I promise.I try to get the spreadsheet to stop blurring, come into focus.The laughter gets louder, putting the lie to my promise.I squeeze my eyes shu... tightly. Almost painfully so.Stop. For God’s sake. Please stop.“Heh, heh, heh...”It’s part of the never-ending litany of bizarre noises and strange odors emanating from his cubicle.Weird laughter, inappropriate jokes, bodily noises. And the Smells. God the Smells.Every. Damn. Day. Sardines in heavy oil. Sardines in Mustard. Once in a while. I couldn’t really smile with a mouthful of ball-gag. But I stood up, loosened the gag and let it hang around my neck. I stepped into the leg holes of the strap-on harness and moved it into position; the dildo was about eight inches long and bright red. I smiled and held that cock like I meant business. Shop assistant started wanking like there was no tomorrow; he’d just about given up trying to take pictures. Middle-aged man mumbled something I didn’t quite hear. “What was that?” I asked. He. More

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