A Cousin Thing

Anyway, that's pretty much why I'd ended up joining an old school friend a few weeks later on a year-long 'gap year' travelling across South and then North America. It hadn't been before I'd exacted a measure of revenge on that prize bitch 'Patricia' though!

It had been simple really. I'd bought a sexy red bra and panties set and put the flimsy items into a special gift box, then I'd added a card saying how much 'I want to see you wearing these tonight!' before adding Jamie's nearly undecipherable signature and leaving the present at the reception where she worked. I'd even sprinkled them with a strong musky perfume to disguise any other odours from the mixture of cayenne pepper and chilli powder that I'd rubbed liberally over the inner surfaces of the panties.

Cruel? Maybe, but I'd decided that if she wanted to have a reputation for having a 'hot pussy', she might as well have the real thing! I'd like to say that I'd felt a touch of remorse when I'd sat in the coffee shop next morning with a wide grin on my face and watched her tottering very gingerly towards the doctor's surgery, but I'm fundamentally an honest person, so ..."

5.Things Start To Go Wrong

Of course I should have known better.

I should probably have ignored my mobile when it went off with the White Stripes' Seven Nation Army. I knew that it was Peter, that he'd need something, that he'd probably need rescuing from some stupid student prank now that he'd just gone up to Cambridge to study Law, but I hadn't seen him for nearly a year and my guard was down, so I'd picked up.

After we'd exchanged heartfelt greetings and some family gossip, he'd got to the point. He'd only wanted me to come up to Cambridge for the weekend to help him sort out something 'really really important' but it was a bit of a secret so he couldn't explain until I'd arrived. I'd poured a lot of cold water on the idea, but have I mentioned that he knows how to push my buttons?

"Please, please Janine, you're really absolutely the only person in the world who can do this for me! And it's only a tiny, little favour really..."

So I'd thrown some clothes in a bag, packed away my growing sense of disquiet, arranged to stay at a friend's place in the area and caught the 10:33 from King's Cross.

We'd met in the pub later that Friday afternoon. We'd hugged. His boyish good looks and charm worked their magic as usual. It had felt great. When we'd finally got some drinks from the crowded bar (don't students ever study?!) I'd prompted him to explain.

To his credit, he'd been a little hesitant and sounded vaguely embarrassed when he'd told me the story and he'd had the grace to cringed a little, well quite a lot actually, at my reaction.

"You've got to be fucking JOKING!"

I don't often swear, so this had caught his attention, and as I'd repeated the phrase with increasing volume a few times. It was only the craning heads and interested glances from around us that had slowed me up.

In summary, it had transpired that my 'favourite' cousin had got involved with a group of fellow freshers who'd found out about a 'secret society' that they'd just 'had to join if they were going to get on in life!' Okay so far. It was Cambridge University after all. Anyway, he'd passed all the entrance requirements, but there was an initiation test that he needed to complete as well. Mmmm - maybe not so okay. Apparently all that he had to do was to pretend to rob a jewellery store. Absolutely definitely NOT OKAY!!

We'd spent a fairly stormy hour discussing this crazy idea. I mean how can you possibly just 'pretend' to rob a store for God's sake?! He'd add an answer of course. We just needed to take something out of the door and then pop back in and hand it back, easy! Said like that, in all his innocence, how could you argue?! And as I'd got onto all the other reasons why it was ridiculous to even think about it, he'd knocked them back one by one. It had been crazy, but eventually I'd half come round. Maybe my gap year had made me more adventurous, because it had begun to sound quite exciting! Then it had occurred to me to ask him why he needed me?

"Oh, we need a good looking woman with a great pair of knockers to make this work!" he'd said quite innocently.

"What! You just want me to be your floozy... a bit of eye candy to distract the shopkeeper!!" I'd gasped, unable to believe my ears.

But before I could get my hands round his neck, he'd put his own hands up in mock surrender and gone on to explain the rest of the plan and in the end I'd slowly been worn down and capitulated. I'd thought that there actually was a decent chance it could come off, his almost juvenile enthusiasm was infectious, and I'd had a year of no real responsibilities so, risky as it might be, it did sound exciting!

So, this morning I'd got dressed up to play the part of his fiancée. We'd met up with two of his cohort who were to act as witnesses and we'd eventually presented ourselves in front of a small family jewellers called Steinham's in one of the quieter streets off the city centre at lunchtime. He'd had a theory that staff would be off guard if they were hungry!

Looking at myself in the reflection of the big plate glass window, I'd suddenly realised that I did look like a 'floozy' after all! I'd curled my hair and was wearing a loose, long red cardigan in the autumn warmth over a shortish black skirt, tight on my hips and with a long vent up the back to enable me to move! That vent gave an occasional view of the black stocking tops that he'd somehow persuaded me to wear underneath the skirt, along with matching black suspender belt and plain white briefs that were of the distinctly flimsy type. Underneath the cardigan was a crisp white shirt, tight enough to show to full effect my incredible new bosom. I should point out here that I don't normally wear the sort of bra that he'd bought for me the previous night. It was an engineering masterpiece that somehow pushed and squeezed together my normally modest 32b's into something that a Hollywood starlet would have been proud of! The cleavage was part of the master plan after all. Together with a long line of incredibly thin but strong fishing wire and a miniature clamp. That's why I'd thought that we'd get away with it. It was such a simple idea.

I'd better explain.

The miniature clasp was clipped to my waist belt and the thin, almost invisible wire attached to it ran up the front of my shirt, hidden by the buttons before looping over the top unopened button, and diving between my trapped boobs back inside my shirt to run along some rings that he'd had sewn on the underside of the bra, and up along one of the bra straps up to a large, silver broach that sat on top of shirt collar. You simply pulled the silver broach hard down my back and whatever was attached to the clasp at the other end of the line was dragged up my front, inside my shirt to nestle squarely between my squashed up boobs.

Simple.

And it had worked! We'd had multiple successful run-throughs before I'd finally given in.

Now that we'd stepped inside the shop though, I could feel my pulse racing, and I was sure that I must be blushing. It wasn't a big shop really, just three largish display cabinets, waist high and brightly lit, full of glittering trays. There was a small, walnut desk in one corner, with a large leather armchair at its side. The carpeting was a lovely cream with a deep, plush pile that felt like you bounced at each step further inside. As we'd entered it had seemed quite crowded. There were four people inside, a short, middle aged woman in a well tailored, smart grey skirt and white blouse who was talking to a stocky man of similar age in a dark blue suit. Our entrance had interrupted their discussion, and with a smile of greeting or maybe apology, the man had left though a door at the rear of the shop. I'd glanced back at the front window to make sure that our two 'observers' were in position and been slightly concerned about how shifty they'd looked as they pretended to browse through the window!

The lady had come forward and introduced herself warmly as 'Susan', the shop manager. She'd turned and beckoned forward her assistants, who she'd described as a niece and nephew who were doing a bit of 'work experience'. One, Mary, was a rather slim blonde young woman dressed in a short white dress covered in an old-fashioned floral print. The other was a tall and gangly young man called James, dressed in smart fawn slacks and a garish, bright red shirt. He had a rather engaging shy smile under a mop of long brown hair which I'd found quite attractive for some strange reason.

And then Peter had taken over. He'd sounded like a season pro con-man!

I'd looked at him in amazement as he'd told her that we were newly engaged, about how we'd met recently on an American back-packing expedition (!), and how we'd fallen madly in love and just had to get married 'as soon as we possibly could'. Hence the need for a fancy, and very expensive, ring. Could they show us something? The woman's bright hazel eyes had lit up at the story and maybe at the mention of 'expensive' and in no time at all we'd been led to one of the cabinets and soon had tray after tray of really fabulous looking diamonds in front of us. The two assistants were kept busy getting out new stuff until rejected rings had been scattered all over the surface.

That had been the time to put the plan into action.

Peter had picked up an absolutely giant diamond with lots of surrounding emeralds set in white gold. When I'd noticed the price tag my eyes had gone saucer shaped, but he'd held it up to the light, and told me to try it on. God it had looked good. Not for the first time in life I'd wondered what it would be like to be rich!

So, as planned I'd put it on, twisted round slightly to hold it up to the light and it hadn't been difficult to make some very encouraging noises. All eyes were on my hand and the ring, and I'd felt Peter's hand on my waist as he'd quickly pulled the clamp off my belt and onto one of the discarded rings. Then he'd been by my side again, taking my wrist and lifting my hand higher into the light before I felt a sharp tug on the ring at the back of my neck. I'd instinctively frozen in position as I'd felt the fishing wire move around my bra, and I'd jumped a little as I'd felt the cold sensation of the captured ring dragged into my cleavage to nestle into the soft warmth between my breasts!

I'd also swallowed hard, convinced that I must look guilty as hell. My heart was racing. I'd known then and there that I really wasn't cut out for a life of crime!

But, miraculously, it seemed to have worked. All we needed to do was wrap things up and get outside and then we could 'own up' and I'd stop feeling like a hardened criminal!

Peter had still been on top form. We'd agreed to buy the ridiculously expensive ring, but he'd said that he wanted to get his mother to see it as well. Could we come back later and finalise the deal?

"Of course sir. We'll put it aside for you. How will you wish to pay? Credit card? No problem."

I think that the rather artificial grin that I'd been wearing on my face since the ring had landed between my boobs was starting to look a bit strained but as we neared the door, it was finally developing into a more natural look. Or maybe it was a touch of hysteria?

Whatever, we'd reached the door, success was in sight and Susan was about to open it for us, when the door at the back of the room shot open and the man had re-appeared striding purposefully across the shop with an authoritative '"Hold on!"

I'd frozen mid-step even as his hand had clamped itself on my arm. He might not have been tall, but he was very strong .

"What?" gasped Susan in surprise, and then, "No David, you can't do that...oh!"

The latter exclamation came about because he'd quickly unbuttoned the top of my shirt and shoved his fingers roughly between my up-thrust orbs, rummaged around for a second before holding the captured ring up for all to see!

There was a shocked silence for quite a few minutes.

"How...?" was all I'd managed to gasp weakly in the end. He'd glanced upward to the ceiling in the corner and I'd seen the ubiquitous security camera. He'd obviously had a good view of our master plan from the back somewhere!!

I was still struck dumb by a toxic mixture of guilt and shame but, to his credit, Peter had quickly jumped in with an explanation. Basically, with his boyish charm and innocent expectation that all would be well, he'd just told the truth. Unfortunately, with a sinking feeling in my heart I'd realised how far-fetched it sounded now. But then he'd thrown in the clinching argument.

"My colleagues are outside. They'll tell you that it's true..."

We'd all twisted round, only to see the fast receding backs of his 'colleagues' as they legged it quickly down the street and out of sight round a corner!

"Oh..." said Peter.

"Fuck!!" said I.

That was when I'd given Peter the first of my venomous glances!

6.Hobson's Choice

So here we are, back to the present. And in deep manure!

Peter was still staring disbelievingly after his departed lifelines. Susan and her two assistants were still frozen in shock, open mouthed, but my captor still held me tightly by the arms as he manoeuvred me away from the door.

"Okay Susan, better get on to the police," he said as he fished out the rest of my burglary kit from my bra, indicating the telephone on the little desk.

I closed my eyes briefly in frustrated disbelief at the position I was now in. How could I have been so stupid!!?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" I repeated quietly as I let out a long breath. It was heartfelt. Have I already said that I don't normally swear?

"I'd like to, but I don't think this is the time!" laughed my captor nastily, still holding me tightly. It turned out that he was the shop manager's elder brother.

By now Susan had reached the phone and was picking it up. I was getting desperate. So was Peter and he had another go at explaining, this time concentrating on the pleading part! I didn't hold out much hope when 'my' man laughed again, but interestingly, Susan had paused with her hand on the phone. Was there a touch of sympathy in that look of puzzlement, and then enlightenment that flashed across her face before she waved 'David' to come over to her?

I was finally released from his vice like grip and rubbed my arms as he left me, but not before positioning the younger family members in front of the door. They were both looking confused, yet interested. This obviously wasn't in their original 'work experience' expectations!

Peter came over to stand beside me as we watched the two older staff whisper. I was concentrating so hard to try and pick out words that I almost forgot to take advantage of his proximity. But when I'd given up straining to hear, I gave him a sharp kick on the ankle and glared at him again. I knew that it was really my fault that I'd given in to this stupid idea, but it did make me feel slightly better!

Eventually Susan and David seemed to have overcome their initial disagreement, and reached some sort of consensus. David grabbed hold of a piece of paper from a desk drawer, gave me a peculiar look and scribbled down something fairly quickly. In the mean-time Susan had walked over to her niece and nephew and whispered in their ears too. Both of them had them same reaction, their eyes widening, their mouths opening in silent gasps and both snatching embarrassed looks in our direction.

I was confused, and a little worried. What the hell was going on? Mind you at least the phone call to the police seemed to have been dropped for the moment! Then Susan came over to us, her face looking a little flushed.

"I know that I'm probably being way too lenient, but I actually half believe some of that twaddle that you've just come out with. However we're not totally sure, and even if it is true, you need to make some sort of payment for what you've done. As it happens, there is something that you can do for us, but you'll need to agree to this. She held out her hand for the paper that David had been writing at the desk.

My heart was suddenly beating hard again. This sounded fantastic. Maybe we were going to get away with it after all? And if it meant signing a paper that said something like 'I'll never do anything naughty like robbing a jewellery store ever again' well so be it. Bring it on!

I grabbed hold of the paper and my sudden euphoria took a quick dive! I looked into Peter's eyes as he read it too. They widened and then his mouth opened, but no words came out. I looked again to make sure that I hadn't misread.

'We the undersigned hereby agree to provide sexual services for the staff of Steinham's Jewellery Store as and when requested for the rest of this day..."

Susan waited a few minutes for it to sink in, then she leaned forward so that her niece and nephew couldn't hear, "You see they've had a very sheltered upbringing in the country so they've only very limited experience of sex and David and I were only just saying yesterday how good it would be if we could provide them with some willing partners while they were with us..." She stopped for a moment as she held both our gazes for a second before continuing, "...you both look pretty hot, and I'm guessing that you're both sexually active, and even if you're not exactly 'willing' that's your penalty ...if you sign...otherwise ...".

I looked at Peter, and caught him glancing speculatively at Mary by the door. The little sod! Typical man! It was hardly much of a penalty for him!! But, to be fair, he did drag his gaze guiltily back to me before I could kick him again, and then acted the perfect gentleman.

"I'm sorry, but you clearly don't know us. My cousin is a highly respectable young woman and I can't possibly agree to such a scandalous suggestion ... you'd better call the police."

My mind was slowly getting into gear though. Clearly Peter either hadn't foreseen the possible consequences of a police conviction on his future career after Uni, even if they let him stay on, or maybe he did and he really would sacrifice everything for me? Well, it was his bloody idea after all! However, whatever his motives, and I was inclined to be lenient, there was also the possible blot on my impending career at the bank to consider. A robbery conviction? No, that really wouldn't go down well at all!

This time it was my turn to flash a quick speculative glance at James by the door. He actually did look quite attractive in a youthful sort of way. Maybe it was the name that did it. James ...jamie? Not that there was any similarity between them, but it made me think of the fact that I hadn't been with anyone since my split with the traitorous Jamie, and my hormones were starting to interfere with my thought processes!

In the end I amazed Peter by doing a quick bit of negotiating, setting an end time of 6 o'clock, their normal closing time, to the arrangement, scrawling my signature at the bottom of the paper, and thrusting it into his hand with a peremptory "Sign this stupid!"

He held my gaze for a long few seconds, checking that I hadn't just gone totally mad, but eventually he gave me a kind of nod of thanks and added his signature too. For better or worse, we were committed!

7.Gentle Beginnings

The next few minutes were weird. Nobody moved!

It was as if no one could quite comprehend what had just happened. Susan looked at the signed document, showed it to David, then strode away and placed it on the desk. I wondered for a second if they'd noticed that I'd signed it 'Minnie Mouse', but David caught my eye, smiled and motioned to the camera. They'd have proof that I'd signed the document anyway!