Freebie Ch. 01

"Can you make sure she's dressed up to the nines? I know she's a stunner in any clothes, but I've hyped her up to be a real bombshell. You know the kind of thing, low top, high hemline, and lots of naked leg. Definitely no tights (panty hose)."

Then as Gerry grovellingly replied,

"Yes Mr Spencer, I know just the dress."

Graham gave me a look as if to say,

'That's you sorted'.

With that Graham left and as soon as the door was closed behind him; Gerry took hold of me and gave me a hug.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't want to bring him home with me. And I hate myself for asking you to do this, but there is no other way of keeping me from prison."

"Wouldn't it be worth going to a solicitor? Maybe it isn't as bad as he says."

"That would cost money. And anyway, we haven't got time. And even if a solicitor said it wasn't as bad as Mr Spencer is making out, I'd still be certain to loose my job, and then be black listed. So we'd be in real trouble with the mortgage. Please do this for me, I promise I'll make it up to you."

"How?"

"I don't know. But I'll do what ever you want."

I resigned myself to what was now becoming my inevitable fate,

"Oh well, I suppose if I've got to go out to somewhere posh, I'd better go and try to make myself look respectable."

He took hold again and gave me a kiss,

"That's my girl."

And then as he gave me a wicked grin,

"Not too respectable. You heard what Mr Spencer said. Lots of leg and tits on show. Wear that little black dress you got for my sister's wedding."

The dress he referred to was low cut at the top, high cut hem, thin silky material, held with two thin strings across the shoulders. It couldn't be worn with a bra, and with the thin material, even normal panties showed through; so a thong was the best option. But not a thong as skimpy as the one I've already been talking about.

"Are you sure you want me to go out with two strangers, wearing that dress?"

"Yes. You heard him, I think the more you show the better he'll like it."

"And you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Last time I wore it you moaned at me for weeks. If I remember rightly, the phrase you used was, 'You looked like a slut'. Is that what you want? The more I show, the better you'll like it?"

"Well no not usually. But on this occasion, it's what he wants."

I stomped up to our bedroom, and I guess I was angry on two scores. One Graham had won. And second, Gerry seemed not to care how much of me his boss got to see. As I moved the dresses in my wardrobe looking for the dress Gerry had asked me to wear, right next to it was another dress, one I'd bought at the same time as the black one. Both of these dresses were sexy, and I'd bought them whilst in a kind of strop. It was over a remark his sister had made to one of her friends while we were out on her hen night. We were all in the ladies, they were both busy touching up their makeup in front of the mirrors; but what they didn't know; was that I was in one of the cubicles behind them, and I overheard every word.

"Gerry's wife. She's a jumped up little cow. If she hadn't got her hooks into our Gerry, she'd still be sucking cocks on that council house estate."

She obviously didn't know I'd overheard her, and I didn't tell Gerry what I'd heard. So I just thought, 'Right; I'll show you'. I went shopping, and bought the two most risky outfits I could find. I didn't show Gerry, and made sure I delayed being ready to go to her wedding until the last second. Even I'd backed out of the second choice dress, a little red number. But by the time I came down wearing the black dress, Gerry was waiting in the taxi. He about blew a fuse, but it was too late to tell me to go back and get changed. The dress had the desired effect; all male eyes were on me, and his sister Audrey was fuming.

But now seeing the red dress, I lifted it off the hanger and held it up against myself. That was it if he wanted me to show flesh, I'd show flesh. This dress, like the black one, was thin silky material, but the cut was supposed to represent a dress made of small scraps of odd shaped cloth. So both the bust line and hem were uneven. Resulting in the nipple on one breast being precariously close to exposure with every movement made. Whilst the hem had triangular pieces missing, so if viewed from certain angles you would be allowed a glimpse of my crotch from either front or back. There were also pieces in the bodice missing, revealing the lower part of one breast, and my belly button. In the back of my mind, apart from annoying Gerry, I hoped he'd again blow his top, and order me to put something more decent on.

Once I'd done my hair and makeup, I slipped the red dress on. I was just selecting some panties, when I had a thought. The infamous little thong! I'd hidden it, of all places, in my jewellery box; amongst my other cheap trash. Not one piece was worth over a tenner (£10); not that that's got anything to do with my story. Back to the point, I placed the slip of material on my pussy, and tied the ribbons. Then I opened my legs and held a mirror down there. A few pulls to the back and over to the left a bit, and that was it. If Gerry wanted slutty, I'd give him slutty with a vengeance.

I walked out to the top of the stairs, and with one leg straight, I then turned the other so my foot and knee were pointing slightly outwards. And then I called down,

"Gerry."

I waited about ten seconds, and was about to call again, when the hall light turned on. About two seconds later Gerry appeared at the foot of the stairs with a pint glass of beer in his hand. It was a little like a cartoon character. He looked up, and then his eyes almost popped out of his head. But even if he did retain his eyes, he didn't retain the mouthful of beer he'd just taken; as he coughed and spluttered to get some words out, he sprayed the contents of his mouth.

He put down his glass, and began to scramble up the stairs. As his head got level with my knee height, he stopped, and stared. And he stared some more. He was totally mesmerised, and I'm sure he was there like a statue for at least a minute. In the end I broke his trance by putting my hand on his forehead and as I tilted his head back I asked,

"Well; is that showing enough flesh for your Mr Spencer?"

"My god Mary. You look amazing!"

"Where on earth did you get that dress?"

"And those knickers. My god they look like the ones in that catalogue."

"Well, is this how you want me to be dressed when your Mr Spencer arrives?"

I was feeling quite smug, thinking the effect I'd had on him would be certain to result in him telling me to go back and put something less revealing on. But he just said,

"Fucking hell yes. He'll be knocked out when he sees you like that."

I wanted to go back to my room and at the very least put the black dress on, but when I attempted to suggest that,

"Are you sure this isn't going too far, I've got plenty of time to put the black one on."

All I got was him grabbing my wrist and as he began to pull me down the stairs,

"No way. That one is perfect. His Mr Harris will be gob smacked. I know I am."

Even when he'd got me down stairs, he sat me back on the sofa, knelt on the floor in front of me and lifted my legs up onto his shoulders while he sat there ogling my crotch. In fact he was still knelt there when we heard the door knocker,

"KNOCK KNOCK."

He jumped to his feet and almost ran to the door. He returned seconds later followed by Graham. I had already stood up, not wanting Graham and Peter to get the view of my crotch afforded by my sitting position. Why I bothered I don't know, because even I knew that some time during the evening, both of them would be bound to get an eyeful. As Graham followed Gerry into the room Gerry said proudly,

"There you are Mr Spencer. Is that the kind of dress you wanted?"

"Well my dear. It looks like your husband knows how to pick your clothes for you."

Gerry again was bursting with pride as he said,

"No Mr Spencer, it wasn't me who chose it. She selected that all by herself."

"And I'm glad to see no tights."

"Never mind no tights. Come on Mary, lift your foot up onto the chair and spread your knees so Mr Spencer can see those knickers."

As I say I'd got up from the sofa, but as I'd moved towards the door, I was stood alongside a dining room chair. And so that meant the seat base on the chair Gerry was asking me to lift my foot up to was a good eighteen inches high.

"No Gerry. I don't think Mr Spencer would want to see me do such a rude thing as that."

"Come come Mary. They can't be that bad. After all, we are going to talk about you modelling our naughty knickers. And while we're about it, call me Graham, Mr Spencer sounds so formal."

I stood there not wanting to lift my leg, but Gerry gave me a nasty look and then said,

"Come on Mary. You chose to wear them."

I thought fuck him, I'll show his fucking boss, what do I care. So I lifted my foot up and plonked it on the seat of the chair, and then spread my knee open. Gerry stooped down, and then reached across, not touching Graham, but signalling to him to stoop close and have a look.

"Well done Gerry lad. She's got a cracking little snatch. I bet old Peter Harris's mouth will be dripping when he claps eyes on that. By the way, you do realise he'll probably want to see her try one or two of his samples on?"

He wasn't asking me, he was talking directly to Gerry, who answered for me,

"Yes. But that's alright. Mary won't mind,"

Then looking up to my face,

"Will you?"

"No dear. If that's what you want."

"And the other thing is, this meeting with Peter, it won't be like the actual modelling. There won't be a dresser or bodyguard."

"Well they'll only be you and him there, so she won't need that kind of thing."

"And while we're on the ticklish stuff. I've got a single hotel room for the interview, but it hasn't got on-suite, so she'll have to undress in front of us, you won't mind that will you?"

"Of course not. I'm sure we can trust you."

"Good lad. We'll be off now, but I want to ask you just one more favour."

"Ask away Mr Spencer."

"Just try to reassure her that it's ok with you for her to let go. Let her know she's allowed to be sexy. You know the kind of thing, while she's changing, it wouldn't hurt for her to use that little snatch to clinch the deal. A bit of flashing and maybe accidentally bumping it into contact with Peter's hand could work wonders."

By now both of them had finished looking at my crotch, and were standing right next to me. So while he might have been talking to Gerry, it was as if he was trying to show me I didn't have any say in the matter. Then Gerry gave me his pitiful look.

"Please, just for me."

"What you want me to flash it and then put it in his crony's hand?"

"It's only this once, just to get him to accept Mr Spencer's proposal."

I looked at Graham and said,

"Well it looks like you've got yourself a whore for the night."

"Mary! There was no need for that. I'm sorry Mr Spencer; she didn't mean anything by it."

"No problem lad. If your little lady wants to play the whore, I'm sure we can show her what the job entails."

The look on Gerry's face was classic. In some ways it was poetic justice, and just seeing that frightened expression was payback for his toadying to Graham. Then Graham said,

"Don't look so worried lad. We'll bring her back in one piece, I'm sure her snatch will be able to cope with anything Peter and I have got in our trousers."

With that Graham's arm went around my back and settled on my bottom (on the outside of my dress), he then whisked me out of the house and down to the waiting car. The car was in fact a big stretched limo, and as he opened the door to the back, Peter was already seated inside. As I ducked my head to step inside, Graham slipped one hand up under the back of my skirt, and his fingers slid into contact with the lips of my pussy. As if this wasn't bad enough; before I had chance to attempt to pull myself off his hand by stepping quickly into the car; his other hand hooked over my shoulder, and he pulled, attempting to turn my head around. As he did so asking,

"Aren't you going to give hubby a kiss before you go?"

Gerry had followed us down the path to the car and was stood just slightly behind and to one side of Graham. So as I turned my shoulder, Gerry lent forwards, and kissed me. It was obvious he must have been able to see where Graham had his other hand. Then as Graham loosed my shoulder, I stepped into the car and off his fingers. But as I looked back towards Gerry, Graham was shaking his hand (now wet with my pussy juices),

"Don't worry lad. She'll be in safe hands with us."

And as he released Gerry's hand, I saw Gerry looking at his palm, and he even touched it with the fingers from his other hand; as if to be sure the sticky substance was what he had suspected.

I'd sat myself on the seat across the back of the car, alongside Peter, and as soon as Graham climbed in, he sat at the other side of me. As he reached out and pulled the door shut, the car began to move. In the back of this limo it was very spacious, but although there were other seats that could have been used, we three sat across the back seat together. Graham looked straight past me and asked,

"What do you say now Pete."

"I don't know how you do it. I was convinced this afternoon that she wouldn't come across."

"Well she's just told her hubby she's gonna be our whore for the night. So I guess that means you'll get another stab at that little snatch you've been raving about."

I'd just sat there in between them saying nothing. Then Graham looked at me,

"No comments from the little lady?"

"Don't keep teasing her. Come on Mary. Don't let him get to you. Just look on this as a kind of adventure or fantasy. Most of you girls have fantasies where you get to do things that as a respectable married woman you wouldn't do. Well now's your shot. What ever we do, I promise it won't be forced on you. Like earlier. We didn't force you, we maybe tricked you. Or even misled you. But you fucked, and at the time you loved it. It was only afterwards when you felt guilty that you got upset. Well your hubby knows you're with us, and he knows what for. So just let yourself have fun. If you want a few drinks first to loosen you up, that's ok. Or maybe you want to be wined-and-dined in a high class restaurant. The choice is yours. Come on now; let's see just a little smile to show we're not enemies."

I looked at him, and he did look genuine. Also a lot of what he said made sense. So even if somewhat begrudgingly, I did manage a little smile. And then I said,

"I think I would like that little drink you mentioned."

Graham lent towards a cabinet and brought out a big champagne bucket with a bottle already being chilled.

"Bubbly ok?"

"Yes, I guess so."

Then Peter said,

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do, and I have no problem with how much you drink. But if you're not used to that stuff, you'll take my advice and just stick to one or two glasses. If you want something to take the edge off your nerves, which won't make you sick or numb your senses, then just slip one of these in your first drink."

He was holding a little innocent looking yellow tablet.

"No thanks I don't do drugs."

"This won't get you high, and taking one tablet just this once won't get you hooked. But like I said, it will help you overcome your worries and shyness, without taking away any of the pleasures of the sex. If you try to do that with champers, then even if you don't throw-up, the sex will be just a blur."

I swallowed a mouthful from the glass Graham had just handed me, and after a mild coughing fit I replied,

"Maybe that's the effect I'm trying to achieve."

"Please Mary. Don't be like that. This could all be something you could look back on as a wonderful memory."

I took another swig, but this time without the cough afterwards,

"Wonderful? Getting raped by two strangers who my husband is in cahoots with."

"Honestly Pete, I don't know why you're bothering to make it easy for her. Her old mans given us the ok to fuck her. And she knows if she kicks up a fuss, I can get him sent down. So if she wants to get drunk and miss the fun, that'll just make it all the simpler for us to do what ever we want to her."

"Christ Graham, sometimes I don't know why I get involved with you. That kind of attitude makes me sick. I sometimes think you get more pleasure from the control thing than you do from the sex."

"I guess I do. You can get a fuck any day of the week for a few pounds. But when I've got a nice girl like this one who doesn't want to fuck, it makes it all the better knowing I can belittle her and make her my slave."

Peter looked into my eyes, and said quietly to me,

"Don't let him beat you. That's all you'll achieve by getting drunk. Stay sober, and then take this little tablet to help you relax. That way you'll be in control, and I promise you won't get forced into anything."

I didn't reply, but I held my almost empty glass out towards him. Peter took the tablet from his pocket, and dropped it into my glass,

"Ok Graham; fill her glass."

Then he again looked into my eyes,

"And make this your last."

"Yes master."

I said sarcastically. Then as Graham picked up on my meaning, he looked at Peter and said,

"Now who's the control freak giving orders?"

Just at that moment the car stopped and the driver's voice came through the speaker system.

"Island Hotel. Do you want me to pull up to the front foyer?"

"Graham lent across to a little grill on his side of the car, obviously the microphone,

"Right up to the front doors."

Then as he turned and looked back towards Peter and I,

"I want to see how she handles being in the bright lights in public."

Peter again came to my defence,

"You don't have to do this. If you want us to use the side entrance, we can take you straight up to our room without anybody seeing you."

Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to put myself on show, but it was like Peter had said earlier, and I felt if I chose to parade myself in this dress, then I would be lessening Graham's hold on me. I downed the last of the drink in my glass; complete with the now dissolved little yellow tablet, and then said,

"Come on then big boy. Let's see who feels the more embarrassed?"

Graham climbed out and I followed him, Peter then stepped out alongside me.

Graham stood to one side and using his open palm said as he ushered me forwards,

"Go on then, I'll walk a few paces behind you."

I gritted my teeth (metaphorically) and began to walk towards the big revolving doors. I hadn't taken the first step before I felt Peter's arm slipping around my back, and settling across my shoulder.

"Come on my dear. I think you look stunning, and I'm proud to have you on my arm."

I wanted to get one over on Graham, if only in a small way, and I guess you might think this was a stupid way to do it. But at the time I felt it was something that would show Graham he wasn't in control of my actions. But I'm not sure whether I'd have gone through with it without Peter's help. As it was, we waltzed into that hotel as though we owned it, and every eye was focused my way. Peter just guided me into the centre of the foyer, and a little of his air of superiority, must have rubbed off on me. Because as we stood there with what must have been more than twenty people all staring my way, he asked,

"Straight to our room or would you like to dine first?"

"Well I haven't eaten yet."

Then contradicting my reply, Graham said,

"To the room, we can always get something sent up."

But I ignored his words, and turned to Peter and said,

"I'd love to be dined, even if I take your advice, and forget about the wine."