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"HOOKED"

By

David Shaw
<shaw_david@hotmail.com>

(THIS STORY IS INTENDED FOR THE ENJOYMENT OF ADULTS ONLY)

	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."

-----== Posted via Deja News, The Leader in Internet Discussion ==-----
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