This story was commissioned by Mike Lee. I've broken it into two chapters, and will publish the second chapter next week.
Though commissions are currently closed at time of writing, depending on when you are reading this, I may again be accepting commissions! Email with pitches, queries, or more information.
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"Welcome to the First Bank of the Nation. How may I help you today?"
Khyn Chin put on her best smile for the next customer to step up to the teller. She was a tall woman, dark hair with a precise step; Khyn felt a momentary pang of jealousy at the woman's height, at least one and a half feet taller than her own.
The woman seemed distracted, however, looking down at her touchscreen as she approached her.
"Yes," she said not looking up. "Ah. Indeed. I'd like to open an account with you." She tapped something on her phone, then stowed it in her purse. She looked up, and her bright, wide eyes surprised Khyn. This woman's makeup game was on
point.
"Well," Khyn said, giving her best smile, "If you wanted to open an account with us, we do have a few associates who can help you. I think Roger," she tried to catch the man's eye as he crossed the foyer, sheaf of papers in his hand. He didn't look up, his eyes all for the departing secretary who was packing up her purse at the far desk.
She did her best to stifle her groan as she trailed off. His words from her interview with him echoed in her ears:
I think you'll have a great future with First Bank of the Nation
. She had been excited that day, had even picked out a new outfit for the occasion of her second interview, and Roger's exuberance in her did not disappoint.
That was three years ago. Three years, and she was still at the lowest level in the branch, a junior teller.
Great future my ass
. The man thought only he was qualified to run business here, and any future he had seen for her merely involved her dolled up Chinese face standing behind the teller eight hours a day.
She blinked, realizing she had zoned out for a moment there. "I'm sorry?" she said, looking back at the customer.
"I said, I would prefer to have you open the account, Khyn," the woman replied, no annoyance passing over her features. She pronounced her name correctly the first time, to nearly rhyme with
keen
, with the "K" almost an English "J." This pulled a genuine smile from the teller.
"Your name fits," the woman continued by way of explanation. "I expect to bring in a lot of gold over the next few years, so to speak." Khyn stifled a laugh; apparently the woman knew more Mandarin than she, even if her name wasn't spelled in correct Pinyin.
Of course she should open an account for this woman. That made sense. She was only a junior teller, but surely Roger would understand.
It just made sense.
Her shirt, covering her A cups, seemed to tighten slightly.
She stepped into the foyer of the bank, motioning the woman to follow her. She would use Renee's desk; the woman wouldn't be in today, and would hardly care about Khyn sitting there for half an hour. The woman had fought tooth and claw into her position at the bank, and seemed to be gearing up to fight for Khyn's advancement as well. The associate had surreptitiously been teaching the junior teller the ins and outs of the system in her off hours, when Roger was away from the branch.
She pulled out the chair and took a seat, unlocking the desktop as she gestured for her customer to take a seat across from her. "What kind of account would you like with us? Personal, or business?"
"Just a personal account. Savings account, checking account, and a credit card as well."
"The whole nine yards," Khyn nodded. She undid her hairclip, letting her long, dark hair fall to her shoulders. She passed the clip to the customer, who put it in her bag silently, her smile deepening.
Her shirt was tight. Khyn rolled her eyes as she undid a button, then glanced around to make sure no one had seen. Her face burned, but the only one looking at her was her customer, who was staring directly at her chest in a nice way.
Somehow, that was fine with her. Gotta please the customer's somehow, even though her . . . assets, for lack of a better term, had never drawn much comment before.
She opened the systems on the desktop, putting in her credentials. That was another blessing Renee had sent her way: rubber-stamping her access requests, so she would have the required system permissions already to perform basic account actions like this.
"Your name, miss?"
"It's Ms., and Elaine Samarkand," the woman replied, as she took down a button herself.
Khyn smiled, as she typed in the name. "Could you spell that last name for me, Ms. Samarkand?"
"Of course," Elaine said, and she did. Khyn only paused in her typing to take down another button, feeling her chest strain against her bra. A part of her desperately wanted to know what the hell was going on down there, between her breasts, but the rest of her realized it was unimportant.
"All right, Elaine. I assume you have some form of identification?"
To answer, Elaine reached into her full cleavage and pulled out a small clasp. She undid it, and passed her a driver's license, then took the time to straighten her breasts, pushing them up and out.
Nice
, Khyn thought as she took the license, her eyes resting on the small hint of areolae peeking out of the woman's top. As if in response, her bra snapped loudly, the clasp in front utterly breaking due to the rising pressure. She swiftly pulled it down, moving to stow the ruined undergarment beneath the desk, but the woman held out a hand for it.
"Thanks," said Khyn. She passed the bra to her customer as her face burned. What if they had
seen
?
But no one milling around the bank foyer commented on her momentary lapse, even as they began to slowly lose their own shirts. Whew.
"I'll have to run a credit check, if that's all right," Khyn said. "If you would confirm this is a current address," and she passed the driver's license back, tapping on the listed address on front.
"Actually," Elaine began, but she was interrupted by an outburst behind her.
"Khyn!" Roger was advancing on the desk, a dark look in his eyes. He had never learned how to say her name, a fact that seemed all too relevant now. "What the hell are you doing?"
The silence in the bank foyer caused Khyn's face to burn a deeper red, as she pushed away from the computer silently. "I'm sorry, sir, but-"
The woman stood up, cutting Khyn off. She had an inch or two on Roger himself, a fact she used to her full advantage. "She was opening an account for me," she said, without raising her voice. Her hand trailed down to rest on Roger's belt.
The silence persisted, but the proverbial shoe was now sitting cleanly on the other foot.
Roger swallowed, his face revealing he could get as red as Khyn when embarrassed. "Oh," he coughed out, as Elaine stripped the man of his belt. "Well, I mean, all right then. Um. Carry on."
"We will," Elaine said. "Oh, and, be a dear and escort all the children from the branch? I don't want anyone underage here for the next few hours."
Roger nodded, not meeting the woman's eyes. "Of course, of course," and he walked away, pulling at his crotch as he carried out her instructions.
Elaine sat back down, and Khyn gave a sigh of relief. She adjusted her shirt yet again, pulling on the tiny buttons in the hope they would hold, for now. "You were good with the address on your license?"
"No," said Elaine, writing down a new address on one of Renee's business cards. She clicked the pen and handed it over. As Khyn took it, she felt Elaine's hand caress her shoulder, and shuddered at her touch.
"This is my current address, for the last two years at least."
"Ok, that works," Khyn said, taking the card and inputting the address in the right field. She pulled off a shoe, dropping it under the desk as she wriggled her black tights-encased toes.
It really was getting warm in here, wasn't it?
She heard the tearing of cloth, then, and looked up to see one of the other tellers ripping her shirt apart. The girl had already divested herself of her bra, and was letting the customer fondle her massive D-cups openly as she processed his transaction.
That was nice of her. Khyn absentmindedly brushed her nipples, finding them already hard and . . . was that a little milk? No, that can't be.
As if on cue, a small spurt of milk painted the customer's face, as the teller (Kelly . . . something?) sighed in release. Did she just orgasm, or was Khyn seeing things?
I mean, Khyn thought, presenting her tits was one thing, but Kelly better be keeping things professional here!
She found herself rubbing her thighs together absentmindedly, however, belying her own commitment to professional behavior. Her left shoe came off now, too, and she spread her toes across the deliciously cool tile floor.
She cleared her throat. "All right, then," she said, trying to find some steadiness in her tone. Her shirt took down another button all on its own, sending it spinning across the desk. "I've sent the credit check, and we should receive that back within around ten minutes. In the meantime, I'll get the preliminaries set up for this account."
She rubbed her feet together, enjoying the delicious sensation of nylon against nylon. She saw Roger emerge from his office out of the corner of her eye, straightening his tie. His shirt billowed out from him, all but the top unbuttoned. A customer trailed him, her hands clutching her bare breasts as she stumbled weakly.
Damn it. Roger always got the cutest girls, and never saved any for the rest of them.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, fingers pulling down her shirt. She turned back to Elaine, who was busily unbuttoning the rest of her shirt, pulling it off her expertly.
The play of her shirt against her nipples drew a gasp from her, and a further squeak of surprise when she looked down at her bare chest. Those were . . . they couldn't be
