Rod Johnson pulled my skirt up as Julie Wicks and another girl pinned me against the tree. It was my birthday, and I'd wanted to get home quickly for the family party my mother had arranged. Aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbours... Everyone was coming. Stupidly, I'd taken the risk of cutting across the common on my way home from school. The short cut saved about fifteen minutes, but I should have known that the Brook Street Gang would be lying in wait for me.
"Look at her cunt," Rod laughed, yanking my navy-blue knickers down to my knees. "Do you frig your clitty?"
"Finger her dirty cunt," Sally Brompton giggled. "Shove your finger up the fat cow's dirty cunt."
Squeezing my eyes shut, I felt Rod's finger running up and down the moist crack of my pussy. The whole gang were there, watching the degrading act, laughing, leering, calling me filthy names. I wasn't exactly fat, but I was certainly chubby. In my teens I'd been plagued with spots and greasy hair and I wore a brace to straighten my teeth. Some of the other girls were beautiful. Slim, tall, attractive with shining hair and amazing figures... I longed to look like them, dreamed of turning from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan.
"Show her your cock," Sally Brompton said, grabbing Rod's crotch.
"Yeah, make her touch it," Julie rejoined. "Go on, Rod. Force the spotty slag to suck the spunk out of your cock."
Rod dropped his trousers and proudly displayed the erect shaft of his penis as the girls forced me to my knees. I'd never seen a penis before. I must have been the only virgin in the school. All the girls had done it, I knew as I gazed at Rod's huge balls. They'd all had sex. The daily chatter in the playground continually centred it. The girls would swap stories, and I'd have to listen to who had done what with whom the previous evening. Brian Rogers had a huge cock. Ian Williams was a good fuck. Robin Hodges shot out more spunk than the other boys put together.
I despised Southmoore School, hated every aspect of it. I was always making out I was ill, just to get a day or two off. I played truant whenever I could get away with it. Falsifying dental appointments, dreaming up funerals... I did whatever I could to get away from the school. But the Brook Street Gang were always there, making my life a misery. Even during the holidays, they'd hang around at the end of my street. I became fearful of leaving the house, feeling sick every Monday morning.
Grabbing my wrist, Julie made me touch Rod's penis. She wrapped my fingers around the warm shaft near to the base of his rock-hard organ. His pubic hairs tickling my hand as Julie held my wrist and Rob swung his hips, I knew that I couldn't take his cock into my mouth. The very thought sickened me. Did the girls suck his penis? I couldn't understand why they'd want to do such a thing.
His foreskin rolling back and forth, his purple knob repeatedly appearing and disappearing, he began gasping. Sally grabbed my blonde hair and yanked my head up. I thought she was going to force me to take Rod's penis into my mouth, but she just held me there as he rocked his hips and moved his penis back and forth within my clasped hand. Their fun was derived from humiliating me, degrading me, forcing me to expose the most private parts of my body. Why me? I'd lie in my bed at night wondering why they'd chosen to destroy my life.
The white liquid finally jetted from Rod's purple knob, raining over my face as the girls held me tight. Running down my cheeks, dribbling down my chin and splattering my school blouse, his sperm continued to shoot from his penis as the girls giggled and mocked me. Cumslut, dirty whore, spunk-lover... Sally moved behind me, her hands moving around my body, her fingers unbuttoning my blouse. My bra lifted clear of my breasts, shrieks of laughter resounded around the common as Rod's sperm rained over my erect nipples.
My audience gathered round as Rod's sperm splattered my breasts and trickled over the smooth flesh of my stomach. I'd never felt so degraded, so ashamed and embarrassed. Sally suggested that Rod push his penis into my mouth. She called it throat-fucking. Grabbing my head, she pinched my nose with her fingers, forcing me to eventually open my mouth and gasp for air. She hissed her vile expletives, called me flea-bag, fuck-face, cumslut, cunt-mouth... Luckily me for, some people were approaching, their voices growing louder - and the gang fled.
Crawling into the bushes like a wounded animal, I hid not only from the passing people, but the world. I felt dirty, degraded in the extreme. My pleated skirt was covered with stains. Spunk. As I cupped my breasts in my bra, the sperm soaking into the material, I swore to have my vengeance. I didn't know how or when, but I did know that the day would come when I'd vent my revenge on each and every member of the Brook Street Gang.
"Southmoore," the mechanical voice bellowed through the Tannoy as I stepped off the train. Working in London, I never thought I'd return to my home town. My family had moved away, I had no friends there, so there was no reason to return. The town harboured dreadful memories, nightmares, and I'd sworn never return - until the MD had announced that the company were opening new offices in Southmoore and I was to head the project. Walking out of the station, I looked at the familiar shops, the road leading to the common. Memories flooding back, I wondered what Rod Johnson was doing, what he'd turned out to be. Where was Sally Brompton? Was Julie Wicks still around? Perhaps they'd married, moved away and... Perhaps they were still living in Southmoore.
I was twenty-eight and, although I say it myself, had turned from an ugly duckling into a fine swan. Slim, tall, attractive with long blonde hair... The chubby teenager with the greasy hair and brace had transformed into a stunning young woman. If I did happen to run into Sally or Julie... They'd never recognize me. I tried to put all thoughts of the Brook Street Gang behind me as I walked the short distance to the new office complex. Rod Johnson, Julie Wicks, Sally Brompton... I'd moved on, and could only hope that they had.
"Miss Michaels?" a young man asked me as I walked into the building.
"Yes," I replied. "You must be Walker."
"That's right. John Walker, junior assistant to..."
"There's no need for details," I cut in coldly.
"No, of course not. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Michaels. Your office is on the top floor. If you take the lift..."
"Thank you," I interrupted him. "I'm sure that I'm perfectly capable of finding the top floor. Send some coffee up, would you?"
"Certainly, Miss Michaels."
I didn't like creeps who thought they could climb the promotional ladder with their pathetic pleasantries. Arse-lickers, Dave called them. Dave Bryant was the managing director. He was a tall, good-looking man in his mid-forties. He was also married but that hadn't stopped him throat-fucking me whenever I was due for promotion. The casting couch? Perhaps I was as bad as Walker? He was an arse-licker, and I a cock-sucker.
My office was large and airy with a view of the common. Unfortunately, I could see Southmoore School, kids milling about in the playground. From my top-floor office, they looked like ants. I'd been an ant once. Were the girls talking about fucking the boys? Were they excitedly telling each other how they'd wanked so-and-so's cock and watched the spunk shoot out? Southmoore School. The bane of my teens. But I'd moved on. I was successful, the deputy managing director of a huge medical supply company. Where was Julie Wicks? Working in a burger bar?
"Your coffee, Miss Michaels," Walker said, knocking and entering with a tray. "The interviews..."
"Are they here?" I asked, checking my watch.
"Three of them are."
"There should be six. Right, if the others turn up, send them packing. If they can't get to the interview on time, they don't deserve the job. Send the first one up."
"Certainly, Miss Michaels."
As Walker left, I poured my coffee and pondered on the interviews. I didn't want to waste time talking to pathetic women about their previous jobs and wading through references that were more than likely a bunch of lies. I needed a personal secretary, and quickly. There was work to be done. Setting up was what virtually a new company was a daunting task. But hard work was my forte. Since starting with the company when I left school, I'd thrown myself into my work. And, step by step, climbed the ladder to success.
As the first girl knocked on the door and entered, I sat behind my huge desk and invited her to sit opposite me. She was well-dressed, her black hair very long but neat and tidy. She was about my age, which pleased me. I can't abide silly girls who waste time doing their nails and talking about boys. Reminiscent of Southmoore School? Silly girls have no place in a successful company.
"You are?" I asked her, taking a file from my briefcase. It was most unusual for me to be disorganised.
"Brompton," she replied. "Sally Brompton."
Frowning, my heart racing, I raised my head and stared hard at her. I could barely believe that this was Sally Brompton. With long dark hair and a pretty face, her full breasts billowing her white blouse... When I'd last set eyes on her at school she'd had very short hair and her tits were virtually nonexistent. She'd changed beyond belief. But so had I. She obviously didn't recognize me as she wrung her hands nervously and looked about the office. Memories again flooding back, I recalled her words that afternoon on the common, on my birthday. Finger her dirty cunt. Shove your finger up the fat cow's dirty cunt.
Was this the day I'd been waiting for? I wondered. All those years ago, I'd sworn to have my vengeance. Had my time come? I was about to inform her that she wasn't suitable for the post when I had an idea. I'd derive little satisfaction from turning her down. I'd be better off hiring her and then sacking her a week or two later. Better still, I'd take her on and... Sally Brompton would get the job, I decided. And her time at Dagridge Medical Supplies was going to be sheer bloody hell. What goes round comes round.
According to the file, the little bitch had done well for herself. She'd climbed the ladder of promotion at an insurance company and had become PA to the MD. Not bad going for a slut. She enjoyed the job, she enlightened me. But she wanted to expand her horizons and thought Dagridge Medical Supplies was the sort of go-ahead company... I'd heard all this crap before. I'd interviewed dozens of people who had expressed a longing to be part of a dynamic team, blah, blah, blah. Bollocks. They'd wanted a job that paid well, that was all. They didn't give a fuck for the company. I fired all the usual questions at Sally Brompton and made notes as appropriate. I then asked her about her personal life.
"Married?" I said, catching her dark eyes.
"No," she replied, somewhat sheepishly.
"Kids?"
"No, no children."
"What do you do in the evenings?"
"The evenings?" She frowned, obviously wondering what the right answer was. "I watch TV or perhaps go out with friends," she finally replied.
"You don't get pissed every night?"
"No, of course not."
"Good. I can't have you turning up late with a hangover. Do that once, and you're out."
"You mean, I've got the job?"
"Yes, you have."
"Oh, thank you," she trilled.
"Don't get overexcited," I snapped. "There's a three-month probation period. If I don't like you..." Shove your finger up the fat cow's dirty cunt. "Should I decide that you're not suitable, you'll be out."
"Yes, yes I understand."
"I'm a bitch," I said, obviously surprising her. "You'll find that I'm a hard bitch to work for. That's how I got where I am. By treading on toes, using people... The staff call me the bitch from hell. Fill in this form."
I passed her a form and scrutinised her as I sipped my coffee. She was extremely attractive. Nothing like I would have imagined her to be. Remembering her from school, I would have thought she... She'd been a bitch at school, but wasn't a patch on the bitch I'd become. I was queen of the bitches, and proud of it. I gazed at her fingernails as she filled in the form. She used to bite her nails, but now they were long and painted red. Her blouse falling away as she wrote, I spied the firm mounds of her breasts.
She'd forced me to suck her nipples one Friday after netball. We were in the changing rooms. She'd waited with her gang until the others had gone, blocking my exit and giggling as she unbuttoned her blouse. The gang had forced me to suck the buds topping her breasts. They laughed and called me names as I suckled on each nipple in turn. Before allowing me to leave they made me take my knickers off. I had to walk home naked beneath my skirt. But now the worm was turning. Sally Brompton was soon to discover that I was the bitch from hell.
Her long black hair veiling her face as she filled in the form, I knew she'd never discover I was the Rachael Michaels she used to take great delight in abusing. My surname hadn't changed, but I was known as Fiona Michaels. I'd taken on the name Fiona after my mother passed away. My father missed her terribly, and I became Fiona. Even Dave Bryant didn't know me as Rachael.
"When do I start?" Sally asked, pushing the completed form across the desk. "I have to give a month's notice so..."
"You'll start today," I interrupted her.
"But... I have to hand in my notice, and I can't let my boss down like that."
"Of course you can," I said. "There are others waiting downstairs. I'll have no trouble finding a suitable applicant to fill the post. You'll start now, or forget it."
She bit her lip and frowned. "All right," she conceded with a sigh. "I'll start now."
"Good. I think I'm going to like you, Sally," I lied. "There are a few ground rules. You'll call me Miss Michaels at all times. You'll do as I ask when I ask without question. And don't go fucking other members of staff."
She locked her dark eyes to mine. "Pardon?" she gasped, frowning at me.
"I don't want you getting fucked by male members of staff. Once you've been fucked, you won't be able to concentrate on the job. Fleeting kisses, knee-tremblers in the lift, a quick blowjob in the... Get yourself fucked, and you won't be able to give the one-hundred and fifty percent I expect of you."
"Yes, I understand," she murmured.
"Good. OK, your office is through that door. Go and take a look. When you've done that, familiarise yourself with the building. This is also my first day here so I can't help. Not that I'm interested in where the canteen is, of course. Well?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Go on, then."
"Oh... Yes, right," she murmured, smiling as she walked towards her office.
"Er... Sally," I called, feigning a pained expression. "I see you're wearing trousers."
"Yes, I thought..."
"You'll wear short skirts in future. Men should look like men, and women like women. You'd better go home and change. No doubt you'll want to collect your things from the insurance company."
"Yes, I'll have to empty my desk."
"OK, do that after you've looked around the building. It's now ten-thirty. Do what you have to do, have some lunch, and be back in my office at two."
"Yes, Miss Michaels," she replied obediently.
I was loving every minute of this. But, more, I was looking forward to the future. I couldn't believe that Sally Brompton was, at long last, in my grip. She and her cronies had destroyed my earlier years. But now the tables were about to turn. I'd make sure she left the office late on the days she had something planned for the evening. I'd overload her with work; grind her down until she was an exhausted wreck. I'd not only make her time at the company a complete misery, but also her private life.
Wondering whether she was still in contact with the other members of the gang, I watched as she emerged from her office and walk towards the door. She mumbled something about looking around the building before leaving and closing the door behind her. Perhaps she'd kept in touch with Rod Johnson, I mused, finishing my coffee. He'd fucked her often enough. They'd always got on well together at school. Two of a kind. Perhaps he was still fucking her?
"What do you want, Walker?" I snapped as he knocked and entered.
He fidgeted with his tie. "The filing cabinets have arrived, Miss Michaels," he informed me. "The men are..."
"And? What the hell has that got to do with me?"
"They want to bring them up to your office."
"Now?"
"Well, yes."
"Tell them to come back later. I'm busy now."
"But, Miss Michaels... They've come all the way from..."
"I don't give a toss where they've come from, Walker. I'm busy."
"Yes, of course. I'll tell them."
I suppose my attitude was a result of what the Brook Street Gang had put me through. After a horrendous time at school, and then my mother passing away... I admit that I'd become angry and bitter. But it had been my attitude that got me where I was - and allowing the MD to fuck my mouth, of course. At school I'd been weak, frightened, timid; far removed from the successful bitch I now was. I had the Brook Street Gang to thank for that. And my ability to suck Dave's cock with expertise.
I'd first sucked cock on the common while being pinned to the ground by Sally Brompton and Julie Wicks. I hadn't been taking a short cut, but had been dragged onto the common by the gang after school one afternoon. The boy's name was Brad Masters. He was a thug and a bully, just like the other members of the gang. He'd taken his trousers off and was waving his cock at me when Sally Brompton had suggested that he fuck my mouth. I remember the salty taste of his huge knob, my lips rolling back and forth along his veined shaft as he repeatedly drove his purple plum to the back of my throat.
I'd swallowed his sperm, much to the delight of Sally Brompton. I'd had no choice. His knees either side of my body, his weight resting on his hands, he'd mouth-fucked me, throat-fucked me. He'd finally stood up and pulled his trousers on as the others had laughed at the white liquid bubbling between my lips. Julie Wicks had repeatedly kicked me as I lay coughing and spluttering on the ground. I'll never forget her shoe swinging into my stomach, my chest, as she'd called me a fucking slut. Sally Brompton had spat on me before leaving. I can still recall her saliva running down my face, mingling with the boy's sperm...
"Hi, Fiona," Dave Bryant said, grinning as he entered my office. "How's it going?"
"I've hired a secretary," I enlightened him.
"Any good?"
"Yes, she's fine."
"OK, I've got the figures you wanted," he said, sitting opposite me and brushing his dark hair back with his fingers. "Fuck me, it's hot today," he complained, tossing a file onto the desk. "Is there no air conditioning in here?"
"I switched it on when I arrived. Perhaps it's not working."
"I'll get it sorted. We need another two girls for the sales office."
"I thought that had been dealt with, Dave?"
"Tim Black fucked up."
"That doesn't surprise me."
"We'll have to advertise again, which takes time and..."
"I'll ask Sally whether she knows of anyone," I interrupted him.
"Sally?"
"Sally Brompton, my new secretary."
"Ah, right. Yes, yes that's a good idea. We need two girls as soon as possible."
"Leave it with me."
"Thanks, Fiona. OK, I'm going to take a look around. Do the big boss routine and frighten the new members of staff. What do you reckon of Southmoore? I know you've not had a chance to see the town yet..."
"Southmoore is... I think it's going to be OK, Dave."
"Good. I know you had your reservations. Have you given any more thought to moving here?"
"Yes, I've decided to find a flat. Coming in by train every day won't be much fun. I'll phone a few estate agents this afternoon."
"OK, keep me posted. I'll be invited to your house warming, no doubt?"
"No doubt."
"We might even sidle off and..."
"I'm sure we will, Dave. I'll try to find a place with a garden full of bushes, just for you."
"We'll slip into the garden when the party is in full swing and you can show me around," he chuckled. "What are you doing for lunch?"
"Er... I've nothing planned."
"Great. There's a pub over the road. The Hen and something."
"Yes, I know it."
"I'll see you there. About one?"
"I'll be there."
"Great. See you later."
I suppose I hadn't sucked Dave off purely to secure my promotion. I was feeling down when I'd first unzipped his trousers and pulled his cock out. A boyfriend had left me, gone off with some other woman. I was in need of... I don't know what I was in need of. A throat-fuck? Dave's marriage had never been exactly stable. What with the hours he worked... I suppose we were both in the wrong place and the wrong time and... I'd knelt on the floor and sucked his cock. It hadn't become a regular thing, maybe a couple of times a month. He liked it, I enjoyed it... And, of course, it's good to keep the boss happy.
Southmoore was a smallish town and I wasn't really surprised to see Rod Johnson in the pub. For a moment I wondered whether Sally had arranged to meet him there. But he was with a couple other men and, thank God, he didn't recognize me. I watched him from the corner of my eye as I ordered a vodka and tonic. He was looking me up and down, obviously wondering whether I fucked. Sitting on a bar stool, I listened to his conversation while I waited for Dave.
"She's going for an interview today," he said.
"Have you heard from her?" one of the men asked.
"No, I haven't. We'll find out tonight when we see her."
"When we fuck her," the third man laughed.
"Shush, Brad," Rod whispered. "We don't want the whole pub to know."
Brad? I thought, eyeing the man. Was this really Brad Masters? Shit, this was a small town, I reflected, wondering who the third man was. When we fuck her? What the hell did they get up to? My heart racing, I thought of the Brook Street Gang. Sally, Rod, Brad... They were too old to play games now, weren't they? Surely, the gang had fallen apart when they'd left school. Gulping down my drink, I ordered another one and continued to listen to the conversation.
"I don't know where Julie has got to," Rod murmured, looking across the pub as the door opened. "She told me that she'd be here."
"We'll see her tonight," Rob said, downing his pint. "She never misses a meeting. Beers all round?"
A meeting? This wasn't a meeting of the Brook Street Gang, surely? I was going to have to keep my eye on Sally, try to glean a little information as to her night time activities. Checking my watch as I downed my second vodka, I wondered whether Dave had been help up. Ordering another drink, I decided that it would be my last. I had work to do, and didn't want to get pissed in the middle of the day. Sitting at a corner table, I watched the three gang members as I sipped my vodka.
The door swinging open, I lowered my head as Sally Brompton breezed into the pub. She'd been home and changed into a short skirt. Her legs were long and slender. I had to admit that she really did look good. This was going to be interesting, I thought as Rod bought her a drink. If she noticed me... I made out that I hadn't seen her as she looked my way. She nudged Rod, obviously telling him that I was her new boss. She was about to walk towards my table when another girl entered the pub and joined the group - the gang.
"Hi, Julie," Sally trilled. My stomach churning, I stared at the girl. Julie Wicks. The little bitch who had... Forgetting the past, I turned my thoughts to the present. Dave had said that we needed a couple of girls for the sales office. How ironic it would be if I employed Julie Wicks. Gazing at her pretty face, the deep cleavage of her breasts revealed by her partially open blouse, I couldn't help but recall the past. Her shoe repeatedly driving into my stomach, my chest, as I'd lain on the ground with sperm bubbling from my mouth...
I stared at the girl, remembering, seething with anger, hatred welling from the pit of my stomach... This wasn't going to do me any good, I knew. My stomach knotting with anger wasn't going to help. At least I now knew that the gang was still in existence and that they held meetings. Thankfully, none of them had recognized me. Were the other members still around? I wondered. Apart from Sally, Julie, Rob and Brad, there was Kathy Higgins and Kenny Smith, Lucy Barlow...
"Hallo, Miss Michaels," Sally said as she approached, her face beaming.
"Sally, sit down for a minute," I said, a wicked plan coming to mind. "We need a couple of extra girls for the sales office. I was wondering whether you might know of anyone?"
"Er... Well, Julie isn't happy where she is. That's the girl I was with over there."
"Yes, I can see her. Is she computer literate?"
"Oh, yes. She uses a computer all the time."
"She appears to be presentable. She speaks well, I hope?"
"Yes, yes she does. Shall I send her over?"
"No, no. I don't conduct interviews in pubs. My office at three o'clock sharp. If she's interested, that is."
"I'll tell her, Miss Michaels."
"You do that, Sally," I said, downing my vodka and standing up. "And don't be late back."
"No, no I won't."
Leaving the pub, I made my way back to the office and pondered on the Brook Street Gang. I knew that I could easily allow them to take my mind off my work. I was going to have to be strong. My work was the priority, the destruction of the gang came second. Easier said than done. Images of Kathy Higgins sitting on my face looming in my mind, I couldn't help recall the taste of her vagina. Kenny Smith had pinned me to the ground, allowing Kathy to rub her clitoris over my mouth. She'd come, her sex juices streaming over my face as Kenny had sucked on my small tits.
"Julie will be here at three, Miss Michaels," Sally announced as she entered my office.
"Good. You've done well, Sally. I think we're going to hit it off, don't you?"
"I hope so, Miss Michaels."
"So, what are your plans for this evening? Are you doing anything interesting?"
"I'm meeting my friends, the people I was with in the pub."
"That'll be nice. Have you known them long?"
"We were all at school together."
"Ah, an old school gang."
"Yes, yes we did have a gang."
"I never kept in touch with my school friends," I said, smiling at her. "Mind you, I went to school in Scotland. What was your gang for? I mean, was it just a group of friends or something more sinister?"
"We... we were just a group of friends," she murmured.
"Our little gang was called the Highland Babes, of all things," I laughed. "What was yours called?"
"We were the Brook Street Gang. We still are."
"It's still a gang?"
"Yes. We still meet regularly and..."
"And what, Sally?"
"We just meet, that's all."
"I see. Right, we have work to do. Switch your computer on and familiarize yourself with the spread sheets we use. The company data base... Here's a list of people who need updating. Our new address, phone and fax numbers and the like. You'll find the details on the letter-headed paper which should be in your office unless Walker has fucked up again. It's a boring job but it has to be done. You'll find all the names and addresses in the data base. E mail each contact with our new details."
"Yes, Miss Michaels," Sally murmured.
"If you have any problems, give me a shout."
As she went into her office, I sat behind my desk. I felt smug, a sense of satisfaction welling from the pit of my stomach as I pondered on my plan. Sally would spend the best part of the afternoon working on the computer. The work had to be done properly, and I was sure she could manage. But I might have to insist that she work late into the evening. There would be mistakes that she'd have to correct before leaving the office. She'd have to go through each entry again and change something. I'd dream up some mistake or other later, I thought, wondering where Dave had got to. I was going to enjoy having Sally as my personal secretary. I was going to enjoy taking her to hell and back.