (at least he never had to worry about choosing the right flavour, what with Karen’s lack of a tongue), followed by a cold drink, with a whole lot of coffee before and after it. It was fun to watch her little body shiver and jiggle as the caffeine hit her. Maybe that was why she was so cranky, he wondered. Too much of that stuff in her system, not way to vent the energy? He’d have to google that. In any case, Karen was usually quiet during these moments despite not really having to chew or anything. Maybe she too enjoyed the silence.
And when the day was over, she would be left in her chair. Apparently she had a dedicated nurse for her home life that came to collect her.
“I could carry you downstairs if you want.” Fergus had offered. This had been rejected.
I’m not going to have you stand around holding me in your arms like a baby!!! Karen had texted back, wiggling furiously. Eva is a professional, just let her do her job.
“Ok” he had text back.
Everyone would be staring. It would be mortifying.
“I get it. It’s fine.”
So he would leave here there, leaving the lights on. Again, Fergus had so many questions for Karen. Where did she live? Did she have family to take care of her too? But he knew his questions would fall on deaf ears, even if the torso had actually had any ears. Like all of the other mysteries about her, Fergus could only speculate. Perhaps one day she’d soften up to him, unlikely as it sounded. Fergus was a patient man with a high tolerance level for people like Karen. All he’d have to do was weather the storm…
More days passed. The storm got worse.
Idiot! Look at all these mistakes!
Fergus, we’re five minutes behind schedule! Move those arms and legs faster!
Bleh! This coffee tastes like mud!
The last one had been difficult. Fergus had no idea people without heads could do spit-takes, but apparently, they could. There must be a special muscle for that. He had calmly and efficiently dried up the mess before making Karen a new mug. Her mood remained caustic. It seemed like every little thing about him would set her off, to the point where Fergus frankly expected to get fired any moment now. But he was a patient man, and the job was a set up in terms of wages; he could take a few angry texts if it meant another few K per month.
Besides, Karen was just so… interesting. Sometimes he would stand in the doorway and watch her, even as she sent him important messages as she went about her job reviewing documents and making all those important managerial choices. In those moments, she seemed so peaceful, so still. Now that he was more used to her unique biology, he could appreciate little things, like how in-shape she looked for someone with no real ability to move outside of some wiggling. She must do a lot of crunches, he had decided. Someone like Karen would have the drive and discipline for that sort of thing. She was probably in better shape than Fergus.
In fact, one day he could confirm that.
It had been business as usual, which meant lots of typing, reading and coffee. They had been busy, which meant that the mug he had been gently pouring down her throat every so often had gone cold. She had been ranting about the workforce, Simon in particular; Fergus had wondered if she was doing that just to needle him. When he had tried to feed Karen some more, she reacted poorly, squirming and moving around in her chair. As it happened, her chest had bumped the still half-full coffee mug nearly out of Fergus’s hands, sending lukewarm black liquid all down the front of Karen’s suit and skirt. She started jerking and squiggling like she had just received an electric shock.
“Well, that’s that.” Fergus had thought to himself. “Bye bye, job.” So sure was he of his imminent termination that he considered not even looking down at the buzzing phone on the desk, and just walking right out of the building, just like Wade before him. He didn’t, though.
Did you just douse me with coffee?
Karen’s body was surprisingly calm. Fergus nervously picked up the phone.
“it was an accident. My apologies, will clean right away.” He texted back, before rushing out to the bathroom to grab some paper towels. The phone buzzed again midway there.
Accident?
“Yes, I bumped the cup against your chest.” Really it had been Karen bumping into him, but he wasn’t going to just out and blame her for this. He waited for more texts as he gathered towels.
They didn’t come. Indeed, when he got back, she was still sitting there, her clothes now rather soaked looking but looking so eerily calm. Once again, the lack of any sort of face made reading her emotions difficult, but this seemed like a pretty huge under-reaction. That worried Fergus. He got his phone out again.
“I’m gonna clean you now OK?” he said, standing over her.
What he got back from her nearly floored him.
My clothes are all wet. Take them off.
“What” Said Fergus, taking advantage of Karen’s lack of sight to make a ridiculous expression of surprise, then biting his lip. Bzzzz, went the phone.
I’ll catch pneumonia, I’m being serious. Do it now.
Oh, that was a good point actually. He hurriedly slid the small form of his boss out of her suit jacket. Karen was wearing a plain, no-nonsense white shirt underneath. Well, formerly white. The coffee had done a number on it. Fergus hesitated. She’d say something it she didn’t want him to-oh yeah, there she went.
Yes, shirt too. Don’t be a baby.
He took a deep breath.
“This is fine and normal.” He said aloud, before unbuttoning the shirt and pulling it upwards. The process was much easier when the person you were undressing didn’t have a head, he thought to himself wryly, before putting it on the floor alongside her jacket. At least she was wearing a bra, one that showed off her perky, well formed-no, that wasn’t what this was about get it together Fergus. He was a a professional and definitely not a weirdo. He looked down; he had still to get that skirt off now. He put his hands down on her waists, and she shivered very slightly, giving him pause once more.
Bzzz
Come on, come on…
Almost immediately, there was another buzz.
I mean hurry up and get these off before I catch a cold, you tool! If I get sick I’m taking legal action!
“All right, all right, geez.” Muttered Fergus, pulling his bosses skirt down in her office: a sentence that was much less sexy than the reality of the situation. At least she hadn’t fired him yet, he thought. Yet.. He looked down at her tiny form, half-naked and vulnerable as it sat on the chair. Despite her condition, Fergus had learned to find the sight of Karen vaguely intimidating. But now it really struck him how fragile she was. Her stumps, while mostly healed, till showed signs of the scars of her surgery, white marks making X signs in the woman’s skin. He was thankful he couldn’t see what her neck looked like now at least…
It occurred to Fergus that he should do something more than just stare, so he got to work cleaning her up with the paper towels he had retrieved. He could see bumps on Karen’s skin pop up as he brushed down the wet parts of her torso, which was mostly her shoulders and chest. He pressed the paper down on her right breast, near where it met her ribs, before moving down around the side into her cleavage. There was a sharp, short breath from the woman’s throat hole, but other than that, she gave no readable reaction.
When she was no longer covered in coffee, Fergus popped his own jacket off and placed her inside of it: she fit inside the whole thing.
What’s this? She asked.
“Just my jacket, haha, so you don’t get cold. What should I do now?” he asked. Her reply was unusually late, as though Karen was thinking. Inside his jacket he could see her try to stand up in the chair, almost like she was attempting to shrug it off.
I don’t want to work like this, replied Karen eventually. I must look ridiculous in that cheap jacket of yours.
“I’m sorry.”
Hmmph. No good. Take me home.
“Should I phone your carer?”
Just take me home, Fergus. Before I get mad.
“OK”
Smuggling her out of the office had been something of an exercise in stealth. He had wrapped Karen up entirely in his jacket, hiding her from the rest of the workforce, and the loitered by the doorway of her office room until he was sure that the least amount of people possible would see them. Then he darted past everyone, clutching his boss tight to his chest. He zoomed past a startled Simon who barely had time to register a hello before Fergus was gone, darting into an elevator that by the good grace of God was waiting open for them.
Karen had given him her address; she lived on the other side of town. Normally that would be a pain, but at least it wasn’t rush hour. He had made sure Karen was secured safely in the seat next to him. A terrible part of him had considered buying her a baby seat. An even worse part of him had thought about putting her in the trunk. Probably because she had continued to send him texts even though he was driving.
Don’t drive so fast! You’re a maniac!
“Stop texting me!” said Fergus out loud, thumping his steering wheel in frustration. “Christ!”. He took a long deep breath. Shouting and cursing wasn’t going to do anyone any good; she couldn’t even hear it. He let the buzzing of the phone fade of out into the background, unnoticed, as the torso girl squirmed in her seat. At least with his jacket on she had some of her dignity preserved. He wondered what a cop would think, should one pull up beside Fergus’s car and look through the widow. He hoped that he didn’t find out.
Thankfully, and for once in this rotten period of Fergus’s life, he got lucky. There were no incidents as he made his way smoothly to Karen’s home. She lived in a small, cosy looking building all on her own, as it turned out. There was no garden or lawns save for a hedge that was shared with her neighbour, and there didn’t appear to be any floors above the ground level. Which made sense when Fergus thought about it. He couldn’t really see Karen either making her way up any stairs or mowing any lawns by herself. He pulled up outside and picked up his poor, overworked phone.
“We’re here. Please don’t text while I’m driving thanks”
Thank god. OK, take me inside.
Fergus got out and soon had Karen cradled in his arms once more. He made his way to the porch. A thought occurred.
“Do you have a key?” he texted.
I sent Eva a message. She’s left a key under the mat.
Fergus looked. There was indeed a small key left there. He picked it up. Another thought occurred, and he fumbled for his phone, having to juggle it along with Karen and the key.
“Why didn’t you just get Eva to run you home?!”
Because I like Eva, and you were right there anyway. It’s your fault I had to come home anyway, you dolt!
Taking some deep breaths, Fergus unlocked the front door and carried his charge inside. He wandered into the living room and looked around, surprised. There was barely any decorations- the walls were painted white, and there were no mirrors, posters, paintings or anything else. It made sense when he started to think about it, of course. Someone as practical as Karen had no need for decorations. A part of him wondered if the house would look the same way even if she had a head…
“Where should I take you?”
My room. Down the hall. Get me changed.
Yikes. Well, this had been likely. Fergus was directed via increasingly abrupt texts to his boss’s bedroom. The bed there was far too large for a woman of Karen’s size, which was the one show of indulgence in an otherwise Spartan home. Everything else was extremely clean and orderly looking, no doubt thanks to the careful work of Eva. He placed Karen down gently on her bed. He thought for a bit about how to word his text.
“Do you have pyjamas”
There are comfy shirts in the drawers.
“Which drawer?”
Stop texting and start looking, I’m getting cold
The torso rolled gently around on the bed, trying to get comfortable as the out-of-his-depth office worker found himself rooting through her drawers. Work clothes, casual wear, and of course inevitably a drawer full of underwear. The second to last drawer was filled with oversized shirts- he picked out a black one and brought it over, removing the shirt she had been wearing, and started to pull it over Karen. His phone buzzed.
Too warm with my underwear on. Take those off too.
“Seriously.” He texted back, once the freeze that he’d felt in his chest had dissipated.
Do me. It.
Fergus read the text carefully. What an… interesting slip. He remembered how that worked- her thoughts were being directly translated into messages, right? Could that have just been a little Freudian slip?
What if it wasn’t?
Fergus?
“Ok two seconds.”
He turned Karen over so she was face down, so to speak, then unhooked her bra. His hands trembled as he worked, and in his state of now heightened paranoia about his boss and her thoughts, it seemed as though her torso was squirming at his touch. Where had this come from? He was imagining it, surely. Not Karen, the battle-axe from hell who had spent the last week hating his guts. No, clearly, he just had a dirty mind.
He turned Karen over again and lifted her bra off. Her breasts were now fully exposed, and now that they were free it was apparent how blessed the torso-girl was in that department. Fergus took a few deep breaths and tried to stay professional, averting his eyes, only to be met with her white cotton panties. He slipped a finger down the sides and Karen reacted instantly, squirming uncontrollably for several seconds like she’d just been electrocuted. A damp spot had very obviously formed in her panties. Fergus held his fingers there, paralyzed and unsure how to proceed. But he had no choice. He slid the garments off of Karen, and then she was nude. Her slit was clearly glistening as Karen wiggled some more on the bed. She had a finely trimmed cut of blonde pubic hair- Fergus would only later twig that this meant Karen would have been a blonde with a head. Right now he was a little distracted.
Zombie-like, Fergus slowly reached out a hand… and grabbed the black shirt on the bed. Then he carefully fitted it down over Karen’s shoulders and pulled it over the rest of her, covering up his boss once more, before breathing a sigh of relief. For a moment there, he had to admit there had been a shameful stirring in his pants. Seeing her naked, just a torso, not even a head! Naked and vulnerable in a way he’d never seen a woman before. And with how she had been acting- or at least, how he had started to think she had been acting. That was the thing, Karen was so hard to read that you could project all sorts of things onto her actions. Fergus shook his head, chastising himself for this. At least now he could concentrate. Hopefully she’d be back to her usual self.
His phone went off.
That’s it? Really?
What.
“??” he texted back. The torso had stopped wiggling around so much, wrapped up in the oversized black shirt that would have went down to just above Karen’s knees had she still had knees.
You dense motherfucker. You absolute clueless gibbon.
This string of insults actually went on longer- Fergus had to interrupt her mid-flow, reeling from this unexpected turn. He was starting to regret wishing that Karen would go back to her old self now.
“What did I do?”
How much more obvious do I have to be you blithering idiot?! Do I have to spell it out for you? Because I will.
“Karen I’m sorry I don’t understand”
F
U
C
K
M
E
Fergus got the message around about the letter C, and waited for Karen to finish before responding with his own spelling contest entry.
“W. A. T.” He watched as the torso in front of him tried to wiggle in his direction. Somehow it looked angry, the wiggles full of purpose as she inched towards where she imagined her assistant was standing. The constant vibrations of the phone in his hand only made her seem angrier.
What, you think that coffee spill was an accident? You dolt. I’ve been trying to get your attention since day one. Most guys would have picked up on it, but you’re just a precious cinnamon roll who can’t take a hint.
“You mean that was you flirting? Lol.”
Don’t lol at me, Fergus!
The torso, “crawling” on her stomach, had a few seconds of squirming, which Fergus interpreted as a sort of tantrum.
I can’t just… flirt with a guy? Not just cause I’m your boss. You know what I mean. It’s hard. You couldn’t understand. Don’t say you do. You don’t.
It was hard to argue with, not when his previously ice-cold boss was being so sincere with him. He picked her up, gently, and gave Karen a hug. There was a risk of being patronising here, but he felt instinctively this was the right call for now. He held her there. The texts stopped, leaving the two with a moment of calm. He felt her naked chest rising and falling against his own, so close that he could feel her heart beat. When it slowed down into a calm rythmn, he held her lightweight body with one arm and picked up the phone with the other, wondering what to say given what her stated intentions had been. He’d never read a text from Karen the same way again now.
“You OK?”
I feel stupid. Urgh. Sorry. I’m a bit pent up.
“It’s OK.”
It’s not like I ask Eva to get me off or anything. I’m kinda. I need. I’d be grateful.
Fergus tapped his finger on the side of the phone thoughtfully. This had escalated rather quickly, in a way he had somehow not seen coming when she had asked him to take her home. Maybe he really was an idiot.
“You sure?”
If this is making you uncomfortable, I understand. I’m your boss, I know. Awkwaaaard.
“Do you promise not to send very angry texts if we do this.”
I’ll send the sweetest and cuddliest texts ever if you just hurry up and fuck me already.
There wasn’t really a text he could think of that didn’t sound lame in response to that. So Fergus didn’t bother. He just dropped the phone onto the floor, and then Karen onto the bed, letting her tiny form drop out of the shirt before throwing it away. He could see her shiver in anticipation as he undressed. Fergus had never been someone with a lot of confidence in his body, but that didn’t matter so much right now. In a way it was rather liberating.
When he was as naked as his boss (a sentence that would normally have sent him screaming out of a nearby window) Fergus knelt down next to the bed, so that his face was more or less level with Karen. He reached his hands out and let them travel around her body- his fingers traced themselves around her firm sides and front, moving over her chest freely. Karen squirmed helplessly. The phone started to vibrate, but for now Fergus wasn’t going to take any orders from Karen. He grabbed her suddenly and pulled her towards the edge of the bed, his face inches away from her slit, and helped himself to a taste.
The quintuple amputee reacted as much as was possible for someone with no arms, legs or head, all her available muscles contacting as Fergus lapped at her fold. His hands squeezed and spread the cheeks of her butt as he took his time, letting his tongue linger on certain spots, taking breaks between each lick. Occasionally Fergus would pull his face back and bring his fingers up to her labia, spreading Karen’s flower and admiring the view. She looked ready.
The assistant stood up, taking Karen with him. He was already hard, but he rubbed her body against himself for a little bit, both to get himself 100% erect and to let his boss know what was in store for her. He could hear his phone going like crazy, but he stood firm in denying her contact for now. When he felt the time was right, Fergus hoisted Karen into the air and held her there for a few seconds, before lowering her down onto his cock.
She slipped over his member and immediately he could feel her vaginal muscles clamp down on him, squeezing him for all she was worth. Fergus still had to do most of the work here; it was honestly more like a very advanced form of jerking off, pulling the torso up and then pushing her back down again over and over. At least she was light, even with those boobs of her. They jiggled up and down, looking much bigger than they probably were due to Karen’s unique body-shape. He reached his arms out and held the torso by her tits, supporting her body weight with his dick and the hands around her boobs.
“Hmph,” he groaned, feeling her sink deeper onto him. It occurred to him that Karen was deaf, and he took the opportunity to indulge in some dirty talk. “You feel great around my cock. Fuck.” He stopped, embarrassed at himself, before continuing. “I’m using my boss as a sex-toy. Hahaha. My boss is a sex-toy!” He had to stop himself from shouting it, but he had to admit, it felt hot to say that as he rode his boss like the toy he’d said she was.
He blinked. Uh oh, that had felt a little too good. He was close now, and quickly tried to pull out of his boss before he made the torso pregnant. He almost threw her onto the bed, Karen landing on her stomach “facing” Fergus. Thinking quickly, he pushed the button on her collar that opened up her throat, and plunged himself inside. He came quickly, blowing his load directly down into her stomach, practically holding her upside down as he milked himself dry with her. Tired, he collapsed onto the bed, withdrawing himself from his boss and wiping himself clean on her skin. He laid there on top of her for a few minutes.
Eventually he got up and retrieved the phone from the floor. He had some fun reading though the messages he had missed, which were a good thirty or so deep.
“Enjoy yourself, then?”
Yeah :)
“Not too rough I hope.”
Not rough enough. Next time don’t be so cautious.
“Next time?” he texted back, smiling.
Obviously. You’re staying the night, I assume?
Fergus looked down at the naked torso lady on the bed, glistening and red-skinned, as she arched her back and presented herself some more.
“I could do that.”
Part 2 Crossed Wires
Karen awoke to an empty bed, and she didn’t know what the hell she had expected.
As the vaguely vivid colors of her dreams evaporated to the blank, quiet morning and the persistent need to yawn, Karen chided herself for letting her guard down, for expecting more, for being so forward so soon after the disastrous end of her last assistant.
Of course the flake from work would just up and leave in the middle of the night, she thought. He hadn’t picked up any of her signals all yesterday, or for the week prior, and even though he was a good fuck — a great one, she begrudgingly admitted — there was no way a guy like him could understand her life, accept her as she was. He hadn’t even covered her properly, the prick!
Karen determined then and there, she was going to let him have it when she got into work. She couldn’t fire Fergus for this, HR would have a fit, but dead to rights, he was going to regret this one-night-stand more than she would!
Focusing on the ‘time’, an unfamiliar thought told her it was 7:14 in the morning.
“Eva where the hell are you? I need to get ready for work. 7am wakeup, has it ever been any different?” SENT
From what little she could discern for herself, the sheets were just barely covering her chest, at risk of slipping down to her belly. She didn’t usually sleep in the nude, wearing a tight tank-top at least, but not today. The room had a neutral chill to it, windless, empty, and she focused hard on the thermostat to adjust the temperature up a couple degrees. It responded with a confirmation that she had been heard, slightly foreign, slightly painful. The first few pings of the day always caught the augmented woman off guard, feeling that little invasion of her one remaining sacred space. Before long she felt the air start to circulate, sending goosebumps and shakes across her compact body.
But it was just the central heating, not the faint breeze of someone like Eva walking by. Or fucking Fergus. For a bitter second she was thankful to be blind, the old Karen would have never put up with someone so clueless for long enough to learn how good he was in bed. Yet why the hell had he left?
There weren’t any texts waiting for her, she could feel that much, and she barely held herself back from sending the ruinous thoughts worming through her fuming head.
No, not head, Karen thought, but the quintuple amputee had long-since flown a white flag trying to root out all the body-normative sayings she let slip on the daily. She wondered impatiently just how many years it would take her to get used to this situation… more than a decade, it seemed. She would have been her assistant’s age when—
Karen felt a jab in her thoughts and she squirmed in bed, the sheets brushing across her smooth hips and tickling at the slit between. It was Eva.
Sorry Ms. Clyne, your friend is making us some breakfast, I’ll be right up.
So he hadn’t left.
Karen steadied herself, as she always had to when realizing the world around her was yet again diametrically opposed to what she had guessed. This wouldn’t do.
Create a group message to Eva and Fergus, “So you’re both talking in my home without me. Masters of courtesy you are.”
Good morning to you too, I wanted to let you sleep. You know I’ve never put eggs in a blender before.
A blender, first thing in the morning… Karen could live without hearing…
“Since when are you in charge of my morning routine, Fergus? Those are my eggs youre blending.”
No, I couldn’t sleep so I ran out early to get some groceries. All you have in the fridge is formula and smoothie bottles.
Bleh, Karen still had a small patch of her tongue left in the end of her throat, right near the opening, and the formula didn’t inspire much love from that last remnant of her lost sense of taste. It got the job done, though. Luckily, Eva alternated the simple vitamix with warm soups and broths, but they must have been out.
A hand touched Karen’s shoulder and she shook in silent surprise. It was hard to have two conversations going at once. The house around her was suddenly feeling very busy.
“Eva, bath, now! I will be late if you don’t pick up those damn feet.”
It seemed her carer had gotten the message as the covers were pulled off her tiny form, but a pair of panties were easily slipped over her hips, the central strip having to be positioned so her privates stayed that way. What was Eva doing?!
“I don’t need these! Wash me!”
But Karen received no reply as she was sat up onto her hips, feeling a loose cotton shirt pulled over her with the familiar coolness in the armpits and neck, before being picked up into Eva’s recognizably-gentle grasp, feeling her chest press up against her assistant’s and her mons rest right on the carer’s hip bone in a shamefully satisfying way, while the younger woman’s arm wrapped around her, steady, safe, three feet in the air with nothing to break her fall if Eva slipped. But she never had in two and a half years of dedicated service.
She had also never disobeyed an order.
“Where are we going? I told you I need a bath!”
Karen was confident she smelled ripe after the three rounds of passion the night before. She had been told armpits didn’t really smell if they were uncovered like hers, but she had no way of knowing, and that’s not really what she worried about anyway. Eva was silent as they walked… Karen couldn’t make out direction if she tried, but the vibration of each step bumping into her pussy was maddeningly distracting.
There was no response, the phone was likely in Eva’s pocket. Fuck.
The truth was, on a normal morning the two barely talked. She liked Eva for her efficiency, never leaving her client idle for longer than a few moments, having everything ready and in place seemingly before Karen was even awoken. And being deaf and blind, Eva could work for hours in preparation and Karen would be none the wiser. That “feature” had been comforting until she realized Fergus had been up for an hour or two, wandering her house without her, knowing more about the contents of her fridge than she did.
Eva’s gentle hands set her down in what felt like one of the high chairs at the kitchen island. She wasn’t totally sure, she hadn’t sat there in ages. Karen nervously squirmed, feeling her bare butt cheeks slipping off the unfamiliar perch…
“Eva!” “Eva!” “Eva!” “Eva!” “Eva!”
But her carer was already fastening a belt to keep her in place, cinching it tight, secure around her waist. Karen breathed a sigh of relief and her breasts rested on the countertop, cool through the t-shirt.
Good morning. Fergus’ heavy hand touched her shoulder, warmly, and Karen found herself not immediately shrugging it off, waiting for what his other hand had to say. I’m going to feed you breakfast and then I promise I’ll get out of your hair.
Karen frowned, or thought of frowning. Food came last in her routine, not first. And yet…
“Fine. This better not sour my stomach. You two use your phones. Don’t talk over me. Eva, answer your damn phone when I speak to you. Fergus, I thought you had left already.”
I thought texting might wake you up.
“Well you didn’t ask, did you?”
He asked when I walked in, but we got to talking.
It was incredibly difficult to discern the text streams coming into her thoughts, especially so early; who was who, etc, so Karen had to just take it contextually. And she picked up on more than anyone could guess a woman in her situation would, that was her secret to success in business: her perceptual ability — or more accurately her ability to infer in lieu of perceiving all the details a head with all its senses might. The lowered expectations helped too.
For example: Eva, who was always so professional and efficient, had now totally lost track of time and potentially left her phone in the kitchen, her one lifeline to her client. The only variable was Fergus, so either Eva was easy or Fergus was good-looking. Karen didn’t know why she cared, it didn’t necessarily matter what he looked like. The way he held her yesterday, dashing out of the building, getting in her home, fulfilling almost every request she sent without even looking at her messages, it had almost wholly satisfied what few senses remained. He probably was quite handsome, then…
Oh you’re wearing the shirt I tried to put you in last night. It looks good on you.
Karen squirmed in her seat, hoping her collar light wasn’t blinking any faster in lieu of a blush. He had seen more of her than she had let anyone but Eva in… months. Speaking of which, the carer scooted her chair back and Karen’s breasts fell off the lip of the—
She distinctively felt her nipples clip the edge of the stone. They were rock hard. They had been tenting her shirt the whole time! He had been making fun of her and Eva was covering the evidence of her distractions. That fucking adolescent, where did he get off??
“It’s cold in here! Breakfast. Now. I don’t have time for this.”
The distinctive click of her esophageal hatch opening cut through the imagined chuckles her two employees were undoubtedly having at her expense, but that was soothed by a warm slurry getting poured down her throat, slowly but steadily. The little taste she gathered didn’t seem egg-like, but that didn’t say much. Regardless, it was pleasant. Gradually she felt more and more full, breathing steadily out of the other port’s filter as she “ate”, imagining swallowing so her body would accept the chunky stream of foodstuffs.
Fergus held her shoulder, right on the faded scars, the place where sensations collided and her arm ceased to be. His hand was steady. Was she just imagining their heckling? They weren’t texting. Oh, Karen hated second-guessing herself like this!
“Eva, can you go draw a bath? If I’m going to be late, I want to make it count.”
Yes Ms Clyne. Eva patted her shoulder to indicate she was leaving.
Karen ‘nodded’ her neck forward, the trained cue to feed more, and Fergus followed suit, pouring more in, shifting his hand to hold the base of her neck steady, firm.. It tasted better on a second helping, but still whatever receptors remained didn’t quite taste the eggs. She twisted her chest side to side to say “no more”, suddenly aware of how such a simple gesture of refusal agitated her breasts without proper support. It wasn’t good to eat too much before a bath, and she didn’t need much these days, anyways.
“You’ve got some nerve taking over my morning like this.”
You asked me to stay the night.
“Is it still dark out, Fergus? Please do let me know. Silly me can’t really tell these days.”
Didn’t you say something about sweet and cuddly texts?
“You filled that prescription last night. Now it’s expired.”
I’ll have to visit the doctor’s again soon, then.
Karen barely stifled a chuckle. He was being far too corny for how early it was. “Get out of my house Fergus. If you’re at work after me I’ll have you replaced.”
Karen’s assistant and lover brought his warm lips to the crook of her neck, or what was left of it, just where she had asked him to last night, kissing, exploring, enjoying her skin, and she felt the familiar tightness grow warm against the pressure of her seat. He reached below the countertop and gently pinched one of her still-firm nips, making her emit a harsh gasp out of her neck.
This was… too much! His hands cradled her waist below the security strap firmly, confidently, his kiss hot and all-encompassing across her reduced surface area. Karen’s furnace lit anew and so did her frustration. At this rate, she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in the slightest all day!
Just when she was about to shrug him off as violently as a limbless torso could, his touch left her, vanishing back into the emptiness around her.
Yes ma’am.
She was alone again before she could even imagine the door closing, isolated in her own home, the moisture of his kiss now too cool in the empty air. Collecting herself, Karen called for Eva to get her ready for the day.
“And put on a pot of coffee already.”
The boss settled her butt into the comfy office chair she had bought last week, her rear firmly planted, in control. She had to admit, the hip fillers keeping her lower terminus round and taut had been a stroke of genius by the surgeons who had saved her life all those years ago. As someone who now spent her life sitting, she rarely minded anymore.
Karen waited impatiently, the mere moments since Eva’s touch had left her slipping by, moments wasted. Her phantom limbs had long-since evaporated, but still she imagined tapping her foot. How it might echo in the—
The warm hand on her shoulder still startled her, residual neck muscles tensing instinctually to ‘look’, turning nothing but the metal collar slightly left, her lights flickering in surprise. Karen instead focused on the phone she had given him, not so much connecting as suggesting it say:
“You’re late. You were made well aware of the repercussions.”
Karen knew her intentions wouldn’t be clear to Fergus, and to a certain degree they were also a mystery to herself. Was she coy or sincere? She was undoubtedly still his supervisor, but would he be more than her employee? Their working relationship had to be renegotiated, but hopefully not here.
You’re one to talk, it’s half past ten. Also I was sitting at my desk when you rolled in.
“I was at the dentist.” Karen thought before stifling a laugh. It would only shake her chest for him and make her messages come out practically dyslexic. Another side effect.
Damn it. Your cover is better than mine.
“Let’s hear it, then. As your direct report, I have the right to know.”
I was too enamoured with my new pillow. Couldn’t get out of bed.
Karen was taken aback, but with nothing else to do she just froze in place, her breath even hitched a bit. His pillow?? Fergus’s hand on her shoulder went from warm to oppressive in an instant. She remembered his… presence in bed, his body heat emanating from somewhere to her left. The few times Fergus had tried to wrap her in his arms and cuddle her in place, she had shrugged him off and twisted and squirmed restlessly, his furnace too hot to bear, her steamy exhalations reflected back by the overhang of his head, her collar even partially blocked by his actual pillow. Fuck that.
She was ready for jokes… but not this.
“Get out.”
I don’t understand.
“You’ve already proven you don’t. Now turn on my computer, open up my emails and get out. Get me some coffee, and take your time.”
Karen sat there and waited. To her, he was already gone, but she knew he was likely feet away, fiddling with the startup, or Outlook, or something taking far too long, before she finally felt the presence of her screen reader… somewhere. She asked it to start. It was a damn pain since all the text came in at once without Fergus’s synopses.
[FILE] [EDIT] [VIEW] [HELP] [WINDOW 1] [SEND] [OPEN FIRST EMAIL] Hello Ms. Clyne, we’d like to extend an invite to join our “Limbless in Business” Luncheon scheduled for—
“RSVP Unavailable.”
The rest of the day went by in a state of unbearable tension. Karen thought she would be above it, able to tune it out, but Fergus eventually sauntered back in to sit… somewhere close, following every instruction with only mild and occasional ineptitude, like he had before yesterday.
And yet she couldn’t get a read on him.
The young man who had made her breakfast and provoked such… sensations that had her chest fluttering begrudgingly all morning was… gone. Perhaps she had reacted too strongly.
He fed her coffee, water, or her liquid lunch when asked, and around midday he picked her up when she wanted to give her butt a break. This was requested without ulterior motives, but it was something she wouldn’t have dared to ask even yesterday, so Karen knew it could be misconstrued — a part of her wanted it to be misconstrued — but there was nothing extra, no wandering, teasing hands like at breakfast, no desperate fumbling grip like yesterday. He held her more firmly than Eva, but no less gently, respectfully.
Again, Karen reconsidered her earlier sharpness.
The torso squirmed in his hands and asked to get back to work.
Her once-hapless assistant usually offered these pitiful little smalltalk attempts, non-sequiturs she couldn’t even give the time of day, since she knew how slow his thumbs were. Today he offered nothing until it was almost five, almost time to leave.
So am I going to have to spill coffee on you again to ask you out to dinner?
“What do you mean?”
I would like to take you to Dorsia tonight.
Finally, after a whole day of unease, silence, cool professionalism unlike ever before, this is what Fergus had in mind? To parade her in public?! This man— this boy, was fucking dense, selfish, indecipherable. He didn’t even understand what he was asking of her.
The torso squirmed in her seat, wondering if her distaste was visible.
“That’s a terrible idea. Literally every reason to go would be lost on me.”
Karen waited for his response for a heartbeat and a half before deciding she wasn’t interested regardless. He didn’t have a chance to type two words before she added:
“Will you make sure Eva has no problem getting in?”
That was that. Fergus would know Eva had a keycard. He would know she was dismissing him. He likely stormed out the door, petulant boy. The feeling of his cock last night filling her was a reminder he was hardly a boy, but Karen was pissed, and whatever had made him dream up such a stomach-turning idea, that’s not what this was.
‘A date out at Dorsia,’ what a joke! She wouldn’t subject herself to that many eyes, ever. And not with a junior-fucking-associate one-night stand.
Eva arrived at 5:30 precisely, as always, to pick Karen up — literally. It was always good for morale when a manager left last, but the true purpose was to reduce the number of eyes on her young assistant holding the middle-aged torso and walking her to her car. That’s why she was horrified to feel the subtle vibrations and palpitations of Eva talking and laughing while in her arms.
“Eva, who is it?”
The laughing stopped, followed by a jostling of the compact human luggage the carer was holding to get her phone out. Karen felt a bout of vertigo flare up, along with fully-justified fear of heights.
“Don’t you dare drop me!”
One delicate hand gripped her buttcheek a little too firmly, slipped, then suddenly she was passed into another pair of hands!! What the—
Fergus is here. Making sure you weren’t left alone. I think we should go back to using the wheelchair, maam.
Held firmly in his arms as he walked… then waited… then felt the sudden rush of the elevator descending… Karen realized she was leaning into him tightly as her stomach turned, hopelessly disoriented. It was only once they had finally ceased falling that Karen felt a tight, confused ball of emotions in her gut. He had waited… but it was his job… but he waited.
Was it for her, or to talk with Eva again? Maybe the two had hit it off that morning, she couldn’t know. Karen couldn’t believe she was jealous of her carer, but she felt so irrational lately, her pinhole lens to the world so clouded and uncertain!
One thing was certain, Fergus wasn’t going to allow her to scare him off.
Karen held strong that entire walk, but as soon as she was firmly secured in her car-seat in Eva’s backseat, and the young man’s hands left her, and the slight compressive pulse of the door closing shut vibrated through her, it felt like a full stop at the end of a long, disjointed sentence.
It couldn’t have been more than two blocks before she was talking, thinking in Fergus’ general direction.
“Isn’t Dorsia from that movie about the serial killer?”
Dont text driving.
I’m not driving, in case it wasn’t obvious, so I’ll talk all I like. Just pull over.
I am off the clock, Ms Clyne.
Oh, so she was Ms Clyne now? Karen tried a few more times but knew it was no use, relegated to enjoy her quiet, dark, rumbling ride home in incessant peace. Whatever outlet her thoughts had was left buzzing on his dashboard.
It was much later, somewhere in her living room, Karen sat in her comfiest chair as each word of Easton-Ellis’ infamous novel trickled into her head.
She wore nothing but a sports bra and some sewed-off leggings — which were more pouch than pants at this point — the gently-circulating air cooling her skin as the sweat of her exertions evaporated slowly. Her ebook was much more engaging than the beat of her digital trainer had been, jamming her thoughts with endless rhythmic commands as the reduced woman had tensed and twisted on the floor for an hour, Eva helping here and there.
The yoga mat helped some, but it was still hard to let herself just relax, left there on the cold hard ground to do her workout. Karen’s tiny body didn’t twist like it used to, and her muscles ached.
Then again, she was sore for sure, but she had skipped her exercise routine the day before. Or did fucking count?
Her brain was far sorer, as a whole day of messages getting injected into her train of thought made the inane ramblings of a vain businessman in the 1980s all the more abrasive.
Karen ached for the ability to skim a book like she had done in her youth, but the primitive e-reader she had in her collar, her one form of direct entertainment, wasn’t made for more than the handful of people in the world with her… condition. It was clunky at best, and slow.
“Stop.” Karen begged.
Stop what?
The reply startled her. This had happened yesterday. When she became tired or distracted, wires got crossed. Now the stream of prose had indeed stopped, only for another voice to interject.
“Eva? Is it dinner time already?”
No, this is Fergus.
Damn it. “Disregard.”
A heartbeat.
Another.
A tense breath slipped from her neck, puffing into the chasm of uncertainty that hovered over her. Karen felt the gears turning in her head again, the endless second-guessing of his intentions or his perception of her. Living in this state of indecision and flux was fucking unbearable!
“Let’s get something straight. I asked you to do me a favor yesterday. That was a very intimate request. It doesn’t mean you’re going to parade me around like any other woman. I am not a normal woman, obviously, but I’m also your boss, like I said yesterday… awkward. For you and me both. We are not going out. I’ve done that whole wine and dine charade years ago, I don’t care to repeat it.”
Karen surprised herself by saying too much, too fast, her carefully-trained attention drifting enough to “say” what she was really thinking again.
Fair enough, lol. I could skip all the normy stuff, honestly.
“Keep saying ‘lol’ and we can skip the rest too. But yes, that’s what I’m saying. This doesn’t. No. I don’t fit the template, so let me do the leading until you get your hands on me, got it?”
I can do that.
“Good. Now, I want to know what you were saying last night.”
What do you mean?
“I’m deaf, Fergus, not dumb. I could feel you speaking when you were lifting me on your lap.”
There was a long pause. He had definitely said something and it was dirty, something he didn’t want Karen to hear. She had to make sure he knew she was game, even though she had put a damper on his ridiculous dinner idea.
“Or did you forget lifting me by my tits, up and down, as I stroked your cock?”
I most definitely did not forget that.
“Good. Let’s hear it, then.”
Another pause.
I called you a sex-toy.
Karen froze again, suddenly feeling her exposed skin catch a chill, the dark silence pressing in a little closer. A sex-toy… a pillow… a thing…
The one upside of losing her head for Karen had been never catching sight of her new body, even though she knew it — and its limits — so well by now that she could practically “see” it in her mind’s eye; the only eye she had left… a torso with nearly nothing above the shoulders, dressed up in a costume of conformity, wriggling like a fucking worm on the floor… being picked up the few feet it took to sit on her own loveseat. It was enough to make her close that eye tightly, just keep moving forward…
But at heart, Karen still saw herself as a full woman — albeit in a smaller package — and this was a vicious reminder otherwise.
But Fergus didn’t mean it viciously… he was respectful and helpful, or so it seemed. He could have left early that morning when he woke up, he could have driven home when she dismissed him after work, he could have taken advantage of her any number of times last night. Yet he hadn’t. He didn’t get points for not raping her, but it didn’t hurt his luck.
Karen sobered for a second and let her emotions clear to reveal her true feelings: she hated her vulnerability and helplessness — yes — the lack of connection. She always had. It was the only thorn in her side that hadn’t dulled over the years, and usually she would loathe being objectified even further… but Karen didn’t really hate the thought of being a sex-toy or a pillow to Fergus…
She hated that she was starting to get off to the idea.
“Oh really, is that all? Fucktoy has a better ring to it, no? I thought you would be calling me a worthless cunt for all the hell I put you through in the office.”
Wait. Are you just making my life hard to get my dick harder?
“No. Maybe. Is it working?”
You’re such a bitch.
That’s the stuff. He needed a bit of hand-holding (from the least-qualified person imaginable) but he was getting there. The torso on her chair squirmed a bit, her hips twitching, vaginal muscles tightening around nothing. If only she had her—
“That’s it.”
What?
Oh shit, Karen felt herself slip again, letting her mind dwell in dirty places that had been off-limits for so long. She had to take control of this situation, and she had an idea.
“You’re such a slow learner, Fergus. I still can’t believe it took you so long to even feel me up. I really am just a few holes and some soft middle bits aren’t I?”
You think you’re worth getting fired over, slut?
Ooph, a bit tacked-on but he was learning quick.
“Happened before.”
Of course. I’m probably the latest in a long line of assistants who’ve had their way with you after hours, aren’t I? I saw how wet you were, lying there on your bed. I could just stare at you leaking and blow gently, tease you, watch you squirm, useless…
The cool air almost knew what it was doing as it tickled Karen’s skin, and she felt a hot density grow, pressure pulsing in her groin, trapped by the tight spandex wrapped around her hips and bum. As hard as it was to get words out of him over text, he could write…
What was Wade’s favorite position?
Oh, that question was out of left-field. Was he jealous now? Disappointing.
“Wade never made it this far, and he never would have, if I’m being honest. Insufferable.”
Then whoever brought you coffee in your last job, I’m sure.
“Nope. Hate to break it to you, Fergus, but the last guy I enjoyed was Eva’s predecessor, months ago. Over a year now. And yes, he got fired for it. Taking advantage of a client is a very grave offense, you know.”
Unconscionable. I’m sure my position is safe, though.
“If you keep up your performance from last night, we’ll see. But is this all worth the risk? Can you keep my cunt satisfied? Its quite important to a little sex toy like me, you know.”
Karen felt like she was on the edge of her seat, nothing to lose. She had never referred to herself ‘out loud’ in such denigrating terms, but it was exciting, reminding her of dirty words whispered in her ear in the heat of a passionate night, long ago.
Karen let him suck on that for a heartbeat or two before adding. “Or will an email slip to HR?”
I write all your emails, not happening.
“You really think I’m that helpless, I can fucking text you with a single thought, you imbecile.”
You are that helpless. I’ve seen it. You spit-up down your own chest if you drink coffee too fast. You don’t even know when I’m in the room. I could be there in your home right now, couldn’t I?
Karen twisted her chest in a futile reflex to ‘look’, before realizing of course she was still alone; Eva was likely a room or two over, cooking up a brothy soup for the next week’s lunches, or she was on her phone waiting for her next task. Karen was too invested here to ponder. Fergus continued:
I mean, when’s the last time you got off by yourself? I’m sure your insatiable cunt misses that, doesn’t it?
Karen smiled inside. Fergus was right, her emptiness was so untenable sometimes it practically ached, but he had walked right into her trap.
“Don’t get so cocky. Not as long ago as you might think.”
There was a pause, his thumbs were truly dragging.
I’m all ears.
“That makes one of us.”
Ha. You actually have me curious, how do you masturbate…?
Karen took a breath. She had his full attention now, and had to pay such a peek into her privacy the respect it deserved, making him wait, before her thoughts slipped to back then…
“Lucas, that handsy carer, became just a bit over-excited the first time I asked him to finger me in the bath for a bit of relief. I was so tense, you see. My last job was much worse. You think your co-workers are imbeciles, you have no idea.”
I never said that.
“Oh. Well now you know, they are. Anyways, I got his hopes up, and before long he offered more than just his hands. Bedtime with him became a treat, then a ritual, and for the first time since my accident I could sleep soundly with a good fuck, often. It became as regular as my melatonin, and way more effective. There’s nothing quite like it.
“But Lucas didn’t work every day. He had some nights off and another carer would check in on me, Eva, before I knew her as well. But I still needed a night cap, and you used to be right. There was nothing I could do. Lucas saw this, made a few orders, and got poor little me some toys. A vibrator, of course, along with some ben-wa balls that I could play with all on my own while he was away. It takes time, and a mountain of concentration, but it gets me there. How do you think I held you so firmly last night? I’m probably out of shape by now.”
Wow. Why didn’t we play with those last night?
“Because they’re lost.”
What do you mean?
“When Lucas got ahead of himself and started slipping fingers and more when he wasn’t asked, I got rid of him and swore never to go there with a carer again. Either he took the evidence of his misdeeds with him, or they are still in a box somewhere in my house. He used my card, so if they’re gone we can add stealing to his resume.
“But there’s no way for me to look around, obviously, and I’m damn well not asking Eva.”
I’ll be right over.
Well, that was easy.
“Eva, how would you like the night off again?”
The hand jolted her awake, warm, firm on her shoulder.
“What took you so long? Was the key not outside?”
I drove straight here. Eva let me in before she left. Were you asleep?
Karen felt the warmth of her tight, armless track-jacket swaddle her overtop her scant workout clothes, laying down on a couch… or so she guessed. It had been a while since Karen’s living room had been described to her, and waking up was always disorienting, since she couldn’t easily discern where she was.
“Long day. Pick me up. Let’s go hunting.”
Fergus’ arms wrapped around Karen’s toned waist and had little problem getting her entirety wrapped in his embrace and up in the air before slipping a hand under her butt for support, but his reply cut her plans short.
I don’t think so.
“What are you talking about? I thought—”
You said you would lead until I had my hands on you, and I’m not letting you retract your word this time.
Fergus’ words came fast and verbose, jutting through what she wanted to say, while both his hands were busy holding her tight.
“How are you typing so fast right now?”
I put the SIM card from your brickphone into mine so I can use voice-to-text. That thing was ancient. Nokia ancient.
“Hey! I never said you could do that. Those phones are my property!”
Now you’re not going to overwhelm me with texts, and you’ll hear every word I curse you with as I fuck you properly tonight.
Karen was taken aback by this behavior from her heretofore-unassertive assistant, squirming in his arms as Fergus began walking… somewhere, presumably to her bedroom. This felt like an altogether different man than the one that had carried her to Eva’s car, or even the one that had taken her home yesterday, and yet his embrace was the same. Karen felt an overwhelming wish to just smell him so close, maybe he heard the long draw of air into her collar’s air port.
I bet you’re pissed right now you have no say in what’s about to happen.
‘Pissed’ was not the word Karen would have used, and she was growing more surprised with herself every moment. Still, she played along.
“Fuck you, of course I have a say! This is my house! How dare you think otherwise, you useless little nobody desk-jockey!”
It was only about the length of time it would have taken for his phone to say that out loud, that Karen felt her limbless torso tossed into the open air, weightless until she wasn’t.
There were no words, just whatever the interpreter caught of her adrenaline-fueled mental screaming as she fell through the air and landed on— her soft mattress! They were in her bedroom!
Her head— no, the brain in her ribcage rattled inside its bioplastic shell, aching slightly.
Had he really just—?!
“How fucking dare you!? I’m not some insignificant thing to be handled as you like! Do you even know how fragile a body like this is?”
Karen had landed on her side and fallen over onto her front. It made no difference which direction she faced, it would do her no good, but still she tried her best to roll over, twisting the hardpoints of her shoulders in contrast to her wide hips, her attempts utterly fruitless.
You weren’t fragile last night.
“That’s different. You—
I always forget you can’t hear things like this. Here.
A strong buzzing met the mound through her tight sportswear, breaking all concentration. It was impossible to scold him properly when an assault so ruthless was being enacted upon her only remaining lips. Karen squirmed into the bedspread, getting nowhere fast as the vibrator pressed harder into her bottom… then pulled away into that familiar nothingness.
The woman silently sighed out her airhole into the fabric, wishing she could grab or bite it in need. Instead she directed her pent up energy all at Fergus.
“Who the hell do you think you are?! I am going to send a—
Now, I was thinking to myself on the way out the door, even if I do find your toys in that box you mentioned, they would be long dead by now, right? So I made a stop and got some of my own.
Karen’s hips were gripped by two strong hands and she was quickly flipped onto her back, and she felt… utterly owned, having just tried to do the same action without any luck.
That mystery we’ll leave for another time, since I do want to find those balls for you, but for now a simple vibe will do, along with one more thing…
The track jacket zipper pulled away slowly, exposing Karen’s bare midriff, toned and firm as her only muscle group left to work on. She made attempts to construct a suitable response but Fergus kept talking as he stripped her, drowning her thoughts out of her own tired mind.
If at any point you actually want me to stop, I want you to say that word. Stop. But you are not in control tonight, do you understand? This is your bed, but tonight you’re mine.
This was just too much, too over the top! Leave a bit to subtext why don’t you! But perhaps the safeword wasn’t a bad idea. Karen played along.
“You haven’t earned me, asshole. Why don’t you go fuck yourself! You do this and you are so fired, do you hear me?”
But she had a feeling that even if her texts were announced aloud, she was going to be as ignored as last night, as Fergus’s attentions focused on her body alone. Having just peeled away her bottom pouch, exposing the last remnants of her legs and the vulnerable space between with no difficulty at all, Karen knew her glistening pussy would render her biting words totally toothless, if he even read them.
She felt his hot breath on her slit, endlessly excited by the idea of him kneeling there before her, staring at her cunt with no hope of resistance or covering up. The fleshy hips framing her pussy undoubtedly twitched, Karen imagining crossing her legs, or was she spreading them wide? She could hardly remember the cues, and it likely made no difference to her assistant. She opted to instead arch her back, pushing her tits up, as she waited eagerly for a perfect sequel to last night.
But he didn’t meet her lips with his! Never mind some tongue! Instead that vibe dragged along her petals and folds, teasing her on the lowest of settings, as eager to jump inside her as she was to accept it.
I just can’t believe my boss is so insatiable she crafted a whole story to get me here. Last night I was overwhelmed by that. Caught off guard. I totally fell for it, but I’ve learned what you really want.
And Fergus slipped the vibrator inside her, the spreading and filling and subtle-yet-overwhelming buzzzz making Karen beg for more, words she made sure Fergus would never hear.
As Karen’s fire lit anew, she felt her sports bra pulled over each heavy breast with care, then ripped from her shoulders easily. She lay naked before him, blind, deaf, mute and ignored, inexorably vulnerable to whatever he had in store, twisting and tensing in sensation and dissatisfaction, just waiting for him to fucking get on with it!!!
“And you’re a greedy little man who is going to lord my disabilities over me, aren’t you? What do you think I want, Fergus? Last night wasn’t enough for you? Come on! Give it to me!”
As if he heard her, Fergus went to work putting… something… on her. It felt like netting, but not like the hosiery kind… more like straps that criss-crossed her body, hugging her curves, holding her tight. Some rings of the material slipped around her tits, while other straps ran right next to her spread-open slit, around her hips, ribs, shoulders. It was all cinched tight along her back.
Karen realized she was being put in a harness! A body that had for so long felt like a form of bondage was now compressed and contained, somehow even more confined!
“Don’t! I never said you could put me in this!” Karen focused toward Fergus, and she had to admit it was hard not to say “stop” as the vibrations tickled her in all the right ways yet got her no closer to the edge she needed so sorely.
Fergus left for a bit, prompting Karen to send him message after message asking what right he had to leave her there alone like that, full of his new toy and its pulsing patterns, really wishing she could touch herself, turn it up, turn it down, something. Luckily, the fact she couldn’t, and a well-trained imagination of her phantom limbs tied behind her did the trick.
Here we go, let’s bring you to my level.
Since it was all text, Karen couldn’t know if Fergus had muttered that or said it in the sultriest of tones, but it gave her a slight warning before the torso was grabbed and hoisted off the bed, just not in the usual way. He did not lift her tenderly, nor hold her close. He flipped her over yet again and gripped her by a strap between her shoulder blades. Karen left the safety of the bed being lifted by each tight, slicing strap of the leather or latex or whatever, her body totally ensnared yet also open to the air, lacking any sense of human treatment as she was moved like luggage toward whatever destination he envisioned.
He lifted her up, and then let her slip, only to feel her harness keep her there, in the air, her breasts heavy and unsupported.
You’re like a perfect addition to the room, a hanging toy almost made for me.
Karen squirmed silently, hanging there in the empty void he called a room, saying in no uncertain terms, “Get over here and fuck me!” before his hands were all over her, his suddenly nude body so close, so hot! Finally!!!
There was no rhyme or reason to his molestations, and she did feel them to be that self-serving, the hand cradling under her ass to graze against her labia, then to pull the toy out of her cunt and let it fall to the floor with an unheard thud so he could hold his stiff erection against her pussy, a total surprise, running it along her folds but not inside, not where she needed it!! His other arm wrapped around the small of her back, the thinnest point of her diminished frame, so the pendulum would swing toward his now-bare chest, his hot breath blowing across her clavicle.
Where was she hanging? She couldn’t know. From what? Had he drilled into her ceiling or did her room have crossbeams? She didn’t know, didn’t care, didn’t worry. She didn’t have to, as Fergus overloaded her sense of touch, the last remaining point of true contact Karen had with the world around her, overloaded everything she had left, and it was simply heaven.
This is when the words sex toy started trickling in — muttered or screamed by her lover, Karen couldnt know — breaking apart my sex toy the few thoughts she had left just a toy as each little screw nothing more than a sex toy drilled into her train of thought, you’re just my sex toy her will and resistance shattered my boss is just a toy after such a long day, she heard the words a gorgeous sex toy and smiled, cried, begged Fergus to fucking shut up and use her.
He probably heard none of it, of course.
Then the rope holding her up suddenly slipped! And stopped! Fuck! She hated that feeling!
But before Karen could launch a protest, or spout her safeword, she felt herself tipped horizontally, and could only imagine where her neck collar was in relation to Fergus’ cock, until she didn’t have to imagine. He popped her esophageal hatch and removed the cover entirely, leaving the last remnants of her mouth as defenseless as her pussy on her other end, facing the open room, dripping and aching for the toy it had lost.
Gripping her by the harness, Fergus held the compact torso tits down and rammed his cock down her throat. It was firmer and larger than she remembered, truly hard now, much more confident than his weak, desperate, last-minute spill down her throat last night. He was fucking her in the last place she wanted, a place no man could ever touch another woman, so close to where her true self was hidden beneath her chest, so peculiar and unique.
It was amazing.
Karen swallowed over and over, hoping it gave him some further constriction, to get him closer.
She kept receiving random words from his phone, Honey, Cove, Sod, Hall, most likely misinterpreting his grunts, but he did let something slip: You have no idea how fucking beautiful you look like this, something Karen held close as she pictured the two of them in her mind’s eye.
Out of body, Karen could only imagine how ridiculous her swinging chest looked hanging underneath her; could only try to imagine what patterns the harness made in her skin; and could only wait for Fergus to finish enjoying her throat, to reach the pinnacle of his abilities, pull out, spin the sex toy in his hands around on the end of a string, grip her hips, and plunge his ready manhood into her needy cunt.
Yanked back into her little prison by the glorious impalement, Karen felt the harness swing as Fergus’ hands gripped her fleshy hips hard, harder than anyone ever should, spanking her in a way she never thought anyone ever would, as he used her; not so much thrusting as pushing and pulling her tiny frame, weightless, along his cock in the air. Karen gripped his spear as firmly as she could, her whole body bursting with the feelings emanating from her pussy as it was subjected to such glorious abuses, finally full and spread and content, until she was overcome with lust and passion and need and came! Hard!
Held aloft in the air, twitching, Karen had no idea what escaped her filter and sent to Fergus as her mind called out in ecstacy, but he didn’t stop, using her like the sex toy she now knew she was until he climaxed too, filling her insides.
They stayed there for a moment, him still standing lock-kneed and buried inside her as deep as he could be, while Karen’s hazy mind slowly came back to earth, or to her little world, at least.
Was that rough enough, then, Ms. Clyne?
Karen laughed weakly, her torso buckling in mid-air, exhausted, as Fergus lifted her up to his chest, still not slipping out, unclipped her harness, and strode to the bed. “I don’t think you can call me that anymore.”
So you had a good time? Fergus said as they collapsed into the soft mattress and covers.
Karen let herself sneer mentally, imagining teasing the young stud. “A little too much talk for me, I think I’m used to the quiet in here. You’ve obviously never heard of ‘less is more.’”
“But yes. :) ” She tacked on quickly, before he could make some cringeworthy connection between an adage on mid-century design and his cock.
They laid there, Fergus’ body heat more comfortable than Karen remembered, his body a guest she could learn to welcome in this safe softness more regularly.
You seem tired. I should probably let you rest, maybe find that box for you.
Don’t go. Karen thought, before catching herself. Fuck. Did that send?
Ok. Fergus replied, holding her a hair tighter against him.
I heard that, too.