Carole's Indoctrination

Carole Banning sat in a chair in the front room of her home, staring out the big picture window into the night. From across the room, the big grandfather clock chimed three times, marking the time as 3 a.m. on a Tuesday.

She was in turmoil this night like she'd never been before in her life. Every assumption she'd ever had about her life through its 43 years had been swept away the previous day, when she had been called up to the big office of the presidents of her company, Bourne and Bourne, a major stock brokerage firm in a mid-sized Southern city.

There they claimed to have extensive evidence that she had embezzled $150,000 from a major client of the firm. An accountant, she had supposedly had the access to that money and now it was missing. She knew she hadn't taken that money, as anyone who knew her would have sworn. But they had insisted that they had hard evidence of her misdeeds then offered her a way out, but only if she had sex with both of them right then, right there in the office.

Naturally, she had balked, but when the security chief slapped handcuffs on her wrists and started to haul her out the door, she had panicked and relented. She had stripped for them and the Bourne twins had proceeded to spend four full hours fucking her, and she had to admit that it had been the best sex of her life. They had taken her to heights of ecstasy that she had only dreamed of going before. Then, when they had finished, they made her an offer to help her, but it was a ghastly one. They would pay the client back his money out of their own pockets, so they said, but she would have to become the company's sex toy – their whore – to work off what they said she owed them. Otherwise, she would go to jail, she would be prosecuted, and, more than likely, be convicted and sent to prison.

They had sent her home early to give her time to think about it. But when she'd returned home all she'd felt like doing was taking a shower and going to bed. She had stirred momentarily around 7 p.m., when her husband, Mark, had returned home from his job as a copy editor for the local daily newspaper, but she had fallen back into a deep slumber as soon as he left the room.

She had awakened around midnight sweating from a dream in which naked men with big dicks surrounded her, all of whom wanted to fuck her, and she dreamed that many of them had and the rest had shot cum all over her body. As she lay awake staring at the ceiling listening to Mark snore, she asked herself, "Is that to be my life?"

She got up quietly and made a pot of coffee then sat to ponder her future. As she sat in the silent house, she thought about what had transpired. At one point, she had started to weep about her situation, but then she stopped and told herself sternly that the time for tears was past. She had to think this through logically, without the hysterics.

To begin with, she couldn't figure out how the shortfall in the Henderson account had come to be. She vaguely recalled the account; it had been one of dozens she'd handled during her early months on the job. They'd really loaded her down with work during that time; to see how she handled pressure is what her boss, Leon, had told her. So it was possible that she had made some kind of a clerical error. But she was no thief, and she couldn't understand why the Bournes refused to believe her.

"Why are they like that," Carole thought. "What makes men want to treat women that way?" The Bournes were a mysterious pair, rather brusque and business-like – at least to the public – but they'd shown a brutal, animal arrogance with her in their office. However, they had also shown themselves to be wildly inventive lovers, too, she conceded. Carole's pussy began to moisten as the images from the previous day washed through her memory.

"How did they get like that?" she asked herself finally.

If she had known something of their family background, she might have gotten a good insight into how some men are warped by their upbringing. Peter and Paul Bourne were the only children of a distant father, who married six times before he died at a relatively young age. The family was one of the oldest and most prominent in the state, having arrived before the American Revolution. Rumor had it that the first of the family to arrive in America had been a lord who had had to flee England for seducing another noble's wife.

Whatever caused him to come here, he had gotten rich as a Low Country planter, and at one point not long before the Civil War, the family had owned more slaves than any other in the state. Peter and Paul's father had inherited the plantation, and had modernized the operation. It was still one of the largest privately-owned farms in the state, but the brothers didn't own it. And that was the source of much of their animosity toward women. Indeed, the way they were treated by their father's wives in general fueled much of their anger and disgust with the female gender.

Howard Bourne's first wife, the twins' mother, had been an alcoholic who ran off with one of their father's business rivals. The second Mrs. Bourne had pretty much ignored them, leaving most of their upbringing to the hired help. But the third Mrs. Bourne had been a knockout who happened to be a true nymphomaniac. She had seduced the twins when they were 14, and had taught them much of what they knew about sex over the course of about a six-month period.

But when they had wearied of fucking their stepmother, they'd casually betrayed her to their father, concocting evidence of adultery. Their father had literally thrown her out on the street, and she had eventually died a junkie's death from an overdose of heroin.

They had been unable to seduce the fourth Mrs. Bourne, but the fifth one, during their college days, they nailed repeatedly, then they betrayed her, too. Thus they had come to see most women as nothing but gold-digging whores out to get a free ride on an income they hadn't earned. And they were adamant about removing any obstacle to their father's estate. But the sixth Mrs. Bourne slipped from their grasp.

It had happened as they were around 30 and just starting to work for their father. She'd actually been younger than them, by several years. They had developed an immediate dislike for the woman – and she for them – and they had quarreled with their father quite heatedly about his marriage to her. Unbeknownst to them, their father had been so incensed by their opposition to his new wife that he had rewritten his will, under prodding from his wife, cutting his sons out of the business, although he attempted to mollify them with a generous cash bequest.

Not long after that, he had dropped dead of a heart attack while having sex, which meant that his last will was binding, and it left the plantation to his wife, and then to the daughter that she had six months after their father's death. Just like that, the twins had been squeezed out of their rightful estate, and when the will held up in court, it left them slightly crazed.

They couldn't touch their stepmother, who had wisely turned operation of the farm over to a business manager, who soon became her new husband. They had seethed with resentment over all of this, and had irrationally transferred that resentment to any woman who bore a resemblance to their stepmother.

So when they had made a small fortune on Wall Street in the go-go economy of the 1980s and started their own company, one of the ways they got back at their stepmother was to create the liaison officer, the company whore, and they'd filled it with surrogates that looked like her: long dark hair, average build and pretty, and they had used women whose age closely approximated their father's widow at any given time. The women also had to be married, just so they could show their contempt for the institution of marriage. Then they'd have their people fuck her relentlessly over a period of months, taking her deeper and deeper into depravity, until she finally gave out. They took a cruel delight in breaking up marriages that had been happy, before the wives came in contact with the Bournes.

So far, in the 18 years since the company's founding, 13 women had passed through the office that they'd built specifically for the purpose, and their fates, with only a few exceptions, had not been pretty. One woman had committed suicide, three had had nervous breakdowns, several had ended up as real-life prostitutes, a couple had overdosed on drugs or alcohol and had had to be committed, and every single one had been divorced from their husbands as a result of what the company had made them do.

One potential liaison officer had stubbornly balked at the notion, and they had used the trumped-up evidence they had manufactured to send her to prison for a 6-10 years stretch, just as an example. They always made sure they pointed that out when they pitched their offer to the prospect, as they had with Carole the previous day.

Carole didn't know much of this, but she did know that she was in deep trouble whichever way she turned. She had considered the possibility that the whole thing was a set-up, and she thought about calling their bluff. But what if they really did have evidence that implicated her in an embezzlement scheme? And what if they did in fact prosecute her, as they insisted they would? Just fighting the charges in court would cost a small fortune, which she and Mark didn't have. And even if she won, there would always be a stigma attached to her name, always the little doubt in some future employer's mind about her honesty.

No, she finally decided, she couldn't take that chance. Besides, there was something else deep inside that was pulling her inexorably toward accepting the Bournes' offer. The prospect of endless, mindless, casual sex was somehow alluring. Carole had always had a strong sex drive; it had just been tamped down over the years by the demands of work and family. In fact, until the previous day, it had been two months since she'd had sex. She hadn't thought she missed it until the day before, when the Brothers unlocked the key to her animal lust.

Now, suddenly, a whole new vista of erotic pleasures awaited her, and all she had to do to experience it was show up for work that morning, dressed in a dark skirt, sheer white blouse, and pantyhose that were slit at the crotch. Nothing else. Besides, she rationalized, it was just sex; it wasn't like she was going to fall in love with any of these people. She still loved Mark; what she did at work would strictly be business.

Without consciously deciding, Carole found herself in her bedroom, quietly rummaging through her dresser drawer, fishing for pantyhose. As she did, she found her long-neglected vibrator; the one Mark had bought her several years ago on a trip to New Orleans. Grabbing a pair of hose and the vibe, she next went to the closet in search of a skirt and blouse. The skirt was easy enough to find, but the closest she could come to a sheer blouse was a cream-colored silk blouse. It would have to do. Quietly, she gathered her things and returned downstairs.

Once she'd returned to the front room, she sat back on the chair and once again relived the events of the previous day, and soon her pussy was bubbling with arousal. Carole took the vibrator, pulled her nightgown up around her waist and inserted the bullet-shaped toy into her cunt. With a flick of the wrist, she turned on the power, laid back and masturbated furiously. After she came sharply a few minutes later, she packed her hang-up bag with her outfit and returned to bed.

She lay there wide-awake, holding her husband, who was oblivious to anything at that moment. He didn't deserve this, she thought. He's a good man, a kind, decent man, who works hard and loves his wife. If he ever found out what she was going to have to do to keep her job and avoid jail, it would break his heart, and ruin their family. But that, too, was a chance she was going to have to take.

Carole was already up and dressed when the rest of her family crawled sleepily out of bed to face the new day. She was dressed in the sweats she wore three mornings a week for her workout at her gym. She had long ago gotten in the habit of going to the gym first thing in the morning. It got her body up and flowing, and took some of the stress off the job. Then she would dress and fix herself up for the workday.

She didn't want to linger over her family and let the guilty feelings arise, so she gave everyone a quick kiss and headed out the door. After walking five miles on the track at her gym, she had dressed as instructed, and headed for the 12-story building her company occupied. She had felt very self-conscious walking from the gym to her car, even though her outfit was covered by an overcoat to ward off the chill of early spring. Even though she was covered, she could still feel her naked tits jiggling under her blouse, and she could feel cool air wafting up her short skirt to her equally naked pussy.

In spite of her apprehension, she was excited. Now that she had made her decision, she felt a sense of danger, of adventure. She was sailing into uncharted waters, and though it was scary, it also gave her a thrill. And there was no doubt in her mind that she would be good as the "liaison officer." Carole was a person who once she made a decision, she made it and never looked back, and once she committed to something, she committed herself all the way. She had always been of the philosophy that if you're going to do something, do it right. She also felt that if she was good, really good, the Bournes might keep her term of service short.

Carole left her overcoat in the car after she had parked in the company lot, even though it was a chilly morning. Her nipples were like hard bumps thrusting into the silk material of her blouse and she could see her tits jiggle as she walked. She wasn't an especially busty woman, but she had enough tit flesh that her breasts bounced slightly with each step. She felt like she was on stage as she walked to the building right at 8:15, just as she had been told.

She felt the eyes of everyone looking at her as she made her way to the elevator and headed for her fifth-floor office. But when she got there, she found the office empty and all of her possessions in a box with a note telling her to come see her boss, Leon, the head of the accounting office, immediately.

Leon sat behind his desk with the makings of a stupendous hard-on as he anticipated what was to come. Just thinking about Carole's body got him roaring. He'd wanted to nail her from the first day she'd been there, but he knew she was off-limits to him, at least until today. Thinking about what he was going to do to the pretty brunette was too much. With a groan, he opened his slacks, fished out his rock-hard cock and began to stroke it lightly. He was so engrossed in what he as doing that he literally jumped when his secretary announced over the intercom that Carole was here to see him.

Carole wore a quizzical expression on her face as she entered Leon's office.

"Why is my office empty?" she asked. "I mean, I'm here, aren't I? I've accepted the Brothers' offer. I mean, has something changed?" Carole had the briefest moment's hope that she might have somehow wriggled off the Bournes' hook. But Leon quickly disabused her of that notion when he stood up to reveal his hard dick sticking out of his fly.

"No, dear, you're moving upstairs, up to the top floor," Leon said with a wolfish grin. "That's where the Bournes keep all of their whores. They like them close by, so they can knock off a slice whenever they want."

Carole barely heard; she was having a hard time concentrating on anything but Leon's fat dick swaying between his legs. It appeared to be about an 8-incher, about the same length as her husband, but it was considerably fatter.

"Anyway," Leon continued. "You'll have a very nice office upstairs, where you can fuck to your heart's content, but before you leave this office, you're going to do something for me. The Bournes won't let me fuck you, but they said you could suck me off, so that's what I want. I want to feel those luscious lips around my cock, and you'd better make it good, or I might just report to the Bournes that you are uncooperative and that they should just send you off to jail."

Leon's words made Carole wonder if everybody in the building was somehow deranged, but she didn't have time to ponder the question as Leon walked up to her and kissed her roughly. He was an average sized man, just under six feet, but stocky. After giving the inside of her mouth a good workout with his tongue, he walked around her slowly, running his hands all over her body. In spite of her disgust with this pig, her body shivered with the first awakenings of her lust at his touch. Leon ran his hands lightly over her hips, over her butt, then he ran a hand under her skirt to feel her rapidly moistening crack.

"You like this, don't you," he said with a smirk. "This wet pussy tells me you're gonna like being our whore."

Carole felt her eyes water at this characterization of herself, but it was true. She was going to be their whore and there wasn't anything she could do about it now. She'd committed herself to this course, and all she could do was hope against hope that it didn't ruin her life. Leon walked slowly back around until he was facing her again, held his dick out and commanded Carole to get after it.

So it begins, she thought, as she fell quickly to her knees. Carole felt her short skirt ride up her thighs as she took Leon's cock in both hands and licked the underside vigorously, then worked her lips and tongue up the shaft. She sawed his cock between her lips, curling her tongue around the shaft as she worked it. When she had Leon at full-staff, she opened her mouth wide and pushed the fat mushroom head past her lips and into her mouth.

She quickly worked half of his length in her mouth and began to pump her mouth over his cock, getting her mouth used to his size. He wasn't nearly as long as the Bournes, but Leon may have been fatter. Her pussy could tell her that from the way it was drooling.

It took some work, but she finally worked all of his length deep in her throat, using the techniques she'd been shown the previous day. She couldn't deep throat him for very long at a time, but when she did, it sent shivers up and down the accounting manager's spine. She throated him for a few strokes, then, when she began to run out of air, she ran her lips and tongue around the shaft lasciviously. Occasionally, she'd vary the angle, and she felt her cheeks bulge as he pushed his dick between her lips.

"Oooh, you're good; you're very good," Leon said with a breathless expression. "I can see why they wanted you."

Carole looked up at Leon with a look that was equal parts distaste and excitement as she continued to suck enthusiastically on his cock. Somehow, she was getting a rush from this. Here she was, she thought, a supposedly happily married woman sucking off her boss. It was like something from a porn movie, only this was real life.

Leon twisted his hands in Carole's dark, silky hair, regulating the speed and depth of her sucking. Carole worked frantically to keep up, feeling his hard cock pulsing with need. He was getting close, she could tell. He was starting to use his hips to drive his cock back and forth in Carole's hot, sucking mouth.

"You know what I'm gonna do?" Leon said with a leer. "I'm gonna shoot my cum all over your pretty little face. I've got two weeks worth of spunk built up, and I'm gonna hose you down with it. How do you like that?"

Carole was in a sudden panic at Leon's words. She'd never taken a facial before, indeed, she'd always thought the idea repulsive. She tried to keep her lips clamped on Leon's cock, so he'd at least shoot in her mouth where she could keep herself reasonably clean. Leon dramatically picked up the pace of his thrusts, giving her long strokes in and out of her throat. He could feel a massive orgasm building in his balls, but he did his best to hold it off for as long as he could.