90. Porn Free.


“Lucifer, are you busy?”
It was Soulless Boss.
He knew I wasn’t busy.
I’d done fuck all for three days.
That’s just how it goes sometimes – there are busy days and slow days, lively weeks and dead weeks.
It was a dead week.
I glanced around at the paperback books, magazines, tea cups and crisp packets that littered my grubby desk.
“I’ve got quite a bit on at the moment, Soulless Boss. Maybe Thursday…”
“Don’t get fucking smart. I want you to take this work ticket to the account executives, photocopy this stock order and fetch me three blue biros from the stores.”
“That’s a lot to remember, Soulless Boss. I’d better write it down. Have you got a pen?”
His piggy eyes narrowed as he tried to weigh up whether I was taking the piss.
Of course I was taking the piss.
“Just… go, Lucifer.”
“Righto.”

The account executives inhabit an ivory tower at the far end of the factory.
You need a pass key to enter their offices.
It keeps out the unwashed.
It keeps out the shambling neanderthals who run machines and cut paper, sweep floors and grease cogs.
It keeps out the plebs with grubby desks littered with paperback books, magazines, tea cups and crisp packets.
It keeps the suits safe and clean.
I found my pass key and checked to see if it still worked.
It did.
I’ll be fucked if I’m going to knock and wait for permission from a suit.
I’d found the key in a door in an abandoned corridor about six months ago.
It became my key.
So I entered the offices.
The first thing that hit me was the smell.
Fresh coffee, new carpet, a whiff of perfume, a hint of pine forest.
It got me every time.
None of the usual smells you get in the factory.
Industrial solvent, microwaved leftovers, unwashed clothes, farts.
When the door clicked shut behind me I didn’t want to open it again.
Row after row of desks stretched out along that long room.
Tapping keys, chatter into telephones, the hum of a photocopier.
The account executives really looked to be hustling.
As I walked silently by I saw the same green screen on every monitor:
two of diamonds, jack of clubs, eight of hearts, king of spades.
I heard the phone calls:
“Yes, I know you said the fridge was going to be delivered Tuesday, but I can’t make it…”
“I really miss Timmy, mum. Can you put him on the phone? Please? Please? Mum, put the dog on the phone now! Timmy? It’s mummy! I wuv you sooo much!”
“Hello? Yeah, it’s Dave. Can you put fifty quid each way on Lavender Bandit at the 3.15 at Chepstow? Yeah, I’ll hold…”
“…so I woke up, and he was in bed next to me… Cheryl, he was…wanking! I know! No, I just finished him off and called a taxi for him. Didn’t get his name.”
They looked busy.
Looks can be deceiving.
I slapped the job ticket down on a desk.
“Hi Dave. Soulless Boss sent this down for you.”
Dave quickly switched off his monitor. He had been looking at tennis players showing their knickers.
“Lucifer! How did you get in here.”
“The door, Dave. I came in through the door.”
“Yes yes, but you need a pass key!”
“Door was open.”
“Oh. I’d better ring maintenance. Can’t have just anyone wandering in.”
“No. We can’t have that.”
I went to the photocopier.
Dave went back to drooling over teenagers with tennis rackets.
As the machine whirred and buzzed and flashed I heard a laugh that set my teeth on edge.
“Haheeheeheeheeha!”
It had a deranged ring to it, like a rapist on helium.
I glanced across the room.
It was Burrows.
I shuddered.
Burrows is five feet tall, with strange thinning hair greased to his domed head. He’s mid twenties but get’s I.D’d when he’s buying a pint of fucking milk.
He was talking to a secretary, whispering rapidly into her ear as his eyes darted around the office, taking it all in.
The secretary blushed and tittered.
Burrows took the opportunity to run a finger over her bare arm.
She didn’t notice.
He whispered again, she laughed, but walked away with a worried expression.
He watched her go, his bulging eyes scurrying all over her retreating body.
Then he licked his finger.
I looked away.
My flesh crawled.
I jabbed the buttons on the photocopier and it burped out more paper.
The novelty of the office had worn off pretty quick.
I preferred the more honest dirt of my own desk.
Whirr buzz flash.
Whirr buzz flash.
Whirr buzz…
“Hello Lucifer.”
A finger touched my bare arm.
“Jesusfuckingchrist!”
Burrows withdrew his hand quickly.
“Ooh! You’re jumpy! You must have a guilty conscience!”
Only guilty of wanting to wring your creepy, rapey neck, you little…
“No, Burrows. You just… surprised me.”
“A pleasant surprise, I hope! Haheeheeheeheeha!”
I didn’t say anything.
He leant closer to me.
“I’ve got some new stuff, Lucifer. Stuff you might… like!”
He grinned at me.
His teeth were like a child’s, tiny and wide spaced.
He squashed his tongue against the tiny teeth and the pink flesh bulged between the gaps.
I could have puked.
“I’m not interested, Burrows.”
Burrows had a sideline in pornography.
He spent his evenings downloading every kind of hardcore filth you can imagine (and a lot you’ve can never imagine).
He burned DVDs and printed out lists for pervs to peruse.
I’m no saint, but I have certain standards.
I didn’t want to have anything to do with Burrows.
“Do you like anal, Lucifer?”
“Fucking Hell. Shut up, will you? I’ve got work to do.”
Burrows came closer, and started talking fast, really fast,in the same whisper he’d used on the secretary.
“I’ve got some great stuff where a bloke with a massive dick rams it down this young girl’s throat and she gags and she pukes and she starts to cry and he doesn’t stop and he grabs her throat and her make up runs and he fucks her skull and she pukes again but it’s like snot and he slaps her and she screams and…”
“Shut up, just shut up you horrible runt.”
A couple of account executives looked up from their screens, blinking owlishly.
I grabbed my photocopies and made for the stock room.
Three biros.
I slammed the door, fumbled for the light and let out a ragged sigh.
Burrows really creeped me out.
He was always talking about which blokes ordered what porn.
Ramjet likes gang bangs.
Dogsbody likes dwarves.
Boon likes then barely legal.
The Major was hooked on violent bumming.
Borstal likes shitting films.
In my opinion there are some things I really don’t want to know.
Men’s wanking preferences are high on that list.
“Biro’s, biro’s, where are the fucking biro’s…”
I just wanted to get the pens and get out.
“Looking for the biro’s Lucifer?”
“Jesusfuckingchrist!”
Burrows was next to me, wagging a pen.
I hadn’t heard the door open.
I reckon the slimy gimp had slithered underneath it.
“Yes, Burrows. I’m looking for the biro’s.”
He pointed to an unmarked box.
“Biro’s are in here, Lucifer.”
I grabbed a handful and made for the door.
Burrows didn’t move.
“Lucifer, I wanted to apologise about earlier. I didn’t mean to be offensive…”
He was reaching out to me with that finger, making a bee-line for a bare patch of skin.
“Burrows, no offence, but if you touch me I’ll snap your fucking finger off.”
He withdrew his hand, and showed those horrible little teeth.
“Haheeheeheeheeha! You are funny, Lucifer! Look, I’ve got something for you. A present.”
He slipped a disk into my hands.
A DVD.
It didn’t have anything written on it.
“Not interested, Burrows.”
I tried to give him it back, but he put his hands behind his back.
“It’s nothing nasty, Lucifer! Trust me! Haheeheeheeheeha!”
He slipped out of the stock room and scampered away.
By the time I’d grabbed the biro’s and left the stock room Burrows was already whispering to Dave.
I was about to throw the disk he’d given me into the bin, but then I stopped.
It looked innocuous enough, but what was on it?
What if I threw it in the bin, and somebody saw me, and picked it up, and loaded it into their computer for a look…
I thrust the disk into my pocket.
From across the room I heard that laugh:
“Haheeheeheeheeha!”
I hurried away.

I had the house to myself.
Early afternoon, my shift over, a few hours before the wife finished work.
The devil makes work for idle hands.
I’d forgotten about the disk, but when I rummaged in my work bag for my phone, I felt the cool shiny plastic of the CD.
What was on it?
I pushed the thought from my mind and went to throw the disk in the bin.
What was on it?
I decided to snap it into pieces and shove the bits to the bottom of the bin.
What was on it?
The disk bent…
I pressed the button on the DVD player, the drawer slid open and I popped the disk in.
I closed the curtains, just in case.
Pressed ‘Play’.
The screen was a bit blurry at first, then the porn started.
Normal porn.
Tits cocks fannies.
Bit dull, fairly standard filth.
Not bad actually.
I was just starting to get into it, when the screen suddenly changed.
There was a load of ugly women scampering around a garden.
They were giggling and talking Spanish.
The ugly women started kissing.
I wasn’t so keen.
The ugly women suddenly took their knickers off to reveal massive cocks, which they proceeded to suck vigorously.
Oh dear.
I fumbled for the remote control.
I managed to switch it off just as the big cocked ugly women began to fondle a small pony in a very inappropriate way that made the pony look alarmed…
Burrows.
I was going to kill him.

Next day I’d half forgotten about the seedy film.
It was fifty pieces of shiny plastic at the bottom of the bin.
I was working, minding my own business, when Dogsbody scuttled over.
“Hi Lucifer.”
“Hello Dogsbody. What are you doing in here?”
“I hear you like the… unusual stuff too.”
“What?”
“You know, the more, exotic material.”
“Dogsbody, I haven’t got a fucking clue what you are talking about.”
He sighed.
“Well, to put it bluntly, I hear you’re a fan of big cocked ladyboys. What’s the new film like? The one with the little horse. Is it any good?”
I wanted to puke.
“Who the fuck has been saying I like big cocked ladyboy films??”
“Burrows. He’s been telling everybody that you’ve put a special order in.”
Burrows.
Burrows was a dead man.
I ran up the corridor as fast as I could.
Got to the door to the offices.
Fumbled for my pass key.
Put it in the lock.
Nothing.
The key didn’t work.
Fuck.
I calmed down, took a deep breath, and knocked.
After an age, the door opened a crack.
It was Dave.
“Hello Dave. Can I come in?”
Dave looked disgusted.
“If you’re looking for Burrows, Lucifer, he’s not here. He told me to tell you he’s not willing to supply that filth to you again.”
“What?? The little fucker thrust that shit on me, Dave! Anyway, don’t preach to me! I saw you perving at tennis players knickers on the net yesterday!”
“There’s a world of difference between Anna Kournikova and big cocked ladyboys, Lucifer. A world of difference. Don’t even go there.”
He closed the door.
Muffled, almost too quiet to hear, from deep within the pine scented sanctuary of the office, I heard:
“Haheeheeheeheeha!”
I shuffled back to the studio.

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2 Responses to 90. Porn Free.

  1. Soulless Boss says:

    Lucy loves well hung lady boys

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