Written at work and emailed home

D'you get the feeling this thing is taking over my life? Here I am at work again, but not working - no, I'm writing an entry for my diary and emailing it home. I'm supposed to be starting this new bid for the school, but I haven't made any headway on it yet.

Added to which, I'm knickerless again and flashing myself in front of my very own mollycam while I work. Or pretend to work. I've been like this all day. Arrived at work with no knickers this morning, in readiness for a day at the frontline of perving. It's amazing how self-aware you feel when you walk through the streets in a short skirt and no panties, let me tell you.

I know str8guy is logged in, but I've no idea if or when he's watching my cam. He hasn't been in touch all day. Ironic, huh? Guess he's got too much work to do... :-(

Hold on, here comes Terry...

Well that was interesting. It's either not him and he's just taken a fancy to me, or it is him and he's bloody clever, because he doesn't let anything slip.

He's just been talking about some football match that was on last night. God knows who, but somebody won and they shouldn't have. I guess all that sport stuff means something to somebody, but not to me.

No rest for the wicked. Called through to McCabe's office now... Back later

Wednesday, April 21st 2004, evening

Didn't get a chance to write again at work. McCabe collared me for most of the afternoon. He had me seated in a chair right in front of his desk, but placed rather further back than normal. Almost - a suspicious mind might deduce - strategically placed as though to give him a chance to look up someone's skirt... Which a perv might wish to do if he had prior knowledge of what was under it, and what wasn't, clothing-wise...

I wonder.

I kept my legs firmly shut, though. If he really is str8guy he sees plenty of me anyway, and if he isn't I doubt I'd be doing my career prospects much good by flashing my fanny at him when he's trying to talk business.

At least I think that's what he was talking about. It's not always easy to tell.

"How's the donkey cultivation going?"

"Excellent."

"Tell me more."

That was the tough bit. I had no idea what donkey cultivation meant, but he'd called my bluff. I assumed it had something to do with the schools ESF bid, as he'd talked about donkeys the other day when he told me about it, but I couldn't recall the context.

"I've been doing some of the background research on it. Checking the RDA website, downloading the guidance..."

"Bullshit and buggery, woman. If I want a clerk I'll hire a goldfish. Tell me something important. What have you doooone? The 'done' kind of slithered out of his mouth, like he was making love to the word itself, and I thought he would never reach the end of it. Even talking about doing business seems to get him excited.

(Hmmm, just like str8guy, you might argue??? Someone who likes talking as much as doing...)

"I've arranged to go and see the Head tomorrow." Technically, that's now true, but it wasn't at the time. As soon as I got out of his office I phoned and arranged the meeting.

"Tomorrow? But I told you about this on Friday, woman. Hell's bile, what are you doing? You can't let solid opportunity slide through your fingers, it'll turn to ash on the carpet. I didn't take you for a donkey, Molly. I thought you were a viper, a snake in the grass, ready to pounce, ready to strike, grab them by the bollocks and win the moment."

What was it that poet said: what a gift to see ourselves as others see us. Hmm, sometimes you're better not knowing, if you ask me. A fucking snake, indeed!

He wasn't letting up. "Money, Molly. We're put on this earth to make money for Chase McCabe." Interesting view of spirituality, at odds with most major religious beliefs, but I wasn't about to argue. "A prostitute opens her legs in Shanghai and a yakuza can light a celebratory cigar in Tokyo. Mother Teresa pops her clogs and a new brand is born. Where there is need, let us bring a business plan with 15% profit margin hidden in the small print; where there is hope, let us exploit it. The world wasn't made by headless chickens, Molly. Headless chickens didn't seize the moment, and look what happened to them. Do you see what I'm saying, Molly?"

"Absolutely."

Barking mad. Utterly lunatic.

"Did I ever tell you about my honeymoon, Molly?"

This sounded like dangerous territory. "Not that I can recall, no."

"Let's just say I shafted more than the new Mrs McCabe that week."

"Uh huh..."

"Metaphorically, that is. Not that I'm given to metaphors in general. But the metaphor here was a bird in the bush, so I seized it and turned it into a £150,000 gift horse."

"Excellent."

"I can spot a lonely man from the length of a pier. And lonely men have just one friend. Just one friend in the whole world. And what is it, Molly?"

"I..." I shook my head in defeat. "I'm not sure..."

"Their wallet. Lonely men make fat wallets. No friends to leech from them. No wife to plaster the family silver all over the walls and floors and bathrooms in this year's must-have colour scheme. Lonely men are waiting to have their money put to better use. That's-what-they're-there-for!" He was nodding expressively, as though willing me to take up the reins of the conversation. Alas, I feared that was beyond me - it was careering helplessly out of control and it was already beyond my wit to retrieve it. "That's what we do, Molly. Prise open their wallets, fillet the fish and off to the bank of opportunity. Simple, isn't it?"

"You make it sound so easy."

"Yes, exactly so. You're a canny one, young Molly. Canny, canny, canny. And so that's the story. That's how I met Miles Chase and we established the company. Useless bastard with a fat wallet. Best partner a viper could have." His eyes bored into me. "Who's your bastard, Molly?"

Some bloke called str8guy, I thought to myself. And what a bastard he is, too.

"I'll tell you. It's the Headmaster with a donkey for a brain, the Headmaster who has the key to the safe. Tell him what he thinks, Molly. Tell him what he needs to know but doesn't know he needs to know yet. Tell him what you're going to do. Only 85% of what you're going to do, obviously..."

"Obviously."

"We understand one another, Molly. You're a viper, I know it. I know you, Molly, I know you're a shit at heart."

Bless! Only Geoff McCabe could call someone a shit and mean it as a compliment.

"Oh, and Molly, one more thing. When you're hunting the herring don't skimp on your knickers, girl. Your cunt's all very pretty, but you don't want to use it to land a sprat. Save it for the shark. You know what I'm saying. Close the door on the way out."

str8guy was most amused when I told him about it. I thought I'd tell him the story to see if it was McCabe himself - see if he gave himself away in any way. Nothing. I'm kind of coming round to the idea it isn't McCabe. He's too crazy - he couldn't write as sensibly as str8guy does, couldn't sustain normality for long enough.

[str8guy] So Molly flashed the boss!!

[medusa] i didn't mean to. didnt even know i had till he mentioned it.

[str8guy] Molly, that's priceless. Show me how you did it.

[medusa] i was just sitting in front of him.

[str8guy] No, show me. Put on your skirt and blouse and show me.

Well, there was nothing on TV, so I did. I re-enacted the scene in McCabe's office with str8guy.

[str8guy] I can't see enough. Part your legs a bit

[str8guy] Oh yes, that's nice. I can see quite far up

[str8guy] not enought though. Not enough to see you're not wearing panties.

[str8guy] Yes, that's better. Slide it up a bit more.

[str8guy] And all the time you're sitting there, imagine McCabe is talking to you.

[medusa] oh that's easy...

[medusa] fillet the beef and make it a sandwich. you know what i'm saying, molly...

[str8guy] LOL, that's just like him.

[medusa] business is a prostitute with her legs in the air and her knickers hanging from a flagpole. because even a cunt needs advertising, molly...

[str8guy] LOL That sounds like a real McCabe line.

[medusa] i think it is. i'm sure he said that to me once.

[str8guy] Well, at least your knickers aren't flying from a flagpole, Molly.

[medusa] you realise if you really are mcCabe i'll be fired tomorrow.

[str8guy] Well, you won't be, then. And that will help you narrow down your search for my identity a little, won't it?

[str8guy] Skirt a little higher?

[str8guy] How are your investigations going, by the way?

[medusa] progressing nicely, thanks

[str8guy] Who are your prime suspects?

[medusa] I wouldn't want to reveal my hand just yet.

[str8guy] How about revealing something else, then?

[medusa] *groan* talk about feeding you the lines...

[str8guy] LOL

[str8guy] Oh yes, that's nice.

[str8guy] There's your polly again, all nice and pretty.

[str8guy] Molly's pretty polly...

[str8guy] Sit back and spread your legs, Molly. Wide.

[str8guy] This is what I dreamed about yesterday, at work.

[str8guy] I'd love to see you do this in the office, Molly

[str8guy] Wider

[str8guy] Play with polly for me.

[str8guy] Inside

[str8guy] Deeper

[str8guy] three fingers

[str8guy] Molly, such a beautiful sight

[str8guy] sheer beauty, sheer perfection

[str8guy] Part your cheeks please, let me see

[str8guy] Oh god yes

[str8guy] You have such a delicious backside, Molly dear

[str8guy] Finger it

[str8guy] Finger it

[str8guy] Imagine McCabe watching you

[str8guy] Fat blubber hanging over the desk, watching you

[str8guy] watching you fuck yourself

[str8guy] sticking your finger in your ass

[str8guy] Do that, Molly

[str8guy] Push your finger in your arse please

[str8guy] oh

[str8guy] oh

[str8guy] now fuck it. in and out, In and out

[str8guy] oh yes, yes molly

[str8guy] Spread your legs

[str8guy] Let me see. Everything. Let me see everything molly

[str8guy] No keep your fingers there. Fuck your arse Molly

[str8guy] I'm going to come soon

[str8guy] Keep fucking your arse with your finger

[str8guy] in and out

[str8guy] in an d out

[str8guy] molly

[str8guy] moll

[str8guy] close up i need a close up

[str8guy] Of your finger in your arse

[str8guy] pleas

[str8guy] Yes, thankyou.

[str8guy] That's it

[str8guy] oh god yes, you've no idea how hard you make me molly

[str8guy] how hard you make me come

[str8guy] how fast it shoots, how far it goes

[str8guy] you get me so excited Molly

[str8guy] so excited watching you

[str8guy] your fintger in your arse, reaming yourself, fucking your arse

[str8guy] deep inside you

[str8guy] and your polly on display, lips spread, all puffed up

[str8guy] so red, so dark, so beautiful

[str8guy] oh god molly, yes, yes

[str8guy] harder, faster

[str8guy] harder

[str8guy] as deep as you can go

[str8guy] finger all the way in

[str8guy] in your arse. in your arse molly

[str8guy] Coming

[str8guy] coming

[str8guy] coming

[str8guy] ...

[str8guy] ...

[str8guy] ...

[str8guy] Oh Molly, my dear. I think even McCabe would have been speechless after that beautiful performance.

[medusa] that u come then?

[str8guy] Like a volcano

[str8guy] Molly, you were outstanding. What a performance. So filthy, so perfect. No porn star could compete with that.

So there you are. I've been called a shit and told I'm filthier than a porn star. Pretty normal sort of day for Molly Hadley, all in all...

Silver, you're the only one who understands me darling. Come to bed sweetheart, come to momma...