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From: david@f-e-mail.com (David Shaw)
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Subject: {ASSM} RP "HOOKED"(M/FF; F/voyeur: reluc.) By David Shaw
Date: Sat, 3 Jun 2000 10:10:28 -0400
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"HOOKED"(M/FF; F/voyeur: reluc.)
By
David Shaw
david@f-e-mail.com
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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. Yet 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 still I think that Georgie 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. I
remember 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 to do it, 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! What a fool I'd been!
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 almost to my waist 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 stop, 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 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."
THE END
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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