Blac & White

It started out like any other day in the office. Coffee. Traffic jam. Gossip in the elevator. An early morning conference followed by a quick trip to the bathroom in search of relief. Yes, Cat thought as she scanned the empty bathroom. Just another day in the office.

After confirming the bathroom was empty, Cat hurried past the row of sinks and stalls without taking her eyes off her goal: the end stall. Her sanctuary. Cat locked the door and slumped against it with a sigh, grimacing as the sound broke the silence of the empty bathroom. Her hands moved with practiced ease and within seconds, her slacks were undone and her fingers were pushing aside the waistband of her panties. Cat let her eyes drift shut and nearly hissed when she felt her own wetness. It was embarrassing to know someone else could have such an affect on her - someone who would be

very

upset to find one of her employees furiously rubbing their clit on company time.

Cat opened her eyes as the reality of the situation began to sink in. She was masturbating in a public restroom only a few doors down from her boss's office. And this wasn't the first time. Cat blinked hard and glanced up at the harsh fluorescent bulb that was nestled in a generically tasteful light fixture. It had been recently replaced and bathed her in a flood of white light that eliminated any chance of concealment. She might as well have been standing under a spotlight. In fact, the only thing separating her from total exposure and humiliation was a thin stall divider and a bathroom door. How long would it be before someone else came in?

A jolt of excitement ran down her spine as she thought about what would happen if that door opened before she finished. Would they hear her or see her first? Would they know what she was doing? Would they smell her? Cat's breath quickened. How many of them already knew or at least suspected?

Did

she

know?

Cat's free hand drifted under her shirt to give her nipple a hard pinch. There was never time to really enjoy herself. But then again, she wasn't doing this for enjoyment as much as relief. Cat closed her eyes once more and focused on the source of her frustration. Images of long, toned legs and tight ass surfaced in her mind. She thought of a mass of dark hair in an elegant, efficient French twist and imagined it freed from its restraints, tumbling in waves as it fell over sleek, olive-toned shoulders. Cat could almost feel that hair brushing against her skin as a pair of full lips worked their way down to the junction of her thighs, not hesitating before -

"Are you alright in there?"

Every cell in Cat's body turned to ice and her hand and hips - which had begun rocking forward on their own accord - came to an immediate standstill. She knew that voice. Oh god. She knew that voice all too well.

"Miss Catherine Young, is that you?"

Cat opened her mouth and tried to convince her throat to form words. "Y-yes," she stammered. She cleared her throat before trying again. "Yes, it's me."

"Are you okay?"

The question sounded less like a concerned inquiry and more like an accusation. Heat rose in Cat's cheeks as she quickly tried to piece herself back together. "I'm fine, Ms. Stark. I was just feeling a little nauseous earlier, but I'm fine now. Thank you."

The sharp clack of heels on hard tile echoed in the bathroom as Regina Stark moved to stand in front of the stall door. Fuck. Cat reflexively smoothed the unruly wisps that sprang free from her hair clip. How did she not hear her come in?

"I'm glad to hear you're alright, but I'd feel much better if you let me see for myself. I can't have my employees playing down an illness just so they can meet deadlines."

Something hidden in the rich notes of her voice made Cat shudder. She didn't sound at all concerned about Cat's well-being. Cat's eyes darted around instinctively. No mirror. Not even a slightly reflective surface. She would have to hope she looked more composed than she felt. With a growing sense of resignation, Cat opened the door and tried to look everywhere but at the intimidating woman before her.

An awkward silence stretched between them as Regina gave her a careful once-over. Regina took her time, clearly taking note of her flustered expression and rumpled shirt. Cat squirmed a little under the scrutiny and caught Regina's barely concealed smile. It was the same sly move Regina often made at the negotiation table before claiming victory. It was how she let the competition know she was very much aware that she had the upper hand. Cat had always enjoyed watching the way Regina managed to undermine the confidence of even the most arrogant businessmen. Now that she was the target of that stare, Cat found she hated it.

Part of her loved hating it.

"Tell me, Ms. Young," Regina said, her hushed voice destroying the stillness of the bathroom as surely as if she had shouted. "Do you often feel nauseous?"

Alarm coursed through Cat and she again found herself at a loss for words. Her reticence seemed to amuse Regina even more and Cat suddenly felt smaller and more exposed than ever before. Regina shifted her weight to one foot and crossed her arms.

"No answer? That's fine. You don't need to explain yourself," Regina assured her.

Cat forced herself to not step back when Regina advanced toward her. She was so close Cat couldn't help but wonder if Regina could hear her racing heart or see the nervous sweat building up in her hairline. "I'm sorry. I must've eaten something bad or - "

Regina cut her off with a terse shake of her head. Her eyes narrowed, giving the impression of being annoyed rather than angry. "I said you don't need to explain yourself. I'd rather you say nothing than feel compelled to lie." Regina's stance relaxed slightly and she reached out to play with Cat's crooked collar. She turned her dark eyes onto Cat and fixed her with a challenging look. "Did you think I wouldn't notice what you've been doing?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Ms. Stark," insisted Cat.

Regina tsked and leaned in until Cat could feel the taller woman whisper into her ear. "More lying? We really must break you of that habit. I really prefer honesty, and I'd like it if you told me why you always feel the need to rush off to the bathroom after our daily department meeting."

"Because... I need privacy."

Regina hummed, obviously pleased that Cat was beginning to comply. "Why do you need privacy, Ms. Young?"

A long-fingered hand traced a line across her the bit of collarbone left exposed by her blouse. Cat shivered and she barely managed to stifle a gasp. "I need privacy so I can take care of my... problem."

"Mm. How

do

you take care of your problem?" When Cat didn't answer, Regina backed her up against the wall and grasped Cat's chin so she could maintain eye contact. She repeated her question more slowly than before. "How do you take care of your problem?"

"I touch myself."

"Here?" Regina delicately pressed her fingertips against Cat's hip. When Cat shook her head, Regina's fingers drifted towards the inside of Cat's thigh. "Here?" Cat gave another wordless shake, then a silent groan when Regina slid her hand higher. "Ah. Right here, then. Yes?"

"Yes," Cat rasped.

"What do you think of when you touch yourself? Who do you think about when your pussy is wet and aching?" Regina left her occupied hand where it was and used the other to squeeze Cat's shoulder. "Is it someone here? Is that why you have to hide in the bathroom?"

"Yes."

Regina pressed her palm hard against Cat's mound. "Yes to which question?"

"It's someone here." Cat struggled to keep her hips from surging forward in a plea for more pressure. She slammed her eyes shut and let her head fall against the wall with a thud. "I'm thinking of someone here."

"Who?"

Cat bit her lip and shook her head, not caring if she drew blood. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream. A horrible, horrible dream.

Without warning, Regina slipped her hand into Cat's slacks. "Who?" She demanded.

Cat opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Regina drove two fingers inside her, then a third, stretching Cat with an unexpected fullness. "Who makes you so wet? Who's on your mind when you fuck yourself?" She gave another unforgiving thrust. "Who are you thinking of when you come, Ms. Young?"

"You! Oh god, please. I'm thinking of you," said Cat, clutching desperately at Regina's forearms.

That maddening hand abruptly vanished and Cat almost cried out at the sense of loss. She dared to meet Regina's gaze and found a satisfied smirk.

"Good," she said. Regina backed away, turning to face one of the gleaming stainless steel sinks. She kept her eyes on Cat's reflection in the mirror as she tugged up her shirtsleeves and washed her hands in a disturbingly perfunctory manner. "You've been taking time from my company. I believe that's tantamount to theft," she said over her shoulder. She waited until she was done before speaking to Cat again. She dried her hands and casually fixed the cuffs of her oxford shirt. "The way I see it, there are two ways we can address this problem."

Cat gave herself a mental slap and focused on what her boss was saying. "Theft? I- I can make up for the lost time, Ms. Stark. I swear. I can come in on the weekends and -"

Regina waved a dismissive hand. "That won't be necessary. I've already made up my mind."

Shit, thought Cat. She was about to be fired.

Regina continued on, ignoring Cat's panicked expression. "We can pretend this never happened. I won't say a word to anyone and

this

," she said with a vague gesture, "will have no impact on your career. But if I catch you again - if I even

suspect

you're stealing from me again - you'll be out of here so fast you won't know what happened."

Cat swallowed hard. "What's the second option?"

The smirk reappeared on Regina's face. "When you come in tomorrow, show up wearing a red skirt."

"A red skirt?" Cat asked, almost forgetting the other woman had been inside her only a few minutes before. "That's not exactly acceptable business attire."

Regina arched a delicate brow at that and Cat felt her face burn. "I'll let you think on it," she said with a natural sense of indifference. She smoothed an invisible wrinkle in her pencil skirt and strode out of the bathroom without another word, leaving Cat to wonder what exactly she had gotten herself into.