The White Hart Ch. 02

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Continuing story of the sexing up of a local pub.
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Part 2 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 05/13/2013
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To make sense of this story you will really need to have read part one 'The White Hart' posted here in May earlier this year. It took me a while to continue as I got waylaid by a couple of full length stories I am trying to write.,. The third chapter is almost finished. Hopefully there will be a fourth chapter which will not take as long.

Hope you enjoy .... as usual please vote and comments, good or bad, are welcome.

Part 2

John's first priority was going to be Sheila. She wouldn't admit why she had taken the money. The 'Committee' of regulars eventually decided that it was not a lack of money, as, although everybody always wants more, she had received a good rise from John and now all the regular staff were on profit sharing. We eventually decided that with these interviews for another barmaid going ahead she was worried about her position as 'first bar-maid' and that she was conscious that she had not transgressed recently. She certainly had not had another beating for a while now.

We decided that while we were interviewing the other staff on Friday would be the best time. It would be easy to punish her, organise a vote so that she would know she was still the favourite bar-maid and show up which of the three interviewees would be likely to go along with our little games the best.

This was all mooted on the Tuesday night of the week that the interviews were to be held. John was a little disappointed that we had thought about holding such important events upon the same night. He was thinking about his sales and knew that two good nights is better than one very good night. However he was appeased when two of the newer 'regulars' asked if on Thursday they could blackmail their girlfriends into removing some of their clothing and persuading the pair to make out on one of the tables in the middle of the saloon bar. This in John's eyes would be worth a couple of hundred quid onto the takings of the average Thursday.

John called Sheila over and told her of the punishment he had decided. She was to receive ten smacks on her naked bum from John himself and another ten from each of the 'Committee,' that is Pete, Bill and myself. She would then have to continue to work naked for the rest of the night. It seemed only fair as an escalation of her last punishment.

She wailed and cried and promised that she would never do it again. She promised us all a 'little party time' on our own, but please, please she didn't want to take forty smacks and have to walk around naked all evening.

We told her the only alternative was to resign now and we would interview for two girls on Friday.

More wailing and crying, 'Could she be punished right at the end of the evening, so that she only had to endure perhaps half an hour of naked serving.'

I don't know why she bothered. It was exactly what she wanted, or possibly needed, in the first place and there was no way we were going to lighten the sentence. I did wonder whether I could barter perhaps five of my smacks for a little of that 'private party time.' I had still not screwed her in fact. Despite a lot of entertainment in the pub my love-life was no better than it had been six months ago. To be honest I still wasn't getting any. I had a few quick gropes with both Sheila and Arlene, though John must never find out, I did not want to get barred.

We sent Sheila off, wailing and crying to clear the glasses. It was not long however before we saw her being groped by some lad in a corner, her crocodile tears long gone.

Bill bought a round as he, John, Pete and myself decided to organise the little trials that our new barmaids should go through.

'Should we invite Arlene to listen in and advise us,' I said. After all she is part owner and she might be able to tell us if we are going too far.'

John was a little disgruntled at first vowing that 'the moment she tries to make it easier for them, is the moment she has to start doing the trials and I will interview her again for her job as part-owner.'

Sounded good to me. Fun even.

John called her down from upstairs on the pretext that Bill wanted to buy her a drink. It was still fairly early and she was not really due down for another half an hour. She normally came in about seven thirty for an hour before it got busy so that John could have an hour's peace and a meal before he was back on.

'While you are here, 'John said, 'We need to talk about hiring this new barmaid. I guess it will be not quite a full time job, what do you reckon dear, seven to eleven, six nights a week. Every day really except Mondays, they are pretty quiet.'

'So are you going to do the clearing up on your own, then John. What about these layabouts here who never leave before eleven fifteen, or even eleven thirty.'

Harsh but probably fair.

'True,' he said. 'I guess we are talking about midnight then. So thirty hours.'

'Do they all want to work those hours,' said Bill. 'Thirty hours is quite a long part time job.'

'They all said that they want to work at least fifteen to twenty hours and they know it is evenings.'

'Well there is a possibility,' I said. 'If we like two of them they may be able to split the hours and we get twice the number of girls. Win win.'

'Listen,' said John. 'We are not employing these bloody girls for your bloody harem. If you don't buck up and buy another drink I am thinking of banning you anyway.'

I took the hint and put my hand in my pocket. We were down at the bottom of our beers.

'So what little tests can we arrange,' said Pete. 'Would you like me to interview them all in the back room first. See that they are suitable like.'

'Good idea,' said John. 'Bring your Missus as well, see if she likes them.'

That put Pete in his place.

'I have already done the interviewing. They can all pull a pint, change barrels, wash glasses and work the till. And hopefully not work the till like Sheila. They have all cooked before in pubs so if necessary they could help prepare the food as well as serve it. And they are all pretty good-looking. Isn't that right Arlene? She was there at the interviews.'

'That's right,' said Arlene. 'All three of them seem to want the job, they could all do it and as John said they really are good looking, at least as good as Sheila, and that is saying something. You boys seem to appreciate her all right. The girls are, Jackie, who is thirtyish, tall, dark hair, from Scotland. Will you be able to understand her foreign tongue Bill?'

'Anytime she wants to swap tongues with me I'll be ready for her,' Bill gagged, 'I'll take the low road, if she wants the high road.'

'Yeah yeah,' we all laughed. 'You've got no chance,'

'And the other two?'

'Kimberly is a black girl of Jamaican extraction but brought up here in the UK. In Essex actually. In her twenties. Very tall, slim, fit, looks like a runner. Very pretty face. She'll be too fast for you Ben.'

'They are all too fast for me,' I said, trying to look like I was crying to get a little sympathy from her.

'That what I heard,' she said. 'In fact Pete here was thinking you might be gay. Is that right Pete?'

Luckily I knew it was a joke but resolved to do something about it. While my sex life was a joke I didn't need everyone else joking about it.

'And the third one?'

'Oh I think you will like the third one,' she said. 'Urszula is about five foot three, very blonde and with attributes that you particularly will like Pete. She is Polish, and has been over here about four years. She used to work in a pub in Luton but found it boring. She has moved into a flat near here with three girl friends. She broke up with her fiancée who lived in Luton. He apparently got another girl pregnant, so she walked. John promised her that there was nothing boring about this pub and that she needed to come in on Friday to see around.'

If Pete was going to like her attributes we all knew that she had big breasts. Pete was a tit-man.

I started looking forward to Friday.

'Well we only have a couple of days left to decide what they need to do, what tests,' said Bill with a glint in his eye. He could see them all in his mind's eye, naked, spread all over the table tops as he wandered from girl to girl with his twelve inch cock keeping them all happy. That's another thing that's not going to happen. Twelve inches huh. In his dreams.

Pete was probably imagining them lining up to put his twelve inches between their breasts as he tongued Jackie. Another dream that was never going to happen.

And as for me, I think I had them dancing on the bar, a bit like the film Coyote Ugly, except naked of course, while I got ready to plunge my twelve inches.... Well you've got the score.

'Frankly,' said John, 'I don't think we can ask them to do much more on Friday than help around the bar, pour drinks, clear glasses and chat to the customers. They will probably be a bit shocked when they see Sheila getting beaten and stripped, so I will be a bit surprised if we even have one of them left willing to work here by the end of the evening.'

We all thought about that. John had a point.

Arlene then came in with a brilliant suggestion. 'Are you guys all going to be in on Thursday night? How about if we invite them in for an informal chat and a few free drinks on Thursday. Elliot and Archie are bringing their girl friends in to entertain us so they will get an idea of what a regular night is more like without having to be involved in going round the tables collecting the glasses while they get groped.'

'Free drinks and girls,' said Pete. 'I'll be there and I know these two reprobates will be as well.'

'Here here. Less of the free drinks,' said John. 'I can understand free drinks for the girls, well a couple anyway, but as for you scroungers. I will run a tab and we will discuss your contribution at the end of the night.'

'If Jackie and Kimberly cannot make it perhaps you could ask Urszula to invite her flat mates,' I suggested.

'In your dreams,' came back John. 'That sounds like far too many free drinks for your potential bloody harem. It is the three of them and only the three of them. And as for you three, best you stay in my good books by ordering another round. It's your turn isn't it Pete.'

He never missed a chance to make money out of us.

'Anyway I am going to get my dinner' he said. 'You will be down here for the next hour Arlene luv?'

'Yeah sure. Don't wear yourself out eating your meal. It is going to be a long evening and you know I am off to my Zumba class at nine.'

'He is hardly going to wear himself out eating, is he?' I said. Unless you were being sarcastic that he may fall asleep.'

She looked at me like I had two heads. 'Oh you poor naive creature. No wonder you're still a bloody virgin. Where do you think Sheila is going now. Slipping out the back door for a fag? No she is off upstairs to give him a blow-job. Didn't you know?'

'I had no idea,' I gasped. 'And I am not a bloody virgin. It's just been a while. Don't you mind then?'

'Course not. I can have him any time I want. It gives me a break, and what makes you think I am going to Zumba.'

She winked.

Now I had no idea what was the truth and what wasn't. I was prepared to believe that Sheila was upstairs however. I remembered that she often disappeared when he did. It was a bloody nuisance sometimes when you wanted to get a drink.

Good old Bill changed the subject, 'So how was your long weekend at the health farm. You look good on it. I tell you we don't need these flipperygibbits of girls around here when we have you to look at.'

'That's very nice of you to say so Bill, but I am sure I won't find you watching me on Thursday night when there are three new girls all with short skirts on and the two girlfriends of that lot,' she gesticulated over the other side of the bar, 'taking their clothes off.'

'That's true,' said Bill seriously, 'But I will be able to see you Saturdays Sundays and even Mondays when those little slappers are not around. And talking of seeing you. Here give us a little flash at those lovely legs of yourn, before you go off to your boyfriend Zumba. Who is he anyway? Some black lad?'

We all laughed.

'I have to be careful now about bending over,' she said. 'Now that Ben there told me I wasn't allowed to wear knickers no more. In fact I am a bit surprised that he hasn't asked to check I was still doing it.'

Talk about familiarity breeds contempt, here I was with a tame submissive, not mine admittedly, at my beck and call, and I had hardly followed it up.

My mouth fell open I am sure, as I started to apologise.

'I don't need no apologies now Ben, but what with all these young girls, and that tart Sheila around it would show me I was appreciated every now and then if you did ask to check.'

I did all that I could to rectify the matter by buying a bottle of champagne. I knew she wouldn't be able to drink it all, wherever she was going, but she is a part-owner so the profit was going straight back to her pocket and like her a husband she is a pragmatist.

'A bottle of our finest house bubbly coming up,' she smiled, and then winked. 'Watch carefully boys we keep the bubbly on the bottom shelf as you know. Ooh, it is so difficult to bend over in this tight skirt, I'll just have to ease it up my hips an inch or three.'

Frankly it was short enough that we could probably have seen her pussy without her hiking it a little higher but this way we did get to see her glistening little arse-hole as well.

'Thank you Aline, for everything.'

'Oh and can I have a bottle of that champagne, from the same place,' said a voice over my left shoulder. 'Oh, are you guys going to be in here on Thursday? You could be in for a bit of a treat, although my girl Penelope over there, the tall blonde one, doesn't know yet. She is going to be the treat, haw, haw, with her friend Hermione.'

'Thank you Elliot, yes we will be here. John told us that you were having a bit of a 'celebration'. Or should I say a bit of a do.'

'Oh very good Ben a bit of a do, haw haw. It will be me doing the doing when I get her home, haw haw.'

Despite his silly ways and his even sillier laugh he wasn't a bad bloke, particularly if his crowd of Hooray Henry friends were elsewhere. We had shared a drink and a story or three from time to time when it was quiet.

'I'll say, Ben old boy that Arlene has got bloody good legs hasn't she.'

This was supposed to have been in a whisper I think but it was plainly heard by Arlene who was bending over at this particular moment getting Elliot his bottle.

'She certainly has Elliot. Arlene, just stay like that a moment and let us appreciate those lovely legs of yours. Can you see Elliot, they go right up to her bum. In fact I know you know, because we can quite clearly see her bum can't we Elliot. Thank you Arlene. But have you ever noticed them from the front as well Elliot? Arlene would you mind turning round just as you are now without adjusting your skirt too much and showing Elliot that your legs go right up to your bum there as well. That's perfect Arlene thank you. I know it's not your bum at the front but it is your front bottom, as some people call it. It's nearly the same.' In fact it did look nearly the same because she had obviously shaved it for the health farm.

Arlenes face was bright red, in fact the colour matched very closely with her lower lips which were poking out between her outer labia.

'Say thank you Elliot.'

'Ththththaaank you Mrs ...uh..Arlene... yyyyeeees, really attractive especially from the front.' He quickly paid for his champagne. I am not sure who was more embarrassed, him or Arlene.

She addressed us again 'You little buggers, well I suppose it was my own fault. I guess I know I am appreciated again. I must go and check on the kitchen. If anyone wants a drink in a hurry just shout upstairs for that tart. He must have finished by now. He doesn't take that long.'

John and his 'tart' were soon down and she did a couple of rounds of the bar clearing a few glasses and allowing the regulars a little sight of her stocking tops and often a little nipple or two as she bent over.

She came up to the three of us and pushed her way between us to put the glasses on the counter. I didn't hear any complaint as I lowered my hand on to her thigh, just below the bottom of her skirt and started to ease my hand over her bottom, bringing the hem up with it.

'Been nicking any more money then Sheila?' asked Bill subtly.

'I'll bet she has,' said Pete. 'And I'll bet she is looking forward to Friday night, eh Sheila. A chance to get your clothes off and that bottom of yours pasted a bit.'

'Well if she has been stealing more money from the bar,' I said, 'I don't know where she is hiding it, because it certainly isn't down her knickers. She isn't wearing any.'

'Here you leave my bottom alone. I'll tell John and he'll ban you. You see if he don't.' John had conveniently gone into the kitchen with an order.

'Think you're fireproof now you're giving him blow-jobs, do you?' I added with a leer. 'And, talking of blow-jobs, how would you like to make sure that my ten slaps don't hurt too much on Friday night? They could end up more like a sort of tickle, an encouragement, if you like. That is if we had a little private time out by the bins perhaps. You could see how my Ever-ready compares with John's.'

'If you're talking batteries,' she said with a smirk, 'from what I've seen of the front of your trousers you're more like a triple bloody A. Hardly worth talking about. Wouldn't even run a pencil vibrator for a couple of minutes let alone a Duracell bunny like me.'

We all laughed as she walked away knowing that yet again she had the verbal beating of me. Still, I did get to fondle her bum crack.

I was intrigued however that my suggestion had not fallen entirely on fallow ground as she wandered back with more glasses and said 'Of course, if those slaps on Friday night are sort of gentle and do encourage a girl to get friendly, well, who knows what might happen.'

As we all knew, she wasn't stupid even if she did steal tenners from the bar from time to time, mainly to be sure she got her bottom smacked.

She wasn't going to give me anything in advance. It was going to be payment in arrears. Maybe.

It was a quiet evening only livened up by a couple of girls sitting at a table with their boyfriends flashing their knickers at everyone in sight.

They were quite blatant about it so the boys must have known and were obviously encouraging them.

Bill called Sheila over.

'Sheila, do you see those glasses on the table where the four of them are sitting, that table with the girls showing their knickers.'

She nodded. She didn't even have to look over to know which table he meant.

'Well, I could be persuaded not to smack too hard on Friday as well if you spill this half an inch of beer in this glass over that girl's knickers. Just wet enough that she has to take them off. What do you reckon? Will she have the nerve to take them off or is she just a prickteasy little tart?'

Sheila never refuses a dare even without the promise of an easier time Friday. She held Bill's glass with the half an inch of beer in her right hand and collected two or three other glasses in her left. As she came up to the table where the four of them sat she appeared to trip and all the beer went flying straight between the girl's legs.

'Oops sorry love. Are you all right. Do you want me to take them and get them dried out for you. Everybody can see that they are all wet now just as they could see them all dry but with a small wet patch earlier.

Or if you want to do it yourself the toilet is over there.'

She continued picking up glasses without a care.

At first the other three sitting at the table looked a bit shocked and I wondered whether they were going to make a fuss to John. I know he would not appreciate having to buy them a free round of drinks to compensate them. Mind you as it was not their drink that got spilt they didn't have much of a leg to stand on.

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