Hooked

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.