Breaing Monica

Please read the first part first.

This is a complete work of fiction.

We are all adults here.

*****

Monica struggled through the next hour and a half or so. Her dress was rubbing her stiff nipples into incredible sensitivity, and with each movement her breasts felt torturously delicious. Her panties were soaked through into her dress and her nerves were completely shot. Inwardly she cursed Jenna for leaving her like that, until it got busier and busier as the afternoon dragged on. Being by herself meant that for the last few hours of her shift before Mr. Jones came back, she had a line of customers and didn't have much time to ponder her situation.

The entire time her nipples remained pointy little bullets poking from her dress. Every man that she helped at the bank had his eyes on them, and she never felt so much attention thrown her way. The women weren't as nice, what with raised eyebrows and questioning looks. That was bad enough but when the kindly old schoolteacher Mrs. Riley took notice, Monica was positively humiliated.

When she finished cashing her teacher's paltry paycheck, her salary not being much, Mrs. Riley told Monica in a scolding tone, "Young lady. That is hardly appropriate to be flaunting the charms the good Lord gave you. Have some shame and cover yourself. You look like a downright whore."

Her face, usually so kind and matriarchal, was twisted in a disgusted scowl as she turned to leave. Monica was mortified and felt almost as if she had been spit on right in her face. The humiliation, however, sent a jolt of nervous energy straight down between Monica's legs, and she sighed as she felt herself becoming wet again.

Her day, soon after that, was thankfully over. But for Monica, the fun was just beginning. She went straight home after work, and wasted no time in stripping completely naked, and crawling onto her bed. The events of that day took a toll on her, after which her fingers took their toll on her helpless clit.

Monica wasn't home more than an hour and she had already masturbated to two amazing orgasms. A third was coming soon and she felt not the urge to stop. As her fingers rubbed tight, fast circles on her swollen, purple, little button she moaned and thought about Jenna. About Lisa. Imagining them naked and together in bed, and the jealous pang pushed her over the edge. This time, her third orgasm, she actually squealed and squirted. Her pussy spitting a nice little thin stream of girly cum from her fingertips to the end of her bed. Much to her surprise. At that, Monica giggled and resolved to do it again, the fun being in the attempt.

She had a very busy night after that.

Joanne was gasping for breath. Her body was glistening with a sheen of moisture from the strain of effort. Her head was down, and she was biting on the pillow hard, trying not to scream. The cock plunging into her tight ass was merciless, thick, and so long she felt like it was going to pop out of her mouth after running her through with every thrust. The chubby blonde housewife had no regrets however, as this thug was an animal in the sack. Her husband could learn from him, though Joanne doubted hubby had this kind of stamina in him.

She had met Johnny in a bar at the edge of her small town. Him and his skinny friend Rico. While Rico was cute in his own way, Joanne had been instantly attracted to the muscles and tattoos Johnny was sporting. There weren't many guys like him in her small town and she couldn't resist the offer to come back to the hotel room for a drink. And now he had been pounding her for the better part of two hours, invading every hole Joanne possessed.

He didn't care she was married and neither did she apparently. He was only in town for a few days on business, and Joanne hoped to catch this cock again before he left. If she could sneak away from home again.

Johnny, for his part, was just killing time. The boss would be here tomorrow or the next day and then they could collect the debt they were here to collect. Hopefully leave this podunk town and get back to business in the big city. Back to making real money. As Johnny assfucked the chubby little blonde he wondered why the boss was so set on collecting from the girl they came for. It was ten grand for sure, but even Johnny would blow through that much spending ten minutes in a strip club. Must just want to set an example. As he chuckled at the thought he slapped Joanne's plump behind and gave her colon a particularly hard thrust. Johnny did love the way a little blonde fuck pig squealed while getting buggered.

Rico heard the squeal coming from the bedroom-well the hours of squealing really-and chuckled. He took another long swig of the fifth of rum on the table in front of him and continued his current task. His usually current task. Disassembly of his twin .45 pistols, cleaning, then reassembly. Over and over three times. It was a compulsion. Johnny liked grabbing a girl for naked fun on these sort of outings while Rico obsessively cleaned and cleaned his guns. To each his own. That's why they always got hotel rooms with separate kitchen and bedrooms.

When he was still a punk, Rico was coming up with a small time gang. His very first confrontation with a rival gang had turned ugly and guns were drawn. Rico drew fast and first, only to have his automatic jam as soon as he pulled the trigger. For his pains, he took a gut shot, and vowed to never let that happen again. So now he was obsessive about his pride and joy. A twin set of stainless steel, pearl handled, Colt .45's. His girls. So as he started taking them apart again, the room smelling of oil and cleaning solvent, he chuckled as more squeals came from the bedroom.

Jenna was already at work the next morning when Monica dragged herself in. A bit disheveled and looking a bit worse for wear, Monica started her day. It was her turn to get to work fifteen minutes late, and even Jenna was surprised. Of course of all days for Jen to get to work on time, it happened to be this day.

Jenna was already at her station processing the night drops, in her usual tight skirt, skimpy top, and too high heels. So when Monica got to her station she looked down at her own outfit. Tight black slacks, a white blouse with a grey cardigan over, and her usual sensible black flats. She yawned and briefly considered a trip to the mall over the weekend. Maybe she could use some slighty nicer clothes. Maybe some not so frumpy clothes. Her mind whispered, maybe some...sluttier clothes.

That's about the time the branch manager Tim Jones stuck his head out of his office and called out to Monica. Summoned her into his office. His voice stern and serious. Jenna giggled and pointed her finger at Monica saying, in a sing song tone, "Busted."

Monica made a face at Jenna and put her purse down, heading for the office. She was so sleepy and could just feel her eyes droop. Wanting coffee or espresso or an energy drink or something, anything, to perk herself up. And now she was being called into the office. Off to a great start. At least noone knew the reason she was tired, the reason she was late, was because she overslept due to the night before. Monica you see, was so charged sexually from the previous day's events that she had spent most of the night masturbating. Over and over until she was a wreck of quivering nerves.

As Monica entered the manager's office Tim Jones told her to close the door, and take a seat. He was seated behind his desk and poring over some paperwork, barely sparing her a glance. Monica shut the door and sat on one of the two chairs in front of the desk, crossed her legs, and waited. And waited. And waited. For a good ten minutes Mr. Jones kept her quietly sitting as he flipped through whatever papers he was so intently focused on. Letting the tension build. The suspense.

At long last he said, "Monica, why were you late today?" His tone serious.

With almost a sigh of relief, she answered. Explaining how she was sorry. How it wouldn't happen again. Wondering to herself why she should feel bad about it when Jenna came in to work late every day. Wondering how she got away with it.

"Well I am afraid I'm going to have to write you up Monica, and it's a three day suspension for being that late. Company policy," Tim Jones told her. While she gasped in shock, he was taking out the proper paperwork for her to acknowledge and sign. Three copies. One for HR, one for the bank, and one for corporate.

Overcoming her shock, Monica spoke up. "This isn't fair Mr. Jones," she said a bit angrily. Being a bit petty she then said, "Jenna comes in late every day and you never tell her anything!" Her face red now.

Tim Jones just let her finish before asking Monica if she was done. If she got it all out. Monica steamed and nodded yes. Then he looked at her as she looked at him. Both locking eyes. For a good long two minutes they sized each other up mentally. And Mr. Jones considered seizing the chance to do something he had wanted to do for a long time.

"Monica," he began, with a grin. "Jenna and I have an agreement if you will. And an arrangement. I think you would perhaps like the same deal?" he asked.

"What deal?" Monica replied, still a bit red but now, turning a slighlty different shade of red, as she was beginning to understand what was going to happen. Beginning to guess how Jenna got away with everything she did. Beginning to feel the tingle in her little pink panties again.

"I would have to show you Monica," Tim said. Looking at her intently now and hoping he hadn't misread her. With Jenna it was easy as she was quite clearly a whore, but this one? He hoped there wouldn't be too big of a lawsuit if he was wrong, and maybe he would only have to resign.

Monica glared at him for a few seconds, composing herself and asking herself if this was what she wanted right now. Her mind filled with Jenna and her body starting to feel nervous anticipation. If she couldn't have Jenna, maybe she could have something Jenna had. Maybe that would bring them a little closer.

"Fine then, show me," she said. As Mr. Jones smiled and told her to get up and go lock the door. Monica stood and quietly locked the office door, hoping Jenna could hear everything. Hoping whatever happened would make Jenna wet for her. Hoping against hope Jenna would want to date her...or more.

As Monica turned to face Mr. Jones he stood up and walked around to her side of his desk. With one finger, he beckoned her closer. Monica just looked at him for a brief instant, then moved slowly to him. He looked her up and down, slowly taking in the sight of her. He could tell she had a body under those frumpy clothes, he had checked it out often enough and now he could hardly believe what might be about to happen. So he moved aside and beckoned her closer to the desk.

For her part, Monica could barely breathe. This was new territory for her, the randomness and inappropriately naughty nature of the things she was thinking caused her breath to come in short, sharp, gasps. And nothing had even happened yet. Mr. Tim Jones rested his hand on her back, right in the small of it and guided her up against his desk, facing it. The surface was sufficiently wide enough, and lacking much in the way of obstacles save his keyboard, which was conveniently off to the side, that he had no trouble at all with what he did next. And what he did next caused Monica to gasp.

Resting his hand on the small of her back, Mr. Jones firmly guided Monica to bend over. All the way over, until her body was bent at a ninety degree angle. Her feet flat on the floor, and her legs straight. Torso resting across his desk. Her breasts pressed flat. Monica rested her head on her arms, and turned it to the left side. Her eyes closed and her mind made up to take whatever her boss, Mr. Jones, had in store for her. For an instant she even forgot about Jenna, out in the bank probably listening in. In fact, Jenna was listening in, a grin of delight on her face.

"Punishment and discipline Monica," Mr. Jones began. His hand resting firmly on the small of her back as he stood next to her bent over body. "That's the arrangement Jenna has and that's the arrangement you have now. Beginning with the punishment. For being LATE."

Tim Jones punctuated the last word with a smack to Monica's firm behind. Making her gasp. He couldn't believe the feel of her tight ass, and smiled at the fact that Jenna didn't have anything on this one. Then her punishment began. Monica couldn't remember the last time she was spanked, but she also didn't remember it hurting like this. Tim smacking each cheek in turn, her slacks provided very little protection. After ten swats to each cheek Monica was gasping, wincing, and raising on tiptoes each time his hand fell. Her butt moving from side to side and one leg or the other kicking up. Jenna could hear every swat and squeal as she stood just outside the door to Tim's office, listening in glee.

Tim Jones knew he almost had Monica where he wanted her, but knew he had to act fast now. Had to do what he needed to do while his bank teller was still off balance. While she was disorganized in her thoughts and before she could think. He didn't know her thoughts were perfectly clear, and every smack on her ass only served to inflame her lust. Her desire. Her wanton need to fuck.

Tim Jones walked around from her side and got behind Monica, and pulled her by the hips a step back away from the desk. Just a little bit. Just enough. The tug on her pelvis caused Monica to gasp, and shuffle back. Looking down Tim admired her sweet little ass for a bit. Enjoying the look. Ogling without fear of recriminations, potential lawsuits, and accusations. Yes Mr. Jones had it good right about then, and it was about to get so much better.

"That was punishment Monica," he told her. Reaching under her as he spoke, to undo the clasps and zipper on her slacks. "Now it's time for discipline," he went on. Both arms around and under Monica, opening her slacks and then sliding them over her hips and down her legs.

Bent over, Monica only whispered, as much to herself as anyone,"Oh my God." Her slacks down around her ankles now. Mr. Jones reached over her and across his desk to retrieve a pair of scissors. Monica watched his hand grab them and all she could think was to wonder a certain thing.

Why are they called a pair of scissors? There's just one of them, why a pair? And why a pair of panties. Again, there's only one, why call it a pair? And as she was thinking on this, her brain a bit overwhelmed by what was happening to her, something else happened to her. With a quick snippety snip of the

pair

of scissors, Tim tossed what used to be her

pair

of panties on the desk in front of her face. Smirking down at Monica as she whispered again, "Oh my God."

"You took your punishment Monica, now we will discipline you to see if we can't keep you from being late to work again," Tim said as he unzipped his suit trousers. Fishing his cock out while he sneered down at Monica. The sight of this uppity bank teller, divested of her panties, bent over his desk with her slacks around her ankles, combined with what he had just done to her had given Mr. Jones a throbbingly hard erection. He knew he wouldn't last long but he was gonna make it count. In for a penny in for a pound, and if he was gonna lose his job over this, he was a damn sight gonna make it worth his while.

Monica felt and heard rather than saw Mr. Jones getting behind her, and as she felt the tip of his hard one graze her butt cheek she bit her lip, reached up with both arms and grabbed the opposite end of the desk, and spread her thighs as wide as the pants around her ankles would allow. He knew what he was doing, and she knew what was coming, and even Jenna was aware on some level of what was happening. Having been in that position herself many times.

Without further pause or conversation, Tim Jones pressed his tip into Monica's warmth. Out of reflex she tiptoed and arched her back. She may not have had much experience and maybe hadn't been getting much action for a few years, but sometimes human nature just takes over. And that's exactly what happened as his cock slowly slid in. Tim grunted at how tight this mousy little bank teller was, and on her end Monica groaned in high falsetto at how his cock felt stretching her walls.

Mr. Jones savored the tight warmth sheathing his length for a minute-a full minute-before beginning. Beginning slow in deep measured thrusts, Monica begin to take her initial disciplining. And she took it quite well. Just a half dozen thrusts in and Monica was pushing back. A half dozen more and she was asking Tim to fuck her harder, as she pushed heself back on his cock passionately. It wasn't long after that, when he felt the finishing strokes coming.

Tim had pushed Monica's top and sweater up her back as he was fucking her, and as he felt himself getting close to orgasm he admired the pale pristine flesh and ran his fingers over it. Giving Monica a chill up her spine and causing her to gasp a high squeal. And that did it. In a bit of inspiration, Mr. Jones gave her tight little snatch one last hard thrust and then pulled out. Monica whimpered in frustration as she was near orgasm herself, but not near enough.

Stroking his slimy wet cock fast, Tim quickly achieved his goal. Cumming in a trembling mess, his cock oozed just one thick puddle all at once. And all at once over the small of Monica's back. Forming a thick little pool of hot slimy cum right at the base of her spine. In another bit of inspiration, and to make sure her disciplining took root, Mr. Jones then spread his load all over Monica's exposed back. All over her pretty white skin like lotion. Chuckling to himself, and watching her squirm and whimper.

"Fix your clothes and get back to work. And no more coming in late," was all he told her as he went to his desk and used tissue to clean his cock. Pouting, and not nearly satiated, Monica pulled her slacks back up and composed herself. Nearly in tears, but not from the humiliation of what just happened but rather, the need to cum and the need for more. As she left the office she glanced back but Mr. Jones was already back on his spreadsheets and reports. So she returned to her teller station, a wet sticky mess.

Grimacing as she sat down, Monica felt the sticky wad of cum Mr. Jones had spread all over her back soaking into her top. Jenna was at her station filing her long pink nails when she giggled and asked how it was. Monica realized suddenly how quiet the bank was at this time of the morning and with a deep scarlet blush, knew that Jen had heard everything. And that only served to make her swollen and unsatisfied pussy quiver. And made her suddenly quite aware that her panties, which Tim had cut off her, were ruined but still on his desk.

"Must have been good after all," Jenna giggled, as she saw the look on Monica's face. "Let me guess. You aren't wearing panties, and some part of you is very sticky now," she continued. Though it was less of a question and more of a statement. "Don't worry, you get used to it. I learned pretty fast if I wanted to stay clean it was easiest just to suck him off," Jenna finished. Smiling at Monica, then going back to filing her nails. So the whore and the good girl were pretty much on the same page after that, as fas as Mr. Jones was concerned.

That night, Monica spent another evening in bed alone, furiously getting herself off, and was of course late again the next day. But this time, so was Jenna.

(to be continued... )