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From: shaw.alphamale@gmail.com
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Subject: {ASSM} "HOOKED" (M/FF; F/voyeur: reluc) By David Shaw
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Date: Tue, 15 May 2007 18:10:01 -0400
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"HOOKED"
(M/FF; F/voyeur: reluc)

BY

DAVID SHAW
shaw.alphamale@gmail.com

www.alphamalestories.com

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Once, long ago, banks had more humans in them than computers. And a
bank clerk who put a foot wrong in a dim corridor could get herself
all tangled up with a very important customer.
----------------------------------------------------------------------

There's a financial newspaper on my desk and it says that Georgie
Kalvos is dead. I'm half wishing he's doing a stint in hell and half
hoping he's got plenty of good looking women down there to keep him
company -- yes, and an occasional bottle of ouzo as well. It's been
many years since I last saw him and if I'm going to remember him I'll
remember him as he was. A middle aged man with the smile of a boy, the
build of a gorilla, the manners of a courtier and the morals of a
shark.

Talking of sharks, I wonder if Colette the big time Madam is
remembering Georgie and the first girl who ever turned a trick for
her? For a long time I resented Colette and Georgie because they made
a fool out of me. Yet if Colette was here now I'd gladly share a toast
with her to our Greek lover's memory. Colette runs a brothel and I run
a bank, and still I think that Georgie was one of the few real man
that either one of us has ever known.

Slowly, I rub my palms over my desk, thinking back to that other
manager's office, that other desk, the one that creaked underneath my
weight as the bars of sunlight leaking through the blinds fell onto
the dollar bills jammed into the tops of my bank-uniform nylons. I
remember the roughness of Georgie's hands between my opened thighs and
Colette's excited voice jeering at me: "Hey, Yvonne, I think he wants
to make a deposit in you!"

It was when I'd first joined the bank, as a teenage junior teller. It
was a time when all the world loved the Beatles, when computers were
still out of sight and out of mind, and when I was terribly excited
about living away from home for the first time. Not that the branch
I'd started in was located anywhere at all exciting. Just a small
fishing town where the fresh sea breeze was often tainted with the
smell of drying nets and diesel fumes from the trawlers.

The bank had arranged accommodation in the local YWCA, and it was
Colette who showed me around it for the first time. She was a plump,
cheerful girl with an outgoing personality who had the room next to
mine and also worked at the bank. In fact the bank was such a small
one that Colette and I were the sole full time staff, plus the
manager. The only other employee was a local married woman who came in
during the mornings to help with the book work.

Though everything seemed fine at first I soon had an vague impression
that Colette had something on her mind that she wanted to talk about.
One afternoon she invited me into her room to share some beer she'd
smuggled in and to have a little chat. It turned out to be a little
chat with some big surprises in it.

"Listen, Yvonne, I've got a private arrangement at the bank. The thing
is, I need your help to keep it going. The girl who had your job
before was happy to help out and I'm hoping you'll do the same."

My first reaction was a horrible fear that I was being invited to help
cook the books.

"God, no," Colette had answered, laughing. "No, it's nothing like that
at all. It's to do with Georgie Kalvos."

As new as I was to the area I already knew something about Georgie, a
classic immigrant success story. He'd arrived in town as a teenager
with only the clothes on his back and hardly able to speak a word of
English. A lot of people thought that originally he'd jumped ship. If
so, it had been the first of many smart moves: now he owned four
fishing boats, a  processing plant and even the trucks that took his
catch off to the markets had his name on their sides. But what he and
Colette could have in common I couldn't imagine. So I asked her.

"Well . . ." Colette seemed rather coy. "Before I go back to the city
I'd like to make as much spare cash as I can. And what Georgie wants
is some fun on the side. He's certainly got the money to pay for it.
The problem is that this is a small town and his wife is a Greek as
well. You know how jealous these foreign wives can be about every
little thing."

I hardly knew anything at all about marriage or marriages, whether
foreign or domestic. But I just nodded.

"So, we've got this arrangement. Every Thursday afternoon our boss
goes off to the weekly managers' meeting upstate. Which just leaves me
and the other teller in the branch. Which also means that from now on
you'll be the other teller, right?"

Yes, I said, I supposed so. Of course this was a small town back in an
era when people went on holiday without bothering to lock their doors
and bank robberies only happened in Westerns.

"So what?" I asked.

"So on Thursday afternoons Georgie comes in to collect the payroll for
his workers."

"What about it?"

Colette sighed in frustration and looking back I can't blame her. I
must have led quite a sheltered life.

"Yvonne, what I'm trying to tell you is that when he arrives I take
him into the manager's office to get the money out of the safe. He'll
arrive just before closing time and we'll be in there for about an
hour. So I'd be really grateful if you'd cash up and keep look-out for
us until I let him out of the back door. And please don't come
knocking on the office door unless you have to."

I nearly dropped my glass in surprise when I finally understood what
she was talking about: "In the bank! You're doing it with a customer
in the bank!"

"I told you, he has to be very careful about his wife not finding out.
So going to the bank for the payroll is a perfect alibi. Who's ever
going to suspect that anything would be going on there?"

"But, Colette, why do you do it?"

"For money, that's why. He leaves me a hundred dollar tip from the
wages afterwards."

I was astonished all over again. In those days fifty dollars was a
good wage for a week's work. For a woman, anyway.

"Look, all I need is for you not to tell anyone. It's worth ten bucks
for you to cover for me. The important thing is that you keep an eye
open for the boss coming back early from the meeting and maybe
dropping into the bank on his way home. He never has done yet but it
might happen sometime. If it does just ring the office bell under the
counter and then keep him talking as long as you can. It doesn't have
to be all that long because I always keep most of my clothes on -- all
except the really important bits."

I recall how she'd giggled in amusement at her own bravado. I'd
thought she was a silly little girl who was one day going to miserably
sad about how she'd sacrificed her virtue for a few dollars. Yes,
well, the world was different then, or at least a lot of us had been
brought up to think it was. Anyway if anybody wants to look for a
moral in all this, Colette is now worth millions while I'm still
looking after other peoples' money.

At the time though I was as stuck up and snotty as only a young fool
can be. I'd said that I didn't want her dollars and whatever she did
with Mr Kalvos was her business and nothing to do with me.

"Well, suit yourself," Colette had answered cheerfully. "Susie, the
last girl, she had a different ideas altogether. I'd better not tell
you about what the pair of us got up to though, or you'll be really
shocked."

And this was the same girl I'd seen carrying the collection plate
around in church on Sunday!

"But you won't tell on me?"

"No, I won't say anything -- but, Colette, isn't it -- well, awful?
You know, doing it with an old man? An older man, anyway."

That had amused her a lot: "Yvonne, Georgie is a wonderful lover. If
you ever find a man half as good you'll be lucky. Anyway, always
remember, the older the man is the more likely he is to be telling you
the truth about his vasectomy."

It was a conversation which made me think I still had a lot to learn
about life. It was also a long time before I got to sleep that night
-- especially as it was a Wednesday night. You could say I was gripped
by a lot of conflicting emotions. But for all my brave words it was my
curiosity which was most stirred. I'd always thought sex for normal
women was all to do with marriage and white gowns and honeymoons  and
lifelong romance -- not something to be bought and sold in a bank
office like any other commodity. Or was it all some huge joke that
Colette was playing on me? I finally decided it had to be a joke, and
that my co-worker must have a very strange sense of humor.

Georgie Kalvos arrived precisely when Colette said he would though,
and we both called him Mr Kalvos respectfully; after all, he was the
bank's biggest customer. And he behaved like it, with not the
slightest hint that he was there for anything but business reasons.

On the other hand, things happened exactly as Colette had predicted.
She and Georgie went off to the manager's office together and after
I'd locked the front doors and emptied the cash registers they were
still in there. Almost a quarter of an hour by then. Something more
than checking the payroll had to be going on, but what? Where they
really having sex together, or was Colette teaching him double entry
book keeping or something?

It was driving me crazy, not knowing. There was a way to find out
though -- just to slip out very quietly into the corridor and listen
for a few seconds. Whatever was going on in the office, I should get a
clue to it from some very discreet eavesdropping. I'd like to say I
had to struggle with my conscience before I decided to do it, but the
truth is that my conscience was as curious as the rest of me.

When I tiptoed out into the gloomy corridor I was totally surprised to
find that the manager's office door was half opened. What was more, I
could hear Colette muttering softly and giggling. Like a cat being
drawn towards cat mint I simply couldn't help taking a few more steps
down the corridor. And what I finally saw made me gasp and then clasp
my hands to my mouth to belatedly stifle the sound. For Colette was
bent over the desk, her back to the door. She was still wearing the
white crisp blouse which, with a dark skirt, was the bank's summer
uniform. But she certainly wasn't wearing her skirt, just a wispy pair
of  black panties, a black suspender belt and dark stockings. It was a
sight which made my heart jump, my mouth go dry and set my legs
trembling.

For some reason I had a sudden mental picture of Colette standing in
her booth and calmly serving the customers the way she was now,
perfectly normal from the waist up and  practically naked below. In
fact I'd never before seen panties like the ones she was wearing, of
the thinnest silk and briefest cut imaginable, panties which looked as
if they would float like thistle seed if somebody threw them into the
air. In fact that seemed to be exactly their raison d'etre, to be
dragged off their wearer and tossed carelessly aside by some lust
crazed male. Even at the time I couldn't help wondering where the shop
was that she'd bought them from.

George appeared in the doorway, also with his back to me. In his hand
were what looked like a wad of bills. I saw him take one of them in
his other hand, fold it and slip it into one of Colette's stocking
tops. Then the same hand lifted up and gently caressed the gusset of
her panties. Colette giggled again, stirred around on the desk top and
hissed approvingly. Her well rounded buttocks lifted up higher in an
obvious invitation to Georgie's fingers, which probed a line of blonde
curls that had suddenly appeared in the panties. I found myself
blushing at the sight.

For a second or so I actually thought  her underwear had split open,
until I realized that they had an open  gusset, that the panties were
actually designed that way, to reveal much more than they hid. At
least my curiosity was satisfied now about whether Georgie and Colette
were indeed having an affair. What also amazed me was that they hadn't
even bothered to close the door properly. Still, they certainly hadn't
seen me and all I had to do was to creep away softly from this
embarrassing situation.

And it was then, when I tried to back away, that I found out how big a
mistake I'd made. Because the hem of my skirt tugged around my legs
when I tried to step back, just as a bell tinkled inside the office. I
gasped in horror and tried to flee but my dammed skirt seemed to be
stuck in mid-air, and then I heard the sound of tearing cloth as the
bell kept on tinkling. Georgie had already swung around towards the
doorway. Panic stricken by then, I bent over and brushed my hands over
the places where the skirt seemed to be held, then yelped as something
small but viciously sharp snagged one of my fingers. The office door
flew open, casting more light into the corridor and finally letting me
see what was happening.

On each white painted wall were tiny pieces of  clear sticky tape,
opposite to each other and about two feet above the carpet. Stretched
between them was a length of very fine black fishing line which had
been  invisible in the dimly lit corridor. And hanging from every inch
of the line were tiny black painted fish hooks with four barbs
sticking out of each of them, barbs with extremely sharp points. It
was these which had gotten caught up in my skirt. In total panic I
made one last desperate attempt to pull free of the hooks and achieved
nothing but making one or two more rips just above the hemline.

The bell tinkled again as if an impatient customer was waiting and
Georgie's laughter echoed it. He bent down and picked up another
length of fishing line which was obviously attached to the one with
the hooks on. The other end was just as obviously attached to the bell
in the office.

Standing there with my mouth hanging open I stared at the man's
grinning face as I finally understood how I had stumbled into a trap,
a simple but very effective one which had snared me as easily as a
rabbit in a noose. Not only trapped, but warning Georgie and Colette
that I was standing out in the corridor! What a fool I'd been!

Before I could even think of anything to say Georgie walked towards
me, grabbed my wrists, pulled me towards him and kissed me full on the
lips. A mingled and overpowering aroma of spearmint mouthwash and
garlic went into my nose and deep down into my lungs as I made a
futile attempt to push him away. It was like trying to shove a wall
over. He simply lifted my wrists up over my shoulders without the
slightest effort, as though he were dangling a rag doll.

"Beautiful girl, Yvonne. I like you so much," he said happily.

Behind him Colette was standing in the doorway, apparently not
embarrassed at all about the way she was dressed or what I'd seen them
doing. "I thought you'd come and have a look. That's great, now you
can see as much as you like."

"No, I don't want to see anything," I protested, still squirming
ineffectually in Georgie's iron grip.

"Then how come we've caught you snooping on us? That wasn't what I
asked you to do, that was something you decided to do yourself. Keep
her there, Georgie."

Colette walked towards me, around me, so she was facing George, then
quite calmly started undoing my belt!

"What do you think you're doing!" I protested.

Colette answered me in a totally unsympathetic way: "Sorry, but I
guess you've landed yourself right in it now, Yvonne. Don't panic
though, nobody is going to hurt you."

My muscles tensed, ready to fight or flee. But how could I do either
with Georgie holding my arms and my toes hardly touching the ground?

"As for what we're doing, we're protecting ourselves, Yvonne." Colette
continued briskly. "Look, this is a pretty dangerous game Georgie and
I are playing. If his wife were to find out about this we'd have real
problems.  Personally, I want to start my own business soon and I'll
probably need a bank loan to get it off the ground. I wouldn't have
much chance of getting one if I was remembered as the girl who got
fired from a bank herself for getting screwed by the customers. So we
have to be careful."

I made one more attempt to wriggle free from Georgie and then
instantly stopped as Colette unhooked the hook and eye at the skirt's
waist. One more such movement and it was clear that my skirt was going
to slip down.

"Now, if you hadn't come into the corridor we wouldn't have bothered
about you. After all you couldn't have seen anything so you couldn't
have said for certain that anything was really going on. But you did
come near the office, you did see what was happening. It's a problem
for us then, to make sure you don't tell anybody else."

"You left the god dammed door open, didn't you? I wouldn't have seen
anything but for that!"

Colette laughed at my anger, reached out and toyed with my zipper tab.

"No you wouldn't have seen anything, so you would have crept up closer
to the door and listened instead, and you would have been just as
certain about what was going on from the noises we'd have been making.
We left the door open so that if the bell was rung we could be out in
the corridor before you ran away. Truth to tell, I didn't think the
fishhooks would work as well as they did. They were Georgie's idea
when we were planning this."

"What do you mean, planning it?"

"Well, it wouldn't have been much of a plan if you'd stayed out front
as you were supposed to. There wouldn't have been any problem either
about you telling tales on us."

I hastily shook my head in rebuttal: "There isn't any problem. I won't
tell anyone, I promise."

"Yeah, Yvonne maybe, but Georgie and I would be much surer of that if
you had as much to lose as we do." She jerked the zipper down and
tweaked the pleats on the skirt.

Even at that moment I was surprised about how Georgie was just
standing there, letting Colette do all the talking. I had already
begun to realize how strong a personality she had. Now I had a
demonstration of  how ruthless she was as well as my skirt dropped
down around my feet. Georgie laughed and said something in Greek which
sounded as if he was pleased. His head was bent forward as he looked
down at my legs.

"Oh, he likes you alright. He's been hoping like hell you'd come
along, haven't you, Georgie?"

I tried to speak calmly: "Please, Colette, what is it you want me to
do?"

She gave a little half smile,  put her hands on my hips, lifted them
underneath my shirt, her fingertips scratched at my skin, and then
went down into the tops of my panties.

"Colette, no!"

"Ten . . nine . . eight . . seven . . and still coming down!" Colette
mocked me as she pulled my underwear down around my legs. Georgie
whooped with glee at what she was doing. Because I was being held up
on my toes the bottom of my shirt had been lifted almost to my waist
and between the shirt and my stocking tops I was now totally naked. It
was all a nightmare, impossible, that I could be displayed like this
in front of a leering man.

"Colette, you're a slut!" I cursed her.

"And you're a miserable fucking bitch, Yvonne. For God's sake put a
smile on your face and enjoy the party. And don't worry, you can come
as you are."

She laughed at the expression on my face, knelt down and finished
slipping the panties down to ankle height: "Off the deck, please,
Georgie."

"OK", Georgie responded, lifting me completely off the floor for the
second it took Colette to slip the waistband over my uniform lace-up
shoes. She knelt back and jerked the fishing line free of the wall,
then stood up holding my skirt and panties. "So that's it, Georgie.
You can let her go now."

My heels fell back onto the carpet with a perceptible jolt as he
released me: "You are OK, Yvonne?" Georgie asked me, his weathered
face split open in a huge smile.

I'd actually started to massage  my wrists before I realized how my
shirt was still rucked up around my middle and hastily tugged it down.
Even with my shirt held down at full stretch and bending forward I
was  barely decent.

Colette stepped past and looked scornful: "You live in perpetual fear
of giving any man any pleasure, don't you, Yvonne?"

"Give me my clothes back."

"Hmmm . . .  maybe your skirt, later. Maybe . . . but not these." She
smiled and held up my panties, turning over the waistband and looking
at them closely. "When you were unpacking in your room I noticed this
neat habit you have of inking your name on all your clothing. It's a
hangover from school camp you've got to abandon, Yvonne. The last
thing a smart young lady should is to put her name in indian ink on
her undies. You never know where they may turn up. Like these, for
example."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm going to put these and your skirt away in the safe
and keep them locked up until Georgie and I are finished. Afterwards,
I'll give you your skirt back but not these little charmers. Right at
the back of the safe are a pile of mortgage files that usually only
get taken out once every six months. So I'm going to tuck these away
in those files. Which will make it an interesting situation, because
there's only two keys to the safe, the manager's and mine. If you keep
quiet about Georgie and me I'll take these out before the mortgages
get checked. On the other hand, if rumors should start up in the town
about wild goings on in the bank, then old pumpkin-head might get a
tip-off to take a close look inside his safe. Maybe he'll get a notion
you somehow managed to plant your panties inside it because you've got
an uncontrollable passion for him."

Colette laughed at the idea, and no wonder. The manager was so fat he
could hardly waddle and his  head did look uncannily like a Halloween
mask. Not that it stopped him making fresh remarks to all the girls,
which was about the only fresh thing about him, as he had a body odor
problem like a garbage truck. As for the idea of him finding my
underwear tucked away in the back of the office safe -- well, the
ensuing interview was just unimaginable!

"Colette --you can't do that! Please!"

Her response was to bend down in front of the safe and to put away not
only my skirt but hers as well, folding them up neatly as she did so.
With Georgie standing beside her there was no way I could even try to
stop her.  Then she pulled out a couple of the files from the back of
the safe and made a big thing of blowing dust off the covers.

"If you think about things for a few minutes, Yvonne, I guess you'll
soon realize there's a way I don't have to do this. After all, it
would be a pity for all of us if pumpkin-head were to find these
accidentally through spring cleaning his safe or something." She
pushed the panties inside one of the covers and replaced the files.

It seemed clear enough, even in my naivete, what she was suggesting. I
didn't want to say it out openly though, that if I did for Georgie
what she was clearly prepared to do for him, then I would be just as
implicated as she was. And if I was as guilty as she was there'd be no
need for any blackmailing items left in the safe because there was no
way I would dare talk about any of this.

Georgie grinned at me as Colette relocked the safe and stood up,
hanging the key back around her neck on a thin silver chain. As soon
as she was upright he grunted impatiently, caught her by the scruff of
her neck and pushed her back towards the desk. Colette giggled and
leaned forward over the side, in the same position as when I'd first
seen her. Georgie went down on his knees, hooked his fingers into the
split gusset of her panties, pulled them apart and then buried his
face into her bottom like a bear snuffling for honey. Colette laughed
and raised her buttocks again to give him room to work. She looked to
her side, towards me, with a sardonic smile.

"Haven't you run away, yet, Yvonne?"

"No," I replied, my mouth incredibly dry. "No, I haven't run away. How
far could I run, dressed like this?"

Colette giggled, partly at what I was saying and partly because of
what Georgie's tongue was doing to her. "Why don't you make yourself
useful, then? Go to the other side of the desk, where Georgie can see
you, and take off your shirt for him. Before he gets angry and rips it
off you."

It seemed to take ages before my feet began moving. Even longer before
I was standing in front of Colette's head with Georgie's keen eyes
looking up at me like a feeding sea eagle's from over her prone back.
My own eye was caught by a length of thin black thread which went from
underneath the desk to the top handle of the filing cabinet, a small
shiny bell like a Christmas tree decoration hanging from it. Obviously
it was the bell I'd heard giving the alarm when I'd been caught. Once
again I felt angry and astonished at how easily I'd fallen into the
trap which had been laid for me. But I'd only fallen into it because
I'd fallen into temptation and now I must do my penance.

Standing behind the manager's padded chair, I was just about decently
shielded as I began to unbutton the front of my shirt. Colette was
glancing up frequently and still gasping in delight at Georgie's
handiwork -- tongue work -- while my trembling fingers fumbled at the
buttons. When I slipped the shirt off my arms and put it down across
the top of the chair, I was left with only my bra and jewelry above my
waist, and only my stockings and suspenders on behind the chair.

"Very nice girl, Yvonne. You are very beautiful." I looked up from my
discarded shirt and saw that Georgie was leaning back on his haunches,
the same big smile on his face. One of his hands was exploring Colette
where his mouth has just been, though it seemed to be something he was
less interested in doing than in looking at me.

"Turn that chair around and sit on it," Colette demanded.

Wondering what she had in mind I did as she wanted, turning the
manager's swivel chair around and sitting in it with my back to her. I
heard her moving and felt her behind me, just before the chair was
rotated again. Colette had turned it, with Georgie still on the other
side of the desk, standing now and grinning widely at me as I made a
last futile effort to protect my modesty by putting my hands between
my legs.  Her sharp fingernails dug into my earlobes, painfully.

"Hands on each side, honey, and knees wide apart. Here's where the fun
really starts for you."

I did as she told me, my fingernails pressing hard against the chair's
leather padded arm rests.

Georgie sank back down onto the carpet, behind the desk and out of
sight, before appearing again as he crawled underneath it, his thick
black hair moving up between my  black stockings. I felt the tickling
of his mustache's ends against my sensitive skin and gasped.  Georgie
laughed, pressed against me even closer and put his tongue against my
bush of pubic hairs, dampening them. At the same moment he released a
catch on the side of the chair which he seemed to be very familiar
with and I slumped backwards. When the chair had settled into the new
position I could see Colette looking down at me with interest, and
Georgie's face peering up at me with even more interest.

"It's like being in a dentist's chair, but without the pain, just lots
of pleasure," Colette encouraged me. "All we need now is a couple more
adjustments. Lift your legs up and put them on the desk."

Georgie's hands seemed rough and strong as he put them behind my
knees, on the soft hot skin underneath the nylon stockings. He helped
me lift my legs up until I could rest the heels of my shoes on  top of
the desk, and I hoped to God I wasn't marking the polished wooden
surface. Georgie seemed far more interested in the wet mark he'd made
on me, blowing softly on the place. This couldn't be happening, not in
the bank, not with a man's eyes only inches away from the most
intimate part of my body, not with his breath fluttering against a
dampness that was more and more my own involuntary reaction to that
first touch of his tongue.

It all seemed so much a lunatic's dream that it seemed quite normal
for Colette to be pulling my bra straps off my shoulders. "OK, Georgie
boy, I've kept my side of the deal. She's all yours."

Again I felt the stiff hairs on Georgie's upper lip scratching me,
again I felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue working against me,
probing its target area with practiced skill. It was like having an
electric eel swimming into me, an indescribable sensation.

"Deal -- what deal?" I asked in what sounded like a half strangled
voice.

"Oh, Georgie always paid a nice fat bonus for the fun of fucking me
and Susie together. As soon as he saw you he offered me the same deal
again if I could get you to join in. And it looks as if he's going to
have to pay up."

"No - no. I won't . . ." Even as I was making the denial I was
gripping the arm rests like an astronaut during blastoff and beginning
to moan with pleasure. Colette's fingers curled around the shoulder
straps, holding them out each side of me and horizontally, then
jerking them left and right, again and again, shaking the cups and
slowly but surely shucking my breasts out of them.

"Colette!" I squealed in protest and then everything went loose, with
the trapped flesh breaking free and falling out on one side and then
the other.

She laughed and Georgie leaned back and looked up at me, taking a long
slow look which made me blush and lower my eyes in shame behind the
empty cups resting on top of my exposed breasts.

"Yvonne, you are very beautiful girl. But you need a man to make you a
woman. When I fuck you I make you a very happy woman."

His hands, those work roughened hands settled on my thighs, slid over
the stocking tops, the thumbs touched my pussy and spread the lips
apart as if he was opening an oyster before tasting the meat inside.

"No! No!"

Georgie leaned forward again, licking me much deeper and more
thoroughly until I was wriggling around in the chair, the regular
creaking noise from underneath it counter pointing my panting as I
wondered how much more of this I could stand. Not only was that tongue
driving me crazy, Colette had begun scratching at my tightening
nipples very, very lightly with her nails. She chuckled as she saw my
hands touch the top Georgie's head and stroke it.

"Georgie, honey,  I think I'd better get the altar ready so we can
sacrifice a virgin who looks like she badly needs it!"

Colette was absolutely right, of course, because eventually they got
me into a state where I wanted Georgie Kalvos more than I'd ever
wanted anything in my life, more than I'd believed it was possible to
want anything. Watching with bulging eyes I saw her go to the sofa at
the side of the office, pick up the square seat squabs and put them
down on the top of the desk, only pausing for a second as I suddenly
squealed. Georgie had pushed a massive finger straight up my bottom
and I was clenched around it like a thanksgiving turkey being stuffed.
When he scratched me inside with his fingernail I arched back so much
I thought the chair was going to topple over.

"Behave yourself, Mr Kalvos," Colette said mildly as if he was a
naughty schoolboy. "I think you need to come away from there for a
minute or two."

As always, he did as she told him, crawling out backwards from
underneath the desk and standing up. At least it was a relief to have
that finger removed.

"That's the wonderful thing about men," Colette said to me. "As long
as they can screw themselves stupid they're as easy to control as cart
horses. Just remember, Yvonne, men are tool using animals and women
are men using animals."

There never was any doubt about Colette, she was a natural born
brothel keeper right from the beginning. Going back to the sofa she
collected the two loose cushions and stacked them at one end of the
desk.

"I suppose I'd better undress you as well, hadn't I?" She was speaking
to Georgie again as if he was a little boy, smirking like an indulgent
mother as she showed her skill at loosening belts again, this time the
one around Georgie's pants.  Then she glanced at me, expression and
voice changing instantly as if she was talking to a slave.

"Yvonne, kneel down here and unlace Georgie's shoes."

I struggled to get out of the chair, walked unsteadily around the
desk, then knelt down on the carpet in front of them. Somehow it
seemed quite natural that I should be a slave, and that a slave should
be stripped off ready to pleasure her master, her breasts hanging out
underneath her empty bra cups and wearing nothing but stockings and
shoes below it. Indeed, to be completely truthful, my greatest concern
right then was a fear of pulling at the wrong ends of the shoelaces
and turning them into unworkable knots so Georgie would get mad at me.
But instead, the laces fell apart easily and the brown loafers -- I
can see them still -- slipped off his feet. He took a step back from
them as Colette walked around between us, lowering Georgie's pants.
She knelt down in front of him as she did so, and Georgie rested his
hands briefly on her shoulders as he lifted his legs out of the pants.
It was like watching a pair of ballroom dancers going through a well-
rehearsed routine.

She stood up again, still facing him and walked backwards towards the
desk. "Come on, Georgie boy, time to let us do the work."

He moved with her, again as if they were dancing face to face, until I
saw her fingers were holding onto the huge erection that jutted out in
front of his loins. It looked like the ones I'd seen in the dirty
pictures the girls at school had passed around but I'd never imagined
anything that size in real life, no matter how big the man. I couldn't
believe a normal looking girl like Colette had been taking that
monster into her. God help me!

Georgie lay back on top of the desk, his head on the cushions and his
cock standing up in its swollen pride. Colette put her hand on it
again, gently teasing the outer skin up and down in short movements.

"OK, you come and stand between his legs, Yvonne."

I did as she wanted, while Colette continued to play with Georgie as
she smiled at me.

"The Queen of England is married to a Greek -- did you know that? I
wonder if she does this for him . . . ".  She leaned forward, her
carefully pinned hair staying exactly in place, licked the tip of  his
cock, then put her mouth over it and slowly moved her head up and down
for a few seconds as Georgie groaned with pleasure. After that she
stood upright again, smiling even more widely.

"I hope you're watching closely, Yvonne, because this is what you're
going to be doing every Thursday afternoon from now on."

My throat was too constricted to say anything. All I could do was to
nod my head in a kind of stupefied daze.  "Take a hold of it then,"
Colette said. "It won't bite you -- it may do a lot of other things to
you, but it won't bite."

I put my fingers where hers had been, astonished at the heat of the
skin and the power of the blood pulsing through the swollen veins. It
was as if all the force in Georgie's body had gathered together in
this one limb with a temporary life of its own that demanded everybody
else's attention. Tentatively, I tweaked the tiny amount of play in
the tightly stretched skin as Colette had done. It was a surprise to
me that he reacted in the same way as he had done to her, muttering
with obvious pleasure.

"Watch this," she said, and scratched between his thighs at the bottom
of his two crinkled up testicles. Georgie gasped and twitched in what
seemed like an involuntary reaction.

"Works every time," Colette said smugly. "Practice it for a while."

I did as she wanted, holding the cock with one hand and scratching
underneath his balls as Georgie jerked up and down in response. He
looked at me with eyes like a hungry spaniel begging for scraps  and
also at Colette as she swiftly took off her shirt.  I thought sourly
that it was something of a change for her to be taking off her own
clothes instead of everybody else's.

She pulled her bra straps off her shoulders and then tugged the wide
pink cups down around her waist. Her breasts were not only bigger than
mine but with large nipples for their size. Colette went to the other
end of the desk and put her hands underneath the cushions, raising
Georgie's head a few more inches. He laughed and reached up, taking
the brown patches of each areola fully into his hands, but still
staring at me.

"OK, Yvonne, bend over him and rub your tits around his cock." Colette
sounded very breathless herself now, probably because of the way
Georgie's fingers were mashing her breasts.

I did as she wanted, astounded again by the heat and energy inside
that jutting phallus symbol as it pressed up against me whilst I
slithered around on top of it.

"Lick his stomach, Yvonne. Lick it."

His skin down in front of me was lighter colored than his face, what
little of it I could see under what seemed like an incredible amount
of body hair. Nobody had ever told me that men had fur all over them.
Some of them, anyway. There were bars of  bright light from the
setting sun coming through the blinds and lying across his body in
golden stripes, one of them centered exactly over Georgie's belly
button.

Still rubbing myself against his cock, I leaned forward and started
licking where the sunlight had fallen, as if  I was worshipping nature
itself by poking my tongue into that furry little depression. It
didn't seem too much of a fanciful thought, not as I was, spreadeagled
out on top of  a body of awesome strength that was so obviously ready
to start rutting like a stag in season. I heard Colette gasp with pain
and knew why, having experienced the power of Georgie's grip myself.

"Alright, Yvonne, down on your knees."

Both pairs of were fixed on me as I lowered myself down between
Georgie's muscular thighs, holding his shaft tightly with my right
hand. When I flicked the loose skin again I saw him squeeze Colette's
boobs so hard her white flesh bulged out between his fingers as if it
were newly mixed dough. She flicked her head back with her mouth
hanging open, somewhere between pain and ecstasy. When his grip eased
she spoke to me.

"You've never sucked a man's cock before?"

There didn't seem any point in being shy about anything now.

"No, I haven't," I answered her, though my voice was hardly more than
a croak.

She gasped again at Georgie's handling, then looked down at him.
"You're going to be the first man she ever does this for, Georgie.
You're going to be the first one she ever gives a blow job, the first
man who ever fucks  her. You'll pay for that?"

Georgie barked back something in Greek, then said: "Yes -- yes,
everything I said!"

"OK then. Yvonne, take off your bra first."

I let the bra fall to the carpet. Georgie's eyes were like a kid's at
Christmas. On an impulse, I cupped my breasts in my hands and gently
squeezed them so the taut tips were shown off. I felt I wanted to
excite him and yet it was a surprise to see him respond by clutching
at Colette so fiercely she yelped.

"Careful, Georgie, damn you. Yvonne, lean forward, keep your face up.
Lick him first, at the top of his cock, then up and down the back of
it, and then his balls -- do it slowly, slowly."

She was still holding Georgie's head up so he could watch me as I
obeyed the orders. Suddenly I found the courage to look back directly
into his eyes as I moved closer and began my novice attempt at the
ritual of female submission. As the tip of my tongue touched the tip
of his erection he snorted as a stallion would and those dominating
eyes flickered like loose light globes. Suddenly I realized that this
wasn't something nasty or obscene, it was fun. Firstly, I was giving
him back the pleasure he'd given me, and, even more satisfying, as I
was doing it he kept on mangling Colette's tits and making her gasp
with pain. About time that fat arrogant bitch got a taste of her own
medicine, I thought.

It was too good to last though. He finally let her go and she pulled
herself up onto the desk and on top of him on her hands and knees. All
Georgie had to do was to wait until she could position her pussy over
his mouth and he was pulling her panties apart again to lick her.
Colette immediately returned the compliment by bending forward towards
me.

"I'll lick his cock, you lick his balls."

I was almost reluctant to give Georgie up to her but I did so, and
moved my tongue down to wet the tightly crinkled sacs of flesh at the
bottom of his shaft. Georgie was making muffled sounds of delight. I
wondered if he might come now and whether he would think he'd got his
money's worth if he did. It seemed to me that he was likely to come in
Colette's mouth and that would be it for the day, with him being such
an old guy and all. If I'd known anything at all about Georgie's
powers of recuperation I'd also have known better. But what happened
instead was that he suddenly gave Colette a tremendously loud double
slap on the cheeks of her ass. She lifted herself up and lifted her
head from his cock, giving the shiny wet tip a final rub with her
thumb.

"It's all yours now, Yvonne. It's fucking time and you're the one
that's got to find a home for this."

"Oh God! What's it like, Colette -- please?"

She giggled: "Nothing to worry about, honey -- the only thing you'll
notice afterwards is that you've started walking like a cowboy!"

Georgie must have heard what she said, even with her thighs clamped
over his ears, because he laughed loudly. Then Colette was quickly
sliding off the desk on one side and Georgie was standing up in front
of me. He grabbed my breasts, each one almost covered by a huge hand
and swung us around in a second, so I was pressed against the desk.
Then he lifted me by my tits as I yelled out and clung to his
forearms, before going backwards and down, the edge of the desk behind
my knees and the leather seat squabs underneath me. Georgie squatted
down, grabbed my ankles and lifted them up above his shoulders,
looking  down at me with a odd, almost solemn look on his face as
Colette pushed a cushion under my head. She, of course, was still
laughing.

"We'll make you comfortable, Yvonne, and then the doctor can start his
de-virginizing operation."

The other cushion she pushed underneath my butt and George stepped
closer, his hands slipping down to my knees as I saw my shoes raised
up towards the ceiling until he laces were hanging down.

"One minute, Georgie, one minute, and then you can fuck her
stupid . . ." She went off to where a briefcase was in the corner,
opened the lid and came rushing back with a roll of money. Georgie
lowered my legs onto his shoulders and started pushing the bills into
the tops of my nylons as I'd seen him do to Colette.

"This is a union job, Yvonne," Colette said. "Nobody does anything for
the boss here for free." She reached down between us. "Yvonne, I'd
like to introduce you to Georgie's prick, and Georgie, say hallo to
Yvonne's cunt."

I could feel the head of that huge cock pushing past my lips as she
guided him into me. "Any last words as a virgin, honey?"

"God yes, make him fuck me, please," I begged her.

And Georgie did. Inch by inch, with my cunt muscles clamping tight
around his erection as I locked my fingers around his neck. He head
came down, his lips on mine, puffs of garlic and mint flavored air
were blowing into my nose once more,  then the same tongue which had
been licking my pussy was now deep inside my mouth. My tongue against
his, his body driving against mine, that huge cock reaming into me and
Colette whispering into our ears.

"Fuck her, George, fuck her until she screams. Fuck the silly little
bitch stupid!"

George did exactly that, until I had to turn my head away and let out
the cries within me as I climaxed in a crescendo of pain and ecstasy,
ready to die myself and just as ready to die for this man who'd made
me feel more alive than I'd ever done before. A second -- an eternity
-- later, our tongues were writhing against each other as his hot seed
pumped into my womb. When he finally got off me his sweat soaked shirt
peeled away from my breasts and stomach like a snake's skin as I
gulped for air.

Later still I was kneeling on the floor in front of the chair, licking
off my own love juice from George's cock. Colette showed me what to do
to bring it to life with my mouth, an impatience inside my newly
conquered cunt to be used again matching George's resurgent manhood.
But this time it was different treatment, bent over the desk with
Colette holding my ears as George rubbed grease up my anus with a
finger which seemed twice as big as it had the first time, and the
fingernail twice as sharp.

"What are you doing . . . ?"

"He's going to put his cock up your ass," Colette chuckled.

"No!"

George's hands grabbed my buttocks as if they were plundered treasure
and held them firmly captive as he made his grand entrance into me
from behind. I couldn't believe he was doing this to me, I couldn't
believe Colette was helping him by holding as firmly to my ears as
Georgie was to my ass. But it was true, and my eyes were watering more
than enough to prove it.

George pinned the tops of my legs against the edge of the desk with my
sphincter ring being forced open: I made a last incoherent plea for
mercy, Colette laughed and George rammed into me as if I was a novice
bullfighter suddenly hit by a ton of testosterone charged meat. Not
only was I pushed forward, so was the desk, so was Colette, until the
roller chair she was sitting in was against the wall. Not that I cared
because I was sure I was going to die on the spot. I felt like an hen
trying to lay an ostrich egg, I felt like a victim of Vlad the
impaler, and Colette had to force my face down onto one of the
cushions on top of the desk to stifle my screams and protests.

"For God's sake, shut up, Yvonne. You sound like Donald Duck getting a
flying fuck."

Yeah, from Dumbo, the flying elephant. But all I could think of was
what she'd said before, about walking like a cowboy. Walking wasn't
going to be my problem from now on but sitting down surely would be.
Then George put his hands underneath me to finger my tingling clitoris
and I was slamming my forearms on top of the desk like a surrendering
wrestler as the Greek became my partner again in another orgiastic
blow up. I fell off the desk and lay in a tangle of arms and legs with
my man, half laughing and half crying.

I wouldn't have cared if I'd been dragged out into the middle of the
town and left in the old colonial stocks the way I was, stark naked
and still hot from my sins. In fact it was a fate which would have
been a lot easier to live with than what Colette was planning to
blackmail me into doing. And I'd never even heard yet about the
Blessing of the Fleet and what the special treat was that Georgie was
planning to give his skippers. Or -- to be more precise -- whom the
treat was and how she was going to find herself hung up stark naked in
a fishing net



THE END

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