I feel like shit but I'm randy as hell. What a bloody combination, eh? My period's started. I've taken a sickie - I don't really need to, it's not that bad - but I just can't be bothered. I can't make myself concentrate on work. Too much going through my head. Like pain. And sex. :-( That's a terrible combination - even individually they can take up all your energy. I've got cramps, my skin feels like it's been flayed and my back is bloody aching. My brain's like mush, my hormones all over the place. All in all, I'm not at my best.

To be honest, I just couldn't hack the office today. I couldn't face Rod or Terry or McCabe or any of the other faceless bastards who might be str8guy. There are times when I can cope him and what he's doing, and times when I can't. This is one of the latter. The idea of Terry prattling on about some bloody film or Rod chatting me up or McCabe speaking to me in a language only he understands is just too much. And the knowledge that one of them is probably str8guy, secretly laughing at me, makes my skin crawl. When I face him, I need to be at my best, to make sure he doesn't have it all his own way. I need to fight him, and I can't do that right now.

So I'm sitting at home all day, in my jimjams, watching continuous waves of cloud roll across the sky.

And I'm thinking dirty thoughts.

Revenge thoughts.

The sorts of thoughts prim young ladies shouldn't have. Thoughts I never used to have. Thoughts which have been entertaining me for the last three hours. And they're so delicious, I'm going to put them down on paper. My first story. Hope you like it.

Revenge, by Molly Hadley

Molly Hadley stepped away and flexed her shoulder muscles. She was twenty-seven and stunningly attractive, [look, this is my story, okay??!] her beautiful blond locks falling seductively around her golden neck. She smiled, revealing white teeth and evil intent, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.

In front of her, hands tied above his head and dangling helplessly like a rag doll from the ceiling, was Rod Eaves. He was gagged - Molly's own panties, specially moistened with her own juices - and his bulging eyes revealed the terror he was experiencing. His feet barely touched the ground, and as he struggled on tip-toes his body dangled helplessly, twisting and turning, at times threatening to spiral into an uncontrollable spin. Clearly the thought of that terrified him and he struggled to keep himself steady. Molly slapped his bare arse hard with her hand and he spun once more, round and round, a helpless victim of a ruthless, beautiful woman.

"Well then, Rodders," she said, thrusting her face against his, "how are we this morning? A little tired, I expect. Needing a lie down? Would you like to be let down?" He nodded pathetically, mumbles rising from behind the panties. "As if," she sneered and spanked him once more. "Get it up for me, Rodders. Get an erection. I want to see Rod's rod." She gripped his cock and squeezed it hard, forcing the helpless man to squeal into his gag and buck uselessly in an attempt to release himself. She slapped it half a dozen times, watching the skin turn red in response, but still it remained flaccid.

"Come on, boy. Let me see. Get it stiff." Still no response. "Do you need a little help, little man? Is that what it is. Can't make woody without Molly to help you?" Slyly, she began to unbutton her cream blouse, revealing a La Perla bra beneath. "D'you like my titties, Rodders? Would you like to feel them?" He grunted and shook his head, but Molly was gratified to see the first stirrings of excitement in his cock. She bent before him and pressed her impressive cleavage [ahem...] forward, tantalisingly close to his dick. Finally, she let the head glance against her belly and it quivered, stiffening visibly. Sliding downwards, she let it rub against her bra and enter her cleavage. By now it was completely erect.

"Good boy. Hmm, not very impressive is it? Not much there to scare the wildlife. Would you like me to suck it for you? I bet you would. I bet you'd love to have it slide between my luscious lips and into my hot mouth. I bet you'd like to come down my throat. Wouldn't you little Rodney?" His cock was twitching violently, confirming his response. She snorted, snapping her head and flicking her lustrous hair from her eyes. "Dream on, little man. Only in your dreams. I'm going out now to enjoy myself. And when I come back I want to see that little dick still stiff and standing to attention. If it isn't, d'you know what will happen?" He made no attempt to reply, so Molly picked up a whip and dangled it in front of him. "Fifty strokes, I think. Front and back. Understand? He nodded violently, his eyes straining as though trying to release themselves from their sockets.

Molly Hadley swung her delicious arse out of the room and headed for the spare bedroom. There, spreadeagled on the bed, arms and legs tied to the four corners, was Terry Peters. He was completely naked, his mouth gagged by his own knickers and his cock fully erect. It was huge, about eight inches, and very slim. More like a candle than a cock, Molly thought. Delicious thoughts of sticking a birthday candle into his urethra and lighting it flickered through her brain as she watched his writhing body, admiring the weals on his ankles and wrists where his ropes had chafed his skin.

"Hello Terry, my little sweetmeat. How are you? Still nice and stiff, I see. That's nice, isn't it? Have you been thinking about Molly, then? Is that what's keeping you stiff. Thoughts of my body? Fantasies about your Mistress? Have you been thinking about my pussy. Have you been imagining it pressed against your face, smothering you, my juices streaming into your mouth? Would you like that, Terry?"

The terrified Terry made no response, which irritated his beautiful captor. She slapped his thigh fiercely. "Would you?" she shrieked, her voice strong and clear. This time Terry nodded expansively, his hands flexing against the ropes. "Good boy, of course you would." She dragged her fingernail down his stomach, raising a livid, red line. "You're not getting to, of course."

Molly unbuttoned her jeans and slid them over her delicious thighs. She stepped out of them and walked towards Terry, swaying her hips mesmerically. She pulled the knickers from his mouth. "You're not going to scream, are you, little man?" she threatened, indicating with a nod the cat o' nine tails resting against the sideboard.

He shook his head. "No," he replied hoarsely, his spirit broken by this indomitable woman.

"I didn't think you would." Archly, she peeled her panties off and stood in front of him in all her magnficent spleandour. She was stunning, her figure perfect, breasts pert and stiff, and bald pussy peeping coyly from between her legs. There was no evidence of cellulite on her firm, rounded flesh and her breasts showed no sign of sagging. She was, without question, the perfect woman. [okay, okay, even I'm getting a bit embarrassed by this now ;-)...]

She grabbed her panties and fixed them over her captive's face so that the crotch, moist and fragrant from her juices, was pressed against his eyes and nose, blindfolding him. He started in fear. "Don't worry," she said. "It's time for you to service your Mistress. Would you like that?"

"Yes," he replied instantly, clearly remembering the threat of the cat.

"Wonderful. My little worm is ready to service his Mistress." She jumped on to the bed and swung her leg over his prostrate body, facing away from him. She settled herself on her knees astride him and looked down at his helpless face. Slowly, she slid her knees apart and lowered herself on to him, parting her arse cheeks as she did.

"Are you ready?" she commanded.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes Mistress."

"Do you know what you're going to do?" "No, Mistress." "Shall I tell you?" "Yes Mistress."

"You're gonna lick my ass, worm boy. Stick your tongue right up it." With that she pressed herself hard against him, feeling his hot, wet mouth settle unwillingly around her hole. He tried to buck free, but she pressed harder, pulling her cheeks wide apart and suffocating him with her arse. "Lick," she yelled, riding up and down on him.

She was delighted to feel his tongue emerge from his mouth and press tentatively against her ring. "Yes, that's it worm boy. Lick. Press that tongue in. Deep." She continued to bounce up and down on him, fucking his tongue with her arse. All the time she pulled at her arse cheeks, opening herself wide. Gradually, Terry's tongue began to disappear inside her anal passage, its presence alien but incredibly thrilling. Finally, it became well and truly anchored in her arse, and Terry saw to his duties diligently, reaming her powerfully with his tongue.

Molly began to play with her clitoris as she rode him, tickling her fingers round and round it, teasing it from beneath its hood and stroking it gently, tenderly. With her left hand, she stroked the length of her pussy, fingers grazing against each lip in turn, while all the time Terry's mouth and tongue serviced her sensitive, aroused, glorious arse.

She enjoyed herself in this fashion for a good ten minutes before a stirring climax began to well up inside her. Her thighs tensed, then began to shake, trembling uncontrollably as the waves of her climax rippled through her womb and out across her electrified body. Spasms of sexual energy ripped through her, setting her senses alight. Her sex slave, sensing her impending climax, redoubled his efforts, pressing his tongue as deep inside her arse as he could manage. Molly Hadley raised her beautiful face to the skies, screamed and entered paradise.

Whooh, and I haven't even got to McCabe yet. Time for some lunch, I need to cool down...