Room 2D

From Uniform Girls 19, following on from  Bringing it to Life . By the Wednesday of Christina’s week with Sir Richard, the pretence that she is there to assimilate the feel of her part as a Victorian maid has worn very thin, although it is still maintained superficially so as to provide each of them with a face-saving front behind which to hide. Without it, Sir Richard would be obliged to appear undisguised in the role of villainous lecher, and Christina as the star-struck hopeful that she is, ready to sacrifice all for her art — or if not for that, then for the promise of fame and fortune. Fortunately she has not made the mistake of demanding of Sir Richard, ‘What  do  you think I  am !’; Sir Richard would doubtless have been unable to resist the cliched riposte, ‘We have established what you  are , Madam; now we are merely haggling over your price.’ As it is, however, the maid still pretends that she...

From Blushes 39 Mr Lindop is a very bookish man. You could imagine him as a professor or something. With that serious expression, the half-rimmed spectacles, his balding head. Do professors have balding heads? They probably do. Most of all he almost always has his head in a book. As he does now. Even here in this hotel room. While she, Miranda, is in the cupboard. On her knees… Not Miranda, Teddy. ‘I think I’ll call you Teddy then,’ he said. In that shop, in the lingerie department. ‘What’s that called?’ and she said, ‘It’s a teddy.’ He wouldn’t believe her but of course she was right. He bought one, pale cream, silk. It was expensive. And then he said, ‘That’s what we’ll call you then: Teddy.’ Here in the hotel room she had to put it on. The teddy and the white high heels. Everything else off. And get in the cupboard. Kneeling on the bare floor with her arms raised above her head. Why was he making her do this? To torment her? ...

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From Blushes Supplement 18 ‘Would you like some coffee?’ Mr Brown asked. ‘It’s Brazil of course so no pollutants or anything. A pure beverage.’ Mr Brown was probably not his real name but he was a Third Deputy so very senior. Senior people in particular in the Organisation had to be careful with names. The authorities were very wary, clearly scared of a group dedicated to purity in food and the environment. Well naturally, when so many big pockets were lined with the profits of contamination and pollution. Jane shook her head of bouncy brown curls. She was just Jane, a rank-and-filer, no one needed to know her surname anyway. Just a pretty girl convinced that the Organisation’s aims were right. A pretty and shapely girl of 19. That was why she was here: this little cottage out in a secluded part of Sussex. ‘Are you sure? I’m having some. That drive down was exhausting. Fumes of course. The roads are thick with fumes.’ Mr Brown, fiftyish, had a slightly ascetic look but otherwise ...

From Blushes 35 The lances of cold water made Caroline gasp, the shower dancing spray round her naked body as she flicked the tumbling wet blonde hair off her face and allowed the jets to force the water into her half-open mouth. It had been a hard match. A good match, too, even if they had lost. Pity about the argument over that line-call, but at least she’d given a good showing of herself. Turning, the therapeutic water massage was directed onto her back and, with a half-step forward, onto her firm buttocks. The runlets of water found their way into the passage between the cheeks, cascading across the rounded flesh, and caressing her intimate folds before running down the insides of her thighs to the tiled floor below. ‘Caroline?’ ‘Yes?’ ‘Come out of there!’ She groped for a towel, and failed to find it until the assistant coach pushed it into her hand. ‘Thank you miss.’ ‘Mr Harleston wants to see you… immediately.’ ...