Discovering Hannah's Secret

Story Info
An eventful day in work & a colleagues fetish.
4.4k words
4.46
45.5k
16

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 01/11/2012
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Annoyed, no annoyed wasn't the right word -- fuming, better but still not enough -- totally bloody pissed off, now that sums up exactly how I felt when my general manager finished giving me the good news of what I was due to be doing for the rest of the week in work.

I had turned up for work as usual on Wednesday morning expecting a day much like any other. I work for a large country stores outlet in the heart of the Devon countryside as a gunsmith. It may seem an unusual occupation but as a farmers' son I had been around shotguns and air rifles ever since I could remember and the careers officer at school arranged an apprenticeship in a gun shop when I left at 16. I spent the next 10 years learning and mastering my craft until our little shop was bought out by a major chain of country stores and I was employed in their gun room as their in-house gunsmith.

Gordon was sat in front of me and had just finished explaining how Ivan, our lorry driver, had broken his ankle the previous evening slipping from his cab in our yard after the days deliveries. He continued to ramble on about how there were no agency drivers available this week due to it being August and the middle of the holiday season, how store deliveries were of paramount importance for a profitable business, how several of the 40 shop employees could drive our 3 pickups for small deliveries but no one had a Heavy Goods Vehicle licence for the 26 tonner -- no one that is except me!

The bombshell! Of course! I had never made any secret of the fact that I held a Class 1 lorry licence, I had passed my lorry test as soon as I was old enough just to help dad out around the farm, it went together with the tractor, forklift, telehandler and cherry picker licences I also held -- to be fair there wasn't a vehicle I could think of that I didn't have a licence for.

And that was it. Gordon said he had already spoken to Matthew -- the manager of the gun room -- who had confirmed he could handle things whilst I took over the delivery driving for the remainder of the week. That was a laugh, I had a cabinet full of work pending, none of which he was qualified to deal with or even remotely competent to look at but he had assured Gordon he was going to placate the customers and Gordon had bought it.

I couldn't get out of it so decided to make the best of a bad lot. Whilst Gordon arranged for the yard lads to load the lorry I headed to our workwear department for a change of clothes. The store staff wore a corporate 'uniform' of pale blue polo shirts and cargo trousers, but in the gun room the clients expected much more of a "country house gent" feel so I was in my usual outfit of a tweed jacket, tattersal shirt, dark brown corduroy trousers and oxblood brogues. I grabbed myself a pair of steel toecap boots as well as black cargo trousers & black polo shirt too as well as gloves, high visibility waistcoat & jacket (I was now just another one of the pod people) and booked it to the company account before making my way around to the yard.

The warehouse guys had loaded three orders comprising 12 pallets of a wide range of feed, bedding and other products onto the stores' one year old Scania 94D 6x2 curtain sider. I grabbed the delivery notes from the yard manager, climbed into the cab and after inserting my digital tachograph card I put the first address into the sat-nav and headed out to a farm some 60 miles away. The sleeper cab of the truck was extremely comfortable and very well set out. Ivan had kept it meticulously tidy since he had been driving it.

The run to the first drop, a sheep farm, went off without a hitch and my mood began to lift as I was unloaded by tractor having just needed to open and close my sheets. Job number 2 was an easy 40 mile trip to a large stables complex where again a lad on a forklift unloaded their pallets whilst I drank a welcome cup of tea provided by a very cute young stable lass wearing a little strappy top and figure hugging jodhpurs -- an added bonus.

The route to job 3 was taking me back towards the store but in a meandering manner since I was now out in the sticks and negotiating often quite tight country lanes. I grabbed a proper truckers lunch at a roadside burger van -- a jumbo sausage and bacon roll with a big mug of tea -- and duly rested and refreshed I arrived at the cattle farm to be handed the keys to their shiny new telehandler and asked to unload myself & pop the full pallets into one of their barns. The day was honestly getting better and better and I was thoroughly enjoying the variety of people I was meeting as well as the conversation, cups of tea & warm August weather.

I was back to the store by 2.30pm and figured that was it for the day but the yard manager handed me one more delivery note explaining this was a drop that had to be done today but was only 10 miles away. Just 3 pallets went on the wagon as I tried to get the sat-nav to give me directions but it kept rejecting the address. With no map book in the cab I headed into the store to see who had taken the order and if they could direct me.

It was then that the day took another major downturn as I found it was Gordon's second-in-command who was responsible for the order. Why did it have to be Hannah, the store assistant-general manager, who I had to speak to! It was universally accepted that although she had only been in position for 6 months she was an utter and complete ball-breaker -- there was not a single member of staff who had failed to receive a bollocking for some perceived transgression or other. When she had tried it with me I had given just as good as I got since it had been yet another Malcolm cock-up I was getting grief for.

The thing is though, if she did not have such a disagreeable temperament and rotten attitude every bloke in the place would be trying to spend as much time as they could around her rather than studiously avoiding her because she was gorgeous, not just gorgeous but Playboy or FHM centrefold gorgeous.

She was around 5'7" tall with long slender legs, narrow hips and a tight little horse riders bum, all of which were always perfectly displayed in skin tight jeans or jodhpurs tucked into calf hugging riding boots. She too wore a corporate polo shirt but it seemed a size too small accentuating her tiny waist and incredible breasts -- all of us lads in work played the "guess the breasts" game, not terribly PC but a good laugh, and the consensus was that Hannah came in at an impressive 36C or D of firm love pillows but no one had even remotely come close to finding out for certain. She kept her blonde hair pulled back into a pony-tail that hung past her shoulders but her attractive lightly freckled face with its baby blue eyes was spoiled by a permanent frown.

I reached her office door, took a deep breath and entered to find her on the phone so I popped back out until she summoned me in. There was no chance to fine-tune my bust assessment today as she was wearing a sleeveless gillet over her polo shirt. Unsurprisingly her attitude was abrupt & aggressive as usual, firstly over the fact that Ivan had the nerve to break an ankle (maybe he should have asked permission first?) and then that I could not find the address on sat-nav. It turned out that it was her stables the order was heading for and Ivan had a gate key -- disappointment number 2 for Hannah there then because if he did he had not left it with the lorry keys.

She must have a spare key, I said, and she told me she did but had no intention of letting me risk losing it -- this was rapidly turning into me walking out of the office and going back to my workshop when out of the blue she announced she would come with me and open up the gate herself. This was such a bad idea as 2 minutes in the office with her had me wound up like a top and now she was saying we would be in each others' company for at least the next 2 hours -- one of us might not make it back alive!

With that all decided I simply kept my mouth shut and headed back to the lorry and Hannah was not far behind. Apart from the directions I needed to get to the stables there was no other conversation. It wasn't that I didn't try but it was like getting blood from a stone so I gave up and concentrated on getting the job over and done with. No wonder the sat-nav couldn't find the place since it was buried in the middle of a woodland, miles off any sort of decent road but we arrived after about 25 minutes.

Hannah jumped down from the cab to open the gate, ushering me through impatiently before immediately locking the gate behind us. I then followed her up the winding tree-lined lane to the stable yard, all the time admiring the way her hips and ass swayed alluringly as she walked along the uneven track.

I jumped down and opened the sheet exposing the 3 pallets, one piled high with 20kg sacks of feed and two of sawdust bedding bales. I sliced the plastic wrap from the feed pallet, pulled the first one down and looked at Hannah for instructions as to where it was to go. Looking at me as if I were an idiot she pointed to a double door and told me it was the feed store and I was to put it all in there. I took the first bag in over my shoulder and stacked it with some identical bags then returned to the lorry. I was amazed to see Hannah sat back in the passenger seat of the cab fiddling with her mobile phone.

There was no way I was dragging 3 tonnes of her feed by hand into the store room while she sat on her backside and I yanked the door open to tell her just that. There was a short argument where I told her that she helped or I was straight back to the store -- she yelled I couldn't do that but when I went around to the drivers' side and turned the ignition key she backed down and grudgingly got out.

She might be annoying and disagreeable but she wasn't afraid of hard work, matching me bag for bag and bale for bale. We made short work of all three pallets getting warm quickly to the extent that Hannah shed the gillett giving me the opportunity to sneak the odd peek at her tremendous bust. As we got to the end of the last pallet the bales needed stacking on shelves accessed by clambering on straw bales -- as I walked in with the penultimate bale I was just in time to see the bale Hannah was standing on move suddenly, causing her to grab the shelf as her feet went in opposite directions leaving her dangling doing the splits.

The sudden movement was also accompanied by a loud tearing sound as the entire rear seam of Hannah's tight jeans tore wide open and I was left looking at her black underwear. Then I realised, her underwear wasn't just black it was gloss black, shiny gloss black -- bloody hell, she was wearing black latex panties. My dick jumped to attention as my brain processed this fact then Hannah yelled at me to stop standing there like an idiot and help her. I rushed over, hopped up a couple of bales to throw an arm around her waist before lifting her gently down to the floor level.

Rather than a thank you which would have been nice Hannah went hysterical and started yelling at me, calling me a pervert for standing there looking at her underwear rather than rushing to help her, before storming out of the feed store and into the building next door -- my temper flared and I followed just behind her shouting that it if anyone was the pervert it wasn't me for looking at her ass but rather her for having the rubber fetish.

We had come into the tack room, full of riding equipment, and Hannah reached out for something on a table and swung around toward me raising her hand. I just had time to duck my head away from the backhanded sweep of a riding crop but when she tried a second strike I stepped inside the swing to grab her wrist and managed to wrench the crop from her grasp. Hannah released the crop but, unbalanced, she stumbled and fell forward over the padded arched top of an empty saddle stand. Without thinking I brought the crop down sharply three times onto the luscious curve of her perfectly presented denim and rubber-clad ass.

I checked a fourth blow expecting screams of outrage and probably the risk of an assault accusation or charge but instead of screams I heard a low moaning gutteral groan of pleasure and a whispered "yes". Hannah turned her head to look me in the eyes, her own eyes filled with lust and desire and I knew she wanted me to go further. Whilst I had had a few partners over the years who liked sex to be a bit more assertive I was in new territory here but although I had seen my fair share of porn containing BDSM scenes I only had a vague idea of where this might go.

Stepping closer to the prostrate Hannah I placed my left palm firmly on the centre of her back to hold her down against the saddle stand and recommenced my assault on her ass. The riding crop was light in my hand being only 2 feet long and made of springy fibreglass bound with leather and topped off with a brass knob on the handle end and a broad soft leather loop on the other. With two layers between the whip and her skin I decided I could be quite vigorous in my spanking efforts and raising my arm high I brought it down with a resounding crack on the dead centre of her tight young cheeks eliciting a sharp intake of breath and a furious bucking of her hips. I laid on a quick succession of half a dozen similar strokes concentrating on a narrow band of Hannah's young ass to get it good and hot - when I paused she was furiously trying to grind her groin against the padded wood of the saddle stand to bring herself off without success.

I needed both hands to continue what I had in mind and having noticed a lot of useful items scattered around the tack room I quickly grabbed a 4" wide neoprene-rubber girth band and a couple of soft nylon lead ropes from their wall hooks. On either end of the stand were shaped wooden blocks that acted as bridle racks so I quickly snapped the brass clip of a lead rope onto the heavy stainless steel D-shaped buckle of the girth strap and wound the rope around one bridle rack -- I grasped the hem of Hannah's polo shirt and raised it to expose a band of bare flesh as wide as the girth before pulling the strap tightly across her back, clipping on the other rope and tying it firmly to the second bridle rack.

The cold grippy rubber pressing tightly on Hannah's bare skin had suddenly refocused her attention and she tried to push against it with no success -- whilst she was testing this constraint I picked up a pair of neoprene brush boots and another pair of lead ropes. The brush boots were simple, 8" long neoprene cuffs with 3 wide Velcro tabs designed to protect the bottom of horses legs when training but I opened one up, wrapped it around Hannah's right wrist and fastened it securely, trapping the looped end of the rope within it. I swiftly repeated the process with her left wrist and gathering the ropes up I moved toward the nearest wall before feeding each loose end through one of two handy ring bolts, pulling the ropes taught and tying them off securely.

This had the effect of drawing Hannah's torso up perpendicular to the saddle stand -- she was now like a letter 'L' with her arms and upper body outstretched parallel with the floor, her waist firmly secured and her legs dangling down with her toes just touching the ground. Trussed in this manner she could no longer try to bring herself to orgasm and was entirely dependant on me for any form of sexual release.

In order to feed her rubber fetish further I moved over to a nearby table to get something I had just noticed. I called Hannah's name softly and she turned her head to look at me as I removed from a small box a pair of extra-large clear latex surgical gloves and eased them slowly and carefully onto my hands. For the first time since I had met her I saw a smile on her face as she began to imagine what I might be going to do next.

I took a moment to savour the spectacle of the trussed woman before me -- her bottom sticking out proudly was exquisite but more so was the top half of her body. Her polo shirt was trapped between her hips and the top of the saddle stand so with her arms now held outstretched the material was tight against her flat stomach and beautiful breasts. Even more exciting was the sight of her nipples -- obviously Hannah was aroused by what was happening and this was making her nipples erect but it was the extent of their erectness that intrigued me as they weren't merely bumps but rather pencil thick points over half an inch long.

I reclaimed the crop from the table and tucked into my back pocket as I returned to the side of the saddle stand. I felt it was time to tease her and build her excitement level. With my latex covered hands I began to softly stroke and caress her bare forearms from the edge of her rubber bound wrists to under the sleeves of her polo shirt immediately causing little goosebumps to appear on her skin. Hannah's smile had broadened considerably and I felt comfortable continuing so I reached down to the girth strap, placed my palms widely spread underneath the material onto her bare back and slid them up her back, past her shoulders, over her head and down her arms leaving the polo shirt hanging on the lead ropes and Hannah's naked skin exposed to the air.

Finally I could see why her breasts looked so magnificent and her nipples so incredibly shaped -- as well as latex panties Hannah had on a sculpted latex rubber bra with a small hole in the centre of each cup through which her ultra-aroused nipples were forced into rock-hard points.

Now I began to run the latex clad tips of my fingers all over the freckled creamy skin of Hannah's back and sides eliciting gasps of pleasure before dropping to my knees and allowing my right hand to roam over her taught stomach muscles whilst I used my left to roll and tug her super sensitive nipples. It only took a minute or so of this stimulation before Hannah was breathing in ragged gasps and her stomach muscles were twitching and contracting as she writhed against her bonds.

I maintained my grip on her left nipple as I raised myself to one knee and withdrew the crop from my pocket, held it by the shaft and brought the brass knob to bear on the front seam of her jeans between her spread legs. Without hesitation I began to grind the solid rounded tip hard against the area where her clitoris would be and Hannah's moans turned to screams of pleasure as sensory overload kicked in and she succumbed to one almighty orgasm then immediately another as I continued unremittingly to rub that spot.

I paused to regain my balance during her wild gyrations as I found myself falling over in my slightly awkward position and as I did so Hannah cried out to me "I want you inside me, I need you inside me now! Please!"

I didn't need asking twice as I had been rock hard ever since I first glimpsed those amazing panties and my erection was almost painful in its intensity. I stood up, stepped back slightly so Hannah could see me clearly and removed the latex gloves. A momentary look of disappointment crossed her face but I needed bare hands to take out my wallet, extract a square foil package before undoing my trousers dropping them & my boxers to free my straining erection. I tore the foil packet open to get to the condom, which I rolled slowly over the circumcised head of my cock and down my throbbing shaft.

Hannah was once again smiling in anticipation as I donned a fresh pair of latex gloves and walked back behind her to reach around her waist and flick open the fastener on the waistband of her jeans before unzipping them and drawing them down quickly until they rested mid-calf atop her boots. The entire front and inside thighs of the denim was dark and sodden from Hannah's juices but I couldn't understand how when she was wearing that incredibly erotic all-encompassing tight rubber lingerie.

It only took a moments' inspection to establish how -- the panties were in fact crotchless and pushing invitingly through the gap framed by wisps of fine blonde curly hair were her engorged crimson labia, glossy and drenched in her fluids from where she must have squirted when she climaxed the first time.

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