My first story submission. The beginning of a long English language saga, currently being penned. All feedback welcomed. And yes, if I can find a way to say things with lots of words, I do. Detail is never a bad thing. ;)
I rue the day I agreed to go to the last office Christmas party. I'm not a very sociable person by nature. I don't particularly enjoy being around people. I'm happy with my 'boring life' with my husband. As far as I thought, he was happy with it too.
Tom and I have been married for ten years now. We don't have children; it wasn't something we ever wanted to do together. We enjoy our life unencumbered; free to pursue our own interests without worrying about dependants.
In our eleven years together, we've had plenty of excitement. Tom's army career was a multitude of adventures for us both. Now he's back on civilian street, things have calmed down for us.
Tom's army career had prevented me from working steadily, as we'd always needed to be ready for redeployments and I couldn't commit to indefinite periods of time in one place to work.
Now Tom's out of the army, I am working. I've been an admin assistant at a HR company for two years now, while Tom's built up a personal training business. Tom's an insanely active person. He enjoys bodybuilding and has the physique one would expect of such a man. I've always been a more sedentary creature by nature and am happy with a plate of good food and something entertaining to watch on television. Despite this, Tom and I work well together.
Having gotten together young, Tom and I have also experienced the ups and downs of passion in our marriage; and we're now in a permanent 'down' phase. Neither of us have the energy anymore to pursue the games and frivolities that we used to enjoy. Bondage and submission were our mutual interests when we got together.
Tom loved to dominate me. I loved to submit to him.
Sadly, as time has passed, our long, drawn-out sex sessions have been whittled down to fifteen-minute affairs, less about copious amounts of pleasure; more a matter of 'getting the job done'. Work and the business of life are to blame.
I know Tom misses the excitement we used to have, but he no longer complains about it, and I think he's accepted that we're not 'young' anymore.
The office Christmas party I previously mentioned was an awful event. The year before, I'd managed to escape having to attend it, but this Christmas just gone, it'd been made to feel mandatory to attend.
I'd managed to convince Tom to go with me and had appreciated his presence.
The party had been full of people that I have to spend my workdays with, none of whom I particularly enjoy spending time with. My boss, Linda had been there too, of course.
I don't like Linda. I can't find any redeeming qualities about her. She's a slim, blonde woman, who is far more concerned about how she looks than I believe is healthy. I've always cared more about what is in my head than how it looks to others. We're stark opposites.
Linda has somehow found her way into HR management, and I reserve judgement that this isn't because of her talent and instead because of her ability to schmooze and manipulate people.
She's very attractive, I'll admit to that. In a totally superficial meaning of the word. I'm sure if I were to ask any woman if they'd like to look like Linda, they'd say yes.
She has dark brown eyes, flawless skin, and a magazine cover physique. I couldn't dislike someone sheerly based on the way they look, but I find her vanity to be a deep character flaw.
Linda seems to find it a compliment when eyes are drawn to her huge round breasts, which she swears are natural. They're a far cry from my own meagre chest.
I don't find Linda to be a nice person either. She's never paid much attention to me at work, luckily, but I've been told that her vengeances against people have been harsh and cruel. The people she surrounds herself with appear to be false, and only friends with her for personal career gain. I could be wrong about this, but I doubt it.
I've always tried to minimise contact with her as much as possible; feeling I have nothing to gain from befriending her.
After we'd arrived at the aforementioned Christmas party, Tom and I had gone straight to the bar and indulged in a free drink each.
We'd found a quiet corner to stand and talk in and had been having a perfectly fine time, until a group of my colleagues; women who never normally made conversation with me had suddenly felt the need to initiate social contact with me, and pulled me away from Tom, towards the dancefloor.
They'd all been half drunk and had insisted on me dancing with them, and when I'd managed to look back towards Tom; wanting him to rescue me, I'd seen him embroiled in conversation with my boss, Linda.
I'd made several attempts to get away from my colleagues, but they'd blatantly refused to let me return to my husband, standing in the way and almost physically holding me from escaping.
When I'd finally managed to slip from them and walked back over to Tom, Linda was still conversing with him.
I could see from her demeanour, the way she kept playing with her hair and pushing her bust out that she was flirting with him. Tom had smiled when I'd returned whereas Linda had looked sideways at me, as if I was an unwanted presence.
I'd made our excuses and we'd left the party soon after, not something that Tom appeared to mind.
I'd grumbled to him about Linda's motives during the drive home, and he'd laughed, dismissing it as nothing. Tom had been well used to my jealousy through our marriage. We'd said no more about the night since then.
I'd heard at work that Linda had spoken quite extensively about my husband as the party had gone on.
She'd been overheard drunkenly claiming that he 'deserved better than me', and that a man like him was 'wasted' on me. I'd risen above her petty comments.
The issue had always been a point of contention between Tom and me. I've always felt that I'm the one 'punching above my weight' in appearance standards. Tom has always laughed this sentiment off and silenced me by saying he loves me, so why should it matter. In our younger years, he'd always received an abundance of female attention, which I'd always been conscious of. He'd proven himself loyal to me, but I'd be lying if I said I missed the days of him getting unwanted attention.
In the months since the Christmas party, Linda has made a few 'less than subtle' comments about my husband, but I'm not a confrontational person by nature and I've refrained from reacting.
I've remained quietly confident in the knowledge that their meeting was a one-time thing and won't be repeated.
My current predicament is not where I thought I'd be on a Friday night.
I'm more annoyed because Tom and I have arranged to go out for a few drinks together tonight, to break the monotony of our TV and homecooked meal habit.
Instead, I'm lying naked on Linda's desk, tied down and unable to free myself.
Linda is circling the desk, smirking widely.
I got into this position because of my own stupidity. I'd brought clothes with me to change into, with the intention of meeting Tom in town, straight from work. When five o'clock had arrived and my colleagues had all started leaving, I'd gone to the staff toilets to change.
I'd been quite liberal in changing, feeling that I wouldn't be disturbed.
I had undressed down to my bra and knickers and left my clothes on the sink, both my work clothes and my 'date night' clothes, while I quickly used the toilet.
When I'd come out of the cubicle, I'd been horrified to find that my clothes had disappeared from the sink.
I'd stood for a few seconds in my underwear, wondering if I'd imagined the entire thing, and searching the other cubicles desperately. When it became clear that my clothes weren't in the room, I'd opened the toilet door and looked around the office floor desperately.
I couldn't see anybody around, and so, covering myself as much as possible, I'd snuck out and gone over to my workspace to get my coat, which I knew to be over the back of my chair.
When I'd reached my chair, my coat had been removed and my handbag was also missing.
I'd looked around frantically, checking for anyone watching, almost expecting to find a gaggle of giggling bullies holding my clothes, like the ones I'd endured in school as a teenager.
Nobody was around.
I'd looked desperately over at Linda's office, where the light had been on.
I'd stood for a few seconds, hiding my lack of clothes behind my chair, wondering if she'd seen anyone mistakenly carrying them.
