The Creep

Text by Susan Strict.  Artwork by Rodzo.

"For goodness sake shut up," she said for the fourth time. "All you do is whinge and complain. I don’t know where your friends are and I don’t really care"

The telephone rang. She picked it up.

"Oh hello, Sandra," she said, "Yes, he’s fine. He does go on, though. I was just... bother. Hang on a moment."

She walked back towards him, ignoring his complaints that were becoming louder and louder. She sat herself down squarely on his face, and immediately the noise ceased.

"You still there, Sandra? Good. Yes, that was him, but I’ve managed to shut him up for the time being. How are the others doing?"

She wriggled slightly, not quite comfortable and needing to adjust her position.

"Great. Yes, it was a wonderful idea. How did they manage to do it? I mean, one man I can understand but if they’ve managed to get all six of them that’s got to be a first. They’ve certainly done a great job on this one. He can’t move a muscle. They could have taken his pants off. I suppose I’ll have to cut them off now, but at least it keeps him reasonably decent until I’m ready."

She laughed.

"That’s right," she said down the telephone, "I don’t like that nasty thing waving at me all the time. Remember the last one? You were here then, weren’t you? It kept jigging up and down as though it was trying to attract our attention. Ugh. Still, it did get our attention eventually, didn’t it? And you were so wicked to him! I can’t imagine how he kept it all hard and twitching like that after you did all those terrible things to him. He must have been really hurting down there, such a mess, and still it didn’t go down. What was it? I remember. It was the scrubbing brush that did it in the end, wasn’t it? How he screamed, until I sat on his face!"

She wriggled again, remembering it, and feeling a warm tingle between her legs at the thought of it.

"So, Sandra, do you want to come over and play with this one too when you' get bored with yours?" There was something in her voice that suggested she hoped not. It would be very nice to have this one to herself. Somehow when someone else was there, even someone with the same interests and the same objectives, she felt somewhat inhibited. There were so many things she would really like to try that did not seem quite proper if there were someone else watching. Alone with a man bound and helpless, she could try any of them without any fear of criticism. If they did not quite work out the way she intended, well, that would not matter. He was not going to tell anyone.

"Oh that’s a shame." Sandra had matters of her own to attend to, and was not coming. How excellent!

"How long do you think...?" Perhaps she could keep him all week, just like the last one.

"No, I suppose not. No, definitely not. No need at all to send the girls over. In a day or so I can quite easily move him myself. He won’t be in any state to resist me by then, I can promise you that!"

Her tinkling laugh echoed round the room

"What’s that? Yes, I’ll be careful. It’s not as if it’s the first time. How many is it now? Surely not that many? Don’t be so rude. I’m not... what you said. I’m not repeating the word. You’re so rude. Yes I might. I think I could in the position he’s in, but I’m not sure I want to. I told you, I don’t like that thing waving around, so I’m keeping it covered up for the moment. I wasn’t really complaining. Yes, I could cover it up afterwards. I just always feel it needs to be taken down a bit when it’s like that, not covered up."

She leaned over and looked down.

"I think it is. Either that or it’s awfully large anyway."

She laughed again. "You would," she said in mock-outrage. "You wouldn’t care whether he was like this one or whether you were just lying back and thinking of England as long as you got it! All right, all right. Yes I might. More likely I won’t, however big it is. It’s always such a disappointment even if it does feel nice at first."

He grunted with discomfort and his chest heaved as she swung one leg over him so that she now sat astride his face.

"What am I doing? Why? Did you hear that? I’m sitting on him, of course. Yes, on his face. Where else? It keeps him quieter. Isn’t it funny how they’re always so noisy at first, and then how quiet they go? Perhaps after a while they think keeping quiet will result in less pain, and by the time they realise it makes no difference they’re too weak to say a lot anyway!"

"Anyway," she continued, "I really must go. I have so much to do. I’ll speak to you later, and you can let me know how yours went too. Bye for now."

She put down the phone and looked at the man below her.

"I hope you weren’t listening to that," she said severely. "It’s very rude to listen to other people’s telephone conversations. I’ll have to teach you some manners...."