Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 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.

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