Title: Miss Prim & Proper, or what goes around, comes around

Codes: MF, torture, humiliation, nc, drugs
Outline: Cynthia gets some payback when a rebuffed suitor from her youth finally takes what already should have been his years ago (and then starts handing it out to every one...)
Suggestor: likes to be unmentioned




Chapter 1 - The Hook

Cynthia Hauser had been pissed of all week now.
Monday started a drag with the users complaining about the newly rolled out word processor. When both of her 1st line support people called in sick, now she was the one who had to babysit managers, secretaries and all those other people who thought they were to good to read the instructions that had been mailed out weeks ago and once for last weeks as well.
Tuesday was not any better, with only one of her subordinates back to work.
Working for more than 20 years in IT, having worked her way through various roles from support monkey, via system and network engineering and other positions that required her technical skills instead of her female appearance, to Senior Project Manager, one would think the VP of HR would realize that she was NOT the person to walk around with a friendly smile on her face explaining time and time again the simplest word processors instructions. For God's sake, how hard can it be to grasp some basic concepts!
Just hire some college students and train those for ten minutes and then they could do the same job.

As she corrected her makeup in the ladies room, she considered herself lucky that indeed she did not have to rely on her female charms to get things done.
Not that she had anything to complain about. At just over 40, she still had the same dress size as when she left college. The weekly visits to the gym classes paid their dividend in that regard, even though she had to deal with the usual amount of lecherous guys (and even some women!) as she worked her usual routine through the exercise machines.
Not that they would see much, as she generally hid her B-cup sized tits and the rest of her firm 5'4" body that hovered around 115-120 pounds in baggy sweat gear as she worked out.
What irritated her more where the wolf calls and whistles that she received from construction workers and sometimes even car drivers as she walked between work and home.
Yes, she knew she looked good, especially with the new hairdo. Even her brother mentioned that she looked just like Jamie Lee Curtis. Of course, he knew that was her favourite actress, so maybe he was just giving her an empty compliment. But empty or not, it was nice to be appreciated without being expected to give something in return.
What did those whistlers expect anyway? That she would turn towards them, ripped open her blouse and yelled "Yes, please fuck me right here and now!" to them? Get real... no one would fuck her without being married to her.
And even then only when, where and how she wanted it. Even if it meant to go without a stiff cock up her cunt for eight years now.

As she straightened her blouse and checked if all the buttons were closed, she realized that indeed it had been just over eight years that she divorced Robert. Initially he seemed like the ideal husband for her. Their courtship had been just that: courtship. No gropes, no innuendos, no fondling in dark cinemas of on back seats of cars. No hints at 'test drives' as with most earlier boyfriends. Just the behaviour she expected from a boyfriend, or just in fact any male that took an interest in her.
The wedding night had been good, Robert took her virginity with his condom clad cock (they planned on having children only after two or three years) and after the expected initial pain she experienced her first orgasm caused by fucking. At least it was the same feeling as she had every two months or so as she had those very intense, physical dreams and usually woke up all sweaty, exhausted and physically satisfied. But this was much more intense. The feelings that his actions had caused that first time even surprised her after all these years. However, as she had seen the look of lust on her husbands face when he had shot his load in the latex cover around his cock, she understood that his had to be kept under control.
Before you knew it, he would be expecting these kind of activities at each and every conceivable opportunity. She knew how men though. And she was not going to have any of it.
So they settled into a (at least for her) comfortable routine of a two-and-a-half week rhythm. One extended Saturday evening of a intimate dinner, some dancing or perhaps a romantic movie and then Robert would be allowed to fuck her. And if she felt generous, he would be allowed to an encore on the following Sunday morning. On special occasions (like a birthday, national holiday or when he received a bonus at work) she even performed a hand job on him to get him up again.
The other fuck would be a quick one on Wednesdays. Just to take of the tension. Depending on her mood, it would be the straight up-and-down missionary style fuck as usual or Robert would be allowed to finger and lick her pussy until she came, after which she then would masturbate his cock until he sprayed his seed all over his own stomach and chest. No way she was going to suck that cock herself and no way in hell she was going to let that white stuff get into her mouth.
She had tried a three-and-a-half week schedule after about one year of marriage, but Robert got too irritated and she caught him masturbating in the shower once. So, back to the two-and-a-half it was.
Eight years ago Robert apparently had enough of this rhythm and after trying a few times to convince her to do some new, more 'adventurous' things, like oral sex performed by her or anal sex performed by him or that thing he called a titty-fuck (all of which she refused) he started fooling around with a more liberal (his words), slutty (her words) female colleague and soon the divorce papers were drawn up. And so started her current period of having only dream induced orgasms.

Satisfied that her blouse was all tidied up and that it did not show her bra, she walked back onto the work floor.
"Cynthia, can you come into my office for a moment?" she heard Mr. Johnson call her. Now there was a man she would not mind dating. Too bad he was married (and quite happily if rumours were to believed). Just over 6'10" he looked and behaved every inch the gentleman. His grey hair and neatly trimmed moustache fitted his slightly overweight 50 year old, solar studio tanned body just fine, in her opinion.
"I'll be right over, Mr. Johnson" she responded. While making a detour to her desk, to reshuffle some paperwork that had gathered while she had been making her round of supporting the office workers earlier that day, she walked briskly to his office.
"What did you want to see me about, Mr. Johnson?" she asked as she entered his office. Continuing to work on his computer and not ogling her hourglass figure like the other male staff he told her to wait a minute while he finished some documents.
"Do you remember our interest in the DataSerf BDSM-5000 storage unit?" he then asked.
Of course she did... after all, she had recommended this storage unit several months ago to the CIO and kept on informing about any decisions regarding it. The acronym was a bit weird and seemed like a typical male-geek joke from the company that made this system. But apparently it stood for Big Disk Small Money and its specs (and price) were good enough to follow up on the emails that she received from a co-worker on this.
And Mr. Johnson continued to inform her that the IT-leadership decided that further investigation into this system was needed before any purchase decision was made. Due to the fact that DataSerf was a small upstart company they could not loan out a system.
DataSerf responded favourably to their request for on-site testing and allowed for one Senior IT-engineer to be flown in and to be taken care off while the system was tested.
Given her initial interest and commitment to the system, who better to send than her to visit them and perform the onsite testing?
Her plane would leave on Saturday evening, giving her Saturday itself to pack and prepare. She would be picked up by George Dammer, the CEO himself.
The name Dammer seemed familiar, Cynthia dated a boy Fred Dammer once when she was sixteen, but that stopped when he tried to touch her tits! Even in her own house, with her parents in the other room... But thoughts of this event quickly evaporated as Mr. Johnson continued.
As the DataSerf company was located near her grandparents, it would be no problem (in fact even expected) if she extended her two-three testing period with some additional private time (no vacation days deducted and salary being paid as usual). This to compensate for the inconvenience all of this must cause her.
As Cynthia left Mr. Johnson's office glowing with pride and anticipation about the next five or six weeks, she realized that the remainder of this week was going to be complete hell... AND this word processor roll out AND performing the handover of her current activities to her subordinates... But she was sure she was going to manage in the usual confident professional way she always managed everything.

And indeed she did. Friday evening (well... 10 PM actually) found her exhausted (a lot of work) and pissed off (why did she have to explain everything two or three times to people before they finally got it?!) but still satisfied because all of the work related issues had been resolved or would be taken care of by other people next week.
As Cynthia went home, she was in fact so elated that she almost did not mind the big negro night guard checking her out as left the building. The man was way over 60 but still leering at her as if he was a 20-something stud and she one of his moneymaking crack addicted street hoes.... Filthy old bugger, she thought as she walked down the stairs onto the street and felt his eyes burning on her ass.

On Saturday Cynthia smoothly made all the necessary private arrangements, making some payments in advance and those sort of things.
She decided that the visit to her family would be a surprise one. She did not know how long the testing at DataSerf would last exactly, so no need to inform her grandparents. Those sweet folks would only get nervous if she did not show up on time.
The only thing that went not so smooth was the visit to the drug store. As she was in a hurry to get everything done on time (after all, the plane would not wait for her), she did not pay as much attention to getting dressed as usual. By mistake she put on a tight white blouse over her lace black bra that she usually wore during the weekend. Even while she wore a rather demure pair of jeans, she still felt every pair of male eyes aimed at her (or rather at her tits that were cupped by the black bra which showed itself through the white blouse). As if they never had seen a woman before! Most men looked away if she stared back at them, but others took up the challenge and even looked her completely up and down. The smiles of approval were not experienced in that way by Cynthia. How did they dare?? Looking at her and almost undressing her with their eyes! The worst was the grocery boy. The little bastard made sure that her packed groceries were as the far end of her reach as he placed them on the counter. Now she had to bent over the counter and stretch out all the way to grab her bag. This way he was able to look down her blouse and down into her cleavage! If she was not so pressed for time, she would have reported him to his boss!! The lecherous teen could learn a lesson.
Of course, behind her back, most of the male customers got a good look of her ass as she was stretched out over the counter. She could even hear one of them whisper 'Perfection!', but as she turned around no one claimed to be the owner of that remark. It probably had been one of the two 20-something university students (recognizable by their jackets). Both now sported (in Cynthia's eyes) obscene bulged in their crotches. And these guys were suppose to become the cultural and erudite elite of this country, not some 'ready-to-fuck-it-and-maybe-even-twice' type of guys whenever they saw a well formed female ass... This country was going to the boondocks!
Angry she stomped away out of the store. Only as home she came to rest and finished her packing.
Going to the airport was uneventful and even boarding went smooth. Travelling First Class had certainly its advantages. Even the purser behaved well and his questions about her well being seemed genuine and not some excuse to look over the one female passenger, between all the male business men, once more.
Finally she allowed herself to relax and drift of into a dreamless sleep.


