Chapter 5

Thursday December 16^th

Lucy was in a fowl mood first thing this morning. She was obviously hungover from the party last night. She certainly wasn’t talking about it and spent the whole morning staring at a glass of water.

Then, when I got back from lunch she seemed to have cheered up a bit. She came over and sat on my desk – always a bad sign. She had on a short kilt that left a lot of leg on display, although that’s nothing special these days. The women in the office seem to think they can dress as provocatively as they like. “Angie was saying you get quite horny because she’s not letting you have any prick sex.” Lucy smiled and leant back, stretching her legs forward.

“I’m surprised you found time to talk about me.”

“Don’t be silly. Angie’s your sponsor. She worries about you. Anyway don’t worry. She said she wouldn’t mind if I did you now and again.”

“Wouldn’t mind if you ‘did me’ now and again?”

“Yes, just to release the pressure sort of. We know how you men are slaves to your appetites. She doesn’t want to; party rules and all that sort of thing. I don’t give a toss though. I can have your prick up me and not feel oppressed for one moment.”

“Thanks for the complement.”

“Come on. I fancy a good fuck. An office Christmas Party without men isn’t that much fun. I missed getting a furtive fumble behind the filing cabinets. You’ve got to keep up the traditions.”

“What in here? Now?” I knew there wasn’t much sense in trying to argue with her.

“Why not? There’s no one much in the office. I’ll lock the door.”

That didn’t make me feel any more secure.

“Come on over on the couch.” Lucy grabbed at my belt and had my trousers undone by the time she had pulled me across the office. She pushed me down on my back, pulled my trousers and pants down to my knees and straddled me.

Embarrassingly, my cock was only too willing to leap to attention. Either it’s got used to bossy women or it’s feeling under used. Lucy reached down and stroked me behind the balls. My cock responded enthusiastically. Lucy grinned. “See it wants to play, even if you don’t.”

She stood up, lifted her skirt, and pulled her pants and tights down. She was as keen to get on with it as I was for her to finish and in a moment she was sliding her cunt down over my cock, sprawling down on my chest and sticking her tongue into my mouth, and squeezing my nipples, as she pushed her hips to thrust against me.

Lucy was nothing if not enthusiastic. She was quite happy to bounce up and down on my prick for as long as it took. I tried to join in with my hands at one point but she just said, “Don’t! Just put you hands over your head. I can do it myself.”

She carried on bouncing up and down on my dick. She obviously wasn’t interested in whether I was gettign anything out of it, just as long as I stayed stiff enough for it to be fun for her. She sat back at one point and poured some more wine into her glass. Then she started up again.

Eventually she’ came, bucking back with a loud, “Mmmmm!” grunt before she climbed off my aching cock and laid down beside me.

Lucy giggled and almost dropped her glass. The wine had obviously just topped up the previous evening’s intake. “Don’t get too used to it though. It may get a bit more of a problem if the MCP stuff comes in.”

“MCP?

“Shhhh – I’m not supposed to say anything about it. Just a New Order thing. Don’t worry about it. Come over here and give me a frigging, I’m still feeling the need.” I did what I could and she seemed to get off again. The trouble was my cock was still as stiff as anything and aching too. She didn’t seem very interested.

Afterwards I was thinking about “MCP”. The only MCP I knew of was the old 1970’s term : Male Chauvinist Pig”, but I didn’t think this was anything to do with that. Lucy was stretched out on the couch, still pissed, shagged out and asleep. In pulling her pants and tights back on she’d managed to tuck her skirt into the back of her tights.

I was starting to get nervous about leaving. It was getting close to the time the last bus that would get me home before curfew. I was wandering around the office working out if I should just go or if I should wake her up and tell her I was going or what. Then I noticed a folder on her desk with “MCP Support Services Proposal” on the cover. I shouldn’t have opened it but, as I did, some photocopied pages slipped out. There were about a dozen, all the same, entitled “Overview for Bidders”. I was curious I guess, and took one, folded it up, and slipped it into my pocket. I suppose I told myself Lucy would be expecting me to work on it anyway. As I put the folder back, Lucy grunted and rolled over.

I took the opportunity to leave. “I’m just ... You know ... the curfew...”

“Yeah, whatever,” Lucy grunted. She rolled over, realised that her skirt was caught up and said, “Fuck.” She scowled at me with a look that said, ‘I know you’ve been staring at my arse’. “Don’t be late tomorrow. You’ve got a lot to do.”

It was only after I got home that I looked at the paper. I’ve hidden it. I’m really sure that I’m not supposed to have it and I don’t know what I’m going to do.

Friday December 17^th

Lucy has got one of her power suits on today – dark tailored jacket and knee skimming straight, skirt teamed with a bright yellow shirt. She’s obviously looking to impress someone. Not me, of course. She hasn’t mentioned the MCP bid today. I’m hoping she hasn’t missed the page I stole. I saw her taking the MCP folder to a meeting but I had plenty to do, working on the budgets for the South Merryside project and it wasn’t like I was invited to take part in it or anything.

The MCP thing is incendiary. MCP stands for Male Chastity Programme. According to the page I found, New Order believe most poor MDDM is because of male sexual obsession and that the problems it causes can be reduced my restricting male sexual activity. They reckon where sponsors have done this already dissident activity is reduced. The policy would allow sponsors to get their males to wear an “approved chastity device” and have it monitored by the Government. Companies are being asked to bid to manage the service.

I wonder if Angie has got anything about it. I’ll keep my eyes open while I’m clearing up at home.

Got back home after work and Angie was waiting. “Don’t forget to put on your overall before you start cleaning. You don’t want to mess up your office clothes.” That made some sort of sense but a pair of jeans and a tee shirt would have been just as good. I feel a right dick in this dress thing but Angie just looked amused as I got on with clearing up the kitchen. Angie was watching television while I cooked the evening meal.

“Can you just bring me mine,” she called as I said food was ready. “I want to watch this and then I’m going out. Party meeting.”

I took her food through, she said to hang on while she ate it as she wasn’t going to be long. The TV news had an interview with someone explaining how the new financial services measures were having a beneficial effect. Imports were down substantially and local manufacturing is improving. Some were arguing that it was to do with the cost of labour, others saying that its down to “improved decision making in the business community” - i.e. men aren’t involved.

Angie seemed to enjoy the meal but she didn’t say anything until she’d finished and then it was, “Maybe Lucy was right about getting you a nice black uniform so you can wait at table,” as she gave me back her plate.

I really feel I have to do something with this. I’ve tried to go along with things but this and the MCP thing seems a step too far. I’m going to try to talk to Harry.

Monday December 20^th

I slipped out of the office at lunch time and went back to the cafe where I’d seen Harry back in November. The bloke behind the counter said he didn’t know where he was but I hung around and had a coffee and a sandwich and after about half an hour Harry came in.

“I couldn’t say anything about South Merryfield,” I said, “that was my boss that picked me up. I think she and the Male Control Force were watching me after the visit.” Harry looked nervous for a moment. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t followed here today, though.”

“That’s OK,” said Harry, “I solved it another way.”

I told him about the “Consultation on Future Policy Proposals” stuff that I’d found but he didn’t seem very interested. “Yeah, that goes on all the time,” he said. “They don’t push anything down to the local party groups that hasn’t been fairly well batted around first. Most of it sounds like stuff that’s already public. Don’t you read the newspapers?”

Then I explained about the bid document. Harry didn’t seem surprised but he did seem interested in it. “Can you get me a copy?” he said.

“I’m not sure that I could let you have it. I mean it would be obvious where it came from, wouldn’t it. I transcribed it though, look.” I gave Harry my handwritten version that I’d copied out. He read it through there and then. He obviously thought it was important.

“I won’t say anything about this,” he said. “That way if anyone asks you can you tell them you didn’t give me the document and I never talked about it.”

I felt pretty uncomfortable. I’ve never really liked the idea of making trouble for anyone and basically I’m a law-abiding person who tends to follow the rules and wonder about whether or not they are right later.

I’m the opposite of Harry in that respect. He’s always been a “why should I have to do that?” sort of bloke.

That probably explains why he’s living without a sponsor, trying to stay one jump ahead of the Male Control Force, and I’m stuck with a girlfriend that’s turned into a New Order Valkyrie and a job with a boss that thinks “employee benefits” means being able to shag her assistant anytime she likes.

Wednesday December 22nd

The local branch association for New Order organised a Christmas party. Angie insisted that I accompany her. “What’s the point of bothering with sponsoring you, if I can’t show the rest of them that I’m doing my bit for changing the nation? You can come along and enjoy it.”