SARAH S CUCKOLD PART 1
- 4 years ago
- 55
- 0
Whitehall, London. January 5th, the following year.
The lights went out suddenly, unexpectedly. All of them. He looked up, irritation on his face, though there was no one there to see it, and it was too dark for the irritation to be seen anyway. There was a loud mechanical thump, then a softer one, and moments later the lights came back on. The backup generators had switched in. He stalked to the window and twitched the curtain open. There was no sign of any lights outside. He could see out across the park, but where there would normally have been street lights and lights in office buildings, even at, he glanced quickly at his watch, six thirty-eight in the morning, now he could see just the lights of a single bus in the distance.
Curfew had been over for nearly three quarters of an hour, he thought, why wasn’t there more traffic?
He walked back to his desk to continue with his work. Always an early starter, he had been at his desk since six fifteen. As he sat down, there was a tap on the office door.
“Come,” he called sharply.
“I’m sorry Prime Minister,” the young man who entered said. “There’s been a power cut that’s affected all of Whitehall and a fair way beyond.”
“Yes I can see that,” Thorn answered curtly.
The young man gulped nervously. “Y Yes sir. It’s just that we are a bit short on juice for the generator, so I’m turning off as many lights as possible.”
“Very well then. Get on with it.”
“Yes sir.” The young man, a janitor in all but name, entered the small office and turned off three of the six lights. The one nearest the prime minister’s desk, and the desk lamp itself he left on, plus a smaller one by the door.
“That’s all sir, if you could turn those three off when you leave, sir.”
Thorn nodded his dismissal, but then had another thought. “Why are we short?”
“Er, the price sir. And the general shortage.”
“Shortage? What shortage? There’s no petrol shortage.”
“Er, it’s diesel sir, and since that fire there’s been a massive shortage. We haven’t been able to get more than a few litres now and again for a couple of weeks.”
“Not even for number ten?” Thorn asked, his temper rising.
“No sir. When they do find out, they almost always manage to find us a couple of extra litres, but that’s all. No one is hiding it from us.”
“What time did the trip go?” asked Thorn sharply as the janitor was about to leave the room again.
“Er, six thirty-six and forty-seven,” he was told. The janitor had guessed he was likely to be asked, so had deliberately checked before coming up.
“Hmm.” Thorn waved the janitor away. That was a very odd number. Unlikely it was deliberate. After that ridiculous woman had made those treasonous statements on Christmas day, he was half expecting trouble. So far, to the best of his knowledge, nothing had happened. He relaxed a little and turned back to his work: this wasn’t it.
Catterick Garrison in north Yorkshire, once the largest British Army base in the world, and now the home of the Security Patrol, lost its power nearly three hours after Downing Street. It too had local backup power generators, but also like Downing Street and Whitehall in general, it had very limited fuel available. A couple of hours later, Hendon in North London also lost its power: the old Hendon Police College had been taken over by the Safety Patrol both as a training site, and also as the operational headquarters of the Safety Patrol. It had no working backup generators, so when the power went down there, the lights stayed out. Across the country, at various times of the day, another eight areas also lost power. Some had backup generators but only a small amount of fuel, others had none, but within all those areas were the regional headquarters of the Patrol. Most local Patrol stations were not affected, only the few that were supplied by the same local electricity distribution sub-stations as their regional HQ’s.
When Graham Thorn’s office at number 10 had gone down, the government’s main communications hub, underneath the old Cabinet Office building on Downing Street, had gone down at the same time. When the generators had kicked in, they had not had enough power for all the servers, so only the most important servers were restarted. When, twenty-five minutes later, mains power came back, off-duty staff were called in to help sort out the mess.
An hour later, the power to Whitehall again failed, this time only for five minutes, but in the rush of all the off shift staff arriving, no one noticed an extra person there, anyone who saw her assumed she was from one of the other shifts who had come in to help out.
Fifty-three-year-old Sarah Leeves was terrified, more terrified than she’d ever been in her life. She was a computer programmer. A good one. Had been for thirty-two years, and this was totally outside her experience. Until now, her excitement had been her weekly walks on Saddleworth moor in East Lancashire with her three labrador dogs.
Getting in had been hard enough, though the lack of electricity had actually helped as the security guards were unable to spot that her ID card was fake. The scanner would have flagged it immediately, but it was not working so they just nodded her through, writing her name and ID number on a pad, along with everyone elses. Even getting into the main systems support office had been fraught with worry. She had been told there was no particular security into here, but that might have changed. It hadn’t. She worried and wondered, in the back of her mind, who had got the information she needed. Surely, if they could do that, then they could do what needed to be done. Couldn’t they?
It hadn’t, and now she was sat at what she knew was normally a hot-desk, and as soon as the power had come back on, and the computer systems available, she began trying to log in. She knew which application to start, and what to enter, but then the system login screen came up, looking nothing like she expected. But it did look vaguely familiar. She racked her brains for a few moments before amazement dawned.
“Bum,” she muttered. “That’s not what...” She quickly looked through the various note pads and other bits and bobs on the desk, then opened a desk drawer and scrabbled through the stuff there. She had a user name, SECURE2, and password. Now, unexpectedly, she needed a session name and service name. Session names, if she was remembering correctly, were normally free format, but there could be a standard format expected to them, and if she did it wrong and someone noticed, it would be easy enough to trace it back to this terminal, and that would be the end of her. She could guess a service name, but again if that wasn’t used here, or they had renamed it, she could have problems.
Across the room, Miguel Escarra, an office cleaner working a bit earlier than normal, had just noticed Sarah’s arrival. He had an excellent memory for faces and knew almost everyone who came into this office by sight. Her face however, he didn’t recognise and this caught his attention. He was expecting someone, but this middle-aged, grey haired, mousy, nervous looking woman wasn’t it. Was this the person he was supposed to wait for, he wondered nervously. She was sitting where the person was supposed to sit, so maybe it was. His only job was to identify and keep an eye on whoever did come in, and try and intercept anyone who was going to interrupt them in any way. He had no idea how he was supposed to do this though.
He had been working in this building for nearly a month, coming into this particular office twice a day every day on his rounds. He had managed to steal a number of passwords and other security information, mostly by watching the office staff carefully but discreetly, and watching either what they typed, or more usually by noting down where they read passwords from. It had been surprising just how many of them wrote obvious passwords down. People were required to change passwords weekly, and so many people just scribbled the new passwords onto pieces of paper it was scary. And a real bonus for him. A few staff used electronic documents or personal electronic devices to store their passwords, but Miguel had collected a lot of user names and passwords, including some system passwords, from off pieces of paper.
He knew enough about computers from his own time at school to know that many of the office computers, although old and using no longer supported operating systems, were in use daily for some very sensitive systems. What he didn’t know was that the actual systems, the databases themselves, were on other machines elsewhere, but by careful listening to people talking as he cleaned he had gleaned a lot of incredibly useful information. He normally had on what appeared to be an MP3 player playing through ear buds, but in fact it was a sensitive, directional, speakerphone recording a lot of what it heard. He passed the recorder on to his Maquis contact at the end of each day, getting a clean one back in return for use the following day. Exactly where or how they then cleaned it up, and how much of what they got was actually useful, he didn’t know. But it must have been of at least some use otherwise he wouldn’t have been here today, now, watching and waiting for someone. He took a deep, nervous breath, and wandered slowly in her direction, emptying waste bins as he went.
“Okay,” Sarah muttered, “risk it for a biscuit.” She got in. All four elements worked. User name, job name, service and password. “All right my love, what’s running?” She murmured. She thought for a moment, then slowly typed DOCF(J, M) and pressed return. “Yes!” She murmured, relief flooding through her. The screen filled and then paused. She pressed return and the list continued. These were all the running MAC jobs, jobs where a person was sat in front of a developer or support terminal, rather than an end user session. Looking down the list, she eventually saw her own session. It didn’t stand out from the others, and all the job names she saw seemed to have no particular form. She breathed a sigh of relief. A DOCF(WM) to check the work mix told her she’d guessed the right service name: EMAC was the default supplied service name, though many sites chose to amend the parameters for all sorts of reasons, and often renamed it when they did.
Miguel moved slowly past where Sarah was sitting. Glancing at her screen he saw nothing that made any sense to him, but then he didn’t really expect it to. He moved just around a corner, where he could see her if he looked, and began to take apart a coffee machine for cleaning and refilling. This was something he did twice a day anyway, even though the machine only actually needed cleaning every other day, and refilling only once a day. He had been doing this ever since he had started so that no one who saw him do it would become suspicious. What actually happened was that the drinks produced were actually nicer than before, and more than one person had thanked and complimented him on his work.
Sarah paused for a moment. Where to start, she wondered. “Okay. What services are running?” DOCF(J, TPCONTROL) she typed. Twenty-four lines came up this time, rather more than she had expected, but one of them caused her to smile in relief. She was in the right place. Good.
DUD(SV) was her next command. Four lines scrolled up, showing all the services associated with the current user. She looked at the name of one, SEC2, then typed DSVD(SEC2) to give her details of that specific service. The second line read ‘LONG ANNOTATION’ followed by a short gap and ‘IDMS DATABASE SERVICE’.
Good, now, was it running? Hmm. Old and long disused memories began to flood back. She wasn’t sure whether this was correct, but typed DSVD(SEC2,, F) the screen scrolled rapidly up, then paused. She quickly spotted what she was looking for. An entry STARTED with todays date and a time of 07:49:02, this was followed by a line containing just the word STOPPED with no date and then another line with STATUS STARTED. She smiled. The service had only just restarted after the latest power failure. It was unlikely people would start logging in again quite yet. She hoped.
The command hadn’t given her all she wanted though and she frowned in concentration. What the hell was the command? Tentatively she typed IDMSXDSVD(SEC2) and after a momentary pause, was rewarded with screens full of information about the database service. Including where all the data files were.
This was what she needed. She grinned. Yes! She kept pressing return every time the screen filled, and eventually found the next thing she was looking for. She jotted down the names she’d found, then carried on.
Next she needed to create three libraries. These she did with four rapidly typed commands:
INTRLB(SOURCELIBRARY)
INTRLB(OMFLIBRARY, *STDOMF)
INTRLB(SERVICELIBRARY, *STDOMF)
CLBD(SERVICELIBRARY, SER=Y)
This last came back with a permissions error:
****ERROR 20029 A PRIVILEGED OPERATION HAS BEEN ATTEMPTED
“Bum,” she muttered again, though she wasn’t totally surprised by the error.
She did a DUD(F, STD) and went down the list it displayed, using ENTER XF to delete a lot of files that looked as if they might be important. Files called simply XXX or similar, of which there were a lot, she left alone. That was just staff being sloppy. She smiled slightly when she saw just how long it was since some of these files had even been looked at. One of them, almost nine gigabytes in size, hadn’t been accessed, not even to look at, in over sixteen years. “What a waste,” she muttered.
XF(*ICL9NJOURNAL);LGT was her next command.
She quickly logged back in again, using a slightly different session name, and carried on her destructive work.
She now needed to be quick. She quickly typed FNTPMS(SECURE2) the screen froze for a moment, then came back AWAITING RESOURCES followed by AWAITING WRITE ACCESS TO VOLUME IN CSRB10CT and then froze again. “Oh hell,” Sarah muttered. She just prayed that whatever CSRB10CT was, it would become available automatically. “That’s securing something. What and where?” She jotted down the name.
A moment later the screen displayed RESOURCES AQUIRED, then SLOTFILE DELETED. Sarah sighed softly with relief. A few more messages appeared, then SEC2 CLOSED appeared, followed by SEC2RO CLOSED and then SEC2QM CLOSED. “Youch,” she muttered. She hadn’t noticed SEC2QM in the list of services. “Bugger.” That could be a problem. She quickly typed DUD(SV) again. “Bum,” she muttered. It wasn’t there. “Bum, bum, double bum.”
DCTD(CSRB10CT) told her that this was a tape category. A pool of tapes to be used by any process that required a tape. “Tapes?” She muttered. “Still?” DCTD(CSRB10CT, EVERYTHING) gave her a long list of files, many owned by other users. As she read down, she grinned. More by accident than design, she’d found a motherload of archived data.
DTMPL(DCTD) told her there was an action parameter to the template of the DCTD command.
One command this operating system didn’t have, was an equivalent of ‘del .‘ or ‘rm -r *’ but there were ways to create one.
It took her just two minutes, and only two false starts, to create a temporary module, to do a LOT of damage:
COMPILESCL(,, NO, NE)
PROC KILLTAPE IS (INT LNAME, RESPONSE FLAG)
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I am a member of a rather exclusive ‘Gentleman’s Club’ in Alicante.I was introduced to the club and recommended for membership by a close friend. There are certain criteria for membership. The first is obviously that you have to be male, secondly you must be a gentleman, harder to define I know, but it revolves around how you treat women, other people and the rest of the world in general. Your attitude and outlook is also important. Next you must be married, your wife must know of your...
Imagine coming out of quarantine after 3 months and your 1st job is to attempt to fit BrickZilla’s dick into an orifice or two ??? That’s EXACTLY what happened to Florida coed Riley Jean! The Sailor Moon fan gets ? lubed up by Brickzilla before damn near breaking her jaw by trying to fit his ?? thick 13 inch dick in her mouth! Riley then gives him a stocking-clad footjob before Brick literally fucks her cross-eyed ? He finishes by dumping his load in her mouth and on her chin ??...
xmoviesforyouTess stopped walking and blew out a loud breath. She shoved tangles of flame-red hair from her brow and stared up at the sky. The clouds had shifted and reformed, their colour deepening to an ominous grey. It was only a matter of time before they broke. She slanted a glance at her wristwatch, four-thirty already. Her stomach churned at the thought of the storm threat hanging over her and the good couple of hours hiking she still had left. The weather forecast had been for overnight rain. She’d...
Vienna, 1899 We turned the corner and arrived in the notorious Spittelberg Alley. I knew the place by reputation, but the thought of visiting it had never crossed my mind before that evening. My friend, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease. And he was not the only one, I noticed as I spotted a number of well-dressed men either going into or coming out of the houses lining the street. This was one of the few places in Vienna where class distinctions ceased to exist. No curtains hung in...
After Primary, I went to a high school specified for girls only and after completing my studies there; my father took the initiative in deciding that I should now go to College and complete my graduation. My father searched a girl’s only College which was far away from our house but as I was to wear burqa all the way and take my younger brother along to the College as my guardian, it was found to be workable. At the College I met my seatmate, Puja, a Hindu girl, who lived close to my place....
NovelsMy thirty-ninth birthday was approaching, I was taking stock of my sexual situation and I wasn’t impressed. A cv including two ex-husbands and several former lovers was nothing to boast about. Nor was my current solitary state. No doubt I was responsible for some of the difficulties but that didn’t make me feel any better when I looked back. Although not all the problems and shortcomings were sexual, and anyway sex isn’t the be-all and end-all of my life but it is certainly one of the most...
Dosto, mera naam aarush hai. Ye meri pehli desi hot sex story hai. Ye ek real story hai. Jisko yakin karna hai to karna, else I don’t give a fuck. Mai mumbai ke kalyan area me rehta hu. Meri girlfriend anushka bhi mere ghar ke paas hi rehti hai. Hum dono ek dusre ko bht like karte the. Lekin kabhi sex nai kiya coz wo thodi conservative type ki thi . Mai bhi usase pyaar karta tha, so force nai kiya usko kabhi. Lekin icha bht hoti thi meri uske sath sex karneki. Ek baar uske birthday pe humne...
The Tyger by Mistress X :Tyger Tyger burning bright in the forests of the night; what immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry?: Was on the chalkboard of Rob's literature class and he copied it down as Professor Cutter continued to scrawl the poem over the greenish grey surface. :In what distant deeps or skies burnt the fire of thine eyes?: It was all a little odd. Rob had heard that Professor Cutter had minored in literature which was why he was subbing for...
I was a silent follower of Indian sex stories dot net site since a long time. I stay near BHEL, Hyderabad, if any women (aged between 35 to 50 year preferable) interested in doing friendship with me please mail me at (palforchatting at gmail dot com) I’m 42 years of age married with one kid, but never been in any relationship until this incident happened. And this is the first and last relationship till now. She is also 42 years of age married with one kid. Let her call as KS For yoga class,...
Waiting at bus stop-Atmosphere-A colleague comes-Rush-Standing behind colleague-push from the back- touch of genitals- feeling-deliberate next attempt-no bad response-pretension to talking-continuation of touch-push gets harder-and harder till bus reaches destination. It was July. The sun hid behind the dark clouds somewhere and the atmosphere looked dull. Cool breeze was blowing that signal the upcoming showers. Even though it had not rained yet, I could still smell the Petri core. I decided...
You are Commander Shepard, the best humanity has to offer. Where should you begin?
Introduction: Joseph keeps thinking about his best friend Rose, and one night she doesnt call him…. Be nice its my first story and theres alot of teasing and kissing so if your not into it look elsewhere. This is written by a women in the point of view of a man, somting a little diffrent, please enjoy!!!! ****************************************************************************************************************** Shes my best friend Rose I keep thinking about her over the past few...
Copyright© 2003 For four years almost every time I travelled the side street to gain entry to the main road there is a plump woman who waves to me. Her house is on the corner and she is either sitting on her porch, feeding the birds, hand watering her garden, from early in the morning to midafternoon. Always the same smile and wave, if she was elderly I could accept this as being normal, but this woman is in her late thirties early forties and not the type of activity one expects at her...
My apartment is a loft above a row of shops. There is a trendy (overpriced) hair salon right under me. Down about three shops is a little bar. Since I don’t know much else about the town I figure I can grab a drink there just to get out of the house for a bit. I walk into the bar and it is empty but for me and the bartender. The very hot bartender I might add. I can’t believe my luck! I check his hand for a ring and don’t see one so I sit at the bar with my rising hopes. I am surprised...
Hello friends, ye meri pehli story hai or bilkul sach. Main sex stories ka regular reader hoon or mujhe incest bahut pasand hai, although ab tak bas maami ko choda hai. Meri story padh ke kaisa laga mujhe jarur batiyega, agar koi ladki sex chahti hai ya hot baten ya kch bhi chahti hai to contact me at ”. To jaada bore na karte hue sidhe story pe aata hoon. Mera naam Rohan hai or main Bangalore ka rehne wala hoon or meri maami ka naam sweta hai jo ranchi me rehti hai. Ye aaj se 2 saal ehle ki...
I was riding the Greyhound Bus to visit a friend of mine. It was a long eighteen hour ride and I was bored out of my skull. My iPod was dead and I hated to read on a bus. This bus was filled with old people shuttling between stops on the back roads of Wisconsin and points south. We stopped at small towns and at one stop a man about my age boarded the bus. He moved his lanky frame to the rear of the bus, to the vacant seat next to me. It was the last two seats in the bus and they had the most...
I suppose that just about everyone that lives near a creek or a lake takes a skinny dip at some point with a friend. Its quite a normal and natural thing to do actualy. But at least in Robert's case, he never experienced a skinny dip. With no near by creek, or lake, a skinny dip, at least for him, seemed, a bit out of reach. But life can be surprising at times and can take a strange turn, when you least expect. The girl he worked with, Julie, had invited him to go to the beach with her and...
I had always considered myself 100% straight. All through high school and college I never battered an eyelid if a sexy girl walked past as I had no interest in them only men. But it was only until I joined a salsa class every week on a Monday did I begin to doubt my sexuality.I entered the dance studio and there were were a group of men and women there already and a young and sexy latina salsa teacher stood in a black leotard and cropped leggings. Her hair was tied back in a tight bun. She was...
Lesbian15 December, 1686 Morning Ihon stood on deck inspecting the repair work to the Maidens Revenge. For nearly four weeks the sound of the hammer and the saw had mingled with the song of the birds to get the Schooner into a state of repair that met with his satisfaction. It would have taken him much longer other than the fact that he hired five additional carpenters and three craftsmen to help him with the work. As part of the repairs he had completely restored the Captain's, Isabel and...
Introduction: My first Time. My First Time Opening the page I had never seen anything like this before, I knew this was a naughty magazine but I didnt know what to expect as I hadnt seen one before>, There in front of me a double spread page of a woman naked opening her legs, I could see her pussy flaps all the hair and her boobs, first I laughed then I looked in amazement. My friend said he had seen it all before. (Well he was five years older than me at thirteen I was only eight) We heard...
Hello guys, I am your Anand back with the third part of the story about blissful submission. Thank you, guys, for your support and love. Just like the title suggests, this part is the most erotic of the three parts involving a lot of humiliation, cum, and a lot more submission. Let me give you a quick tip. Guys – a Dom-Sub relationship does not always involve humiliation, badmouthing, etc. It is a special form of lovemaking that requires deep trust in each other. In the story, people relinquish...
"Ha...ha... Ah..! Charles!" "Sybil!" The couple's copulation reached their peak and the woman tensed as pleasure washed over her before finally falling limp, the rhythmic motion of her panting breast all that signaled her livelihood. Reluctantly, Charles withdrew his still rigid manhood and climbed off the bed. Mechanically, he dressed, pushing his continuing erection down till it was pressed against his thigh and secured there by his underwear. Trousers covered it up shortly after....