Little more than a week had passed since their escape from the dark and sinister clutches of Medea and the rambling old house, an alleged nunnery called, Dominae nostrae servitutis – Our Lady of Bondage, situated in a remote valley the Derbyshire Pennines. After one night at an almost deserted country guest house they had moved on to locate and stay at a small hotel close to the town. They, of course, being desirable honey-blond, blue-eyed Nicola and equally alluring, equally slim and curvaceous, copper-haired, hazel-eyed Leanne, each in her eighteenth year.

‘There are one or two things I will miss – well, one in particular,’ Leanne had confessed to Nicola on their first morning of freedom.

‘Yes,’ Nicola had agreed, ‘a damn good orgasm without too much effort!’

‘Or without any effort at all,’ mused Leanne, gazing into empty space and recalling some of those quite uninhibited moments.

Their first full day in what proved to be a busy but very ordinary mid-sized town had been one of hectic activity, shopping for much needed clothes with the second day, Friday, devoted to job hunting. Much of Saturday was accounted for by yet more shopping and a visit to the cinema that same evening.

Sunday had arrived and they sat by the window over a late breakfast in a small cafe to think over what had happened those last few days.

‘We didn’t get much chance to talk last night, did we,’ said Leanne, peering over a glass of orange juice.

‘I’m not surprised after all that running around,’ sighed Nicola, eyeing the toast. ‘I was ready for a good night’s sleep, same as you.’

‘It was all too easy, precious, don’t you agree?’ said Leanne. ‘But then I did have my dreams in that dingy little hotel out in the sticks. They were premonitions you see, just as I thought.’

‘I think you’re right about one thing,’ replied Nicola. ‘It was rather easy. Someone like Medea who seemed to know what was going on everywhere should have figured out what we were up to. But as for your premonitions – no, I think we were just lucky getting jobs – well in your case, maybe, if not in mine. You fit in with that sexy underwear and fetish fashion shop perfectly.’

‘Yes, I suppose I do,’ said Leanne. ‘It felt as if the vacancy had been reserved just for me and, wow, you should meet the owner.’ 

‘Yes and I suppose knowing a bit about the scene to start with helped things along.’

‘Are you saying luck didn’t play a hand in your job?’ queried Leanne. ‘It’s the first time you’ve hinted at that.’

‘Em, er - yes, that’s because there was a price to pay. Fortunately the manager was a decent looking bloke but I think you get the idea. Anyway, at least we managed to get this flat through him. Very useful, I’d say.’

‘Oh, very,’ agreed Leanne, ‘but I did wonder how you got to land a job with an estate agent when you know absolutely nothing about selling houses - unless it was the outfit you had on for the interview; that must have impressed him more than anything else and I’m sure you’ll look terrific sitting at the front desk when you start on Monday. Men who didn’t want to move house will decide they really should just to wander in and talk to you.’

‘Oh, thank you, dearest, but I think my winning attitude and a good grasp of English might have helped a little.’ But through her mind passed the words left unspoken. ‘As well as a grasp of something quite different.’ Through her mind replayed in vivid detail the day of that interview.


It was a dismal day of lowering clouds and persistent drizzle when Nicola, umbrella raised high, click-click-clicked along the wet pavement. She arrived at the high street premises of Move Along Now estate agents at the appointed time of five o’clock. Her attention had been drawn to the job vacancy notice in the cluttered but otherwise uninspiring window when they wandered by during that previous afternoon. A casual inquiry by phone some time later had secured her an interview. As with Leanne, obtaining the interview had been very easy and she wondered if the vacancy had been advertised in a local paper because that was how she thought it would normally be done.

She entered the shop to the ping of a bell, having first noticed that the job vacancy sign had by then been removed from the window. Amidst captioned photographs and brochures there were two desks, one empty, the other occupied by an older, bespectacled woman in dark grey suit who looked up from behind her computer screen as Nicola announced the purpose of her visit. The women peered hard over her rimless glasses, indicated a part opened door to the rear and said, ‘Hm, yes, Mr Ford will see you in the next office.’

Her pasty, sniffing expression was less than encouraging. To her Nicola was an intrusion, someone with the unfair advantage of youth. She had no doubt from her, ‘Tut-tut,’ expression that the woman disapproved of her attire, the navy blue suit purchased that previous morning when both she and Leanne had satisfied an urgent need to invest in new clothes. The two-buttoned jacket with wide lapels emphasised her slim waist and showed to advantage the cleavage revealing, top in fine scarlet nylon she wore beneath. Her matching skirt was short and close fitting with a split at the rear to better display head-turning legs in sheerest black stockings. Was her skirt too short and were her blue stiletto high heels perhaps a little too obvious? She paused, her hand raised, thinking now that perhaps her choice of dress really ought to have been more conservative. ‘What would Mr Ford think?’ she asked herself as she tapped lightly on the door.

The office she entered was warm and thickly carpeted. Looking out onto a small private garden it struck her as a sanctuary away from the busy town street. Mr Ford, a clean-shaven man in his mid-thirties was of average build, dark-haired and dark -suited. He looked up with a smile and leaned back in his chair as Nicola stood before his tidy desk. His expression and the slight delay he evidenced before speaking indicated that he was most favourably impressed by her appearance.

‘Er, oh, please sit down,’ he said, indicating one of two green leather upright chairs positioned to the side of the desk. Nicola sat, certain that in his mind he was already undressing her, just as she, in her mind, began undressing him. Could it be the lust awakened within her at Medea’s house still possessed her? Could it have spread through herself and Leanne as a virus?

Mr Ford moved some paperwork aside then lowering his gaze to a single document he said, ‘I have very few details from you here but you mentioned on the phone you had experience in accountancy work at the convent school and for another organisation; who was this other party?’

‘It was privately run religious foundation in the Peak District,’ she replied. ‘They’re very much a closed order so I agreed to keep their name and location confidential. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘No,’ he smiled, ‘I have no wish to compromise your loyalty. I consider discretion an asset.’

Minutes passed as he described the job requirements and asked her further questions, all the time keeping his eyes upon the document to avoid staring at the perfumed vision of desire seated before him. He eventually looked up to inform her that, ‘I was asked by the area manager to fill this vacancy before I return to our main office, that’s why it’s a last minute rush. I leave at the end of this week when Mister Pemble returns from his holiday; you will meet him on Monday. He will appreciate the support of someone with your background.’ Pushing aside the paperwork he continued, ‘You mentioned the two of you were looking for a flat. I can help with that as we have a modern first floor apartment available only a few minutes’ walk away from here. As you’ll be a company employee we can fix it at a reasonable rent if you’re interested.’ He reached aside, adding, ‘Here are the details for the property.’

Nicola perused the leaflet then said, ‘Yes, that looks great. I’m sure Leanne will go for it as well.’

‘Then we’ll sort that one out now,’ said Mr Ford. ‘I’ll leave two sets of keys and you can move in on Monday after your first day here.

Minutes later tap on the part-opened door and a face appeared. ‘I’m going now, Mister Ford,’ the woman said.

‘Very well,’ he replied, ‘See you in the morning.’ The office door closed. There was a short silence then the shop door closed also. ‘What say I call it a day and we have ourselves a coffee?’

‘What if a customer shows up?’ asked Nicola.

‘Most unlikely at this time,’ he replied, glancing at his watch, ‘it’s gone five-thirty. That’s when we normally think about going home. So – coffee, or may I offer you a gin and tonic? I usually have one myself before getting away.’

‘I’ll go for the gin and tonic,’ Nicola answered.

‘If it’s too warm in here,’ he suggested, leaving his seat and stepping to a corner cabinet, ‘pop your jacket onto the stand by the door.’

Nicola arose, unbuttoned, slipped off her jacket and placed it onto the stand. She stood by his desk as he poured a generous helping for each into plain glasses. Handing a drink to Nicola he appraised only briefly her firm breasts and prominent nipples defined by the tensed material of her blouse. She was obviously not wearing a brassier. He returned to his seat with the image shimmering large in his mind. Moving away from the desk, Nicola lowered herself carefully into a green, leather-upholstered armchair opposite and crossed her legs to a swish of nylon that registered in his mind loudly as a breaking wave. Nicola knew perfectly well the effect she was having on him.

‘So, you haven’t been in the town long,’ he said, trying not to glance for more than a split second at her legs.

‘No, just a couple of days,’ she smiled. ‘The two of us, that is.’

He explained at some length, in as dry-voiced and matter-of-fact manner as he was able, about the business and how she would fit in best with usual manager. It was past six o’clock when their glasses were empty.

‘Another?’ he asked, holding up his glass.

‘Why not,’ she answered, rising from the seat and adjusting the hem of her skirt as he stepped a second time over to the drinks cabinet. Nicola placed her glass by his and Mister Ford refilled both. Handing Nicola hers, he slipped an arm about her waist. She did not object so when he relinquished his hold, each drank whilst gazing closely into the eyes of the other. With once more empty glasses set aside they moved into the centre of the office and began kissing.

‘We shouldn’t be doing this,’ he breathed, holding her tightly.

‘You’re right, we shouldn’t,’ agreed Nicola as they resumed kissing. ‘You’re a very naughty man, Mister Ford.’

‘Call me Andrew,’ he breathed. reaching down to discover the buttons of her blouse were easily undone. Nicola hesitated only to slip this off and drop in onto his desk. His hands fell to her waist and his lips to her breasts where he nibbled, teased and sucked until the teats stood firm and reddened. His right hand drifted to the back of her skirt only to find Nicola already tugging down the short zipper. He kicked off his shoes and with frantic haste proceeded to divest himself of his trousers. He gazed wide-mouthed at Nicola who stood in open body tights, high-heels and flimsy little nylon briefs. Nicola in turn regarded the shape of a barely contained cock straining to be freed from the confines of his navy blue briefs.

The small office room had become a hothouse of sensuality. They were kissing now with abandoned fervour. His hand slipped down her stomach and under the thin elastic of her briefs until his fingers encountered the heat of her smooth-shaven pussy to find her much aroused. Nicola squeezed the confined cock, prompting him to push the briefs down with his spare hand. He released her to drop and kick away the briefs then fell to his knees where he clutched her behind and pressed kisses to the soft flesh of her stomach. Pulling away her briefs he worked down until his tongue could spread her pussy lips and taste her passion. Nicola dropped to her knees and took the ample cock in her hand so, kneeling face to face, each kissed and masturbated the other. As if their thoughts were as one they rolled to the carpet but Nicola, pushing Andrew onto his back, scrambled about to fall upon the rampant organ with her mouth, taking the full length deep into wet heat. He in turn pulled her around until she squatted with her thighs positioned over his face and his tongue was able to resume its voluptuous game, flickering, probing, driving her to dismiss all constraint as she worked the cock vigorously with her mouth. Each possessed the other in a vortex of lust and each felt magma heat invade every fibre of their bodies. The roller coaster was reaching its zenith. It would soon plunge into searing pleasure and neither was able to hold it back. Nicola set rigid in the grip of orgasm with a stifled, ‘Mmm-mmm-mmm!’ whilst Andrew, fingers digging into her thighs, jetted hard and copiously inside her mouth.

With semen glistening at the corners of her lips, Nicola slowly arose, reaching for her briefs, skirt and blouse as Andrew, gesturing with his hand, gasped, ‘Washroom’s through the main office.’

Ten minutes later found them once again face to face. Andrew’s expression advertised his concern and, raising his hands he said, ‘Look, I’m terribly sorry. I’ll understand if you no longer wish to work here but like I said, I move on at the end of this week. I really am very sorry.’

‘No need to be,’ she replied, making final adjustments to her skirt. ‘I’ll take the job. But as you won’t be here, let’s pretend it never happened, shall we?’

‘That will take some doing,’ he muttered.

Once again Mister Ford the manager, he stood by the window as Nicola, without another word, departed the office. She stepped out into a fine drizzle, pausing to open her umbrella as grey people hurried by with their heads lowered. She was thinking all the time how easily two complete strangers had succumbed to their sexual urges. Never before had she demonstrated such forceful initiative with a man and never had she allowed a man to ejaculate fully into her mouth. ‘It’s that bloody house,’ she told herself, turning the corner to head for the hotel, ‘Leanne can’t have enough of it and maybe I’m getting like her. Oh well, the day I start he’ll be gone and I’ll have someone else to deal with.’