Transference Ch 01

"What's strange is that I've never been sexually attracted to women so I don't know why I took the bitch in."

"The 'bitch'?" The therapist asked.

Kara Brandon blushed slightly, "I'm sorry, I don't usually talk like that. Her name is Meredith Logan."

The therapist smiled a benign smile, "Transference."

"Excuse me? Transference?"

"Why you took Meredith in and have been having a sexual relationship with her after you caught your husband in bed with two women."

Kara waved her hand dismissively and smiled cynically at her therapist, "Standard shrink answer, eh, doc? Mind if I smoke?"

The therapist shrugged her shoulders and smiled back.

"Hey, what can I say? That's what they taught me to say in school. And you may smoke if you like, I don't mind. Of course, you realize it's illegal in this building."

Again Kara smiled another cynical smile as she took out her cigarettes and lighter.

"Have you smoked long?"

Kara already had the cigarette between her lips, her thumb ready to strike her lighter.

She stopped.

"Uh, no," She sounded introspective and maybe a bit embarrassed, "No, I uh, I just started when I threw Dave out." She looked inward for a moment, considering what she'd just said and then lit up.

She sat back in her chair, casually crossed her legs, straightened her business skirt and exhaled slowly.

"So you've suddenly started a sexual relationship with a woman even though you never found yourself sexually attracted to women and you've started to smoke - with disregard for the law. Any other changes?"

She hesitated a long time before answering, hoping that the shrink would move on to another question. But the shrink was patient.

"I've started to drink a bit. And I...I've gotten uh, cruel or mean, I suppose you could say."

The therapist said nothing. Her only reaction was a slight shift in her pleasantly bland expression.

Kara took notice, felt a pang of guilt and translated the slight facial reaction of her therapist as, "Why am I not surprised?"

"Cruel or mean with everyone or just the bitch?"

Kara's face flushed, she looked at the floor, took another deep drag of her cigarette and blew it out quickly, "Just the bitch." She didn't realize the therapist had used Kara's own terminology for Meredith. The therapist made a note on her pad.

"And do you enjoy it?"

"Being cruel? I well..."

The therapist wasn't going to push. "That's okay Kara, our time's up. See you next week?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

~~~~~~~~~~

Kara Brandon was the all American girl: 36, the mother of two small girls, a divisional vice president of a Fortune 100 company.

Married to her college sweetheart at age 22. Brought up in a nice Protestant church environment.

She was actually a virgin on her wedding night, not that her husband-to-be and a good number of frat boys didn't try - with extreme effort - to take her cherry.

She was tall and lean.

She had medium long blond hair styled in a pageboy that framed a classically oval, beautiful face.

After 14 years of marriage and two children everything that was supposed to be firm and toned was still that way - with the help of a gym and a personal trainer three times a week.

Her husband was a successful contractor and they lived well in a large house in a gated suburban community.

She was active in their church, taught Sunday school, lead a women's Bible study and volunteered for several charities.

Everyone liked Kara; Kara was nice to everyone, which was unusual for a woman in her position.

And she never saw it coming.

Coming home a day early from a business trip she was going to surprise her husband with a nice romantic dinner. She was a romantic at heart and thought her marriage and family life were close to the American ideal.

She did surprise her husband at 2 in the afternoon, in their bedroom, in their bed.

He was with his secretary and another woman who turned out to be a welder in his construction company.

Her husband was fucking his secretary doggy style.

He had her hands tied behind her back with the belt to Kara's favorite robe; the robe she wore when they made love.

The secretary was on her knees, her ass up in the air and her chest on the bed with her head in the welder's lap.

He was alternating between fucking her rapidly, his belly making an obscene slapping sound against the woman's ass, and slowly stroking her.

They were sweating; he was calling her names, obscene names, and occasionally whipping the woman's shoulders and ass hard with his belt.

The welder, the other woman, was propped up in bed - on Kara's side of the bed on Kara's pillows - wearing Kara's favorite robe. Kara noted that the robe was obscenely open - because the belt was binding the secretary - and the welder's large breasts, along with her belly and sex were on prominent display.

The welder had the fingers of one hand tightly interlaced in the secretary's hair pressing her tightly to the welder's sex. With her free hand the welder was pulling on her own nipple.

When Kara's husband wasn't verbally abusing his secretary, the welder half whispered obscenities to the secretary to urge her on.

Cruel things, Kara thought.

Mean things.

But the secretary was sweating, groaning, moaning and occasionally screaming as the leather belt cracked hard against her skin. And she seemed to be absolutely enjoying being the center of attention for the moment.

Kara's first reaction to the scene was astonishment and embarrassment,

That rapidly turned to hurt,

That rapidly, and just for the briefest moment, turned into extreme lust, as she watched the woman welder so harshly (she thought) dominate the secretary,

That rapidly turned to revulsion; it all seemed so vulgar and crude. They were like animals,

And then she got angry.

Very angry.

By 6 o'clock that evening Kara's husband was out of the house.

By noon the next day he was served with divorce papers.

By 4 PM the next day Kara had hired an au pair to care for the girls while she was at work and to help out in the evenings with home life.

Three days later, Kara began her secret life when she met Meredith Logan for the first time.

Seven days after that she got a therapist.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kara sat in her office reviewing a 4-inch thick file that had been compiled by the corporate IT security staff. She knew they did random checks on computers on the network but they usually left managers and above alone.

The file was on Meredith Logan, an accountant in charge of accounting project management in Kara's division. Kara was given the file by the vice president of Human Resources, told to thoroughly review it and either fire Ms. Logan or refer the case to Legal for possible criminal charges.

The file was divided into three sections. And quickly reviewing the file she noted none of the information in the three sections could be construed as criminal. There were no records of padded expense accounts, data theft or tampering with system programs.

The entire file was about Ms. Logan's sexual activities online during office hours.

The first section was short: all the web sites the woman had visited while from her desk in her office, how often, and when.

With the exception of MSN and Google all the sites were porn sites - lesbian, swinger or BDSM sites. And, Kara noted, even when the woman surfed to Google, she was looking up sexual things.

Kara was both fascinated and disgusted with the first section.

The second section was thicker.

It was a collection of pictures that the IT security staff had gleaned from the woman's hard drive. There were only about 60 pictures, done off a color printer. This was not a random representation of what was on her hard drive. The report explained that this was two days' worth of collecting.

The woman would download pictures and movies and then burn them onto CD's and then delete the files on the drive using a scrubber programmer.

"It figures," she quietly smirked to herself as she looked at the first picture with a mixture of disgust and bemusement. The IT security people were all men. She was sure they had chosen the most lewd pictures they could find.

The first picture was of four women.

Three women gathered around one woman who was on her hands and knees and blindfolded.

The woman's hair was wetly plastered with sweat to her face and neck and her body was sleek and shiny with sweat. She had a smallish body with small, almost flat breasts and a soft body with a belly that hung down ever so slightly.

Kara couldn't see the woman's face except in profile and her eye and ear were covered in the photo by a black box. She looked as if she had been repeatedly used. Somehow - the way the woman's mouth was open or the way her legs were spread so wide possibly - something gave Kara the impression the woman liked what was being done to her just like her husband's secretary in Kara's bed that horrible day.

The first of the three other women was kneeling behind the woman, hands tightly gripping the woman's hips and it looked like the woman wore a vibrator in some sort of a harness and was fucking the woman. (Kara would later discover the vibrator in a harness was known as a 'strapon' and she would learn to love it.)

The second of the three women took a similar position kneeling at the woman's head. She was holding out a large penis shaped vibrator in a harness (maybe like the one the other woman had) to the woman with one hand and with the other hand guiding the woman's head - and mouth - toward it's tip.

The third of the trio stood beside the woman being raped - at least that was how Kara envisioned it - and was whipping the woman's back with what Kara would later learn was called a "flogger."

Kara was disgusted with the picture and turned the page.

At the end of 40 some odd pages of pictures, all downloaded yesterday afternoon according to the report, Kara Brandon felt funny.

She felt flushed, first of all.

She stood up from her desk and removed her suit jacket and unbuttoned her blouse down to her bra. When she stood she noticed that her crotch under her panty hose and panties itched and was hot.

She sat back down.

She returned to the pictures. The next one she came across was a picture of a blonde woman with her hair drawn back tightly in a bun, with a toned body, who looked approximately Kara's age. She was wearing an open white robe reclining in a chair.

Between the woman's legs was an older woman. The woman's body was soft, white. Her hair was curly red and was loosely pulled up into a topknot. Except for a pair of black pumps and a thin gold chain around her belly she was nude.

The younger woman had her hand in the kneeling woman's topknot holding her tightly to the younger woman's shaved sex.

There was a look of extreme pleasure as well as a look of extreme contempt(?) on the younger woman's face.

Kara whispered to out loud, as if she were the younger woman in the picture, "Suck my clit, you fucking cunt! Make me come. Now!" It was what she heard the dyke welder say to her husband's secretary.

When Kara heard her own voice, say what she had just said, she was stunned. And even more shocking to her was that she realized the hot, itchy feeling she was experiencing in her panties and now in her bra was that she was aroused.

Extremely aroused.

Kara stood quickly and ran her hands through her hair.

She was a bit disoriented.

She went to her private washroom and splashed water on her face.

"This is insane," she whispered as she looked at her flushed face in the mirror.

Kara came back to her desk. She looked at the open file, the third section still unread. She locked her office door.

"Rita, hold all my calls and I'm not seeing anyone, okay." Kara's voice was shaky.

"Mrs. Brandon, are you all right?"

"Yes!" Kara stopped herself, took a deep breath. She sounded panicked even to herself. "Yes Rita, I'm sorry. I'm fine. I just need some time to go over some files and I can't be disturbed."

Sitting at her desk she unbuttoned another button on her blouse, pulled her hair back into a ponytail and started on the third section.

The third section was the thickest.

It contained transcripts of online chats from three different chat providers.

On one service Meredith Logan was pleasureslut_42. On another she was luvu2hurtme_42 and on the third service she was bitches_toy.

The transcripts also contained each user name's profile. The summary of all the profiles was essentially this:

42 year old, red haired, professional bi single woman with no attachments. More into women than men but like couples and groups. Extremely submissive. Into whatever you want to do with me or to me. Love to meet and be used in RL.

The summary for bitches_toy included the line, "Whore me out to your friends or strangers. I'll do anything you want."

The transcripts were graphic.

Kara couldn't finish them.

She slammed the file shut and frantically pushed back from her desk.

She was short of breath and her face and chest were even more hot and flushed. Her nipples ached and the burning in her crotch had increased greatly.

Kara reached for her bag and pulled out a cigarette and lighter and with shaking hands lit up.

A strand of hair fell over her face. She forced herself to put it back in place and calm herself as she slowly blew out the drag.

The file lay on the desk.

It demanded attention.

It demanded action.

It called to her.

Kara snubbed out the cigarette and went to her washroom. She took her bra off, noticing - and maybe for the first time enjoying - the feel of her breasts and her swollen nipples and areolas as they moved against the cool smoothness of her silk blouse.

She pulled her panty hose off but left her panties on. She took a moment to notice and feel the slickness that lubricated her thighs.

She liked the sensation.

She ran her hand across the crotch of her panties and they were soaked. She put her fingers to her nose and sniffed.

She liked the smell of her arousal. She'd never noticed it before.

She wanted to feel more.

Purposefully Kara went to her desk.

She stuffed her bra and hose in her bag. She pulled out a bottle of bourbon from her desk drawer and poured a good measure in her coffee cup. She lit another cigarette and then hooked her laptop to her private modem line.

She dialed her ISP and went straight to the instant messenger site that bitches_toy used and created an account: gillette_blade_36.

bitches_toy was online.

Kara nervously typed a message:

"I'm an associate of spyder_mistress. She said I could use you whenever I pleased. You're a whore."

She hit the enter key.

A minute passed.

Then another.

Kara thought maybe Ms. Logan was away from her desk.

Then a transient fear swept her: maybe spyder_mistress wasn't the type to share. Kara had read her transcripts. They were filled with cruelty and dominance and very rough sex. Maybe Ms. Logan would know that spyder_mistress would not lend her out.

The instant messenger came to life.

"What do you want me to do?"

Kara gasped.

"Take off your panties and make yourself come. Do it quickly little whore (a phrase spyder_mistress was fond of using with Ms. Logan)."

"I...I'm sorry, Mistress. I'm at work."

Kara fired back.

"Do I give a fuck where you are bitch? Just do as you're told."

She hit enter.

"All I have to do is tell spyder_mistress of your insolence."

"No. Please. I'm sorry. I'll come for you. Is there any particular you want me to do myself?"

Kara's heart leapt. My god, this woman is asking me how I want her to come!

"Do you have any sort of bottle that you could fuck yourself with?"

There was a 30 second delay.

"A glass bottle of frappucino."

"Fuck yourself with the bottle while you frig your clit. Do it now."

"Yes, Mistress."

The screen went still. Kara leaned back in her chair, lit another cigarette and waited.

Five minutes later:

"I...I'm finished Mistress. It was good. Thank you."

It took Kara a couple of minutes to reply; she had done something that she didn't remember doing since she was 14.

She used to sit in school and press her thighs together and orgasm in class. She got quite good at the technique, especially in Mrs. Bankson's English Grammar classes that were incredibly boring. Kara became multi-orgasmic thanks to her boredom, Mrs. Bankson's banality and a vivid imagination.

No one ever suspected until one day she got caught - sort of - a substitute teacher noticed Kara's flushed face and chest and her apparent distraction with class and put two and two together. The substitute never had any hard evidence and Kara denied the charge vehemently. But the urge to confess was too much: Kara visited the Principal's office - together with her parents, who brought their minister - and tearfully confessed all.

That was the last time she can remember masturbating.

Now, the thrill of someone doing something so - dirty - at her command drove her back to the old technique. She sat in her chair, shaking with pleasure; beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead, her upper lip on down to her exposed chest.

If she had been talking to this person on the phone she would have never been able to pull off the absolute non- caring attitude that she typed. She was breathing hard and she was sure her voice would have reflected her post- orgasmic state.

"Do you think I care about your pleasure, slut?"

"No, Mistress, I'm sorry."

"What do you want me to do next?"

"Just a moment, bitch."

Kara pressed her intercom button and in a calm, clear voice called her secretary: "Rita, tell Ms. Logan in C-247 that I want to see her immediately and that she is to bring her bottle of frappucino. Immediately Rita. And the bit about the frappucino bottle is important."

"Certainly, Mrs. Brandon."

Continued in Transference Ch. 02 - Meredith Logan