George and Carol
Synopsis
Carol, a convicted thief, twice steals from an employer who tries to help her.
by obohobo
Please take note!
The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.
MF NC. Spanking
If you are underage or offended by such material or, if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.
This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies. In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.
Copyright 2006
“Sure,” I replied. Quarter of an hour later I told Lynda, “Alternator relay is shot. Do you want me to fit a new one or will you do it yourself?” I knew I’d get the job because Lynda hadn’t a clue about doing it. I wiped my hands of a dirty piece of cloth and went to see Rosie to get the parts. “Hi,” she greeted me with a smile, “How was your weekend?”
It hadn’t always been like that. It certainly wasn’t five years ago when I applied for a job here and when Lynda, who I regarded as a friend, seemingly turned against me.
“Have you gone mad George McCormack?” Rosie, my accounts secretary, berated me. She’d been with the firm since my father’s time and probably knows more about the running of a small garage business than I did. “She’s a convicted thief and stuck up with it. She didn’t seem a very amiable girl to me, and certainly not one that’s going to suit our customers. I wouldn’t mind betting that anyone who comes in here wearing overalls will get the hurry up and get out treatment.”
“The probation service asked me to give her a chance and they bring some work our way so I thought it would be a nice gesture to help her. We’ll see how she handles things…”
“You mean you want to see how you can handle her tits! She thrust them in your face enough! You won’t be the one keeping an eye on her; you’re in the workshop most of the time or out in the recovery vehicle. I’ll be the one who has to put up with her and she wasn’t very pleasant when I spoke to her. Snooty bitch.”
The outburst took me by surprise because usually Rosie is placid and calm, but I knew she was at least partially right. I did fancy my chances of getting into her knickers but I answered, “When Mike Robinson explained the situation, I felt I couldn’t let him down.” Rosie shrugged and abruptly left. I knew I should have consulted her before hiring the girl but, hell, I was the boss and I would be the one paying her.
“They caught her taking money from the petty cash tin in the office,” Mike informed me. “The firm had a policy of prosecuting all theft and took her to court. The magistrates gave her two years probation and made it quite clear she would go to prison if she were caught again. Obviously she’s been finding it difficult to get a job and that increases the temptation for her to steal again. If she has a regular income and knows the penalty for re-offending, she should be reliable and you shouldn’t have any worries over employing her.” He made it seem like I would be some uncaring bastard if I didn’t give her a chance.
Of course,
when she came in for an interview in a low cut dress and a smile, that helped
sway my decision. That and the sight of the rest of the package! Fairly short
and slim but with a nice, full arse and shoulder length dark hair, soon had me
agreeing to employ her although I did remember to state it was on a months
trial. Once more I looked at her application form. Carol Stevens, age 23,
obtained a handful of GCSE’s at the local comprehensive and had several office
and sales type jobs since, one of which she left without getting a reference. I
wondered now if she had been stealing from them and left to avoid prosecution.
“Too late to worry now George,” I told myself, “Just keep an eye on her.
Maybe if you can take her out a few times…maybe even take her to bed a few
times…she’ll be more amenable and won’t try stealing from you.”
I knew I had to make the effort and get the job at McCormack’s garage even though it wasn’t what I wanted. Mike had tried to get me a number of jobs but as soon as they saw my record, I hardly ever got an interview. My job seekers allowance was hardly enough to keep me in food let alone pay the overly expensive rent on my pokey little bed-sit or buy my make-up. I certainly didn’t fancy handling all those greasy parts and dealing with the sort of customers that a garage attracts. Still I guessed most of the stuff was pre-packed these days and if I could hold the job for a few weeks, I would have a better chance when something better came up.
“He’s a young guy,” Mike informed me, “About 30, I reckon.” Thirty! He thought thirty was young? “Only been running the business since his father died of a heart attack a year or so ago. He’s worked there since he left school but went to college part time to get his NVQ and he seems to be making a go of the business. I’ve arranged an interview for Friday morning, 10 a.m. but you might have to be flexible in the time if there is an road accident he has to recover.”
“Do you know anything about him Lynda?” I asked my friend when we were in the pub. She used the garage to service and MOT her car.
“Big bloke. Over six foot tall and big with it. Quite hunky if you’re into the he-man/Tarzan type. No spare tyre around his waist but I don’t think he’s into sport stuff. Friendly enough and gives all the women the eye when they bring in a car but he does a good job without charging the earth, not like the chain garages. He’s never made a pass at me although I hear that he is living on his own again. Do you fancy your chances with him then?” Lynda I knew was teasing me, knowing only too well I never went out on dates with working class men. Unfortunately my dates with richer men in the business community had come to an abrupt halt when the local paper printed the news of my court case.
“Decisions, decisions, decisions,” I muttered to myself as I tried various outfits for the interview. In the end I plumped for a low cut, loose tee shirt without a bra, mini skirt and thong and low heels. That would at least catch his eye especially if I leaned forward and he could see my tits. Perhaps it wasn’t the right choice in the late September weather, or perhaps it was. The chill air hardened my nipples and made them show through the tee shirt material.
“Good morning, I’m Rosemary Sinclair, most call me Rosie,” the old bag told me when I explained why I was there. “Please wait and I will see if Mr. McCormack is free.” Her face showed her distaste for the way I was dressed.
“I had an appointment for ten and it’s now past that so he should be here, Ms. Sinclair.” I emphasised the ‘Ms.’ to imply she was an old maid but before she could answer George McCormack walks in and offers me his grubby paw. I took it as delicately as I could and then went into his office for the interview. That I thought went quite well. I flashed my tits at him a couple of times and I know he had a good look. Lynda was right about him being a big man and he looked quite fit but he was definitely a working man; he didn’t even change out of his dirty dungarees when he came in. Still he gave me the job plus warnings about my behaviour and a sermon about him giving me a second chance etc. etc. It almost made me puke but I managed to look contrite about my stealing record and it seemed to impress him.
Rosie’s words quickly proved true. Not an hour after Carol had started work I had a complaint about her attitude to one of my customers. I was busy under the lift replacing an exhaust pipe when in walks Pete Sharman. “Hi George, who’s that new girl you’ve got in the shop?”
“Carol, Carol Stevens. Why?” I could see he was fuming.
“I wanted a belt pulley for the old Ford and when I asked to look through the second hand spares stuff in the back she looked at me like I was a lump of shit and said, “If it isn’t in the racks we haven’t got it.” She refused to let me through into the back.”
Looking at Pete, I could half understand why. He was fifty years old, unshaven, had a beer gut, wore dirty blue overalls and smoked roll-ups. Nevertheless he was a good customer and a good mechanic and I employed him whenever we were short handed. I knew he was completely honest and wouldn’t take anything without paying for it or checking with me. He earned some sort of a living buying up old cars, repairing them and selling them on. “Give me a minute Pete to tighten this lot up and I’ll take you through and tell Carol to let you in in future.” We chatted for a bit and I walked to the shop with him. Another customer waylaid me at the door with a question that only needed a short answer but I was a few yards behind Pete when he went into the shop; far enough behind for Carol not to see me but close enough to hear her ask, “Whatcha want this time? A bar of soap? A…”
“Carol,” I rebuked her sharply, “You will treat all our customers as gentlemen and despite their outward appearance, most of them are. This here is Pete, a very good customer of ours and a friend of mine and when he comes in and asks to go through to the spares room, you will allow him to do so. If he wishes to take a part away to try it that’s fine too.”
“If you say so Sir.” She emphasised the word ‘sir’, put her nose in the air and turned her head away.
As if to highlight Pete’s position Rosie entered the shop. “How yer doin’ Pete,” she greeted him, “How was the fishing yesterday?” Pete found what he wanted and I apologised again for Carol’s rudeness.
Pete came in several times over the next couple of days but he always went to Rosie or me to be served. Carol’s attitude hadn’t improved much but I decided to see if her personality changed after work. “Would you like to go to the pictures with me tomorrow night?” I asked. Her reply shocked me.
“I don’t date old men over twenty-five!” It wasn’t just the words that put me down; it was the vehemence and hatred with which she said them.
“She’ll have to change or she’ll go,” I decided but still I didn’t want to throw her on to the streets. Before she left that night I called her into the office and told her bluntly that if she didn’t treat our customers civilly and pleasantly she would be looking for another job at the end of the week. It did in fact improve a little or at least she was civil if not friendly towards our clients.
The job was worse than I anticipated. Hardly had I started my day when this filthy old man comes in, his clothes reeking of tobacco and oil and demands to go through into the back room. I didn’t even know what was in there and Rosie had told me that everything in the shop was packaged and bar coded so all I had to do was to ring it up on the till and take the money or credit card. I’d done that before. Certainly I wasn’t going to take some nosy old tramp into a room at the back, especially as Rosie was in the works somewhere. He went off in a huff and it wasn’t too long before he came back and I started to give him shit again when the boss appeared and told me off and said to allow the tramp freedom to more or less come and go as he pleased. I almost gave him a piece of my mind but then remembered he paid my wages and I was getting desperately short of cash and my credit cards were maxed out. Fortunately I was able to avoid the tramp for the rest of the week although he came in and saw Rosie. Perhaps she was getting it off with him; they chatted as though they were on good terms with each other. He actually had a wash and wore cleaner clothes the next time.
“Would you like to go to the pictures with me tomorrow night?” “Christ,” I thought, “He’s trying to get into my knickers already. An old man like him. Bet he thinks he is doing me a great favour by giving me a job. Perhaps he is but it’s me that’s working in this disgusting place so I don’t see why I should work on my back for him at night.” My telling him that he was too old for me hit him right between the eyes and he stepped back in shock, then left the room. From that moment, I knew my chances of keeping the job were slim. I’d flaunted myself at him at the interview and now he hoped to cash in on it. No way. Although my heart wasn’t in it, I did try to be nicer to the customers. He’d taken me on a month’s trial and I surmised that would be the maximum time I would work for him and when next day, he called me in to his office and bluntly told me to get my act together or I would be out at the end of the following week, I resolved to make some bonus payments to myself as compensation.
“How’s she doing now Rosie?”
“That’s what I’ve come to see you about George. She a little better with the customers but… but for two days in a row, the till has been down on what should be in it. Ten pounds Monday and thirty-five last night. I know we all make mistakes in giving change but to be down by that amount for two nights in a row isn’t normal.”
“You think she might be helping herself?”
“I keep as close an eye on her as I can but we have to have separate lunch breaks to keep the shop open.”
“You checked the cctv?”
“Of course. Nothing obvious but there are a number of times when she’s standing between the camera and the till and it could be she does it then but I couldn’t tell. Do you think I should eat my sandwiches in the shop George?”
I could tell she was concerned and also there was a hint of ‘I told you so’ in the way she said it. “No, I don’t think that will help Rosie, thank you all the same,” I replied after a pause. “She will know then that we suspect her and find an alternative time when you are out of the room. I’ll check the tapes when she’s gone tonight.”
After looking through the footage I had to agree with Rosie, that the lunch break was the most likely time and on that day’s tape, she even glanced at the camera before putting her body in its line of sight. I worked out a plan.
“We’re down another thirty pounds on yesterday’s takings,” Rosie informed me on Thursday morning.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve set the trap and now we have to see if the mouse takes the bait.” I gave a little grin. Rosie may have had some idea of what I’d done because she was in the room when I tried unsuccessfully to get the cctv working that morning. What I had actually done the previous evening was to disable the neon that showed the camera to be working and fiddled the contrast controls on the monitor so it showed a blank white screen. In reality the recorder in the office was still working.
We didn’t quite catch her as clearly on tape that lunchtime as I would have liked, but it seemed fairly obvious that she was secreting money into her jeans pocket. Again we were down about thirty pounds.
Rosie agreed to come back after every one had left Friday evening and go through the accounts from the till while I checked the tape. For some reason on Fridays there always seemed to be more cash payments whereas for other days, credit cards made up most of the sales.
“One hundred and ten pounds down. She’s getting greedy. Anything on the tape?” Rosie looked grim and took it as a personal affront when the accounts didn’t balance.
“Yes, I’m making a copy tape now. I’ll show you in a couple of minutes.” Carol had made no effort to hide what she was doing that morning.
“What the hell do you want? I’m changing ready to go out.” Carol looked very surprised and shocked when I knocked on her door and before she had time to close it in my face I pushed my way inside. She was only half dressed with just her blouse and knickers on and they didn’t hide very much.
“So you’re up to your old tricks again.”
“I don’t know what you mean. How dare you burst in here and accuse me of stealing.” She tried to appear outraged but there was a quaver in her voice.
“It’s all here on video tape. Do you want to see it? Put it in your machine.” I handed her the tape.
“But…” she started and then realised she’d been duped.
“You owe me about £215 Carol. Pay up or the tape goes to the police and you know what that means. I doubt you have all the money so…”
“So you’re going to blackmail me into being your little sex slave. No way George McsoddingCormack! I’m not going to be one of those who says, “I’ll do anything if you don’t go to the police.” Do what you like with the sodding tape!” Before I could move out of the way she flung the tape and it caught my forehead opening a small cut. Blood ran down my nose.
I hadn’t anticipated that reaction. Admittedly I half wondered if I could use the tape as a lever to bed her but after what I’d learned about her during her fortnight in my employ, I doubted if it would be worth it. Despite her unpleasantness, I didn’t really want her to go to prison.
“Lynda’s early,” I thought when I heard the knock on the door, “We can go clubbing tonight without my having to sponge on her again. Certainly I wasn’t prepared for bloody McCormack to barge in and accuse me of stealing. Apparently the cctv camera was working and I immediately guessed that Rosie woman had alerted him and he’d messed with the camera and I’d been duped. Bloody sod was more cunning than I thought. My mind raced through the options. I could plead guilty and beg forgiveness and try to make out I was so desperately in need of the money that I had to have it. No, I couldn’t beg to that old bastard. The alternatives were prison if he went to the police or possibly sexual blackmail. He’s already shown an interest in my body; that’s how I’d got the job. I wondered which would actually be worse, sex with him or prison. I still had enough pride not to become a sex toy so I reacted without thinking; I flung the tape at him as hard as I could. Quite by chance the corner hit his head and blood started running down his face. For a few moments I was both horrified and pleased but seconds later, I knew I’d made a grave mistake.
Before I could try and escape the bastard grabbed me and threw me face down on the bed. He sat on my back facing my ankles pinning me down and effectively smothering most of my cries. My cursing made very little difference to my position. He’s a big man and I’m a small woman so I was helpless and vulnerable. I kicked my legs but that was totally ineffective. I’d been changing ready to go out when he arrived so I’d only a blouse and my thong knickers on which left my arse was more or less bare.
“SLAP!!” “SLAP!!” “SLAP!!” “SLAP!!” “SLAP!!” “SLAP!!” “SLAP!!” “SLAP!!” “SLAP!!” I have no idea how many times he hit my arse but it must have been at least fifty, and every hit hurt like hell. His hands were bloody hard and he’d big muscles from humping car bits around. I tried to yell and scream but if anyone heard me, they didn’t heed my cries. Just when I thought I could take no more he stopped and rolled me on my back. I wondered if he would rape me but he simply put a hand over my mouth to quieten me down and said, “I shan’t be going to the police but I don’t want you back in my shop any more except to collect your wages. You’ve been punished and that’s the end of it as far as I am concerned.”
“I could go to the police and have you arrested for assault.” I tried to sound brave through my sobbing.
“You could but you won’t because your part would come out too and I still have the original of that tape.” With that the sod let me go and then ransacked my jeans and purse and took all the money he could find. The bastard didn’t leave me with any notes, just a few coins. “This is only some of what you stole Carol, but I’ll take it as full payment. Rosie will work out your wages on Monday and you can collect them then. I’m not going to rob you of what is rightfully yours.” He was about to leave when Lynda arrived. “She might need a bit of looking after tonight.” The sod gave her a sweet smile and left.
“Hi Lynda. Did she send you to pick up her wages? How is she?” It was Monday lunchtime and I stood in the shop while Rosie had her lunch. From the times I’d serviced her cars, I knew Lynda to be less of a snob than Carol and would even laugh with a genuine smile.
“I guess you know that you’re not the flavour of the month with her. She still walks stiffly after the pasting you gave her and she’s still swearing to get her revenge. I should be angry with you too because I didn’t get to go clubbing on Friday either and had to listen to her tale of woes and put cream on her arse.”
“Sorry about that Lynda. I didn’t expect you to become involved.”
“Actually you probably did her a good turn if she had the sense to realise it. You could have gone straight to the police or were you going to blackmail her?”
“I doubt I would have done that although the thought did cross my mind. She’s been too much of a bitch here for me to consider it for long. It was only when she threw the tape and I felt the blood run down my face that I lost my cool and gave her what I thought she deserved.”
“Yeah, I can see you still have the mark on your head. To my mind she needs someone like you to take control over her. The boys she strings along just make her worse. She lords it over them and rarely lets them have more than a quick feel.”
I didn’t hear any more from Carol or Lynda for three weeks and then Lynda phoned, “George, Carol’s been thrown out of her bed-sit. Hasn’t paid her rent for weeks apparently. The landlord’s kept anything he could sell and threw her and the rest of her stuff outside. She’s sitting on the grass outside my place now. I couldn’t help her with money as its still a few days before my paycheque is paid in and my new boyfriend hates her guts so she couldn’t stay here. You don’t have to do anything and she’ll probably resist if you do, but I wonder if you would try. I don’t know who else to turn to for help. I know she’s a real bitch but you might be able to tame her. You have a big enough house unless you’ve taken anyone else in. The council won’t give her a flat because she hasn’t even been to any of the job interviews they sent her to and they docked her benefits too, so she’s in a desperate financial state.”
“Shit, shit, shit! Shit on that Asian bastard Rahid Rasmeel. Just because I owe two months rent, he throws me out. Even suggested I earned a bit along the Calderhall Road. Me a prostitute! No way. And now that bitch Lynda won’t take me in. Just because she’s got a live-in boyfriend now! What the hell am I going to do? I’ve no where to go, no money, well just the fiver Lynda gave me and that won’t buy much, and three plastic bags of clothes.” I swore at myself. “Who else can I ask? No one I suppose. No one likes me. I’m not that unattractive surely? Yeah but any ex boyfriends will want to fuck me and they know I haven’t put out to them before.”
The tears were rolling down my face so I didn’t notice the van pull up until my plastic bags were taken from me and a voice said, “Get in the van Carol.” It was George Sodding McCormack. What the hell did he want? He hated my guts and I hated his and I certainly wasn’t about to get into his bloody van.
“Piss off,” I screamed, “And leave my clothes alone!” I certainly wasn’t prepared for his next move. Seeing him come towards me I started to get up but I hadn’t regained my feet when he gathered me in his arms like a baby and carried me to the van. “Phone the police Lynda!” I yelled but the bitch and her snotty boyfriend just stood there with smiles on their faces. “You bitch!” At that moment I knew she was behind my kidnapping. Seconds later I was thrown in the back of the van alongside my bags.
“Had you done as you were told you could have sat up front. Now you’ll have to make do in there.” The look of contempt of his face told me that he really didn’t want to take me in any more than I wanted to be with him. Bitch Lynda I supposed.
“SLAM! CLUNK!” The door slammed shut and I was in complete darkness; the engine started and I yelled as we started moving and I slid along the oily metal floor. At that moment I became very afraid. Managing to wedge myself in a corner, I tried to evaluate the situation and my options. “A man who dislikes you and who has already thrashed you once and who could easily do so again is taking you to an unknown destination. What can you do about it? Nothing for the moment. He’ll probably want sex like he did before but I’ll resist that. What else might he want? Someone to do his washing and ironing? Me a housemaid? I don’t think so.” I sobbed and cursed. Cursed the landlord, cursed Lynda, cursed her boyfriend and most of all I cursed George Sodding McCormack. “Perhaps he will take me to the garage and I can appeal to Rosie for help? No she’d be on his side. Perhaps he will take me to his home or somewhere else and hold me prisoner and force me to become his sex slave? Like I expected when he found I’d stolen his money. Will he murder me? I don’t think he will go quite that far. At work he was fairly even tempered. Bitch Lynda even said that he wouldn’t have thrashed me if I hadn’t thrown the cassette at him. Oh shit, how did I get myself into this mess? And how am I going to get out of it? We can’t be going to the garage, we’ve gone too far for that. But where the hell are we going? Ah we’re stopping and he’s shut the engine off. Be ready to run for help Carol.” I wasn’t given the chance.
I drove slowly trying to refine the half thought out plan I conjured up after receiving Lynda’s phone call. What was I going to do with her once we’d arrived at my house? Much would depend on her cooperation and at the moment any cooperation seemed most unlikely. My trump card was that the house had a cellar with a sturdy, lockable door.
Grandfather bought the house in 1952 for the princely sum of £2,200 as a wedding present for mother and father. The place had been built in 1756 as a coaching inn and still had a wide side entrance, now closed off with wooden doors, and outbuildings at the back, which originally were stables. For many years, father used them as his motor repair workshop until he could afford the buy the garage that I now own. The house itself was far too big for my needs and, although I was comfortable with it, the place really needed modernising, a point not lost on the two girlfriends that I’d had stay with me for short periods and the few that I brought back for one night stands. I don’t know why, but I just couldn’t get into a lasting relationship.
For much of my childhood, the cellar was my playroom and during that time father added a small bathroom and toilet, more for when I had friends sleep over than for my personal use. Now I used it to store a load of furniture and stuff I’d cleared out when my parents died. This was to be Carol’s home until she proved she could live with me in the upstairs rooms.
Closing and locking the gates behind me, I parked in the small courtyard behind the house and carefully opened one half of the door at the back of the van. Carol glared at me but said nothing. Slowly she stood up and pressed herself against the far wall. “Come on out Carol.” Deliberately I stood to one side so she wouldn’t be intimidated by my blocking her exit. As I half expected, as soon as she was at the door she jumped to the ground and ran for the gate.
“Bastard, bastard, bastard,” she spat at me when she found herself trapped and I easily picked her up and carried her inside and down into the cellar. For a while she continued to hurl abuse at me but when I dumped her in an old armchair and she had time to look around, she must have begun to realise her position and went very quiet. The only exit was the stairway and I had locked the door at the top. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked with a quaver in her voice.
“That will depend to a large extent on you Carol. For now I am going to leave you to get used to your new home while I go back to work. If when I come home, I find this place wrecked, you’ll get a good hiding and you’ll stay in here until tomorrow; if the place is like it is now, then I’ll bring you a couple of sandwiches and a mug of tea and a blanket. You can see the little bed over there has only a bare mattress and there are no pillows or blankets. If you start to tidy the place up, then you can come upstairs and help cook a meal and sleep in my bed.” I saw her start at this and was about to make a comment but I went on, “Yes, you’ll sleep with me and I’ll play with your body but I will not fuck you for the first couple of days unless you ask me to. I will not rape you but we will sleep naked and body to body. So you’ve three choices and about three hours to think about them.”
“You are a pervert! You’re going to keep me here until I give in and become your sex toy? Pervert!”
“No Carol. Unless your attitude drastically changes, I shall be glad to get rid of you. You’ve ten days with a roof over your head and some food in your belly, after that I’ll give you a little money and you are free to go. However, while you are here, you will do as you are told otherwise you’ll feel my hand, or worse, on your arse. The only thing you can refuse is my cock up your cunt and that only for a couple of days.” I deliberately used coarse language to emphasise my point. “I’m going back to work now. Think on what I’ve said.”
As soon as he left I rushed to the door but as I expected it was locked and there was no chance of breaking it down. I returned to the chair and cried for a short while and then decided to see just what was in the room and the little room next to it in case there was an escape route he’d missed. There wasn’t; just a small room with a toilet that flushed rusty water when I used it, a small bath that had long dead potted plants standing in the bottom, and a washbasin but only the cold water tap worked. The water from that too ran brown at first but it cleared enough for me to have a few sips.
“The facilities would be better in a real prison,” I told myself bitterly. Looking around further, I tested the bed and found the mattress hard and lumpy. There was no way I would wish to sleep on that, with or without a blanket. “It’s none too warm in the cellar now so I guess it will be cold in here at night. But don’t cellars keep cool all the time? Either way you don’t want to spend the night locked down here.” I muttered.
In one corner of the room stood a small table with a china jug and bowl on it. In my anger I picked up the jug and was about to smash it against the wall when I remembered that could earn me a hiding and I had no wish for that. I put it back. “What of the other two choices he gave you Carol? Should you leave things as they are or move things around and make it look tidier? You’re already feeling chilly so you won’t sleep comfortably with just a blanket and on that horrible bed. But if you go upstairs you might be able to get away. Maybe if you have to sleep with him, he won’t fuck you, at least not for a couple of days. He said he wouldn’t but you can’t trust him. He told you he didn’t like you and I can believe that! You’d get a cooked meal though and you haven’t had a proper meal for a couple of days now and you can keep your eyes open for a chance to escape. Escape? But where to?” For well over an hour I sat and debated whether or not to try and tidy the place a bit. As the afternoon wore on the chilly temperature in the room became to make me shiver and partly to keep warm by moving about, I started to rearrange things and wipe the dust off the furniture with a cloth from the bathroom. I didn’t do it willingly and I did it far more roughly than I did in my own home but this was only junk furniture.
“Oh I see you’ve made a start. What else did you do in the three and a half hours I’ve been away?”
His opening remark angered me. “I’ve worked sodding hard to move this bloody furniture. Much of it was too heavy for me to lift and I had to try and drag it a bit at a time. I’m not a big ugly ape like you!”
“You’re just a feeble female.” he grinned. I knew he was taking the piss out of me and I really saw red. Unfortunately, my hand was close to that damned china jug. I grabbed it without thinking and threw it at him. It missed by several feet and smashed on the floor. Immediately I knew I’d made another bad mistake. Still grinning as though it was all a game, slowly he came towards me. I dodged behind a chair, then a table but the inevitable happened; he grabbed my arm. I fought and swore but before long I found myself over his lap with my jeans and knickers down by my ankles. This time he didn’t seem in any hurry to spank me but spent a few minutes massaging my arse and between my legs.
“Perverted kidnapper! This is sexual abuse!” I yelled at him several times as I struggled to free myself from his grasp but he easily held me. Then the slaps and the pain started and I soon regretted abusing him. I hated him and all he stood for. After only about ten, my poor arse felt raw, I started pleading and begging and later I even apologised. His hard hand flattened my buttocks with every hit and I had no idea when he was going to stop. I screamed and cried for a while after the lengthy spanking ended. My poor arse was on fire and the pain seemed almost unbearable. It was indeed very red when I later saw it in the mirror and I knew it would be some time before I could sit easily. For a while I didn’t even try to get up and just let my tears flow and wet the old couch. He didn’t seem to want to let me up anyway but amused himself by massaging my sore nates again. I could feel he had an erection and felt like calling him perverted again but for once I kept quiet. Actually I didn’t find the massage too unpleasant but I didn’t let him know and at the time, the pain overruled all other sensations. I wanted to kill him; I wanted to hurt him, even though he was gentle with me afterwards.
Finally he helped me to my feet and hugged me like I was some naughty child having been punished and now forgiven. I just acquiesced. At least that didn’t hurt. Sometime during my kicking, I lost my jeans and underwear so I was naked from the waist down but I was past caring. “Okay, let’s go and have a shower,” he informed me.
I have to admit I quite enjoyed having the bitch over my lap and feeling my hand forcefully contact her bare arse. Certainly her squirming rubbed my prick and I soon had an erection. I think she noticed it and fortunately it wasn’t enough for me to have an emission. Actually I felt sorry for her as well and when I stood her up, I tried to give her a cuddle but there was no response. I couldn’t blame her for that.
We went upstairs to my big shower. Father was a large man too and he’d installed it for his benefit and I know he and mother often showered together. It would be more than large enough for Carol and me. “Get the rest of your things off,’ I ordered after I’d adjusted the water temperature. She hesitated until I again ordered, “Do it.” At the same time I stripped off my dungarees and the rest of my clothing. My erection had partially subsided but when I turned and saw her tits it started to rise again. She wasn’t bad looking and, had her attitude been more pleasant, I guessed she would have no problems in getting a boyfriend.
“Pervert,” she almost hissed.
“No just the effect an attractive young woman with nice tits has on me,” I smiled but she scowled but I noticed she looked at my prick a good many times during our shower. Despite her objections, I insisted on washing her back and front and eventually she washed my back too. Her arse looked even worse after the warm water had flowed over it but it should have eased the pain a little.
All afternoon I had debated with myself how to treat her. Should I be nice or should I be a bully? I knew I would have to keep control and if necessary punish her but otherwise I decided to try the kindness approach. I had hoped that spanking her wouldn’t be needed but I obviously couldn’t let the jug throwing incident go unpunished. Now I would have my work cut out to get her to accept the sort of firm kindness I visualised.
My dressing gown hung behind the bathroom door. “Do you have one in your bags?” I asked and she nodded. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing her plastic bags sitting on my bed, in my room or maybe it was the realisation that she was helpless to prevent me from doing anything I wanted to her, that caused her to suddenly burst into tears again. I hugged her but at first she just tried to push me away. That was totally ineffective and slowly her resistance ceased and her tears became snuffles.
“I need to find my robe. It’s cold,” she murmured and I released her.
To my surprise, her antagonism abated a little during the cooking of our meal but she still only gave me terse answers to my questions and thinking a glass of red wine would go well with our steaks and perhaps help to mellow her attitude, I poured her a fairly large glass. I did get a thank you for that but not for supplying a cushion for her chair. Later, after we’d cleared away and I’d made a space in my wardrobe for her clothes, we sat in the lounge in front of a wood fire. Putting one arm around her shoulders I pulled her close and then tried putting my other hand inside her robe and play with her breasts. She reacted immediately. Pushing me violently away, she pounded me with her fists and crying, began cursing me again, called me all the vilest names she could think of. Normally I wouldn’t hear language like that from workers in my garage and yet she thought herself so much above us. It riled me.
I suppose it was the finality of putting my stuff in his wardrobe that brought home to me that I was now dependent on him; he as good as owned me and I would have to do his bidding. “You’re going to be his sex toy now. A toy for that big ape; the ape that had brutally thrashed you. Sooner or later he’s going to fuck you with that big prick of his whether you want to or not. You’ve never had one as big as that so I guess it will bring more pain. Shit, you’re sore enough now. The meal was good though and you ate more than you normally did even if it was a man’s meal. At least your belly is full now but I expect it will be even fuller when he puts that prick of his into it. Oh shit, how did I ever get myself into this state? Here it comes, man mountain wants to play with his new toy, just let him try! He won’t find it easy!” Using both fists, I punched his chest and swore at him over and over again. He looked shocked but I didn’t know if it was from the words I used or the ferocity of my attack. I can’t remember exactly what I said but I know I ended with, “And don’t think I’m ever going to be your sex slave, because I’m not. Not now, not ever.”
Of course the inevitable happened. He grabbed me around the waist and slung me over his shoulder and when I still continued to try and hit him, he slapped my arse a couple of times. Even through my robe, I felt them.
I’d really had enough of her nonsense by that time and had no illusions that things would improve. “She was a bitch, she is a bitch, she always will be a bitch,” I told myself as I lugged her down to the cellar and tossed her roughly on to the bed. “Make yourself at home here. If you can’t give an inch, neither can I. Spend the evening thinking about what you can do now. I’ve had enough of you. I only took you in to please Lynda and I did think we might have a little fun together for a few days until you found yourself a job and a place of your own. I can phone Seb Blakelock in the morning, he’s always looking out for girls but I don’t know if even he will take you on. The girls he pimps need to have some rapport with punters.” I deliberately laid it on thick to try and shake her out of her complacency but I doubted it would work. She was crying again now but the swearing had ceased and I wondered if some of the words had penetrated to her brain but I had no means of knowing. “Think about it Carol, think long and hard. I’ll bring you a hot drink down before I go to bed and I’ll also bring a blanket. It seems that the option of spending the night with me was definitely not to your liking. You can gather your belongings in the morning and piss off out of my life. You don’t want to accept my help and I can do without the agro.”
“Bastard! It’s the payments you’re demanding that I can’t accept!” She flung the words and me with hatred.
At first I seethed with anger but as the cold began to get to me I curled up on the mattress and began to feel sorry for myself. I guess it was about an hour later when I began to shiver from the cold, that I took a more realistic stock of my situation. “Carol, you’re a stupid cunt. If you’d have let him play with you for a bit, you’d be in a warm room with a decent bed to sleep in. Now you’ll be lucky to get a blanket. And he’s going to throw you out in the morning. You’ll be on the streets again with no job, no money and no roof over your head – and it will be colder than this if you have spend the night outside – all you possess is in three plastic bags, or they will be when you take them out of his wardrobe. What then? Who will you turn to for help? Bloody Lynda won’t. She virtually gave you to the ape. God, it’s getting bloody cold. If I plead with him when he brings the blanket, perhaps he’ll relent and let me sleep in the house. No he’ll want me to sleep with him and you know what that means. Being his sex toy. Would that be so bad?” In the end I didn’t get the choice.
I was really cold when he brought the hot chocolate down and then went back up and brought a down sleeping bag and a pillow to me. “I know I said I’d only bring a blanket but it gets very cold down here when the heat is not on. You should be warm enough in this though. I’ve camped out in winter in it so I know it’s okay and it’s big enough for me so you should be able to curl up in it. That’s the best I can do for now, we’ll discuss your future over breakfast. Good night.” With that remark he went back upstairs and I heard the key turn in the lock. I wasn’t given a chance to plead but at least the sleeping bag would be relatively warm even if the bed was hard and lumpy.
As the warmth came back to me, I dozed for a while but sometime in the night I awoke and again reviewed my position. “This cellar is primitive but better than a cardboard box in a doorway. Perhaps he will allow me to stay here? Would he still want sex as payment? Would that be so bad? You’re not a virgin for heavens sake. Will he thrash me again? Probably if I fight him or throw stuff around. I’ll stand a better chance of getting a job if I have a proper address. But who will employ me. He won’t give me a reference. Not after I pinched his money even though he got most of it back.” So the arguments raged within myself. In the end I conceded that my best option was to sleep with him and let him keep me but I still rebelled against that. I didn’t want to be the one to give in.
At some unearthly hour I heard the door open and he brought a mug of tea down. Coffee would have been my preference but I decided to accept it and even said, “Thank you.” “Come upstairs when you’ve finished your tea and you can use the bathroom and dress. Breakfast in half an hour so don’t spend too long putting stuff on your face.”
“Tea and breakfast Carol, you won’t get that if you spend the night on the streets. Try and be nice to him until you can find somewhere better.” Surprisingly he didn’t even look in while I was in the bathroom and it was only when he called out, “Breakfast in five minutes,” that I noticed it. “Perhaps he is preparing to chuck you out. Maybe you will have to use all your wiles to let you stay for a few more days.” “I’ll be right down,” I called back.
Normally coffee serves as breakfast but today bacon and egg and toast with marmalade were on the menu. “If you are going to be thrown out, you’d better fill yourself up, girl. No telling where the next meal will come from. Wonder what he has planned?” I had to wait until we both sat supping another cup of tea and then he threw the ball at me.
“What have you decided to do Carol?”
“I don’t know sir.” I thought adding the sir, would put me in his good books but the reverse was the case.
“I’m not a sir, I’m just an ordinary working man. I’m just George.”
“Sorry,” I managed to apologise, “I don’t know what to do. I’ll have to try and get a job to get enough money to find a place to stay. Even the YMCA costs a fair bit each night.” I hesitated and put on a pleading voice, “Could I use the cellar for a day or two…please?”
“What about the rent for that?”
From the way he smiled I knew the sort of payments he would expect and my blood temperature rose but then he didn’t seem to be considering it an option. “Carol, let’s face it. You hate my guts and I’m not overly keen on you. What’s the point in prolonging the agony? Had you been willing last night, maybe, just maybe, we could have worked something out. You’re a thief, one that not only takes money but ones that takes everything it can from people’s lives without giving anything in return. So why should I even consider keeping you? Why shouldn’t I throw you and your bags out this morning?”
Tears flowed again. “You really are that callous?”
“Are you really that much of a thief?” It took me a little while to work out what he meant and then I shook my head.
“Tell you what I’ll do,” he said, “I’ll give you one more free night in the cellar and I’ll drop you off at the job centre on my way to work.”
Lynda came to see me at lunchtime and I more or less told her what happened. “Try and keep her George. I think she’ll come round eventually. For now she’s too used to getting her own way. The spanking you gave her for stealing your money still rankles and I guess the one you gave her last night didn’t help. She knows she deserved them but she won’t admit it to you or even to herself and she’s still out to get her own back if she can. She hates to acknowledge that you have the upper hand. Perhaps I can come round tonight and have a few words with her?”
“You’re welcome to try but she believes you’re the bitch who sold her to me,” I replied.
“By-the-way,” she added, “You may get a visit from Mike Robinson. He heard about her stealing from you but he couldn’t do anything about it because you didn’t press charges. He called at her flat to have a word with her and found she’d been thrown out so he came to me to find out where she is staying. She’s supposed to report any change of address.”
“I thought you said she wasn’t to come near this place. Now she tells me she’s living with you.” Rosie’s voice betrayed her anger. She’d escorted Carol to my workplace about 4 p.m. that afternoon.
“I’ve taken her in for a few days after she got thrown out of her flat.”
“And so you could get into her knickers I suppose,” she snorted disapprovingly and walked away.
I had to smile and then asked Carol how she got on.
“Filled in loads of forms for jobs I don’t have a hope in hell of getting. Probably won’t even get an interview for any of them.” She paused and went on, “I just can’t bloody win. I need a job so I have money and don’t need to steal; I need to steal because I don’t have any money. What am I supposed to do? … Don’t answer that!”
Ted, my assistant on the job laughed outright.
Mike and Lynda turned up together that evening. In his official capacity as probation officer, Mike disapproved when Carol told him that I was demanding sex as payment for rent. I tried to point out that she was just going to be a live-in partner and men and women who lived together had sex. He chose to ignore it much to Carol’s disappointment; she thought she might get some money out of sexual blackmail charges. Carol took Lynda to the cellar and I knew it was to try and gain a bit of sympathy from her over the conditions in which she was expected to live. I left them to it.
“That bitch Lynda seemed to think it was fine for me to live in squalor and she even knew that I only had to open my legs for him and I could share his bed and his life. Hell, she would even have approved if I did become a prostitute! I thought she was my friend but now I can see that she just wanted me for what she could get out of our relationship. Then the ape reminded me this was the last free night. As if I had forgotten. Pity bloody Mike didn’t have him for sexual harassment. These guys must look after each other. George will probably repair his car free next time. Suppose it’s not all bad. Had another good meal and he’s not locked the cellar door. Is it because he trusts me to use the kitchen and bathroom or so he can slip down quietly? I’ll scratch his eyeballs out if he starts anything. You’re joking girl. You know you’ll end up being spanked again. What are you going to do tomorrow? Stay and get fucked? Be his fuck toy? Clear out and take potluck. Maybe look around the house if I get a chance to see what money’s lying around. I could hitch-hike to Deschurch and maybe find work there.” Again it took a long while to get to sleep.
The thought of him demanding to fuck me still made my blood boil and I decided to risk getting caught for stealing again. George was quite calm when I told him I was leaving and why and as it wasn’t far to the main Deschurch road, he drove off in the van. Even gave me a twenty pound note. Unbeknown to him I secretly unlatched the front door after he’d locked it so I could let myself in again. In his bedroom I found a wallet with £250 so I pocketed it and knew I was set up for a few days.
While searching for money, in the wardrobe I saw his big rucksack, decorated with badges from around the world,. “You’ll have a job hitchhiking with the black bin bags so why not take his bloody rucksack. If you’re caught it won’t make any difference. They’ll do you for the money anyway.” I packed it with the things I thought were most important and decided to leave the two other bags at Lynda’s for her to store. I knew she and boyfriend would be at work so I would pin a note and leave them outside her back door.
What with one thing and another it was nearly midday before I got to the main road. Much as I detested them, I figured the best place to get a lift was at the transport café about a mile further down the road. Even in that short distance, the rucksack seemed to get heavier but I made it there and being near lunchtime the place was crowded. I bought a cup of an atrocious tasting coffee and found a seat near the door where I could watch the drivers come and go. When I’d been there about half an hour, a smart looking van pulls up and an elderly man jumps out, walks inside and buys a pack of fags. He hesitates when he sees my pack and as he looks clean enough, I put my tits out a bit. Risky I knew but I hadn’t seen anyone else in there that I might trust. They nearly all drove huge container lorries which I guessed would bypass Deschurch and carry on to Dornton Port. I was disappointed when he walked out to his van without a word to me.
A group of three men of various ages came in, bought lunch and ate it at a nearby table. They kept looking in my direction and, while I wasn’t keen on going in a van with three men, I was getting desperate and told myself there was safety in numbers. How wrong I was.
“That can’t be her,” I muttered to the man sitting alongside me in the recovery vehicle. He was a stranger that had taken a corner too fast and slid his car into a concrete post. The car was now hauled up the back of the vehicle and I was headed home to the garage. “It is her,” I muttered again and pulled over. The woman dragging a rucksack from the side road was definitely Carol. And there could only be one rucksack in the world like that; mine! How had she obtained it? At first I felt only anger that she’d stolen it but then I realised something was wrong with her. She obviously saw me and looked around for somewhere to run but she only limped to the side of the road. When I caught up with her, I could see her clothes were torn and there was a bruise forming on her face, I knew she’d been in trouble. “You should have warned her before she left about taking lifts from strangers,” I berated myself but at the time I was almost too pleased to be rid of her. Seeing her distressed state, all I said was, “Get in the cab Carol.” She hesitated. “Do it!” I ordered, “You can explain later.” I picked up the rucksack. It was open at the top and only half full and I guessed it had been ransacked. It was with some feeling of remorse, I watched as she cried and limped to the cab. My passenger got out and helped her into the rear seat. “Don’t ask,’ I said in reply to the questioning look in his eyes.
Fifteen minutes later I parked on the garage forecourt and told Ted and Harry to put the wrecked car on the lift to assess the damage ready for the insurance claim. Carol still cried in the back. I lifted her out and carried her into my office. Rosie followed me in. Fortunately we’d been able to get a replacement for Carol in the shop fairly easily. In fact the woman had worked there in my father’s time and left to have a couple of kids and now they were at school, she could return to work part time. Rosie’s attitude to Carol underwent a dramatic change when she saw her condition. She looked at me in an accusing way until I said, “It wasn’t me. I found her alongside the road.”
“They raped me…They took…”
“I’ll phone the police.” Rosie went to my phone but Carol put her hand on it.
“I shall just get into even more trouble.”
“Leave it Rosie until we’ve cleaned her up and heard what she has to say.”
Carol collapsed into a chair and then with what I knew was a great effort for her said, “I’m sorry George, so sorry.” Her hand went to her back pocket and pulled out my wallet. “They took it all… they hurt me…they raped me in the van…three of them…I’m sorry… I’m sorry…Hand me to the police if you want…” There was a long pause and both Rosie and I realised why she didn’t want us to report the rape. “…Punish me if you want.” She burst into floods of tears again. “Help me please.”
“Out you go George, I’ll clean this young lady up and see if there is anything that needs hospital treatment. You go and look at that car you brought in. I’ll call you when we’re ready. It’s near closing time anyway.” Rosie gave me my marching orders and I thought she might find out more than if I was there.
George had a small bathroom attached to his office and Rosie took me there. It amazed me that she was even going to try and help. I would have expected her to throw me out on the street without a second thought. But no, she very carefully removed my sweater and shirt and noticed the marks on my tits. “They kept my bra and knickers as souvenirs,” I tried to explain but she was more concerned with my injuries. Carefully she washed my face and body with antibacterial handwash that George used. Not what I would have chosen but at least she didn’t use his ‘Ruff Scrub’ that was also by the sink. I started crying again, more at her kindness than from the pain. “Stop that, I’ve just cleaned your face,” she reprimanded me in a quiet motherly way and then asked, “Would you mind if I looked down there?” indicating my jeans. Like a zombie I agreed.
“Oh my God, you poor dear.” I hadn’t really looked at my legs and cunt when I pulled my jeans on after they’d thrown me out of the van. Now I could see the marks they’d left and I expected my arse would still be a little red from the spanking. It had faded a bit when I left this morning but was still visible. Perhaps she’d think it was chafe from the van. “Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked but I shook my head. Any explanation would have to come later and she didn’t press me. ‘They must have used condoms,” she remarked as she cleaned me down there.
“One of them mentioned DNA testing and got out a box of Mates.” I really don’t know why I gave out that information.
Dressing again was a painful operation but eventually I was ‘respectable’ again and expected her to call George back but instead she made a cup of instant coffee and handed it to me. I rightly guessed I was in for a lecture but it was pretty short. “Carol, as you know George and I are pretty close. He’s like a son to me so I don’t like seeing him hurt. He might be a big man physically but he’s easily hurt emotionally. Please don’t take him for a ride again. He doesn’t deserve that. Several times he’s tried to help you and each time you’ve done the dirty on him. I know he wanted to get into your knickers but he’s a man and you as good as offered yourself to him and then failed to deliver. Don’t do it again, please.” She waited for an answer but I didn’t give her one; my mind was still too confused. “Shall I ask George to come back in or do you want to quietly disappear?”
Disappear? Hell where could I go to with no money and feeling like hell? “I’d better face the music,” I whispered not knowing if the music would be the sound of his hand on my arse. He might have some sympathy for me after what I’d been through but I had taken his money and lost it. He’d spanked me before for stealing and I didn’t doubt he would see it as his duty to do so again. But afterwards?
“He’s got to be with the customer for another ten minutes or so,” Rosie informed me, “Betty’s closing up the shop now but I’ll hang on in my office until George comes in. It’ll give you a little more time to make up your mind.” I knew that part of the reason for her staying was to see I didn’t pinch anything but I sensed there was more to it than that. Perhaps she did genuinely want me to consider my options.
“Options? Do you really have any? Apart from being his whore? Apart from being beaten and then becoming his whore? If you quietly slip away, you’ve nowhere to go and could end up in a worse mess. Look what happened to you today. At least with him you will have a roof over your head and food in your belly. And his prick too. Perhaps you can appeal to his better nature? No whining might make it worse. Accept what he dishes out. Fighting will only make it worse girl.” I waited until he came back.
“Get in the van then Carol.” That was all he said until he started the engine and then he asked, “Do you wish to be dropped off somewhere or are you coming to the house?”
“The house if I may,” I answered in a small voice.
“You know what to expect?”
I nodded and whispered, “ A spanking…” I hesitated to acknowledge my being forced to be his sex plaything and before I spoke the words he shocked me by saying, “Yes, I’ll do that first and get it over with. You can then stay in the cellar as long as you like without payment of any kind provided there is no more stealing.” I must have looked surprised because he repeated it and added, “We can clear it a bit more at the weekend and sort the heating out. I’m not going to blackmail you into sex or threaten to go to the police over my stolen money. The cellar is yours without conditions.”
This was a whole new ball game. I wasn’t being forced into having sex with him so now I could consider giving it freely. Neither of us spoke for the rest of the journey. “It’s not locked.” He indicated the cellar door. I’d dumped my, or rather his, rucksack on the kitchen floor.
“Please George… please… can I pay for a proper bed?”
To my consternation he picked me up and gave be a hug. I squealed because my tits were still sore from the mauling the men had given them. “There’s no compulsion now Carol. The room downstairs is free but if you come to bed with me, you can guess what will happen.”
“I’ll pay for a bed,” I whispered.
Her volunteering to sleep with me, took me by surprise and I half wondered if it was a ploy to get out of her punishment but in the end I decided to take it at face value and go ahead with her spanking. “Go downstairs and get ready,” I ordered. Again to my surprise, she went although I could see tears welling up in her eyes. Five minutes later I went down and found her sitting naked on the bed. I was appalled by the marks on her tits and thighs. Obviously her rape had been a pretty rough affair. Her arse was still rather red and tender from the attention I’d given it previously and I wondered what Rosie made of that. I considered waiving the punishment but thought that might influence her if she ever thought of stealing again.
She spoke hesitantly. “Before you do it, can I just say I’m sorry I took your money and I’m not saying that to get you to be lenient with me. I really am sorry but at the time I didn’t know what else to do. I will try and get a job and pay you back… I really will.”
“Let’s get it over with Carol.” I gave her a dozen hard ones on each cheek of her bum and then stood her between my legs and hugged her. “That’s half of what you should have had. I’m holding the other half in reserve against your good behaviour. Now go and have a shower.” Her eyes were running and I knew her arse was sore but she took the spanking without too much yelling, much less than the time I walloped her at her flat.
I expected to receive a real hard beating this time and he did indeed hit with a good deal of power but I gritted my teeth and tried to remain calm and not kick and struggle like I did the last twice. I wanted him to know that I was sorry for what I’d done. However after a fairly short while, when I was just about to start crying out loud with the pain, he stopped. I didn’t believe it could be all over and thought perhaps he was going to spank my front or something but no, he just told me to get a shower and he would save the rest against my good behaviour. Although I could feel his hardness through his overalls, he didn’t make any attempt to fuck me. That pleased me as I was still sore from my earlier rape and now with a sore arse, I felt as though I was in pain everywhere. Limping up the stairs, I luxuriated in the warm shower until I heard him come in. “Leave some hot water for me,” he called out and I could see him undressing. Again he made no attempt to molest me. Nor did he for the rest of the evening although he did put his arm around me while we watched TV. I began to wonder if he actually found me too objectionable. But no, he waited until we were in bed and then he started playing with me and rubbing my clit in little circles until I was wet and dribbling down my legs and then he slowly pushed that pole of his inside me. It hurt more from the soreness of my earlier fucks than from its size, but it wasn’t too bad and I’d promised him. In the end I got to enjoy it and began to gently fuck back at him until I climaxed and he shot his load. I wondered why I’d objected so strongly to doing so earlier.
As we lay in the afterglow, I reiterated my intention of paying his money back and asked if he could help me to get a job. “You can work for me,” he stated.
That flummoxed me. “Won’t Rosie object?”
“Probably but you wouldn’t be working in the shop or office, you’d work in the garage itself. You’d be one of the workmen.”
“You are joking!” But I could tell he wasn’t. “Think about it. You turn your nose up at workmen and yet you have no experience of their life. You’ve never gotten your hands dirty with honest work so you have no idea of the satisfaction gained from doing a job and doing it well.”
I resisted taking the job for over a week but as all other opportunities proved fruitless, I discussed it with him again. By then he fucked me most nights and I’d begun to enjoy our relationship. “You’d be a sort of mature apprentice at first, mainly doing menial tasks but as you become more accomplished you could end up with the same status as Ted or Harry. You’d have to start on minimum wage but with no rent to pay that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Sure,” I replied. Quarter of an hour later I told Lynda, “Alternator relay is shot. Do you want me to fit a new one or will you do it yourself?” I knew I’d get the job because Lynda hadn’t a clue about doing it. I went to see Rosie to get the parts. “Hi,” she greeted me with a smile, “How was your weekend?”
It hadn’t always been like that. I remembered the reception I had from her the first time I came to work here and when Lynda, who I regarded as a friend, seemingly turned against me.
Finis
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