1 comments/ 179418 views/ 14 favorites Office Staff Ch. 1 By: lynm35 Judith entered the office and closed the door behind her, as she had been bidden. She was a bit surprised to see that Helen was already seated before James' desk; he had not mentioned that anyone else would be in the meeting – but then again, he hadn't said very much about the session at all. James watched her walk across the room, and indicated with a wave of his hand that she should be seated next to Helen. This was all very curious: late afternoon, almost everyone had gone home already. And she had never been called into a meeting with Helen before, even although they both worked in accounts. Of course, her role was not to question, just to do; but it was strange. James watched her sit down, openly appraising her. Of course that was no surprise: he was known as a hard-driven self-made man who tended to get what he wanted, and the rumour was that this extended beyond the boundaries of business. When he spoke, one listened, especially as he owned the company. He leaned forward engagingly. "Thank you both for making the time. I have no doubt you will find it was worth joining me. And I must say", he laughed, "it's always a pleasure to have two such attractive women in my office." Both women acknowledged the compliment ruefully with a smile. "You'll forgive me", he said, "if I take a moment to check on my records? Let me know if I have missed anything, ok?" He opened two files, and laid them across the table in front of him. "Right then – Helen", he said glancing up at her briefly, before looking down at her file. "Let's see. Married two years, your husband unemployed, right?" She nodded. "By all accounts you are financially a bit unstable – forgive me if this is a bit personal – aside from your direct remuneration, the company has also assisted you with some loans, am I correct?" She nodded. "That's true, sir. My mother lives with me and she had some medical problems. I've been paying it off though – I haven't missed a payment." "Your mother and your husband both depending on your salary. It must be very difficult for you." She nodded. "Hmm. I understand. Judith", he said turning towards her. "By all accounts, your circumstance is no easier, is it?" She shook her head, wondering where this was going. "Let's see – single mother, son just starting school. The father doesn't help?" "He disappeared a while ago", she said. "Even if I found him, I don't think he'd do much to help." "I see. I am sorry to hear that. Both of you seem to have been treated a bit unfairly by life, wouldn't you say? I suppose life can be harsh – I know that when I started it was incredibly difficult. No money, no background, very little support. Of course, you look at the company now and it seems to be an established success; but it took a long time to get here. Many hours. Many sacrifices. Including my wife, who finally walked out about five years ago, as you may know. "It is difficult to get along without that companionship. You miss it. I miss it. I miss that female softness, you understand?" The two women nodded. "So you see", he continued, "I am sympathetic to the price that we have to pay to get by. I am certainly not indifferent to the hardships we endure. But there is one difference between us, you see." He paused before stating the next sentence. "I never stole from my employer. And I never got caught." Judith's heart sank, the same thought running through her mind over and over "OMIGOD OMIGOD OMIGOD". Helen sat so calmly, that she wondered whether he was right. Helen smiled and said slowly: "I beg your pardon?" "Don't make it worse by lying, Helen. We both know that I could show you the evidence if I have to. At least Judith's face is a confession of it's own." "I'm so sorry", whispered Judith. "It's ironical", said James. "If either one of you had done this on your own, I would never have noticed. But two of you, together – it collectively became too large to miss. And neither one of you knew about the other! You do admit it, don't you?" he asked Helen. After a moment's silence she nodded once. "Good", he said. "Now we're making progress, I think. You have to understand some things. This is not a public company. This is MY company. You weren't stealing from shareholders: you have been stealing from ME. From me. "Some housekeeping is needed, I suppose. One hates to sound melodramatic, but you must realise that I have the proof, and that it is in a safe place. If you got any wild schemes about stealing it, or even worse, about getting me out of the way, it won't help. It would only assure that the proof becomes public. I must tell you that I really feel as if I am in a b-grade movie saying this." He laughed, with real merriment. But I want you to understand quite clearly how much of a predicament you are in." Helen suddenly sighed deeply, once, and bent forward to put her head on the desk. Judith's mouth was dry, and her hands trembled visibly. "If I chose to, you would both be arrested – and then, Helen, your poor mother. And Judith – your poor son. What would become of them?" "What do you want?" said Helen. James opened a drawer in his desk, and surprisingly withdrew a bottle of whisky and three tumblers. As he poured the alcohol liberally into them he said: "Fate has presented me with a unique opportunity. Two attractive, young, nubile women, dependent upon my good grace." He pushed the glasses across the desk. "Take a drink – it'll calm your nerves. You could also look upon this as a blessing for you. You must both have been living on your nerves, wondering if I would find out. Of course you won't be able to steal any more money, but if you choose to reach an accommodation with me you should have no immediate fear of prosecution." Judith was still too shocked to speak, but Helen stared across the desk in undisguised contempt. "You bastard", she hissed. "Oh no", he said. "Is that all you could come up with? I really had thought that you could come up with something more vociferous than that. Anyway – you placed yourselves in this predicament, not me. And if you choose to follow the legal process I will understand. I can hand this over to the authorities in the morning. Is that what you want?" "No" spat Helen. "No" whispered Judith. "Excellent. Then I can say that we agree to engage upon an erotic adventure together?" "What kind of adventure?" "Well – I have some interests I'd like to explore. It would destroy the surprise if I had to go into too much detail now, wouldn't you say?" The women sat in silence, both coming to terms with what James had said. "And there's no time like the present to start. I'm certainly ready – I have my video camera!" He pointed to the device, standing on a stand next to him, facing them, ready. "That is – if you both agree of course." "What choice do we have?" snapped Helen. He didn't reply, just waited. Eventually she angrily agreed: "Yes!" "Wonderful. Judith?" Judith nodded submissively, her eyes downcast. He leaned back, smiling, took a slow sip from his tumbler. "Do you girls know each other?" Helen shrugged. "A bit. We've seen each other around the offices, but that's about all." "Hmm. We're all going to get to now one another very well. Intimately in fact." He leaned forward, put down his glass and sat with elbows on the table. "I am so glad", he began, "that you both choose to wear skirts rather than trousers. I have been watching, you see. Judith – why don't you tell us what underwear are you wearing at the moment?" As he spoke, he reached up and depressed a switch on the video recorder – she realised with a sense of horror that she she was now on camera. Judith jumped, startled. She looked across at Helen, almost as if she was asking for guidance, then looked away. "Don't be shy, Judith – that time passed when you first stole my money. You did steal my money, didn't you?" "Yes." "So tell us about your underwear. We're both waiting." After a pause: "Well – it's just a normal bra and panty." "Yes? What colour? Material? " "White. Cotton." "Ah. Virginal white. And are you a natural blonde all over as well?" "Yes". A whisper now. "So you have blonde pussy hair?" "Yes." "Say it." A strangled sound came from deep in her throat. She was blushing furiously now. He repeated his words: "Say it." One could barely hear the words. "I have blonde pussy hair." "Louder. And look at the camera when you say it." She looked up slowly, hands now trembling. "I have blonde pussy hair." Helen could no longer contain herself: "Why are you torturing her like this?" James turned his attention to her. "The games are just beginning, Helen. You're a brunette. Very attractive, straight hair, down to your shoulders. I'm sure you are brunette all over?" "What do you think?" "I think you're a vibrant, strong woman, with healthy needs. I wouldn't be surprised if you satisfied those needs on your own sometimes, when nobody is around to assist. That's what I think." She stared at him, suddenly speechless. "Your silence gives you away, Helen. You like to touch, don't you? To open your legs, to explore with your fingers. My only question is, do you do it on private only, or have you ever done it in public? At work perhaps, slid your hand up your skirt behind your desk where nobody can see, slipped your panties to one side? What colour are those panties, Helen?" "Blue." "To the camera." "Blue!" "Dark blue? Powder blue?" "Powder blue." He laughed out loud. "This is really priceless! Such innocent colours for you both! Stand up and lift your skirts, both of you! I want to see them!" The women looked at each other nervously, unsure how to proceed. "Come on come on! Stop wasting time! Stand up!" They slowly raised themselves from the chairs, stood nervously alongside one another. "Good! Now pulls up those hems so I can see your panties!" Judith was the first to lean over, find the hem and draw it achingly slowly up her legs. She held it bunched under her elbow like a toddler so that her white panties could clearly be seen, ballooned slightly in front by her pubic hair. Helen watched her, then resignedly leant forward and did the same. In contrast, her panties were almost transparent, and James sighed as her dark patch showed through the material, atop a clear open triangle at the top of her legs. He rose from his chair and walked around the desk until he stood before the two women, showing themselves for his pleasure. He sat on the edge of his desk, lowering himself for a clearer view. "Don't move", he said, then slipped his fingers into the top elastic, pulling their panties forward so he could look down the front. Emboldened, he turned his hand, palm flat against their bellies and slowly slid his fingers into their panties, fingers furrowing through pubic hair until they reached pussy lips. The women both responded by pulling their hips away slightly, but he pulled them forward by their panties, and then opened their pussy lips with his fingers, feeling moisture, heat, hearing both of them catch their breaths, sigh. He searched gently for their clitori, massaging, watching their faces, listening to their synchronous breathing, controlling their responses. "Seduction is about wanting, waiting, teasing", he said. "This is just the beginning." He withdrew his hands, knowing that the two women had been more aroused than they would care to admit. "Tomorrow is when we really begin. Make sure that you have the entire evening free. But to ensure that you don't forget, I want you to swap panties. Take yours off, and put each other's on. Do it now." Still breathing heavily, they slowly started to obey, bending over slipping the underthings down, passing them abashedly to one another, then stepping into and pulling the still warm material up their legs. Their embarrassment was clearly tinged with the hint of sex, of enjoyment. James had no doubt that Helen would relive this later in private, and remember it with pleasure. "You enjoyed putting each other's panties on, didn't you? Don't forget", he said. "Tomorrow night is mine." Office Staff Ch. 2 The next morning the two women barely acknowledged one another, preferring to avert their eyes as they passed in the corridors; but by mid-morning Helen walked up to Judith's desk at a point when they were alone and wordlessly placed the now washed and dried underwear quietly on her desk. Judith quickly covered them with her hands, and said quietly: "Thank you. I'll have yours here tomorrow." Helen wandered off without another word, but as Judith watched her retreating back, brunette hair flowing down to cover her shoulders, she wondered what lay in store for them that evening. By the time James called them into his office in the late afternoon, both women already felt drained of energy, mouths dry, stomachs fluttering. The experience of the previous evening had succeeded in filling them with apprehension. He, on the other hand, was confident, friendly and engaging. The office had also been changed: the women both noted with mounting dread that a large couch had been pulled into a corner, and he directed them to sit on it. This placed them alongside one another, like mannequins on display. He sat on the edge of the desk facing them, and seemed to tower above them. Alongside the couch were coffee tables, and again there were tumblers, liberally filled with Whisky. He waved at the drinks and spoke expansively: "Drink! Working hours are over. Time for fun!" Predictably, the women had no comment, but obediently took small, cautious sips from the glass rims. "There really is no need to be afraid of me", he smiled, speaking softly. "This is going to be an adventure for us all. Of course it is out of your control – I understand that. But I would like it to be mutually enjoyable. In a strange way, that's really quite magnanimous of me, don't you think? I don't recall you being this considerate of me when you decided to steal my money." It was obvious that the reminder had been used to emphasize the helplessness of their situation, but it probably was not necessary – they sat in subdued silence, and took another sip when he implied with a gesture that they should do so. Helen's resentment was clear, though, but James seemed not to notice. Instead he started to engage them in seemingly meaningless smalltalk. They discussed their respective jobs, answering his questions uncertainly. He moved the conversation onto their private lives, seeming quite kind and thoughtful; but the whisky was being consumed quickly now, and as the words seemed to flow more easily each woman became aware that it was having an effect. At some point James took out his video camera, holding it in his hands now, pointing it at each woman as she spoke, but it seemed less threatening. James pulled up an office chair and faced the women directly. He leaned forward as he spoke. "In your own way, you are both very attractive women. You would agree with me, wouldn't you?" Judith laughed selfconsciously. "Oh I wouldn't say that! Helen is, but I'm just plain." "Don't be silly!", exclaimed Helen in a time-old ritual. "You look stunning. Your eyes are perfect." "You don't need to say that!", dismissed Judith; but James stopped her. "No Helen – carry on. What makes Judith attractive?" Helen spoke almost without thinking. "Well – she has beautiful hair, a nice curl, full body. My hair is so-o-o straight, I struggle to bring it to life. Her green eyes with that blonde colour – it catches everyone's eye." Realising what she had said, she suddenly, shyly stopped, and then both women broke out into girlish, silly laughter. "Now it's your turn Judith. Do you find Helen attractive?" Judith smiled and nodded. "Sure. How do you keep your body so trim? I have one slice of cake and I just bulge all over!" "Sure – but I don't get those boobs!" laughed Helen. "All I have are these bumps!" "You don't have to jog with them you mean. They're not the easiest of things to handle!" "Interesting", said James. "I can tell you that from this side of the camera you're both quite stunning. Especially in that formal office clothing. Anyway – enough time spent on loose chatting – time to get down to more intimate business, don't you think? "I've spent some time thinking about tonight, and I've decided to keep it quite simple. It's still really an introductory session. The camera still has to get to know you because it really didn't record too much detail last night, and you have to get to know each other." The women glanced at one another at this point. "So we're going to do three things tonight. We've already established that you find each other attractive – but it'll be interesting for me to watch you exploring that a bit more by kissing each other. Have you ever intimately kissed another woman? No? Then you're going to undress one another, and the camera will explore the similarities and differences between your bodies. And finally, you're going to rub some of this oil" – he produced a bottle from a drawer – "onto one another. By the end of the evening you will have crossed new boundaries in your understanding of each other." Helen snapped back at him: "I'm not into women!" "Nobody said you were", responded James. I only said that you were going to engage in some experimentation with me. The only choice you have is whether you kiss Judith here, or learn to kiss women in jail." He laughed out loud. "I'd prefer to do it here, but it's your choice." He turned to Judith. "Judith – do you have any objections?" Some discomfort showed on her face. "It's not something I've ever wanted to do", she murmured. "I can understand", he said. "But you know – I'm a customer that you have to please now. And you may find that it's more pleasurable than you expected. You both admitted that you found one another attractive, after all." "That's not the same thing!" said Helen. "Well. You have only one choice ladies. Which is it to be?" The two women looked uncomfortably at one another. At some point in the prolonged silence they seemed to come to an understanding. Judith was the first to tentatively lean over and bring her lips towards Helen, staring into her eyes with a mixture of uncertainty and fear. Finally, their mouths touched softly, the beginnings of a tentative exploration. James was moving closer with the video camera, recording their first moments of intimacy, moving around to get a more comprehensive picture. After soft, hesitant moments they drew apart, Helen's glance slipping away to the floor as she took a drink of whisky. James smiled. "That was wonderful", he said. "That was more erotic than you can imagine." The women's hearts were both pounding after the new experience. Helen put her drink down, glanced fleetingly into Judith's eyes, which had remained transfixed on her face. "Real lovers do more than that, though. Lovers share the intimacy of a deeper infatuation. Lover's tongues dance for long minutes. Kiss again – but this time with passion." It seemed easier this time: the women leaned towards one another, eyes open at first, then closed as their lips parted and their tongues met. Helen felt her heart pounding, her reluctance undermined by the whisky, her senses contaminated by the closeness of Judith, her gentle scent, the palpable rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the softness of her cheek as they brushed together, the tenderness of her palm now pressed against Helen's hair, the slow searching of her tongue. When Helen opened her eyes momentarily, it was to find Judith watching her with an emotive intensity, a private shared familiarity. James voice was barely discernible now, but the silence was so intense that it didn't have to be: "Now touch each other's tits." Their eyes were open as Judith took Helen's hand and raised it slowly to her own breast, then trailed her fingers across Helen's forearm as she reached across and cupped Helen's breast, feeling the ribbing of the embroidery on the brassiere, the gentle rise of the nipple in the cup of her palm. A shiver slipped through Helen's frame, the softest murmur escaping her lips, the deeply erotic sound filling the space between them. She found her hand taking the weight of Judith's breast, exploring the contour and the malleability, squeezing, feeling, watching it change under her manipulations. "Now take off each other's blouses." Helen took the lead for the first time, reaching for the top button and undoing it clumsily at first, then with more ease at each successive attempt. Judith's bra came slowly into view, showing deep, soft cleavage. Judith, in her turn, undid Helen's buttons and took the opportunity to slip her hand under the material of the blouse, stroking the fabric of the bra, feeling the nub of the nipple hardening. It was evident to all three of them that this had gone beyond a posed pretence for the women: their bodies leaned towards each other, their breathing deeper and less measured, their eyes attentive to the subtleties of each movement. Both blouses slipped down over their shoulders now, sliding into shapeless puddles on the chair, and the women faced each other in brassieres and skirts only, occasionally kissing, hands, fingers stroking exposed flesh. James only had to watch as Judith's hands found the clips of Helen's bra and drew it open so that her breasts were exposed to them both. Helen pulled her hands back, covered herself momentarily, but Judith smiled and gently pulled them away. Helen's breasts were quite small, barely moving as her body swayed, with pale, pointed nipples. James moved close in with the camera, and when Helen unclipped Judith's bra he caught the larger breasts, swaying as they were released, mounds of flesh contrasting directly with Helens. James began to direct the women into specific poses: hands behind heads facing the camera to fully expose their breasts; hugging so their tits flattened against each other; removing each other's skirts; facing the camera alongside each other with their legs apart, hair evident through the material. At each step they complied without complaint, apparently becoming comfortable with the camera's intrusion. Now he told them to stand facing one another. They obeyed, Helen throwing her head back to free the hair from her face. "Now – look down the front of each other's panties – pull it open to see." They stood for long moments, staring at each other's pussies, heat rising off their bodies, like posing dolls. "Now push the panties down to your knees. No further." The women had to bend forward, but they did as they were told. "Good. Face the camera." For the first time the women presented themselves fully naked to his gaze. The panties, emblematic of their predicament, constricted their movement, so they turned with difficulty. He moved in close, lens panning across from pussy to pussy, capturing the detail: Judith's blonde whispy hair standing out from slightly plump, soft flesh; Helen's dark pubic hair lying flat against her in a narrow strip reaching to her belly, lips clearly evident between narrow thighs. The erotic moments between the women dissipated as it became clear that they were there only for his voyeuristic pleasure. "Turn away from the camera now. Good. Bend forward. Further – I want to see pussy. Good. Now pull the cheeks of your bottoms open a bit." "You disgust me!" said Helen, spurred into anger again. "Do as I say!" he responded. Humiliated they obeyed, and stayed in that uncomfortable position for unending moments as he satisfied the demands of his camera, capturing the most intimate views imaginable. Eventually, amazingly, they heard him put the camera down. Helen began to rise, but he snapped at her: "Don't move!" There was a sound she didn't recognise, then she felt him behind her, close, and suddenly felt him, unmistakably, pressing into her, opening her up, sliding deep. Tears burned at her eyelids, for her shame blended into the lust and relief of this cock pinioning her, driving her forward. As she started to respond he pulled out, sidled sideways, and she realised by Judith's gasp that he was doing the same to her. The bastard was trying them both! Judith groaned, her hips writhing. The prolonged erotic events had raised her to a brink from which she could not return – and as he plunged into her he reached across and began to finger Helen's clitoris. She almost wept with shame and pleasure. She heard Judith gasp in the pleasure of orgasm, and he pulled her over, pushed Judith aside and pulled her back onto his member. Within moments they both cried out, Helen forcing herself back onto him, realising that Judith had turned back and was watching them, watching her arch her back, open her mouth, pant in pleasure. And then her drew himself out of her, turned and walked away, and by the time she had recovered he was fully clothed again, composure returned. "That was enjoyable", he said. We never did get to use the oil though." And then with a slight grin: "Perhaps next time." He leaned over, found a stray brassiere and tossed it at Judith. "You can get dressed now. Enjoy the weekend. We'll resume this next week." Helen drew herself up, naked, and looked at Judith's body, lying back in repose on the couch, Judith slowly recovering from the evening's exertions. Her legs lay open, and her pussy still showed where James had penetrated, slightly open, moisture evident. She recognised the conflict in her: this moment of humiliation had been as erotic and exciting as any single event in her life. She bent down wearily, picked up her panties from the floor, and slowly began to draw them up her legs. Office Staff Ch. 3 And then, incredibly, for days there was nothing. No recognition from James, no contact at all. He would disappear into his office, the door would close and he would only emerge after everyone else had gone home. Helen and Judith greeted one another in the corridors, finding themselves in an incredible, unforeseen situation: their only contact had been in the most intimate of circumstances. They had barely spoken to one another, but under James gaze (and camera) they had kissed each other, undressed one another, caressed each other's breasts and examined one another's pussies, posed in the most revealing poses imaginable and finally been penetrated – fucked – in turn for his pleasure. Perhaps even more humiliating than knowing this was all filmed, was the realisation that there were moments in that dreamlike experience that had been absolutely erotic. Judith recognised an essential personal truth in her response, but for Helen it was deeply troubling. She had always considered herself independent, capable, a maverick even. She would never have contemplated taking directions from a man, and the thought of being sexually with a woman seemed so alien as to be beyond comprehension. And yet, when they passed in the passageway her eyes would be drawn to Judith's breasts, remembering the warmth of flesh in her palms. Once Judith was caught momentarily in a doorway and the light shone through her skirt, outlining her legs – and Helen's thoughts flashed back to the moment she had pulled Judith's panties open and looked down, past the curve of her belly, to see naked, almost hairless lips waiting. Rumours were filtering through the grapevine that James was bidding on a big contract, and an air of expectation settled on the company as always happens in these circumstances. Occasionally, delegations of men disappeared behind the doors, giving rise to speculations. All of this activity was secondary to the two women, for whom this was all just a pause in a disturbing unravelling sequence of events. Then late one afternoon the e-mail message crossed their desks: you'll be working late tomorrow – dress for a cocktail party. During the course of the next day people wandered in and out, and when James finally called them into his office there were four men sitting around in his lounge and behind his desk. As always, there were tumblers and drinks, and the women had barely entered the office when they were each given a glass laden with whisky. "Ah!," James said with a flourish. "The ladies have arrived!" He gestured towards them with a sweep of his hand. "Of course you've seen them before, but may I introduce Helen and Judith. Judith is the blonde." She couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard one of the men murmur "With the big tits…"; and then James turned around, saying "This is Mike, Fred, Keith and Dean," without giving any indication which man belonged to which name. "They represent a company which may be giving us some work. A lot of work." There was some laughter around the room, male in-joke frivolity, "if we are chosen as their suppliers." The women had moved into the centre of the room now, sitting on the only open seats in the couch where everyone could face them. "Competition is very tight, though, and so we have had to compile an offer which is extremely attractive. We have been obliged to look for a differentiator which nobody else could offer. Luckily we have one. Or rather, two." As the men laughed again – evidently the whisky had been in attendance for a while already – a chill descended down Helen's back. And James confirmed her fears: "I have been able to market you very effectively through the film we made together. Everyone here applauded your performance." Again the laughter. Helen wanted to stand up, to run away, but they were surrounded by men – and where would that get her? Nothing had changed. She was still obliged to do as he chose if she wished to retain her freedom. She could not look in the men's eyes, but listened with a heart that beat painfully in her chest. "Keith has an interest in cards – he suggested that you play some poker with each other for us. Strip poker, of course. And once all your clothes are off we'll have some drinks together. And a nice chat." There was the slightest tremble in Judith's hands. As she put her glass down it rattled against the table. Her mouth was parched but she wasn't sure whether she could lift the glass to her lips without spilling. She realised that the men were watching, but in place of sympathy was an electric sense of expectation in the air. James was prepared, of course: a pack of cards was thrown on to the table before her and it struck her hand as it came to rest. "The rules of the house!" James was enjoying this now. She recognised the superior tone in his voice. "Jewellery doesn't count. One item discarded for every hand lost, of course. And no modesty allowed. The game continues until you are both naked. If you lose a hand and you are already naked, you pay a forfeit." "What kind of forfeit?" snapped Helen. "Never you mind Helen – you'll know soon enough if it happens. Time to play I think. Who wants to deal first?" At this point he switched on the video camera, as he had before. The moment of truth had arrived. The offices were very quiet now. The men had fallen into a silent expectation, seated in a semicircle, watching every move with predatory anticipation. When Judith looked up finally, there were smiles across their faces, leers in their eyes. Someone said softly: "No need to be shy – we just want to take a look"; but nobody in the room believed it. She looked into Helen's eyes – the women once again being forced to share a pact of secrecy and submission. Judith gave a half-smile of encouragement, and with the subtlest of nods, Helen leaned forward and opened the pack of cards. A thrill shivered in the air – the audience leaned forward slightly, somebody cleared his throat and another took a swig from the glass. Helen dealt the hand, the shake still evident in her hand. They turned up the cards, selected carefully, looked into each other's eyes over the deck. Not a word was spoken. After the discards the men looked expectantly to see who the luck had favoured, and as the cards were laid out Helen realised with relief that hers was the better hand. Judith had to ante up, but she was not going to capitulate that easily: she raised one foot, and the shoe dropped off and fell to the floor. The impudence of the act caused the room to break into laughter: even Helen let out a giggle. The tension in the room dissipated momentarily. But it returned for the women as the game progressed. It seemed for a while that the luck stayed with the dealer: after another three rounds both women had bare feet, but in the next hand Helen lost on her own deal. The men had become marginally restless, frustrated with the lack of exposure, but they realised that flesh was now going to be put on display, and sat up to attention. She looked around at an array of eyes, intently peering at every inch of her body. Slowly she stood up, reached under her skirt and pulled off her slip, jerking it off her hip in a practised motion. It fell to the floor in a puddle of lace and sheen, and even though no skin had been displayed the men showed evident pleasure at the sight of feminine underclothing. An appreciative murmur could be heard, while Judith said, with a rueful laugh, "Not fair – we didn't all wear a slip today." Judith picked up the cards, shuffled and dealt. The men knew, now, that some primary article of clothing had to be discarded now, and when Judith lost they could be seen to be smiling amongst themselves. She unbuttoned her blouse with slightly trembling hands, thinking to herself: you'd think I'd be used to this by now. The blouse parted with each button, and her pink brassiere, pushing her breasts upwards into erotic mounds, became incrementally visible. The men could no longer contain their comments – once the first one spoke the others seemed to follow in rapid succession. "Open up honey, those hills look gorgeous." "Pink bra, huh? You pink somewhere else baby?" "Oh yes – don't hide those tits behind your hands. Take – them – a-way!" As her blouse slid down over her shoulders the men realised how transparent the bra was – her nipples, dark large ovals, could be seen through the diaphanous material and one sighed: "I could suck those all night." She knew she was blushing furiously now, conscious that it she was probably flushed on her chest as well. For a moment the men admired her in silence,. She felt unsure where to put her hands, but James cut in – "keep them down Judith," and after a long pause said: "time to play cards." Helen almost felt too afraid to pick the pack up to deal, but again felt the relief of reprieve when Judith lost. Judith stood up, watching the men in defiance as she unclipped, then unzipped the skirt and gently lowered it to the floor, raising her feet delicately to remove it and fold it over the chair. She turned as she did so, and so the men saw first the looseness of the material enveloping her pubic bush, and then the drumskin-tight sheen of fabric stretched across her ass as she bent over. Helen noticed, curiously, that one of the men touched the front of his trousers at this sight. Either Helen's luck failed her, or Judith hit a winning streak, for now Helen began to lose hands in quick succession. Her blouse came off as slowly as Judith's had, and again the comments began: "Don't worry cutie – small ones are easier to hold." When her skirt came off somebody whistled: "Man I love a slim ass!' "Well we can't all wear matching underwear can we?" There were roars of laughter at this point. Her luck failed again, and so did her courage. She paused, hands behind her back, ready to unclip her bra when she stopped, seemingly unable to carry on. Her turmoil showed in the crease of her eyebrows, the curve of her shoulders, the barely evident tremble of her lips. And then, with a new resolve she drew the clips together and the bra fell open. Her breasts were not evident at first – aside from being smaller than Judith's, she was reluctant to draw the fabric away from her chest. Somebody said: "Take it off sweetie," and resignedly she let her hands fall. Her breasts and nipples were petite, but it was the first truly naked flesh the men had seen and their response was crude. "Perky tits perky tits, one two three. Soft and juicy – all for me!" "I can't wait to see that pussy. I wonder if it's as cute as these hooters." And then the men cheered again when, impossibly, she lost again. She was going to strip naked for these bastards. "It's not fair!" she snapped at James, tears welling in her eyes. "Stealing my money wasn't fair, Helen. Life isn't fair. And I don't … care." He clearly enjoyed watching her humiliation. "It's time to refund the accounts payable." He laughed at his own joke, although the other men barely seemed to notice. Their eyes were transfixed on the black triangle of material hiding the last vestiges of her womanhood. "Take the panties off Helen. Do it now." She pouted angrily, looking at the floor in a silent frustration. Fuck him. Fuck him. And then her thumbs slid under the material and pulled it down and let it fall to the floor. She covered herself briefly, but knew she had to open up – and when she took her hands away the men actually moved forward for a closer gaze at the whispy blonde hair that barely hid her lips. In a weak attempt at humour, one of the men said leeringly: "Great cunny, honey." As weak as it was it drew laughter. The whisky and the submission of the women were clearly taking their toll. Seeing her stripped of dignity was as erotic as seeing her stripped of clothes. She sat cautiously, keeping her legs closed, knees turned to one side, hiding herself as much as possible. She could barely think to play now, and thankfully Judith lost. She removed her bra shamefacedly, the weight of her breasts forcing them to fall away from her body. They swayed as she moved, her large nipples like mother's teats. But even though one man smacked his lips in humour it was clear that the game had moved on. They wanted panties disposed and pussies exposed. And then Helen lost again. She cursed in frustration, slapping her cards on the table. She thought she knew what James would want, and she was right. "You wanted to know what the forfeit would be. Well that depends on the circumstance. But you were very quick to sit down and be discreet, weren't you Helen? The boys want to see more than pussy fur Helen. Much more. They came here to see pussy lips. For the rest of the game you must open your legs, and keep them apart. Spread your knees so we all get to examine your cunt in detail." Too ashamed to look up she did as she was told. No modesty was possible now. She sniffed back a tear, letting the words wash over her now. "Pink pus-sy." "You feeling wet baby?" "Oh yes. Oh … yes." She was beyond concentrating on the game now – losing the next hand seemed inevitable. She turned her face to James, waiting for the axe to fall. Instead, he spoke to Judith: "Helen really shouldn't play cards, should she? Another forfeit for her to pay – but now it's time to help her. You're going to kiss her for us. That shouldn't be too bad – you've done it before. We've all watched." The men laughed, again. "But I also want you to finger her, and see if you can get her to come for us. Do you think you can do that?" "You mean…?" "I mean finger her cute little pussy until she orgasms all over your hand while we watch." Helen snapped her legs shut. "No way!" Judith didn't comment, seemed shocked at the idea. But James seemed unfazed. "I told you before – you do this here, or you do this in jail with women who don't take no for an answer. Your choice." Judith was nervous. "I can't go to jail Helen. You know I can't." "I hate you," said Helen. "You're a bastard creep. I'll get you somehow for this. Somehow." But he just responded: "Judith can't finger you if your legs are closed Helen. And she really wants to finger you, don't you Judith?" Judith was shaking her head, but she was too afraid to contradict him. "Yes…," she said. "I hate you," said Helen again. She opened her legs for the men to gaze at her again, then turned her head angrily to face Judith. When the women first kissed, a sigh went through the room and then the men fell silent. Helen felt nothing – she went through the motions numbly. But then Judith's hand slid across her thigh, and one soft finger parted her lips, finding her clitoris with a flat demanding hardness, rotating slowly, slipping lusciously inside her. It was impossible not to respond to this delicate stroke, and she heard her breath catching, distantly as if it didn't belong to her, felt a wetness that could only come from her, noticed her hips beginning to rotate against Judith's hand. She gave herself to the kiss, the warmth, the breasts touching hers, the perfumed aura, and against her most ardent desire she found herself lost in the pleasure. She was taken by surprise when a hand cupped the back of her head, and a rigid member slid between her lips and Judith's; although she tried to pull away they were firmly held and she realised that one of the men had slid his cock into their kiss. "Keep on kissing," he said. "Don't stop now." He slipped it into their mouths in turn, filling them as if he were comparing. The party had changed completely – hands were on her breasts, lips in her neck. Judith's panties were being pulled forcibly off. When Helen tried to pull away, one of the men held her wrists up, so her tits stood erect. A photograph was taken of her in this pose. Then she was pushed to her knees, bent forward, another cock was pressed against her face and then slipped into her mouth. She gagged. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Judith, panties at her ankles, being bent back across a table while one of the men positioned himself between her thighs; there was a clear view of erect cock facing gaping cunt, and then it was hidden as he plunged into her. Her heart went cold: a finger was unmistakeably insinuating itself between the cheeks of her bottom. She tried to pull away unsuccessfully, but she was being pinioned in place. "This ass was made for fucking, baby. I reckon you'd best relax." When he pushed into her it felt as if she was being pulled apart. With sadistic slowness he stroked in and out of her, relentlessly filling her, driving her through pain to passion, until she started pressing back against him, arching her back, profanities slipping from her mouth, sweating, eyes closed, pulsing heartbeat, and an orgasmic explosion that left her in an exhausted heap on the floor. She never counted how many times they were abused that night, for her exhaustion was irrelevant to the men present. They certainly all tried her at least once. When she tried to move away she was held down and bent over for anal sex at least three times. She'd never even been touched there before. She saw Judith in the same situation – on her knees, panties still hanging forlornly off one ankle, being taken between her plumpish buttocks while her head was driven down onto a semi-erect cock before her. And always, James was there with his camera, taking close-ups, panning across the scene, giving directions. When the men finally fell back exhausted, he still filmed the two women. Lying naked and recovering, as if he hadn't captured enough already. The men spoke softly amongst themselves now, apparently discarding the women as no longer relevant. "I didn't think you could deliver on this James. But you lived up to your word." "Yeah. I don't think anybody else will be able to compare." "Does that mean I have the contract?" "Yeah – I guess it does." Some laughter. "I guess it does." "Excellent." He finally put down the camera, and seemed to notice the women for the first time, trying to pull panties up as if they had any modesty left. "Good work ladies. Take the day off tomorrow if you want to. You certainly deserve it." And then he turned and poured himself a final whisky.