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From: anakha@clara.net (anakha)
Subject: Best Of The Net: REPOST - NEW Mortgage 3/10 (nc, m/f, ff, bd)
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***************************************************************************
Hi,

I have been downloading stuff from Usenet for some time and haven't
really been putting an awful lot back so I decided it was time to
repost the stuff I have.

There are a number of reasons for this. Firstly it is for those who
have only started using Usenet since the stories I have were
originally posted, secondly for those who may simply have missed them
first time round and lastly my contribution to fighting the ever
increasing spam which now saturates all of the sex newsgroups.

The vast majority of the stories I post will be plain bondage
orientated with a few subfem & femdom ones thrown in. Anything a
little stronger in terms of s&m isn't really my scene so there won't
be much like that. Also please note I am NOT the author of any of the
stories so the copyright notices of ALL of the original authors still
apply. (Also there is nothing that I can see from the original post
which says I can't repost this story. If you are the author and you do
NOT want it reposted then I suggest you let me, & everyone else,
know).

I hope you enjoy whatever I do post.

Bye for now. 

Anakha
http://home.clara.net/anakha/index.html
****************************************************************************
Subject: NEW Mortgage 3/10 (nc, m/f, ff, bd)
From: an225040@anon.penet.fi (marlissa)
Date: Fri, 21 Jul 1995 17:50:30 UTC
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

The following story contains adult material.  If below the age of 18,
go outside, get some fresh air and do something healthy (g).

If you ARE 18, then  you should know the following story is about a
young woman who is forced into non-consensual sex, public humiliation,
and b&d, in both m/f and f/f situations.  Both the characters and
occurrences in this fiction are completely fictitious.

The Mortgage- PART THREE

"What's going on next door, hon?  What are they building?" Amy asked,
setting a bag of precious groceries down on the table.  She was
referring to the construction going on  in the big corner lot next
door.  The air was filled with the sounds of construction-- men and
heavy equipment shaping the earth.

Her husband shrugged.  "How should I know?" he responded angrily.
"Despite what you think, I'm not here all day."

It was starting already.  She hadn't been home two minutes.  "Just
thought there might be a job opportunity, that's all.  How did your
search go today?"

Wendell threw the paper across the room angrily.  "There's nothing out
there-- nothing!"

Amy rubbed his back.  "Honey, it's just going to take a while-- that's
all!  Don't get so down on yourself.  Really, it's all right!"  He was
getting so depressed these days.  It broke her heart to see him like
this-- his powerful frame bent over in frustration and shame.

His eyes glared at her.  "Everywhere I go, I get the same thing--
'sorry, no openings.'  No construction jobs, nothing."  He was
seething mad, but she didn't rise to the bait.  It wasn't Amy he was
mad at-- it was himself.

"What about the list of contacts Bob Baines gave me to give you?  Have
you tried them all?"

Wendell ran a huge hand through his brown hair nervously. "No-- I mean
yes I tried them all. It was nice of him to offer to help but none of
the companies had work. Could you get me a beer?"

Amy scurried to the fridge, bringing him back a cold one.  She wanted
to say something-- he was putting on weight by drinking so much-- but
she held her tongue. "Here you go honey.  Just go sit down and watch
the news.  I'll have dinner ready in a few minutes, o.k.?"  Wendell
clambered up and switched on the television.

As she prepared a meatloaf, Amy looked at the calendar hanging on the
kitchen wall. Wendell had been out of work for four months to the day.
Dully, she thought about how hard life had become since getting
married.  She was so tired all the time now, what with working at the
bank AND cleaning the small house AND making dinner.  And latter when
they went to bed, Wendell would want to make love to her-- and she
would have to say no.  She sighed.  They hadn't made love in weeks,
practically since she had started temping at the bank.  She never had
the energy these days and knew it was frustrating him to no end.
Soon.  He'll get a job soon, she thought hopefully.

****************

Amy felt uncomfortable as she escorted the three strange men to Bob's
office.  They were unlike the typical loan applicants, that was for
sure.  True, they wore expensive suits and were thoroughly polite (as
much as the language difference made that possible), but there was an
edge to them that made her skin crawl, a shark-like gleam in their
eyes as they scanned the bank offices-- and her.  She knew they were
checking out her figure as she led them down the hallway.  All
strange, but Amy reminded herself,  you didn't often have three South
American businessmen doing business in Bentson County.  She could feel
their eyes on her ass as she knocked on Bob's door.  

"Your guests are here."  She opened the door and Bob greeted them in
fluent Spanish. Amy left the group, glad to be done with them,  as Bob
shut the door firmly.  Bob was amazing. She had had no idea he was so
well-traveled and could speak Spanish so well. You just never knew all
a person's little secrets, she thought.

As she attended to her filing, she could hear raised voices from time
to time behind the great oak door.  Spanish words filled with anger,
then calm, then pleased.  Must be a big deal!  An hour later, Bob
asked her to come in.

"Amy, we need your help.  These gentlemen," he nodded toward the slick
young operators, "are with the Hemispheric Economic Development
Commission and represent some very major business interests.  Have you
heard of NAFTA?  Yes, well it has opened the way between institutions
like First Metropolitan and their organization to work together in
each of our respective communities.  These gentlemen are interested in
working with us to ensure their assets are invested widely in all
kinds of local businesses here in Bentson County."

Amy smiled and nodded at the men.  To her disgust, they openly leered
at her.  One stared right at her chest and laughed, saying something
in Spanish to the other two.  They all then laughed.  Amy blushed.

"That's great Bob.  Can I go now?"  These guys gave her the creeps!

Bob nodded.  "In a minute.  We just need you to witness the
agreement."  He pushed a stack of papers toward her, all legalese and
written in incomprehensible bank English. 

She picked up a pen, trying not to have her back face the three South
Americans.

"Where should I sign?  There aren't any other signatures here."

"We'll do that after you sign your name. Sign here," Bob pointed out.
"And here. And here, and..." Amy's eyes were bleary twenty minutes
later after signing her name in dozens of places on documents that all
looked the same. As she signed the last one, she shook her hand in
relief.

"All set!  Can I go?"  She had to sign papers and documents on behalf
of Baines all day. It was a regular part of her job.  But this was
ridiculous!

The four men looked at her with wide smiles.  "Sure Amy, you can go.
Thanks for your help."

She left, happy to be done with that annoying chore.  She took a late
lunch and by the time she returned to the bank, the three men were
gone.

**************** 

I shouldn't be upset, Amy thought as she stormed out of Baine's
office.  He was right. She had just be reprimanded by her boss and the
thing was, he was absolutely correct. She SHOULD have been addressing
him more appropriately all along.  This was a place of business and
their relationship was that of boss and secretary, not two family
friends. Amy was lucky to have this job, even if it was a temp
position.  What was the big deal. Fine, from now on it would be just
like he said-- whenever she spoke to him, it would be 'Mr. Baines' or
'Sir.'  

**************

She had thought he'd be pleased when he saw her reading the banking
magazines on her lunch hour.  Since she was temping it was more out of
curiosity, but still she wanted  to make a good impression on Baines.
She wanted to show him she had initiative,  especially because of the
way things were working out.  

Things were changing somehow, getting more difficult for her.  Nothing
she did was quite right.  Though he remained calm and collected about
it, Amy knew she was disappointing him in some way.  The look in his
face was almost always one of strained tolerance, as if her
performance left much to be desired.

So the magazines.  But when he saw her reading them, he became
positively furious. "What are you doing?"

"J-just trying to learn more about the business, Sir!" she stammered,
confused.  He was reacting as if she was doing something very, very
wrong.

"You are a secretary, for God's sakes!  Stick to your Vogues and
Cosmos and leave the banking to those who understand it-- got me!"

She nodded her head, not a little hurt.  Later that day, she found an
apology note waiting for her.

"Amy,

Sorry I yelled at you, but you must understand that to do the best job
for me, you need only take direction and do what you are told.  In my
experience, reading just confuses a cute kid like you.  Stick to your
fashion magazines, o.k.?

Your Boss, 
Mr. Baines"

Underneath the note was the latest copy of Cosmopolitan magazine.

***************

"Try some.  I think you'll really like it."

Amy took the proffered piece of chewing gum politely.  She wasn't a
gum chewer-- in fact she despised girls would incessantly snapped and
chewed the stuff.  But Mr. Baines was trying to be nice.  She popped
it in her mouth, thanked her boss and went back to work.

As she typed up a memo, Amy couldn't help but enjoy the stuff.  It had
a strange taste though-- a taste she remembered but couldn't place.  A
half hour later she realized when she had first come across the taste.
It had been her honeymoon, a result of something she had done for
Wendell.  It was the first and only time since she had tasted it till
now, because she hadn't liked the taste that time.  But now she
couldn't get enough of it, sucking the gum dry with every chew.  The
gum tasted like sperm! 

As she submitted the memo for Baine's signature, she asked him about
the gum, careful not to mention the taste.

He smiled.  "I'm glad you like it.  I thought you would.  My business
partners, the gentlemen from South America, sent it to me for possible
marketing here in the States. 

Consider yourself a test subject!  You can't get it here, but I have
plenty of samples. Would you like another piece?"

She nodded gratefully, taking the wrapper off the stick.  As she did,
she looked at the wrapper.  In big red letters, she noted the gum's
name:  "Sexy-licious Chewing Gum." 

"Cute name," she said dryly.

Baines shrugged.  "It's foreign, Amy.  Probably a bad translation.
Start on my next memo, would you?"

Amy returned to her desk and began pounding on the keys, snapping her
gum without realizing it.  A half-hour later, she felt compelled to
ask Mr. Baines for another piece.  In spite of its salty taste, the
stuff was absolutely addictive!  She was secretly thrilled at the end
of the day when Baines rewarded her for a good day's work by giving
her a whole box of the stuff.

In Part Four, the last straw for Amy...


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