Dana Swanson: Blackmailed Into Swapping

After all that had happened, Mavis Moran mused. Willie Quentin still wanted her to continue working part-time at the supermarket he managed.

After everything-Mavis was somewhat bewildered as she pushed her long, slender legs into pale blue panties, adjusted the double-ply crotch over her ample love place and arranged the cups of the matching bra around her firm breasts-she was still willing to work for him.

As she brushed her hair, she smiled at her expression in the mirror. At least, she knew Willie for what he was-or she thought she did. He was a charlatan-and he knew that she knew it. As she finished dressing, she wondered whether Becky Samon had kept her appointment the previous Wednesday to let Willie screw her.

Mavis smiled more broadly. "Theft, my itching butt!" she muttered.

Well, Willie had tried that with her-it had almost worked-but she had caught him up. Well, she had after he had coerced her and seduced her in his office. She was slightly puzzled. There had been no hint of resentment that she had slugged Willie in the balls and thumped his hard-on with a knotted fist when he called her earlier, asked her to work. Well, that had happened Monday; this was Saturday. He had had ample time to get rid of any soreness in that time. And it probably hadn't made him too sore to shag little Becky, Wednesday. He really had the hots for her.

She probably wouldn't have accepted Willie's urgings to work if her husband, Phil, hadn't called the night before to say he couldn't possibly be home before nine Saturday night. It was only noon and Mavis poured herself a cup of coffee, thought of calling Miriam Carr and Connie Quentin to join her-she wasn't due to report to the store until almost four.

But she decided against it. She hadn't seen either of her two closest acquaintances for several days. She shrugged. "I suppose I should think of them as friends," she mused, sipping the coffee and lighting a cigarette. An awful lot of "things" had happened among them in the past several days to regard them merely as acquaintances.

Connie's husband, Willie, had gotten to her, as had Henry Carr, Miriam's husband. And Mavis still didn't know for sure whether Phil had screwed Miriam that night last week. Maybe he had taken on Connie and Miriam both-in the same bed at the same time! He hadn't made it clear!

Mavis almost wished he had humped them both-good-because Hank had screwed her! She shuddered as she remembered that repulsive Ben Glover ramming his obscene cock into that dainty Terry Lewis. "Ugh!" she muttered. Mavis wished she could have avoided everything that had happened in the past couple of weeks-but Miriam and Henry knew things about her that she just didn't think she could stand for Phil to find out! Another thing that made her almost ill was that no matter how repelled she had been by what she had been compelled to do, she had enjoyed it with an almost animalistic pleasure. She may have started out in the sex act filled with revulsion-but she loved to fuck and be fucked!

The thought tormented her that maybe she wasn't as much a sex captive as she had pictured herself. She fed on sex-and Phil hadn't touched her in a couple of weeks.

Her mind was distressed and she contemplated having another drink. But resisted. If Willie made a demand on her today, would she resist his bed and his lecherous cock? A warmth fluttered through her and she frowned. Right now, rationally, she was adamant that Willie Quentin wouldn't screw her-but her female chemistry was responding to her mental gymnastics!

Becoming more and more disturbed, Mavis decided to go to work early and get away from her thoughts and memories…

At eight-thirty that evening, Willie Quentin left his office and strode straight to the checkout stand where Mavis was working. He was brusque and businesslike. "I want you to stay over until all of the local chain proceeds are in the armored van. You'll have to take care of the lockup procedure and receiving the two van guards. My cashier was just called away because of a death in the family and the assistant manager was given the day off because I thought it would be a light weekendright after a holiday."

Mavis nodded her consent and watched the tall, red-haired manager stalk toward the elevator in the back of the store to return to his office.

It had been a light evening. The other two checkout girls had gone just a few minutes before; the three stock boys, including Dell Emerson, Becky Samon's boyfriend, had gone at seven-thirty.

Earlier, Mavis had seen Mickey Lewis saunter through, buy a case of beer. He had avoided her, had checked out through one of the other stands. Maybe he was still embarrassed, knowing that she had seen his wife plundered by Ben Glover last Saturday night. Where had he been?

Fucking Connie Quentin? Mavis knew that Phil had been occupied, somewhere, by Miriam Carr!

At eight, Henry Carr had roamed through the store in plainclothes while a uniformed officer bought a pack of cigarettes.

Mavis knew that Hank was with the officer as she had seen them both get out of the marked patrol car. It made her even more nervous when Henry Carr ignored her and the uniformed officer had checked out a few stands away. Things she had heard gave her reason for uneasiness.

Shortly after nine, she heard men coming and going in the vast stockroom. Mavis knew they were officials of other stores in the Salt Lake City area, bringing their store receipts for Willie to tabulate and lump all money together for the armored van fellows.

Mavis left her stand and tripped a series of switches with a special key that locked all customer doors electronically. Any tampering with the doors set off an automatic alarm at the Sugar House police station.

All she had to do was check the doors to see that the locks had engaged properly. That left only two doors for entry and exit the side door for employees and the huge door to receive merchandise. The side door could be opened from the inside or outside, but only by using special keys carried by Willie Quentin and the assistant manager. The loading dock door couldn't be opened at all from the outside, but had to be unlocked by throwing a series of three switches in the proper sequence, inside.

Only a few lights were on in the store proper. A single light burned in the stockroom it lit the passage from the loading dock to the stairway to Willie's office. With her uneasiness mounting, Mavis lurked near the entry to the stockroom, waiting for the armored van to arrive. She wished that Dell had remained behind-but he hadn't spoke five words to her since what Connie and Miriam had forced him to do! Mavis shrugged.

She couldn't blame him. And she doubted that he even suspected that Becky was fucking Willie!

She wished the van guys would arrive. As soon as they rang the bell for entry at the loading dock, she would go in back, trip the switches and admit them. Then all she had to do was stand by until they took all that money, loaded it in the armored vehicle, and she could go home.

She wondered whether Phil was already there. She had left him a note on the breakfast nook table, explaining where she was.

As she thought about her husband, warm anticipation pulsed through her.

When he had called the night before, she detected a sexy promise in his voice. He had said they would have a couple of drinks and hinted at a long night of romping between the sheets.

She was startled when a faint bell sounded and she looked up to see a red light flashing beside it. The armored van had arrived. It would only be a few minutes before she could leave, get in her old car and hurry home to her husband's arms.