Fiendish Sex Tales

  Fiendish Sex Tales

  a collection by

  H. Benstead

  Copyright © 2016 by H. Benstead

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-9928053-2-6

  Contents

  1. Workplace Revenge

  2. Dishonest Kicks

  3. Viaggravated

  4. Barry’s Naked Shoot

  5. A Loose Invite

  Workplace Revenge

  1

  Bad employers; we’ve all known them and put up with them, but occasionally there are certain individuals who become compelled to bite back.

  Small victories can often inspire the underdog and it was such a triumph that Ben could see Gemma thirsting after in the days leading up to their last week at House of Fraser, Telford. After which, she would be heading off to college and him to a new job in Wolverhampton, but before that there would be trouble, even though he was not then aware he would be called on to play a part.

  The problem was first apparent when Ben noticed her sideways glances at him as she stood with less than half a mind on work. Instead her brain was conjuring up some form of revenge. He could read her well enough by then without having to ask what she was thinking, being allies in a common cause. But he was not quite prepared to cope with such a devilish proposal that she then conjured up.

  The two of them had got on well during their short employment at the clothes store; struck up an instant friendship and understanding thanks to a shared experience. As a result, they were able to read each other’s reactions, even when communicated by just the slightest roll of the eyes or raise of the eyebrows. In such a way they were able to give each other moral support when the bosses were winding them up. An ingredient that proved crucial for putting up with such a vindictive bunch of managers.

  Despite their camaraderie, their friendship had not extended to outside of the workplace. Maybe the idea of taking any of the experience home with them could not be humoured, while Ben had certainly resisted any flirting with colleagues, feeling it might be a bad habit to get into.

  When it came, therefore, her suggestion served to kick his legs from under him about as mercilessly as she would have liked to kick their boss Carter.

  Ah yes, Carter. She was the stiff-faced tyrant who had climbed to the zenith of Gemma’s hatred and would become the catalyst for this fiendish tale to take place.

  For sure most of the management at House of Fraser were pretty irritating. It was a spiteful workplace, full of unnecessary politics and restrictions on behaviour that were dreamt up by individuals obsessed by their own self-righteousness and place in the pecking order. Ben hoped there would be better employment ahead and was more philosophical than Gemma about the misfortune of ending up with a bad one. Not that he disagreed with her at all; considering their jobs mostly involved folding clothes and returning them to the correct display, it was absurd how particular the management could be about things.

  Carter, on the other hand – Audrey Anne Carter (he had no idea why she had to have three names when two was good enough for most people) – really took things to a new level. Especially with poor Gemma; the two of them proved to have opposing personalities and were ultimately doomed to clash.

  Gemma was a free and easy spirit; fairly straight-talking and down-to-earth, whom Ben found it easy to get to know and get on with. Carter, on the other hand, was a guarded and judgemental obsessive. She never asked a direct question, instead posing queries that appeared to be irrelevant in order to negotiate her employees into an awkward position. Ben soon figured out that she thrived on making people feel inadequate and liked to label each member of staff with flawed stereotypes they then had to carry around with them.

  Ben recalled how Carter had once taken a disliking to a first weeker – who, subsequently didn’t make it to his second. Matt was his name. Sixteen years old and completely unprepared for tackling the sly Carter interrogation. The young lad had looked like a rabbit in the headlights as she took him apart a piece at a time. The only blame he had was in trying to deny some minor error and not being smart enough to know he would be see through, but she had a liking for watching her young victims squirm and took full advantage.

  ‘So you say you were asked to hang all these shirts on the pegs?’ she had asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And don’t you know that no customers will bother looking through them if there’s so many?’

  ‘I was just doing what was asked.’

  ‘So you’re saying that when the manager asked you to hang them up that he was the one who didn’t know what he was doing?’

  ‘No, it’s just…’

  ‘Well let’s call him over shall we.’ And indeed, she did, knowing very well that the instructions were to not hang them so compactly. Matt had not taken in the information properly, but she was able to manipulate the exchange so that, rather than having him look dim, he was actually made to look deceitful.

  Seeing her take advantage of a youngster like that, who was intimidated by his first working environment, ensured that Ben recognised her as a bad egg from the start. For the sake of his own self-preservation, he was able to draw upon his sometimes overly casual nature in order to combat her. If Carter had any good qualities then patience certainly wasn’t one of them and so, whenever she asked him a question, he employed what he had come to think of as his ‘Erm… Hmm’ technique.

  What was by now a very polished approach to any confrontation with the Carter involved a reply of taking a big breath, as if about to respond, then letting out a gradual ‘Eeerrrrrmmmmmm’, before opening his mouth again as if about to finally giving an answer, then instead do a ‘Hmmmm’, then rubbing his chin to indicate he was actually going to think for a lot longer about his response. This method works well to put off the short tempered and so she rarely approached him – though additionally, because he completed all his work chores without complaint, there was no reason for her to point whatever venom she had in his direction.

  For Gemma, on the other hand, the working relationship developed in a completely different manner.

  Gemma was not casual like him; she took pride in appearing alert and switched on, getting to the bottom of issues quickly. Ben imagined she would become a great asset to a better employer someday, whenever she decided on what career she wanted to move into after college.

  That time still seemed far away to her, however, and he knew it was of little consolation to Gemma in her then predicament. She had been Carter’s key focus for torment during her four months at the store; an experience that had left her dying for payback.

  Plus, though the idea of revenge had been brewing in Gemma’s mind for a while, it had become more potent after she handed in her notice. A place had been confirmed for her on a degree course down in Bournemouth, but knowing she was getting out was not good enough; Carter was deserving of some reprisal.

  2

  Soon the two comrades in arms would no longer be in close proximity and Ben had become suspicious that Gemma was planning retribution and that it involved him. Remaining indifferent to workplace politics might become unworkable if she proved persuasive, but had he known how jaw-dropping her suggestion was going to be then he would have handed in his notice sooner.

  ‘Hey Ben,’ came her approach on the penultimate Friday of their employment. ‘Can we have a word while it’s quiet?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, having only been pretending to fold jogging bottoms anyway. He knew she was going to suggest something and was slightly apprehensive, though far more intrigued by what it might be.


  ‘Thing is,’ she began, ‘I’ve really been thinking about a way of getting back at that fucking harpy.’

  ‘I may have had an inkling on that one,’ he replied, with a knowing smile.

  ‘Sometimes though,’ she continued, ‘you need something a bit creative.’

  ‘Creative? That’s interesting.’

  ‘And also you need to step outside of yourself. Being vengeful means doing something that’s out of character.’

  ‘Sounds intriguing, Gemma. I admire your commitment,’ Ben told her, ‘but I can’t help wonder why I’m partial to this information. This would be the kind of vengeance that took two people to accomplish, would it?’

  Gemma smiled briefly, then pulled an expression to suggest that what she was about to reveal was problematic. Which was also when Ben really became worried over what his part might involve. He had sympathy for her cause and wouldn’t have wanted to let her down, but it was obvious that she was building up to something you had to be in the zone to appreciate. Although not keen on the bosses himself, Ben just wanted to get out of there. He was not an anarchic person at heart and considered turning his back on the place to be enough of a rebuke.

  ‘I wanted to know before I go there,’ she then asked, keeping him in suspense a little longer, ‘you’re not going to use these dicks for a reference are you?’

  ‘Oh, not at all,’ he replied. As much as he hadn’t rubbed anyone up the wrong way as she had, Ben did not trust the management to be generous enough to help their former employees. More likely they would not actually bother to respond to reference requests – any excuse not to add to one’s responsibilities – while, if they did find reason to pen a reference, he suspected it would only be for vindictive motivations.

  ‘I didn’t think so,’ she said, nodding in agreement.

  ‘You didn’t think I was that stupid you mean?’

  ‘Stupid no! But how adventurous are you, Ben?’

  Not very, he thought – which was a shame and one he didn’t feel like admitting.

  ‘What on earth do you have in mind, Gemma?’ he asked, urging her to get to the point, then saying, ‘Though I’m almost afraid to ask.’

  ‘No need to be afraid of me, I don’t bite,’ she replied, but causing him even more concern with such a strange comment.

  His irked colleague continued to hold back from voicing her suggestion, but why was she stepping closer and giving him Bambi eyes? Not to mention stroking her fingers sensually over the rack of jeans he’d just folded; subtly enough so as to be able to claim she was not really doing so (he knew her well enough to know she was acting out of character though).

  ‘Ben – I’m sorry to ask – but you’re single aren’t you?’

  ‘I… am,’ he replied, confused.

  ‘And I’m not asking you out or anything, but I’m single too,’ she told him.

  ‘Gemma, I’m not sure what you’re getting at.’

  ‘You know what that old hag would really hate?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘If two of her underlings broke into that office of hers and did a protest bunny-fuck on her desk.’ Gemma had blurted out those last words before turning away to check they were still alone – although it was possible she was trying to distract herself from feeling embarrassed. ‘There you go,’ she then concluded.

  ‘A protest bunny fuck?’ Ben replied. Being astounded helped him to take on board what she was suggesting. ‘Is that a thing?’

  ‘Oh, that came out wrong,’ she admitted. ‘I just mean – you know, to go all the way on her desk and in her office. She’d hate that. She hates it if a second pair of fingerprints ends up on one of her pens – she’s ASD or something like that. It would make her want to burn the office down in order to cleanse it like some strange pagan ritual. Oh, say something Ben and stop looking at me like that.’

  It felt understandable to be speechless, but suddenly he laughed and the tension between them eased. Gemma was not wild and loose with her affections. They had discussed relationships before and she had confessed to being too picky, so she was aware that what she was suggesting was absurd.

  ‘So,’ Ben replied, caring enough to not make her feel awkward about the whole conversation (she really was the only good thing about working there), ‘Your plan is to get caught making the “beast with two backs” on her desk.’

  ‘If you’re talking biblical then you must be getting in the spirit,’ she commented.

  ‘That’s Shakespeare: Othello in fact, which means you’d need a black man.’

  ‘Do you have one?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows. They laughed again, louder that time and were interrupted by none other than the devil herself walking in.

  ‘Nice to see that folding jeans can be so funny,’ Carter announced.

  ‘Sorry Mzzz Carter,’ Ben replied, ‘I’d forgotten that a sense of humour had been completely banned from the workplace.’

  In being the one to respond, Ben was hoping to draw the woman’s attention by acting slightly more insolent than usual. He was leaving after all. As for Gemma, her smile had disappeared as soon as her nemesis popped her head round the corner. He was looking to help her avoid further trouble, if just for one lone occasion – but there was no such luck. Carter had clearly given up on getting one over on him, unable to understand his humour enough to know whether she was winning or not and no doubt just pleased he would be out of her hair soon. With Gemma, on the other hand, she knew exactly how to twist the knife and so she ignored Ben and asked for his colleague’s attention instead.

  ‘Can I have a word about the displays, Gemma?’ she asked, clearly as an excuse to frustrate her some more as punishment for daring to be found with a smile on her face. Ben thought the witch was probably paranoid enough to think they were having a joke at her expense (they were, of course, but that was beside the point – they could have been telling each other ‘Knock knock’ jokes and the embittered irritant would still have landed on the most extreme interpretation).

  Speaking of extreme interpretations, had Gemma really been sincere on suggesting they have sex in Grotbag’s office?

  If such casual invites to sex are the norm in some people’s lives then they had surely never been in his.

  It felt sensible to imagine he had gotten the wrong end of the stick. Maybe she was suggesting they arrange a third party to get involved – but for sure it had felt like she meant the two of them.

  The two rivals were then gone for at least 20 minutes. When they returned Ben could see from Gemma’s face that the exchange had been another that had wound her temper up to the max. As soon as she got the chance, his colleague gritted her teeth in his direction like a spitting cat and made out like she was about to tear her own hair out.

  Carter stayed in close proximity for the rest of the afternoon and they were joined by several customers too, so their conversation was not resumed. Except for one moment when Gemma was able to pass him by, at which time she muttered under her breath, ‘You’ve got to help me, Ben. I want back at her so bad.’

  Ben gave the subtlest of sympathetic smiles in return, knowing they were being overlooked, but did not reply. Passing him again on her way back then, she whispered, ‘I’m all yours, what are you waiting for?’

  It was a rhetorical question there and then, but Ben was left wondering just how serious her intent. Was Gemma indulging in a fantasy in order to help her feel better or would she really go through with breaking into Carter’s office and letting him do as he pleased?

  The exchange seemed destined to go down as one of those moments that a man’s mind wanders back to years later and wonders whether it was a near miss: ‘Could I have been in there?’ For two reasons he didn’t expect to hear any more of it – a) because he did not consider himself lucky enough to have a girl like Gemma suddenly offering no-strings sex, and b) because – even if it might be on the cards – he doubted he had the temperament to pull off something like that anyway.

  Though not a strange
r to sex or lacking of confidence in the bedroom, he did not consider himself to be Lothario enough in nature to perform on demand like a porn star. Most of his intimate moments had been in long-term relationships, with the occasional one-night stand that still demanded a fair dose of sexual tension to succeed. Jumping into such a carnal situation with someone who was neither of these and – perhaps even more problematic – someone he thought of as a friend, could only lead to embarrassing results.

  Tentative as he was, however, there were two wills at work and little did he know that Gemma’s had hardened even further towards discarding all complications.

  This time Carter had made Gemma look like a fool in front of none other than her own aunty, who happened to have been in the store to overhear her being patronised. Just when matters didn’t seem like they could get more personal.

  Plus, what Ben was underestimating, was how much Gemma had thought through the protest before making the proposal to him. Her motto was very much ‘Where there is a will there is a way’, and so all of his own paranoias were just there to be overcome. Spurred on by that last encounter with Carter, her idea had been very much promoted from fantasy to ambition.

  Just because an idea seems crazy that doesn’t mean someone won’t be up for it.

  Had she been the loose type, then Ben would have been the kind of man she would have liked to play naughty games with anyway. Gemma had not been fast or easy, though she was only 19 so didn’t really know what type of girl she was going to turn out to be, but most of the time she really enjoyed playing hard to get. A lot of men who tried to chat her up came across as entitled and she was always more tempted to let them fail, even if they were her type. Ben, on the other hand, was unassuming; the kind of man who made you want to be his friend more than his lover, but under the circumstances she was inclined to sway towards the latter option. He was just perfect in fact. As well as being handsome – more so than he knew – he was not the kind to take too much of a liberty if she could talk him into the deed. Some men might want to go to town on her; mimic the online porn vids they were used to wanking off to and bending her into all kinds of positions. She came close to a bad experience with a lad like that once. He’d wanted to go straight to oral favours and doggy-style even though it was their first time. Too much porn exposure meant he failed to realise that sex in the real world should have been a bit more intimate and gentle for first timers.