The Bookshop Pt 05

During the day after my encounter with Miss Smythe, I began to feel a bit anxious about my CCTV 'pot of gold'. I set aside the whole evening to backup my data, all 12 video streams and all the audio channels were ripped from the bookshop system and kept securely on the cloud. Something told me that I needed to be cautious, and this was justified a few days later.

It was 3.30, and the door to the shop opened forcefully. Miss Smythe came in and stepped directly up to the counter. She had an assertive set to her features, which made her significantly less attractive, with no trace of the confused wet soul she had presented the last time she was here.

'Oh hello Miss Smythe' I said brightly, 'how did the presentation go?'

She was evidently not up for banter and spoke rather shortly: 'Yes, thank you Jack, it went fine, and do pass on my thanks to your Aunt. Now, I need to speak...'

'That's no problem,' I interrupted, 'I haven't had chance to mention it to her yet, but I'm sure she would be fine to have helped a damsel in distress.'

This was clearly the wrong thing to say. 'Look Jack, here are the clothes, washed and pressed with thanks' (she laid a bag on the counter), 'but I have been thinking a little more about the incident and my outburst afterwards. I noticed the other day that you have a CCTV camera above the counter.' She pointed at the offending item.

'Oh yes, after a break-in last month we had to install it to be safe, and with an audio recorder too...' At this piece of news she seemed to blanch, but rather than shrinking back from her haughty tone, she rather grew more agitated and stern.

'Well young man, I rather think that I do not like the idea of a recording existing of me behaving inappropriately during my moment of distress, as you call it. I may well have said regrettable things that a good Christian woman like me would never normally say.'

I said nothing in response to this, in part to see where it was leading.

'I do not ever wish CCTV of the event finding the light of day, so I would kindly like to see the recording destroyed please, right away.'

'Oh!' I said, trying to seem vaguely innocent, 'well, I'm sure that will happen automatically, I mean I think the system wipes everything after a month anyway.'

'That is not what I mean young man.' she said, and there was a harsh tone to her voice. 'I mean that I personally want to see the tape wiped, I want to sit and watch it being wiped by yourself, or your Aunt if you do not know how to operate it. I want to see this done in person, and I want to do so before the week is out. I am NOT joking about this, I take my good reputation VERY seriously.'

'Hey, well, isn't that all a bit over the top?' I said, getting defensive. 'I mean, of course I have no intention of doing anything with the recording (I lied) but I don't think it is for you to make demands. However much you were provoked, it was you that was shouting racist insults, not me or my Aunt, so I thought that letting things lie was a kind thing for me to do, rather than reporting it to the police or anything... ' This last bit was probably a bit too strong, but I was starting to resent her tone.

This response was not what she wanted or expected to hear. In school she had always got her own way, she was that kind of teacher. 'I take my reputation in this town very seriously, and if I do not see that CCTV deleted I will make it my priority to drag you and your Aunt's name through the mud with everyone in this community... do I make myself clear?' She was ranting now. 'The mayor is a very close personal friend, and he owes me a LOT of favours, so if I ask him to humiliate you or that Aunt of yours, then that is what will happen. are you now clear young man?!'

'Yes.' I said meekly, but inside I was seething. How dare she threaten my Aunt? In an instant I knew exactly what I had to do. Straight away I said: 'OK Miss Smythe, you will have it your way. I will pull all the CCTV footage offline on Friday night when we close, and will rewind back to when you came in and delete the whole hour. I can't wipe everything for that day as we sometimes have to look back to see when books have gone missing, but I don't think my Aunt needs to see any of what you said... and you don't need to threaten her to get your own way.'

'That will be fine.' she said, visibly relaxing. 'I don't mean to sound horrid.' She put on a winning smile, clearly thinking that she had bullied me into submission. 'You may have always thought of me as a bit hard as a teacher, but underneath I am really quite soft and kind.' She wore a false smile on her face, the dragon of 30 seconds ago hidden entirely. 'I do care for all my former pupils, I love all the boys and girls that I teach, and I wouldn't want you getting into any kind of trouble, so let's just keep this between the two of us shall we? ... I've just ... well I've had a difficult few days myself...' she started to say more and then seemed to catch herself, 'Anyway, it is not for me to bare my soul to a young man like you. So... I'll be off, and see you Friday 5pm sharp.'

'Thank you Miss Smythe' I said, as she turned and walked out, although my mind was already elsewhere. I plodded through the rest of the afternoon, then at five I shut promptly, went upstairs and went to work in earnest.

A bottle of beer in one hand and the mouse in the other, I sat in front of my PC with the most powerful video editing software I could afford now downloading. What a cow, I thought to myself for the umpteenth time. How DARE she threaten us like that... and how stupid was she not to realise that all her threats, and her claim to have the mayor wrapped around her little finger, were ALSO on CCTV.

The first thing I did was quite simple, pulling a long stream from the main camera above the counter of the day she came in wet and swearing and I added the counter microphone feed to it. I did zoom in quite a bit on the middle and blur the edges a little, both so she would not think that it could capture views of where she got changed, but also so it would clearly show very clearly her breasts gleaming in her translucent wet top. I then named this with a dull sounding title linked to the date. Being over cautious, I created a whole weeks worth of similarly named files (albeit these were all blank)- and made a folder called CCTV master upload on the desktop. I remembered to create a dummy feed for today in the same way, just in case she realised that her latest rant was also pretty unsavoury, but I suspected she would not even think of asking me to delete it.

That was 60 minutes of easy work, but no fun. Now, a second beer in hand, was my time to shine and put all my film studies classwork to good use...

Firstly I created a paper timeline of 'splashgate' as I decided to call it. Then I reviewed all the footage on every camera and noted what was potentially useful, angles that caught her nakedness most effectively, for example, frames when she was angry or smiling. Then, (and this was probably the most boring but important step), I wrote down everything she said, both during splashgate and in today's encounter.

You see, I didn't intend just to preserve all the images and sounds, which would be amazing to rewatch, but rather invest time to fully reorder everything, with my best editing skills, and create a much more interesting and explosive bit of film.

This plan had begun right back when she was getting changed, as it was clear that what she was saying could be used far more creatively if I stripped it from the pictures and added it elsewhere. With multiple camera angles I could splice in any words I liked whenever a back shot was used. Her behaviour today had shifted my idle plan into an all consuming plan. As I wrote down some of her words ("I do care for all my students" "...turn round and look..." "You were always a bit shy and needed some encouragement...") my mind was buzzing with pure wicked delight at the potential editing. In fact I nearly came right away, when I reolised that I could splice the words, "turn around young man" with the footage of me turning slowly to look at her, (rather than when I looked away) and follow it it with some of the over flattering words I said to her... I could then splice in the shots of her naked, staring crossly towards me as if I were watching her, squeezing into a bra that was too small. Then I could overdub her saying how much I needed help to overcome my shyness... Fuck, I could do so much with what I had, it was going to be good, so good. Friday would bring even more footage if I planned it right.

This film could be the work of weeks to complete, and offered me, finally, a distraction from endless fantasies about Aunt Sue.

The last thing I did before Friday was double check the camera and audio systems in the flat, which to that point I had never got round to activating. I did wonder how I would have been able to function if that blowjob from Sue had been recorded. It was probably a good thing it was never filmed or I would have been glued to the screen like an addict. I had the flat cameras all set up nicely by the end of Thursday night and was ready both to put Mrs Smythe off my tail and hopefully capture some more footage of her in the flat, and more good audio. With luck, there would be enough to complete my own version of a real bookshop voyeur porn movie.

As 5pm Friday came near I was nervous, but when she arrived, bang on time and dressed far more enticingly than I ever really seen her (light blouse, quite open and loose, tight skirt) I knew she was going to try and continue the charm to ensure she got her way. Bitch.

'Right young man,' she said, with a smile, 'shall we go do the deed?'

'That's fine,' I replied, ' you'll need to come upstairs and watch it through with me.' I had to hide my smirk at the thought of all the one liners she had inadvertently been feeding me (and I was deliberately slipping in) for the audio. 'I'm afraid I haven't had chance to get into the system and pull up the relevant footage yet, but it should be pretty easy to find.' I saw a flicker of relief cross her face. 'The feed doesn't come down to the shop.' explained, 'so come up where it is private. Can you lock the door behind you?'

Without hesitation she did so (one more scene for the clip). 'I'll change the sign to closed.' she called up.

'Yes please!' I replied, and waited at the top of the stairs as she came up and looked around the flat.

'You have a nice place here.' she said politely.

'Well, it does get a bit lonely, now my Aunt works away mostly.' She nodded absentmindedly with a smile and followed me over to the PC. 'I believe all the footage is loaded automatically on to the desktop here, or so the security firm told my Aunt, so I should be able to simply look up the date and go from there.'

I sat on the chair and deliberately did not offer her one, so she had to come closer and lean over my shoulder a little. She was, I felt, a little closer than necessary. I was right to think she was going to try and play me with her charms, clearly worried about what was on the CCTV. I was delighted, as the angle of my shelf camera should be getting a perfect view of her 'charms' looking down her loose blouse, and the one behind would have a nice shot of her tight skirted backside as she leant over me. So far so good.

I pulled up the right date folder and clicked play. I fast forwarded from the beginning, stopping a few times when figures came in, as if I didn't know the exact time to jump to, but soon landed on the moment she came in. I had, during the week, invested in a much larger screen for the PC and it was now stunningly clear. I had also turned the speakers on and up. There she was, in all her wet glory, shouting and swearing loudly (I had slightly clarified audio in the editorial process so every word was crystal clear). On screen we watched together as she took off her coat, and my large monitor perfectly rendered every feature of her breasts, each showing beautifully through a translucent shirt and pink sexy bra. Everything was deliciously obvious and her globes glistened. Each nipple stood proud with a clear dark shadow around. As the scene unfolded I could be seen to dash off as the hero of the hour as she stood, bemused, still swearing under her breath like a trooper, offering a perfect show of her body to camera.

At this point I took a risk and froze the scene, moving my chair back a bit, and looked at her face as she watched the monitor. It was ghostly pale, with horror etched across her features. Whether it was her racist language or just how clearly her breasts were exposed that caused her pain I didn't know, or care. She glanced down and noticed my raging hard-on, which I had decided to let show through loose pants (I had my reasons, bear with me...). Horror turned to indignation.

'How dare you sit like that staring at my breasts as if I was some kind of sex object! Don't think I don't know your kind, getting off on watching women, staring at theit tits like they're an object to be viewed and played with.' her blood was clearly boiling.

'All men are the same. it's all about sex sex sex'. she fumed. She clearly did not see the irony in her saying this with her loose blouse half open, seeking to distract me with those self same breasts that now sat, in freeze frame on the screen. Her rant did not stop, however. My hard-on was obviously an affront too far.

'I bet you that's your fantasy isn't it, watching women. I bet you wanted to watch me the other day when I had to get changed in the bookshop... don't deny it, I could see you thinking about turning around like a peeping tom.'

She was trying to humiliate me I know, but then a worried look crossed her face for a second. She glanced at at the screen. I think she was suddenly wanting to reassure herself that the area behind the shelves could not be seen by the CCTV. Oh, how little did she know...

'OK ... I admit it is my sort of fantasy,' I said, deliberately trying to ramp up the temperature of the conversation. 'Is there anything wrong in a young man appreciating the sight of amazing breasts? It's quite natural isn't it?'

Strangly, this seemed to quieten her rant a bit, whether becase it was somehow flattering or because she didn't want to get into a conversation of this kind I don't know, but I was glad. It was time to move on and get her out of the picture.

'Let's just get on and wipe the relevant bits off shall we and stop this childish nonsense shall we?' she said, more calmly.

I made a clear show of using a simple editor to delete a whole hour, from 10 seconds before she came in. This only took perhaps two minutes to complete. I tried to look a bit despondent doing this, but really it was closure for me. Her relief was palpable, and I hoped was strong enough to distract her enough from the fairly obvious possibility of copies being made.

Would you like a drink to settle the nerves?' I asked suddenly. Again I knew this was a liitle strange to offer, but my intention was to keep her uncomfortable enough not to think clearly.

'No no.' she said, waving a hand and standing upright. 'Look,' she said, now feeling on safe ground, and she smoothed down her top subconsciously. 'I know young men have passions and desires, but I am not here to be leered over by you or anyone else. Women deserve more respect, and to be treated as an object of worship and adoration by their husbands. (She was now sounding more like the preacher) We are not there to be stripped naked by the fantasies of a young man. I think we better get back downstairs shouldn't we?'

I agreed and walked her back down. 'Thank you for doing that for me.' she said, 'I do appreciate you keeping things private and discreet.'

'No no thank YOU for everything,' I said, 'I will never forget a single moment of today, it helped me learn about women and respect.' She smiled sweetly at this, and walked out of the shop.

I locked the door behind her, switched the lights off, walked upstairs and whooped with delight.

...

The next two hours was spent writing down all the new sentences spoken. Looking at the CCTV footage of the camera pointed down at her chest as she leant over me was just as erotic as the previous naked scenes, and I admit I was 'distracted' for a while from my task. This was going to be an epic video I thought, cock in hand, just when my WhatsApp video call rang. Shit, I thought, it was Aunt Sue. I let myself go and tried to cancel the phone in my pocket, but inadvertently answered the call, so rapidly tried to compose myself, cock still raging (hopefully) just out of view.

'Hi Jake, you OK?' she said, 'you look a bit hot...'

'No, I'm OK, just working on the PC.'

'Oh, OK, as long as your not clogging my PC up with porn...'

'SUE,' I said, 'would I?' with my best 'butter wouldn't melt in my mouth' look. 'Anyway, that's what my smart phone is for' I quipped, which I thought might shut her up a little.

'That's a thought I don't need' she said, 'you call me with that phone...'

Over the last few weeks our daily chats had been good, never awkward and pretty much back to how things used to be. If anything, we were both more willing to be more risque in our teasing. Distance seemed to make this safe, allowing a little flirting, if you could call it that... Teasing had always been part of how things had been with us, but now it was OK to talk about stuff like porn, albeit obliquely. I think at some level she was getting some pleasure from teasing her young nephew, and I wasn't going to stop her.

I changed the subject. 'Talking of smart, how is that office manager of yours doing?' There was a long term accountant-cum-manager that Mike had promoted a few months before he died who was clearly bright and capable, but didn't seem to work for Sue with any of the enthusiasm she had for Mike.

'Oh Abi is alright really, it's just hard work when someone seems to resent your very existence.'

'Don't worry Sue, I'm sure she'll come to love you like we all do.'

As we spoke I was thinking through all Mike's journals, trying to remember what is said about Abi, but surprisingly, nothing came to mind. What did come back to me was all it said about Sue, graphic and precise description of sex on the office desk, and I tried not to make eye contact with her for a moment whilst I regained my focus.

'Maybe Mike just let her have her head and she resents you getting properly involved...?'

'Ah, it was easier when Mike was here,' she said, not for the first time. 'I think I have finished sorting most of the paperwork out now, but his writing was so over detailed it takes forever.'

'Isn't it just!' I said, without thinking...

'Why, what have you been reading of Mike's?' she asked, puzzled, 'aren't all the bookstore records in my writing?'

'Oh' I said, realising my slip up, 'erm, well perhaps his style has rubbed off on you.' I said lamely, with a chuckle.

'I don't think so, or at least I hope not. He couldn't describe taking a shower in less than 100 words!'

'haha' I said, trying desperately to think about how to move the conversation on, but I was again distracted by remembering exactly the subject of showers in the journals: a very long description of sex with Sue pressed tightly against the glass, teasing him loudly, asking if he was man enough to take her ass after he had already filled her up... (He was)

I coughed, realising that I was leaving too long a pause, and I was still on WhatsApp video. I focused back in, and saw she had propped the phone up next to the sofa to reach out for a drink, so hadn't really noticed my distracted moment. I could, however notice very easily that quite a lot of breast was trying to escape her pyjama top. My cock was pulsing, unattended, but was fortunately well out of view.