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Subject: Story: "Laid Aloft" (M/FF reluc.cons.) 1 of 2
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Hooked

Author: David Shaw (shaw_david@hotmail.com)

INTENDED FOR ADULTS ONLY
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There's a financial newspaper on my desk and it says that Georgie Kalvos is
dead. I'm half wishing he's doing a stint in hell and half hoping he's got
plenty of good looking women down there to keep him company - yes, and an
occasional bottle of ouzo to slake his thirst too. It's been many years since
I last saw him and if I'm going to remember him I'll remember him as he was.
A middle aged man with the smile of a boy, the build of a gorilla, the
manners of a courtier and the morals of a shark.

Talking of sharks, I wonder if Collette at her ranch in Nevada is remembering
Georgie and the first girl who ever turned a trick for her? For a long time I
resented Collette and Georgie because they made a fool out of me but if
Collette was here now I'd gladly share a toast with her to our Greek lover's
memory. Collette runs a brothel and I run a bank, and yet I think that
perhaps he was one of the few real man that either one of us has ever known.

Slowly, I rub my palms over my desk, thinking back to that other manager's
office, that other desk, the one that creaked underneath my weight as the
bars of sunlight leaking through the blinds fell onto the dollar bills jammed
into the tops of my bank-uniform nylons, the roughness of Georgie's hands
between my opened thighs and Collette's excited voice jeering at me: "Hey,
Yvonne, I think he wants to make a deposit in you!"

It was when I'd first joined the bank, as a teenage junior teller. It was a
time when all the world loved the Beatles, when computers were still out of
sight and out of mind, and when I was terribly excited about living away from
home for the first time. Not that the branch I'd started in was located
anywhere at all exciting. Just a small fishing town where the fresh sea
breeze was often tainted with the smell of drying nets and diesel fumes from
the trawlers.

The bank had arranged accommodation in the local YWCA, and it was Collette
who showed me around it for the first time. She was a plump, cheerful girl
with a bubbly personality who had the room next to mine and also worked at
the bank. In fact the bank was such a small one that Collette and I were the
sole full time staff, plus the manager. The only other employee was a local
married woman who came in during the mornings to help with the bookwork.

Though everything seemed fine at first I soon had an vague impression that
Collette had something on her mind that she wanted to talk about. One
afternoon she invited me into her room to share some beer she'd smuggled in
and to have a little chat. It turned out to be a little chat with some big
surprises in it.

"Listen, Yvonne, I've got a private arrangement at the bank. The thing is, I
need your help to keep it going. The girl who had your job before was happy
to help out and I'm hoping you'll do the same."

My first reaction was a horrible fear that I was being invited to help cook
the books.

"God, no," Collette had answered, laughing. "No, it's nothing like that at
all. It's to do with Georgie Kalvos."

As new as I was in town I already knew something about Georgie, a classic
immigrant success story. He'd arrived in town as a teenager with only the
clothes on his back and hardly able to speak a word of English. A lot of
people thought that originally he'd jumped ship. If so, it had been the first
of many smart moves: now he owned four fishing boats, a processing plant and
even the trucks that took his catch off to the markets had his name on their
sides. But what he and Collette could have in common I couldn't imagine. So I
asked her.

"Well....," Collette seemed rather coy. "Before I go back to the city I'd
like to make as much spare cash as I can. And what Georgie wants is some fun
on the side. He's certainly got the money to pay for it. The problem is that
this is a small town and his wife is a Greek as well. You know how jealous
these foreign wives can be about every little thing."

I hardly knew anything at all about marriage or marriages, whether foreign or
domestic. But I just nodded.

"So, we've got this arrangement. Every Thursday afternoon our boss goes off
to the weekly managers' meeting upstate. Which just leaves me and the other
teller in the branch. Which also means that from now on you'll be the other
teller, right?"

Yes, I said, I supposed so. Of course this was a small town back in an era
when people went on holiday without bothering to lock their doors and bank
robberies only happened in Westerns.

"So what?" I asked.

"So on Thursday afternoons Georgie comes in to collect the payroll for his
workers."

"What about it?"

Collette sighed in frustration and looking back I can't blame her. I must
have led an incredibly sheltered life.

"Yvonne, what I'm trying to tell you is that when he arrives I take him into
the manager's office to get the money out of the safe. He'll arrive just
before closing time and we'll be in there for about an hour. So I'd be really
grateful if you'd cash up and keep look-out for us until I let him out of the
back door. And please don't come knocking on the office door unless you have
to."

I nearly dropped my glass in surprise when I finally understood what she was
talking about: "In the bank! You're doing it with a customer in the bank!"

"I told you, he has to be very careful about his wife not finding out. So
going to the bank for the payroll is a perfect alibi. Who's ever going to
suspect that anything would be going on there?"

"But, Collette, why do you do it?"

"For money, that's why. He leaves me a hundred dollar tip from the wages
afterwards."

I was astonished all over again. In those days fifty dollars was a good wage
for a week's work. For a woman, anyway.

"Look, all I need is for you not to tell anyone. It's worth ten bucks for you
to cover for me. The important thing is that you keep an eye open for the
boss coming back early from the meeting and maybe dropping into the bank on
his way home. He never has done yet but it might happen sometime. If it does
just ring the office bell under the counter and then keep him talking as long
as you can. It doesn't have to be all that long because I always keep most of
my clothes on - all except the really important bits."

I recall how she'd giggled in amusement at her own bravado. I'd thought she
was a silly little girl who was one day going to miserably sad about how
she'd sacrificed her virtue for a few dollars. Yes, I know, it sounds like a
story that should have dragons and knights in shining armor in it, but the
world was different then, or at least a lot of us thought it was. Anyway, if
anybody wants to look for a moral in all this, Collette is now worth millions
whilst I'm still looking after other peoples' money.

At the time though I was as stuck up and snotty as only a young fool can be.
I'd said that I didn't want her dollars and whatever she did with Mr Kalvos
was her business and nothing to do with me.

"Well, suit yourself," Collette had answered cheerfully. "Susie, the last
girl, she had a different ideas altogether. I'd better not tell you about
what the pair of us got up to though, or you'll be really shocked."

Shocked! - and this was the same girl I'd seen carrying the collection plate
around in church on Sunday!

"But you won't tell on me?"

"No, I won't say anything - but, Collette, isn't it - well, awful - to do it
with an old man? An older man, anyway."

That had amused her a lot: "Yvonne, Georgie is a wonderful lover. If you ever
find a man half as good you'll be lucky. Anyway, always remember, the older
the man is the more likely he is to be telling you the truth about his
vasectomy!"

It was a conversation which made me think I still had a lot to learn about
life. It was also a long time before I got to sleep that night - especially
as it was a Wednesday night. You could say I was gripped by a lot of
conflicting emotions. But for all my brave words it was my curiousity which
was most stirred. I'd always thought sex for normal women was all to do with
marriage and white gowns and honeymoons and lifelong romance - not something
to be bought and sold in a bank office like any other commodity. Or was it
all some huge joke that Collette was playing on me? I finally decided it had
to be a joke, and that she must have a very strange sense of humor.

Georgie Kalvos arrived precisely when Collette said he would, and we both
called him Mr Kalvos respectfully; after all, he was the bank's biggest
customer. Even so, with just the three of us there, I would have expected to
see some signs of the relationship Collette had told me about. I was more
sure than ever that it had all been a joke.

On the other hand things continued to go exactly as Collette had predicted.
They went off to the manager's office together and after I'd locked the front
doors and emptied the cash registers they were still in there. Almost a
quarter of an hour by then. Something more than checking the payroll had to
be going on in there, but what? Where they really having sex together, or was
Collette teaching him double entry book keeping or something?

It was driving me crazy, not knowing. There was a way to find out though -
just to slip out very quietly into the corridor and listen for a few seconds.
Whatever was going on in the office, I should get a clue to it from some very
discreet eavesdropping. I'd like to say I had to struggle with my conscience
before I decided on that course of action, but the truth is that my
conscience was as curious as the rest of me.

When I tiptoed out into the gloomy corridor I was totally surprised to find
that the manager's office door was half opened. What was more, I could hear
Collette muttering softly and giggling. Like a cat being drawn towards
catmint I simply couldn't help taking a few more steps down the corridor. And
what I finally saw made me gasp and then clasp my hands to my mouth to
belatedly stifle the sound. For Collette was bent over the desk, her back to
the door. She was still wearing the white crisp blouse which, with a dark
skirt, was the bank's summer uniform. But she certainly wasn't wearing her
skirt, just a wispy pair of black panties, a black suspender belt and uniform
issue dark stockings. It was a sight which made my heart jump, my mouth go
dry and set my legs trembling.

For some reason I had a sudden mental picture of Collette standing in her
booth and calmly serving the customers the way she was now, perfectly normal
from the waist up and practically naked below. In fact I'd never before seen
panties like the ones she was wearing, of the thinnest silk and briefest cut
imaginable, panties which looked as if they would float like thistle seed if
somebody threw them into the air. In fact that seemed to be exactly their
raison d'etre, to be dragged off their wearer and tossed carelessly aside by
some lust crazed male. Even at the time I couldn't help wondering where the
shop was that she'd bought them from.

George appeared in the doorway, also with his back to me. In his hand were
what looked like a wad of bills. I saw him take one of them in his other
hand, fold it and slip it into Collette's stocking tops. Then the same hand
lifted up and gently caressed the gusset of her panties. Collette giggled
again, stirred around on the desk top and then hissed approvingly. Her well
rounded buttocks lifted up higher in an obvious invitation to Georgie's
fingers, which probed a line of blonde curls that had suddenly appeared in
the panties. I found myself blushing at the sight.

For a second or so I actually thought her underwear had split open, until I
realised that they had an open gusset, that the panties were actually
designed that way, to reveal much more than they hid. At least my curiousity
was satisfied now about whether Georgie and Collette were indeed having an
affair. What also amazed me was that they hadn't even bothered to close the
door properly. Still, they certainly hadn't seen me and all I had to do was
to creep away softly from this embarrassing situation.

And it was then, when I tried to back away, that I found out how big a
mistake I'd made. Because the hem of my skirt tugged around my legs when I
tried to step back, just as a bell tinkled inside the office. I gasped in
horror and tried to flee but my dammed skirt seemed to be stuck in mid-air,
and then I heard the sound of tearing cloth as the bell kept on tinkling.
Georgie had already swung around towards the doorway. Panic stricken by then,
I bent over and brushed my hands over the places where the skirt seemed to be
held, then yelped as something small but viciously sharp caught at my right
palm. The door flew open, casting more light into the corridor and finally
letting me see what was happening.

On each white painted wall were tiny pieces of clear sticky tape, opposite to
each other and about two feet above the carpet. Stretched between them was a
length of very fine black fishing line which had been invisible in the dimly
lit corridor. And hanging from every inch of the line were tiny black painted
hooks with four barbs sticking out of each of them, barbs with extremely
sharp points. It was these which had gotten caught up in my skirt. In total
panic I made one last desperate attempt to pull free of the hooks and
achieved nothing but making one or two more rips in it.

The bell tinkled again as if an impatient customer was waiting and Georgie's
laughter echoed it. He bent down and picked up another length of fishing line
which was obviously attached to the one with the hooks on. The other end was
just as obviously attached to the bell in the office.

Standing there with my mouth hanging open I stared at the man's grinning face
as I realised I had stumbled into a trap, a simple but very effective one
which had snared me as easily as a rabbit in a noose. Not only trapped, but
warning Georgie and Collette that I was standing out in the corridor like a
fool! How much of a fool I felt I can only leave to your imagination.

Before I could even think of anything to say Georgie walked towards me,
grabbed my wrists, pulled me towards him and kissed me full on the lips. A
mingled and overpowering aroma of spearmint mouthwash and garlic went into my
nose and deep down into my lungs as I made a futile attempt to push him away.
It was like trying to shove a wall over. He simply lifted my wrists up over
my shoulders without the slightest effort, as though he were dangling a rag
doll.

"Beautiful girl, Yvonne. I like you so much," he said happily.

Behind him Collette was standing in the doorway, apparently not embarrassed
at all about the way she was dressed or what I'd seen them doing. "I thought
you'd come and have a look. That's great, now you can see as much as you
like."

"No, I don't want to see anything," I protested, still squirming
ineffectually in Georgie's iron grip.

"Then how come we've caught you snooping on us? That wasn't what I asked you
to do, that was something you decided to do yourself. Keep her there,
Georgie."

Collette walked towards me, around me, so she was facing George, then quite
calmly started undoing my belt!

"What do you think you're doing!" I protested.

Collette answered me in a totally unsympathetic way: "Sorry, but I guess
you've landed yourself right in it now, Yvonne. Don't panic though, nobody is
going to hurt you."

My muscles tensed, ready to fight or flee. But how could I do either with
Georgie holding my arms and my toes hardly touching the ground.?

"As for what we're doing, we're protecting ourselves, Yvonne." Collette
continued briskly. "Look, this is a pretty dangerous game Georgie and I are
playing. If his wife were to find out about this we'd have the Trojan wars
all over again. Personally, I want to start my own business soon and I'll
probably need a bank loan. I wouldn't have much chance of getting one if I
was remembered as the girl who got fired from a bank herself for getting
screwed by the customers. So we have to be careful."

I made one more attempt to wriggle free from Georgie and then instantly
stopped as Collette unhooked the hook and eye at the skirt's waist. One more
such movement and it was clear that my skirt was going to slip down.

"Now, if you hadn't come into the corridor we wouldn't have bothered about
you. After all you couldn't have seen anything so you couldn't have said for
certain that anything was really going on. But you did come near the office,
you did see what was happening. It's a problem for us then, to make sure you
don't tell anybody else."

"You left the goddammed door open, didn't you? I wouldn't have seen anything
but for that!"

Collette laughed at my anger, reached out and toyed with my zipper tab.

"No you wouldn't have seen anything, so you would have crept up closer to the
door and listened instead, and you would have been just as certain about what
was going. We left the door open so that if the bell was rung we could be out
in the corridor before you ran away. Truth to tell, I didn't think the
fishhooks would work as well as they did. They were Georgie's idea when we
were planning this."

"What do you mean, planning it?"

"Well, it wouldn't have been much of a plan if you'd stayed out front as you
were supposed to. There wouldn't have been any problem either about you
telling tales on us."

I hastily shook my head in rebuttal: "There isn't any problem. I won't tell
anyone, I promise."

"Yeah, Yvonne maybe, but Georgie and I would be much surer of that if you had
as much to lose as we do." She jerked the zipper down and tweaked the pleats
on the skirt.

Even at that moment I was surprised about how Georgie was just standing
there, letting Collette do all the talking. I had already begun to realise
how strong a personality she had. Now I had a demonstration of how ruthless
she was as well as my skirt dropped down around my feet. Georgie laughed and
said something in Greek which sounded as if he was pleased. His head was bent
forward as he looked down at my legs.

"Oh, he likes you alright. He's been hoping like hell you'd come along,
haven't you, Georgie?"

I tried to speak calmly: "Please, Collette, what is it you want me to do?"

She gave a little half smile, put her hands on my hips, lifted them
underneath my shirt, her fingertips scratched at my skin, and then went down
into the tops of my panties.

"Collette, no!"

"Ten...nine...eight....seven...and still coming down!" Collette mocked me as
she pulled my underwear down around my legs. Georgie whoofed with glee at
what she was doing. Because I was stretched up the bottom of my shirt had
been lifted halfway up my bottom and between the shirt and my stocking tops I
was now totally naked. It was all a nightmare, impossible, that I could be
displayed like this in front of a leering old man.

"Collete, you're a bitch, a slut!" I cursed her.

"And you're a miserable fucking bitch, Yvonne. For God's sake put a smile on
your face and enjoy the party. And don't worry, you can come as you are."

She laughed at the expression on my face, knelt down and finished slipping
the panties down to ankle height: "Off the deck, please, Georgie."

"OK", Georgie responded, lifting me completely off the carpet for the second
it took Collette to slip the waistband over my uniform lace-up shoes. She
knelt back and jerked the fishing line free of the wall, then stood up
holding my skirt and panties. "So that's it, Georgie. You can let her go
now."

My heels fell back onto the carpet with a perceptible jolt as he released me:
"You are OK, Yvonne?"

I'd actually started to massage my wrists before I realised how my shirt was
still rucked up around my middle and hastily tugged it down. Even with my
shirt held down at full stretch and bending forward I was barely decent.

Collette 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 days you've
got to learn 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 Georgy 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 pumkin-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."

Collette 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 odour 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!

"Collette -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 George
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
realise 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 Collette 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. Collette 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.
Collette 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?"

Collette 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."

It seemed to take ages before my feet began moving. Even longer before I was
standing in front of Collette's head with Georgie's keen eyes looking up at
me like a feeding eagle's from over her prone back. My 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 astonishment at how
easily I'd fallen into the trap. But I'd only fallen into the trap 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 - whilst I worked my way down the buttons, wondering how it could be
that I was managing to undo them with my fingers trembling so much. 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 jewellery above my waist, and only my stockings
and suspenders 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, open
mouthed and his swarthy face even darker than I could remember seeing it
before. Both of his hands were exploring Collette where his mouth has just
been, though it seemed to be something he was less interested in doing so
than in looking and talking to me.

"Turn that chair around and sit on it," Collette demanded.

Wondering what she had in mind I did as she wanted, now with my back to her.
I heard her moving and felt her behind me, just before the chair was dragged
around again. Collette 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 in my lap. Her sharp
fingernails dug into my earlobes, painfully.

"Hands on top of the armrests, honey, and knees wide apart. Here's where the
fun really starts for you."

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 not quite so 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 back into the new position I could see Collette
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," Collette 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 remarkably rough and calloused 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 I hardly noticed Collette
unhooking the front of my bra and pulling the cups apart. Georgie looked up
and flashed his white teeth as Collette's fingernails clamped themselves like
kitten's claws around my tightening nipples. "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, probings its
target area with practised skill. It was like having an electric eel swimming
into me, an indescribable sensation.

"Deal - what deal?" I gasped

"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
armrests of the chair like an astronaut during blastoff and beginning to moan
with pleasure. Colette nipped my trapped nipples in her nails and chuckled.

"Yeah, sure, honey, you're just cock teasing him and there's no way you're
going to get fucked every which way. To tell the the truth though, from where
I'm standing it looks like money in the bank."

Georgie leaned back and looked up at me, as if judging the results of his
handiwork so far. His 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.

"Yvonne, you are a beautiful girl, and I think this is your first time with a
man, yes?"

I didn't want to say anything, I only nodded, and Collette whooped with joy,
giving me two more painful pinches. "Oh, great, another bonus! I just wish I
could put it on your cubicle card for the customers to read - bank teller in
training and recent ex-virgin!"


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