Chapter 6: The Day After

So, here I am, back in my room, a nervous bundle of indecision, waiting for the phone to ring.

I spent the whole day without wearing any knickers, but that made only a very small contribution to my confused state of mind. I didn't get a wink of sleep all night and now I'm dead tired. Too many things happened to let me find the restoring sleep I need to function properly.

In a few minutes Roger will call me and he'll want to know in great detail what happened last night. Of course he'll notice from the sound of my voice how tired I am and he will draw his own conclusions about the cause of my tiredness.

I have decided to be brave and confess everything Fiona and I got up to last night. Well, not exactly everything. I'll leave out Fiona's punishment. That means I can't tell Roger that it all started when I treated her sore bottom with moisturiser. I have to come up with another reason why she came to be lying naked on her bed, asking me to touch her.

But my mind's gone blank. I can't come up with any plausible story. Maybe: Fiona slipped and fell down the stairs as she went to answer the door. Then, when we got to her room, she took off her clothes, lay on her bed and asked me to check if there was any damage. And then one thing led to another. That should solve the immediate problem of Roger's phone call.

I'm worried that Roger may not like what I'm going to tell him. But he can't be too harsh on me. After all, it was he who told me to 'see what develops'.

But that's not my only problem, maybe not even the biggest one. There are so many open questions that I don't know where to start.

I can't understand how I got into this state of utter confusion. I don't seem to be able to think clearly for longer than ten seconds. Is it because Roger isn't here? I don't think that's the reason. He's been away on business in the past and I've always coped very well. I'm pretty sure that Fiona is the reason for my mental turmoil. I haven't been my usual self ever since the two of us stayed behind on the day of the blackout. Why on earth didn't I leave straight away like everybody else? No, I had to act the dedicated professional who carries on working in spite of adverse conditions. Now I'm in a mess.

The crazy thing is that I've never before had any problem reaching a decision. It's easy. You enumerate all your options. You list the positive and negative points about each option. Then you identify which of the positive points attract you and which of the negative points put you off most. And you go for the option with the balance of positive and negative factors which suits you best. Simple. No rocket science.

I have done it many times since my father taught me how to do it. Sometimes I think that this is the only thing my father ever taught me, but that would be unfair. He taught me mostly by setting an example, not by telling me what to do. By imitating him I have become an honest, decent, upright citizen. I learned from him how to behave in such a way that I never need to be ashamed of my actions. But now it's all falling apart.

As soon as I have started to list my options for one problem, another problem demands my attention. As hard as I try, I never manage to get past the first step. Not only have I lost my ability to make rational decisions, I've also been involved in actions which I can't possibly be proud of.

Last night, before I left her, Fiona made a copy of the tape I had recorded, and handed it to me.

"This is your copy. You deserve it. I think this should answer all your questions," she said.

In fact, I never got around to asking her any questions, as I had intended. Fiona's punishment had left both of us in such a state of excitement that we lost control and engaged in this regrettable act. And then, when she snooped in my handbag and found Roger's picture, our conversation had taken a different direction.

As soon as I got home, I popped the cassette into the VCR and played it. Then I played it again. And again. I have lost count of how many times I've played the tape. I've watched it at normal speed and in slow motion. I've sat there and stared at the close-ups of Fiona's breasts with the erect nipples, her dripping pussy, and her punished bottom in freeze-frame mode. And I fingered myself without taking my eyes off the screen. I only stopped watching the tape when my alarm clock went off, telling me that it was time to get up and go to work.

Watching the scenes on this tape had a devastating effect on me. I wanted two things, I just couldn't decide which one I wanted more. I wanted to return to Fiona's bed and repeat everything we had done, if possible with even more passion and abandon. And I wanted to take her place on her uncle's desk. I wanted to expose my naked body and my dripping pussy to his eyes, and my bottom to his castigating hands.

When I watched the tape, I couldn't help feeling excited seeing the close-ups of Fiona's breasts, her dripping wet pussy, even the shots of her bottom being hit repeatedly by her uncle's hand.

Ever since Fiona exposed her bare breasts to my eyes, back at the office, I knew that she had a magnificent body. The kind of body men drool over. But I can't possibly admit that I feel sexually attracted to her, that I desire her. Because that would be wrong, wrong, wrong!

It's wrong because women are attracted to men and men are attracted to women. That's the law of nature. Everything else is unnatural. It's wrong because there have to be rules. Without rules our lives turn into chaos. Having no rules spells the end of civilization as we know it.

What happened last night between Fiona and me must never happen again. We both lost control. We let our excitement take over. Who knows, Fiona might have done it so that she can give her uncle another reason for punishing her. But I had no reason, no justification, other then my uncontrollable lust. Confessing to Roger what I did will help me avoid similar situations in future.

'But it was nice, wasn't it?'

'Well, no. 'Nice' isn't the word for it. It was fantastic! It was incredible, awesome, indescribable! It was my best ever experience which didn't involve Roger.' But that doesn't make it right! I have to learn where to draw the line. I can't let such an unnatural desire take control of my life.

When I arrived at work this morning, I took care not to walk past Fiona's cubicle - just in case she had already arrived. I haven't had enough time yet to think about what happened between us. My mind is occupied with so many things, I haven't been able to focus on any one of them. I didn't know how to face Fiona and thought it best to avoid her. Luckily, Fiona was tied up all morning in a meeting to discuss a possible solution for her Heavy Metal site.

At lunchtime, I went to one of the tables at the far end of the dining hall, hoping that I would get a chance to bring my thoughts into some kind of order. In hindsight, it might have been a better strategy to share a table with other colleagues who had already started their meal. As it happened, Fiona spotted me sitting on my own and joined me.

Fiona was beaming as she came towards me in long, energetic strides. I could tell that something had happened which pleased her immensely, and that she was dying to tell me about it. But she didn't immediately come out with her news.

"Hi Liz, how are you today?"

I mumbled a noncommittal, "Alright. How are you?"

"Oh! Still tired after last night's exertions? I can understand that. You were fantastic! It was a night I won't forget for a long time."

I remained quiet. At least she hadn't said, "We've got to do this again some time soon."

"Are you going to tell Roger about us?" Fiona asked with a wink.

Her question took me by surprise. The way she asked me sounded as if we were having an affair and I now had to tell my ex-lover that it was all over because I had found somebody else. Probably that wasn't what she meant, but I still thought this was a good opportunity to put things into perspective - my perspective.

"Yes. He'll want to know what happened. It was his idea that I should masturbate in front of you and 'see what develops'. Now, I'll have to tell him what developed."

It was Fiona's turn to be surprised. "He told you to masturbate in front of me? And you did it because he told you to? Are you saying that everything between us happened merely on Roger's request?"

I felt tempted to confirm her suspicion, but I didn't want to hurt Fiona unnecessarily. I also knew that it would have been untrue.

"No," I said. "Roger's suggestion just gave me permission to follow my impulse. What happened took place because we were both very excited. And you are very beautiful. So I lost control."

Fiona didn't pay much attention to my compliment. Her mind had already moved on to the reason for her cheerful mood.

"You know, I had a brilliant idea this morning. I figured out a way of getting him to eat my pussy."

I didn't need to ask which 'him' she was talking about. I was shocked by the frankness with which she expressed her incestuous desire. But one part of me seemed relieved. If she continued to pursue her objective to have sex with her own father, then she might forget about her other crazy plan: that of 'borrowing' Roger for a night.

"I'm going to get myself a nice big carrot. I'm going to go to my room and take off my clothes. And I'm going to masturbate. I'm going to fuck myself with that carrot and I'll imagine that it's my dad's cock. And I'm going to come all over that carrot. I'm going to come until it is completely covered with my juices, until it's impregnated with the taste and scent of my pussy.

"I'm even thinking of taping myself as I do it, and keeping the tape as evidence.

"Then I'm going to grate the carrot and serve it to my dad as a salad. I know that my pussy is going to be soaking wet as I watch him eat my offering. If he asks about the unusual taste, I'll tell him that it's a new dressing made with a secret ingredient."