‘How desperate are you for a loan, Ms Latham?’ Pemberton
asked. ‘And please be totally honest with me.’
‘Very desperate,’ Sue admitted.
‘Would it be true to say that your
only other options are a payday loan company charging outrageous rates of
interest, or perhaps an even more unsavoury loan shark?’
Sue bit her lip. ‘Probably.’
‘So we are in effect your last hope?’
‘Yes.’
He smiled. ‘Well, let’s see if we can avoid those
unpleasant eventualities. Tell me in more
detail how you lost your job...’
Pemberton was the “Loans and Assets”
manager for Charnley’s Bank in Walbaston.
His office was closed, not one of those open plan partitioned cubicles,
and neat if rather old fashioned, with a large solid desk and frosted glass on
the lower half of its windows. Pemberton
himself was everything that you could have wished for in a person holding such
a position: fifty-ish, soberly respectable, wearing gold rimmed spectacles and
greying at the temples and exuding a quiet, assured manner. It was in keeping with the character of the
bank. Charnley’s was a small chain, one
of the last left that had not been swallowed up by the big banks. Sue had come to it because she had heard it
took an “individual and personal” approach to finance.
Sue took a deep breath: ‘I was a project manager at Woodville, Burr
and Hammond, the advertising agency, and I worked at their office just outside
town.
We’d just signed up Alex Rockley, of
the Rockshop chain, as a client, which you can imagine was a major coup for the
company. Actually I didn’t like Rockley
much personally, because he’s aggressively bloke-ish, opinionated and
self-confident. Maybe that’s how he made
all his money. Anyway, I put up with
him right up to the moment he groped me at the party WB&H held to celebrate
the deal.’
“‘You may have hired my talent, but
you haven’t hired my bum!’” I said. Then
I slapped him.
‘It might have ended there but then I
did a stupid thing. I spoke up about
suspicions I had about the sourcing of some Rockshop products from dubious
suppliers in the Far East which got leaked to the media. My bosses had to choose between keeping me or
Alex and the Rockshop account and obviously they chose the money. I was
dismissed on the grounds of disloyalty to the company and breach of client
confidentiality. I considered appealing
but a legal adviser said it was only an even chance I’d win.’
‘You looked for other employment?’
Pemberton asked.
‘Of course, but by then my name was
toxic in the advertising world so I had to try another line of work. I thought it wouldn’t be too difficult. I mean I’m only twenty-five. But it seemed being fired like that counted
against me and there were even younger graduates ready to take on similar
positions for less than I had been getting.
Of course there are always low paid jobs I was overqualified for but
they wouldn’t help me. After I got my
job at WB&H and then quick promotion to a really good salary I bought a
flat, a car and some other stuff. Our
work was all about image and I felt I had to look successful. Unfortunately I’m still paying for them…’
‘Yes, your liabilities are
considerable,’ Pemberton said.
He had already taken down the facts
and figures of Sue’s finances, including her credit and store card balances and
added up what she owed. His desk screen
still showed the alarming total.
‘I never imagined things could fall to
pieces like that,’ Sue admitted bitterly.
‘Now I don’t want to lose everything I earned. I’m sure I can find work at my old pay scale
if I just have a little longer. That’s
why I came to you. My own bank won’t
extend my overdraft any further. I need a temporary loan to see me through the
next few months.’
‘Do you have any close family or
friends who can assist you?’
‘No.
My parents split up a few years ago and neither of them has got any
money to spare. I’ve got an older
brother who lives in Canada but he’s got a large family to support. Anyway I don’t want to go begging to any of
them. I want to sort this out myself
because I know part of the reason I’m in this mess was my own pride. I was too proud of what I had achieved and
too sure the company would support me over Rockley.
But I won’t make that mistake
again. I’m ready to do anything, but it
has to be for a decent wage…’
Pemberton steepled his fingers and
looked at her thoughtfully, his probing eyes narrowing behind his
spectacles. ‘An interesting choice of
words. Are you ready to sacrifice a little
of your pride, now?’
Sue was not quite sure how to take
this. ‘Well I’m not afraid of getting my
hands dirty, if that’s what you mean. As
long as the money’s right.’
‘I was not thinking of your hands
getting dirty,’ Pemberton said with a smile.
‘Perhaps you might be suitable for one of our special loans… but you’ll
have to prove you mean what you say about being ready to do any work for a
decent wage.’
Sue’s heart leaped. ‘I am!’
‘But are you ready to prove it right
now?’
‘Yes!’
‘I’m being serious, Ms Latham. ‘We’d be investing a lot of money in you and
you’d have to show you could repay it in full.’
‘I promise you I can.’
He opened a drawer and took out a fat
banded bundle of crisp fresh twenty pound banknotes which he laid on the
desk. Sue goggled at in surprise and
shameful longing.
‘That’s a thousand pounds towards paying
off your debts,’ he said. ‘It’s yours
for free if you can prove your determination and suitability for our full
offer.’
‘What full offer?’
‘First you must prove you are
suitable.’
Sue blinked. This was a strange way of going about
assessing her for a loan. Perhaps this
was what “individual and personal” meant.
But at least it seemed Pemberton thought she was worth the effort. ‘All right, what do I have to do?’
‘You do what I tell you to next. If you refuse or leave before I say then you
forfeit the cash and any chance of a loan.
Once again I remind you that this is deadly serious and that your future
depends on your response. Do you understand?’
This was not like any bank meeting she
had ever attended before, but she could tell Pemberton meant what he said.
‘Yes.’
‘Then strip off. I want to see you totally naked. You have one minute to obey…’ and he looked
at his watch.
Sue gaped at him. ‘What?’
‘Strip off, Ms Latham. I want to see if you have what we are after
under your clothes. Prove you meant what
you said about being ready to get dirty and do anything… or leave and lose
everything. Decide now. You have fifty seconds left… or are you still
too proud?’
His expression was still totally
sincere and business-like. He really
meant what he said! And the money on the
desk was terribly tempting. Sue felt
sick and confused and helpless because she could not afford to refuse even this
outrageous and insulting test of her character, or whatever it was. This was what real desperation tasted
like. Beggars could not be choosers…
With her cheeks burning, Sue stood up,
stepped aside from Pemberton’s desk, and began to undress. A sense of
detachment came over her as she removed her smart black business suit, silk
blouse and expensive underwear, as if she was in a dream watching this happen
to somebody else who looked like her. It
had to be a dream because nobody made suggestions like this in a respectable
high-street bank in real life…
And then she was standing naked in
front of Pemberton and all her clothes were folded up neatly on the chair she
had been sitting on. Then excruciating
embarrassment rose up within her and she slid her hands across her breasts and
pussy. Oh God what she done!
‘Don’t cover yourself, Ms
Latham!’ Pemberton said with quiet
authority. ‘A pretty body like yours was
never meant to be concealed. Clasp your
hands behind your neck and stand straight with your feet spread. Present yourself properly. You are a potential
asset to the bank and it is my job to assess you fully…’
Miserably Sue obeyed, clasping her
hands submissively behind her neck and opening herself to his gaze.
Working in advertising and knowing the
value of outward appearance even ahead of intellect, Sue had taken care over
keeping fit (her gym membership being another item on her list of debits) and
maintaining a trim and supple body. She
had a thick mane of brown hair and an even all over tan. Her face was a well-proportioned oval with
bold straight brows, dark brown intelligent eyes and an appealingly up-tilted
nose. Professionally whitened teeth
showed between her shapely lips. Her
high plump breasts were distinctly pneumatic with dark brown prominent domed
nipples. Her waist was tight and she had
a carefully trimmed wage of pubic hair over a smooth bare pudenda. Her legs were lean and her buttocks were
strong under her smooth soft curves.
Even as she stood naked and trembling
in the middle of this office, Pennington calmly walked round her, looking her
up and down and nodding in approval.
Then he picked up the wad of bank notes. ‘Open your mouth,’ he
commanded.
In a daze Sue obeyed and he pushed the
money into her mouth. She could smell
its fresh ink. ‘You drop it and you lose
everything,’ he told her. ‘Now don’t move…’
He cupped and weighed her hot breasts
and pinched her nipples, which responded by hardening uncontrollably.
‘Bend over’, he told her and she
obeyed.
He pried apart her bottom cheeks to
examine the tight well-mouth of her anus and then slapped the soft hemispheres
hard, watching the shiver’s ripple over her buttocks.
‘Stand straight again…’
He ran his hand down between her thighs and
rubbed her bare sex lips, sliding a finger into her slot to tickle the mouth of
her vagina and the button of her clitoris.
Sue’s face contorted in shame and she snivelled and made tiny throaty
whimpers, but she did not let go of the money.
Finally satisfied, Pemberton resumed
his seat, leaving Sue standing naked before him, trembling slightly in fear and
confusion, her cheeks burning, but still holding her display posture with the
money clamped firmly between her teeth.
‘Do you know how Charnley’s has
survived while so many other small banks around it were being absorbed by the
big names?’ Pemberton asked.
Sue shook her head.
‘We capitalised on the supply and
management of a particular type of natural resource that certain of our
customers pay highly to borrow. It’s
something that never goes out of fashion, which some people say is an even
safer investment than gold. I’m
referring to attractive female bodies, like your own.’
A cold hand seemed to clutch Sue’s
heart. She should leave now… but that
would mean losing the money…
‘We have clients who would pay a
considerable sum for the temporary use of your body as a sex toy, a plaything
or slave servant, call it what you like.
That’s the asset we trade in. We
operate a select and exclusive loan service whose commodity is female flesh.’
He turned to his computer. ‘These are a
few still images from our catalogue. Of
course, we have videos as well… ‘
He entered a code on his keyboard and
turned the screen around to face Sue. On
it flashed up a series of images of attractive naked bound women. They were suspended within a large open metal
frame with their arms and legs spread out and cuffed to its corners, exposing
every part of their helpless bodies. In
addition to full figures shots front and rear, the sequences included close-ups
of their breasts and buttocks and vulvas, together with head and shoulder
images. Nothing was left to the
imagination. There were black girls,
brown girls, olive girls and white girls, with raven pubic bushes, blond
bushes, red bushes and bare pubes.
But despite their individual physical
differences, their vulvas had one thing in common. Each woman wore a large gold padlock threaded
through holes pierced in their labial lips and each padlock was stamped with an
individual number.
Yet even more shocking than this were
the expressions on their faces. They
were not smiling winningly at the camera, or looking coy, seductive or raunchy,
as if they were posing for some men’s magazine. Each had a rubber bit clenched between their
teeth and their faces were pleading and despairing and their cheeks were
flushed and some looked as though they had recently been crying. It added a terrible dark undercurrent to
their helpless exposure.
There were no names or any other
details to accompany the images of each woman.
They were identified only by a code number by each image that was
preceded with the words: PUSSY… The same number as on the padlock that hung
from their sex mouths.
As Sue gaped at this display of
captive flesh in horror, Pemberton chuckled again. ‘They are given “Pussy” numbers for
convenience and anonymity. Some of our
employees have suggested the “plc” at the end of our name should stand for: Pussy Loan Company.’
With an effort Sue tore her gaze away
from the screen to stare at Pemberton in disgust and disbelief. How could this eminently proper man possibly
suggest such a thing? How could a high
street bank, which had looked so respectable from the outside, possibly be
engaged in such business? But to ask
would mean opening her mouth and losing her money. She felt tears of despair welling up in her
eyes. This was where her pride had got
her…
Pemberton continued: ‘We supply girls
to our clients as required, who exercise total domination over them for the
hire period and then return them. The
pussies are not paid directly for their service. Like you they have debts which we have taken
on and manage. When these debts are
cleared, plus a reasonable profit for ourselves, they are released from their
contracts.’ He saw Sue’s look of
surprise at the word for he continued: ‘Yes, we have contracts, Ms Latham. This is a properly managed business. We are not crude pimps, you know. Our pussy girls all understand exactly what
is expected of them. It’s part of our
service. And I think that in your
current circumstances it would be wise for you to become one of them.’
Fighting back her tears, Sue shook her
head.
‘Look at the matter
dispassionately. If you refuse this
offer what are your options? Will you
end up in some pitiful job that will never clear what you owe? To avoid bankruptcy will you be forced to take
up prostitution yourself perhaps, and have to fake affection for seedy and
potentially dangerous clients? Yet you
do have a pretty body which has commercial value if it is properly managed and
we have many years’ experience in this field.
As a Charnley’s Bank pussy girl, you don’t have to pretend to enjoy what
will be done to you, only endure it. And
of course you’ll have no choice but to do that.
You see our customers want the fun of mastering unwilling girls. You are experiencing a taste of it right now,
and do so most attractively, I can assure you.’
Sue swayed at the implications of this
twisted compliment, thinking she was going to faint. Yet even as he spoke she felt a warm
slickness seeping through her sex lips.
What would it feel like to be used like that?
‘If you became a Charnley’s pussy girl
you could tell your family and friends you had taken a highly respectable job
with our Customer Service division.
However it will sometimes involve you disappearing at short notice for a
few days or even a week at a time. But
the pay is good and your position is far more secure than it was with your
previous employer. What service you
actually provide for our customers of course they will never know. Your reputation and character would be
perfectly safe. Put yourself in our
hands and we will take on you debt payments so you can keep all those luxuries
you acquired, plus an allowance for day to day living expenses. Isn’t that the best offer you can hope to
get?’
The way he put it sounded so
reasonable and for a moment the possibility thrilled her. Then she thought of
the terrible price she would have to pay.
Even the fact she was considering it was a measure of her desperation. She could spit the money out in his face and
leave with her treacherous pride intact… but that would not pay the bills.
As she hesitated Pemberton said:
‘Would you like to see a contract to know what would be expected of you as a
flesh loan asset?’
That could not hurt. It would give her a little more time to
think. She nodded.
‘Lower your arms and bend over the end
of my desk…’
Sue bent trembling over the desk,
resting on her elbows. Her breasts
brushed its cool red leather inlay. Her
nipples were still hard… Pemberton took
out a printed sheet of paper from the drawer and set it down on the desk in
front of her together with a pen. He
took the wad of banknotes from her mouth and put it down beside the contract.
‘If you move from the desk before I
give you permission, you lose everything. Now read the contract out loud, so I
can be sure you understand…’
The contract already had her name at
the top with her full address as well.
Had Pemberton been checking up on her before she even arrived for her
appointment? Had he known it would come
to this before she even stepped through his door?
Pemberton moved round behind her and
slapped her bottom hard. ‘Begin!’ he
commanded.
Sue began to read falteringly: ‘The undersigned (hereafter known as Pussy
37) grants full use of her body to Charnley’s Bank plc for the exclusive use of
its approved customers. She is to be
available at all times of the day or
night and either attend the branch or be ready for collection by bank
representatives within one hour of notification of her being loaned…’.
Pemberton pushed her legs apart. She thought she heard a zipper. Oh God no!
She must run now! But she seemed
paralysed, losing her will to the terrible words of the contract.
‘She will serve bank customers as required in their own
homes or previously designated locations for loan periods of not less than one
day and no greater than one week...’
Pemberton’s hands clasped her hips as
his hard cock head rubbed along the cleft of her buttocks and pressed against
the slot of her sex mouth. Sue whimpered
but she did not move. She kept reading:
‘During these sessions they may inflict upon
her any kind of sexual degradation, mental or physical use or misuse, (unless
it will result in permanent harm); including but not limited to…’
Pemberton entered Sue, forcing his
cock into her slippery vagina until he filled to the hilt. He felt so big… She faltered. He slapped her buttocks again: ‘Continue!’
‘…enforced
nudity, bondage, restraint and close confinement; corporal punishment…’
Pemberton began to ride Sue hard,
thrusting steadily in and out, the head of his cock thudding into the head of
her passage with bruising force.
‘…including
but not limited to caning, strapping, spanking, lashing; ordeals and challenges
including but not limited to total immersion, electrical torture/ stimulation,
hot waxing, enforced couplings…’
He bent over her, reached under her
body and cupped and squeezed her heavy warm breasts, which were heaving and
bobbing in time with his thrusts.
‘…with one or more members of either sex using all orifices, the
insertion and use of electrical or mechanical devices to simulate vaginal, oral
and anal sexual intercourse…’
He was kneading her breasts and
flicking her hard nipples with his fingertips.
‘… both
individually and simultaneously and the general application of pain by any
means until it causes loss of control over her bodily functions…’
He pinched and twisted her nipples,
bringing hot tears to her eyes and blurring the words so she had to snivel and
blink to clear her sight.
‘During the period of this contract Pussy 37’s compliance will be
enforced by all necessary means, electrical and mechanical…’
Pemberton was slamming in to her now,
banging her hips into the desk side. Her
pussy was dribbling over the polished wood.
‘Once entered into this contract cannot be cancelled except by the
agreement of both parties, or until Pussy 37 has repaid her personal debt’s,
including interest and maintenance costs, and in addition has earned the bank
the sum of £100,000 in body loan fees.’
Pemberton hunched over her, impaling
her on his shaft. ‘Sign it, Ms Latham… Let us take care of you… or risk being
ruined!’
It was then Sue realized she had no
choice. There was no other way she was
going to save herself.
Sue signed her name shakily even as he
rammed into her, signing away her freedom and the rights to her body, becoming
a piece of property and committing herself to pain and shameful
degradation. And then Pemberton came
inside her.
He lay across her back for some
moments, savouring his mastery of her body as his sperm began to drip out of
her cleft and down her thighs. And then
he whispered in her ear: ‘Welcome to Charnley’s plc, Pussy 37.’