Katherine put down the phone, letting out a sigh and blinking from her stupor. She couldn't quite remember exactly what it was that had transfixed her so thoroughly - something on Twitter, or an email or something, those were the usual culprits - but whatever it was had robbed her of 20 minutes of her workday. Mentally shaking herself awake and chastising herself internally for the unprofessional scrolling, she put her hands to her keyboard and re-focused on the screen once more to log back into her account and resume the task she was actually getting paid for.
As Katherine tapped in her password, her eyes flicked upwards to the top of her monitor, where a webcam sat, staring unblinkingly down at her. When her screen didn't change after her finger depressed the 'enter' key, she blinked and looked down. "Incorrect password - try again." Showed on her display, above a large "OK" button. Sighing, she focused on her stupid little hands typing the stupid little word and tapped it out once again, hitting enter and - logging in. She sighed exasperatedly once again, and this time went right to her emails to get back to work.
It had been such a long day. Katherine's crotch burned with heat as she pulled the car into her driveway and practically shot into her garage, barely missing the door as it slowly scraped and groaned upwards into the ceiling. Squirming in her chair, she ripped the keys from the ignition and threw the door open, bashing the corner of the door into the wall and scratching a mark there that matched six or seven identical ones all within a foot of each other. She didn't care. She ripped the purse from the passenger side and slammed the door, rushing her shoes off and fumbling the key in the lock, her shaking hands desperate to go to work.
'Thank you,'
she whispered to no one as she fumbled with the door lock,
'mmm, thank you darling.'
Her voice was sultry and soft, almost sexual as she unlocked the door and went inside, slamming it behind her.
'Oh my goodness, thank you!'
she panted bizarrely as she tossed her bag mercilessly onto the couch and bent to tear her socks from her feet, running for her bedroom.
Katherine came back to, as the phone tilted from her hand and plopped onto her lap, causing her to jump in surprise and grab as if to catch it. Staring down at it, she sighed externally as she realized that the piss she had entered the toilet for should have ended minutes ago. 'Fucking phone,' she berated them both as she quickly wiped and raised her pants to go, pausing to notice the distinct scent wafting up from her lower half. Scrunching her nose, she resigned herself to applying another spray of deodorant back in her office - she had two meetings this afternoon including one with her male manager, and the last thing she needed was to waltz into one of those tiny one-on-one meeting rooms smelling like a whore house. She didn't know why, but these days she was starting to smell more and more like wet sex, and she'd noticed her libido sitting at higher and higher levels within her, which puzzled her without end. She had no boyfriend or girlfriend to excite her, barely watched porn or read smutty stories, and she was rarely an erotic person anyway. She seldom masturbated, save for generally around her time of the month, and even then, had to grapple with the effort of doing all that work for short recompense. Typically, she distracted herself from it with something else long enough that it subsided, and that was that. Nowadays, though...
Frowning, she stepped from her cubicle and washed her hands, looking at herself in the mirror. The auburn hair loose about her shoulders, hazel-green eyes, lightly freckled face and light-green blazer hiding a modest, generally uninterestingly flat body looking back at her seemed almost to be someone else - a youthful, intelligent businesswoman who had no time for Facebook or gay sex videos or whatever else her idiot brain decided it would lose itself in for minutes on end. That woman could well have been Janet the PA or Rachel the Senior Accountant - but her? Stupid, distractible, horny old Katherine the Client Communications Officer? Well, at least she wore a good mask for her co-workers.
Katherine's jacket fell from her shoulders to the floor as she entered her bedroom, her button-up shirt already half undone between her searching fingertips. She threw it asunder as she approached her nightstand and lifted the laptop sitting on it, pulling the charger from its side and tossing it to the bed. She paused to free the bra from her chest, and ten seconds later the clasps burst free. Shrugging it from her skin, Katherine's small yet perky tits revealed themselves to her room once again, a sight it had seen many, many times before. Her fingertips shot to her pants and she hastily unclasped the belt around her waist, pulling it aside and pressing the button in to free her from their grip. Though she shook with anticipation, she managed it, and a moment later the fly withdrew along its length, allowing her to thrust the offending item of clothing down and away from her body. The smell was instantaneous - she was overripe at this point, as she usually was by the time she got home. The heat and desire had dampened her panties, and the pink-red fabric was dark in the center where it met her sex. A moment later, they too were torn from her body, and the now naked Katherine stepped quickly onto her bed to join the laptop where it lay. She brought it closer and lifted the lid, barely seeing anything on the screen as she typed in her password, her eyes caught up by...
Katherine was pulled back to the real world by the soft but insistent toning of her meeting app ringtone, accompanied by her vibrating phone on the desk. She withdrew her glazed eyes from her computer's webcam as if in a daze, blinking. 'Shit,' she swore when she saw the 'incoming call' popups on both her computer and her phone.
Fucking cameras... It's always the fucking cameras...
She though to herself in frustration.
It always went like this. Waking in the morning, Katherine was like any other woman. She silenced her alarms, stepped into a piping shower that she always ended with an invigorating cold blast, did her hair and makeup and went to work. She had very little memory of the night before, but she never noticed it - to Katherine, every night was about the same. She ate, washed up, watched TV and checked her emails, then went to bed for a good sleep ahead of her next working day. She never knew about what she did online - until the next day. Throughout the day, she would slowly lose herself in cameras - webcams, camera-phones, security cameras, road cameras and every other type of computer lens - just as she had been programmed to do. She would slowly erode further and further, losing her mind a bit more with each glance, eventually fading out as she stared into them longer and longer, growing more and more aroused each time until she could think of nothing but the all-encompassing need to touch herself in front of them. Every day, she rushed home in a horny stupor, unable to think of anything but her laptop which sat waiting for her in her bedroom. And every day, Katherine would strip down and turn on that laptop, horny and out of her mind, until...
The meeting ringer tinkled once again from her speakers and her phone started to buzz. Squeezing her eyes shut, pleading the ghostly sensations and images in her brain to go away, she realised she had no way around this meeting - she had to report directly to her manager every Thursday, it was six minutes after 4 PM on a Thursday - and that part of it would involve her needing to look into her camera to address him.
Trying her hardest to ignore the way even moving in her chair adjusted the hot flesh between her legs, Katherine pulled herself up straight, quickly brought some files up on her screen, and prepared to tap the meeting join button, thinking of the apology about 'being in the toilet' she would have to use.
