Hot company girls

That was what I said, and I thought I meant it, yet when Gale dropped her hand on my shoulder I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“My, aren’t you the touchy one,” Gale commented. “You’re as nervous as a virgin in a whorehouse.” Then she giggled. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m not going to pop your cherry.”

One of her fingers sneaked underneath my bra strap, lifted it a fraction, then eased it over my shoulder. “There’s no need to keep this thing on, Philippa, we’re all Girlsimages together, aren’t we?”

Her fingers slid the strap down further, as far as my elbow, and the cup fell clear, revealing my left boob. Gale stared at it and almost seemed to be licking her lips. It felt like she was the wolf and I was a potential Red Riding Hoodburger. Even so, I still couldn’t believe she was interested in me — not in that way.

“Gale … ?” My throat seemed even drier now. But she was expecting the question I didn’t want to ask.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, we’re just having some fun making a tape, that’s all. But we need to get this thing off first.”

She took my bra off and then moved closer to me. “Smile at the camera, Philippa. Show how happy we are together.”

It seemed like an odd thing to say but I smiled as she wanted me to. It was the strangest feeling to be looking into the camera’s eye with hardly anything on, very embarrassing, and even more embarrassing when Gale threw one of her heavy boots over my left thigh and held my legs wide open. What had started out as informal job interview was turning out to something like a audition for a centerfold shot. This was all totally wacky but maybe it was the sort of thing that rich and successful people did.

“You’re going to show this to other people?” I asked. “To some guys?” It seemed impossible to believe.

“That’s right. You want me to come back and tell you everything they say about you while they were watching it? Like what a horny chick you are?”

“Are you sure they won’t be laughing at me?” I asked.

“Don’t play yourself, Philippa, you’re a real good looker. Come on, let’s give them something to sweat on,” Gale encouraged me. “They’ll go apeshit when they see me doing this to you, honey.”

I guess I’d been about three-quarters expecting it but even so it was a shock when she began fondling one of my breasts. I’d always been nervous about letting a guy do that, let alone a girl, and I was frightened of her advances. Frightened, and ashamed, and when I made an effort to get loose Gale dug her sharp fingernails in around my nipple.

“Relax, relax, this is your lucky day, honeypot,” she whispered, just like a man might have said to me in the same situation.

What could I do? Get into a struggle with those nails still hooked into me? Tell her to get her hand off me because I’d changed my mind and didn’t want a great new job after all? Neither of those alternatives seemed like a good choice. So I kind of accepted things going on the way they were while not giving out any body language which would suggest I was enjoying Gale’s touch. But it turned out to be hard to go with the flow when the current started getting a lot stronger. Because Gale took hold of my other tit and held it firmly while she ran her tongue over and around my nipple.

What was so strange that except for her long nails it felt just like having a man starting in on some serious foreplay. In fact the only way I could deal with it was to close my eyes and try to pretend that it was a guy coming on at me. But it wasn’t an easy self deception to make with the sweet scent of Gale’s expensive perfume in my nostrils. Trying as much as I could not to protest, I still heard my voice whimpering like a kicked puppy’s.

“Oh dear,” Gale whispered smoothly, “It seems like we’ll have to undertake a little personality adjustment here.” She picked up the coil of rope and ran it through the fingers of both hands like the head of a lynch mob picking out a strong looking tree branch.

“OK, Pauline, lie down on the bed on your stomach and put your hands behind your back. We’re now going to make this tape a hell of a lot more interesting for the lucky guys who get to see you getting your new job.”

The bitch could see right through me, she knew how desperate I was to achieve some thing, to be somebody. So I didn’t utter one word of useless protest and I didn’t try to leave. What I did do was to lie down on the bed and let Gale truss my wrists up behind my back. It was no play acting either: she knew her knots like a sailor and by the time she’d finished I was as helpless as if I’d been handcuffed.

Afterwards I could hear her boots hitting the carpet as she walked around the bed. Walking as in like a wrestler walking around a ring after he’s just thrown his opponent over the ropes: more of a kind of triumphal strut. Then she dropped her weight heavily on the bed beside me.

“Looks as if Thanksgiving is here early this year, Philippa. Let’s see how the turkey feels.”

Her fingers touched my back, ran down over my cheeks and then squeezed one of them as if I really was some piece of flesh to be mauled around before being bought. And, once again, I wished that Gale would cut her nails shorter and blunter. She made me yelp as they dug in deeply.

“Aw shit, I’m sorry, honeybunch,” she said, half laughing. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Let me make it up with a little tender loving care down here.”

I couldn’t help but give a gasp of protest as those nails moved lower yet, dancing and fluttering between the insides of my thighs like trapped butterflies.