Under New Management Ch. 03

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Becoming the knight in shining armour.
10.9k words
4.71
69.7k
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Part 3 of the 5 part series

Updated 10/18/2022
Created 01/04/2012
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DontJudgeMe
DontJudgeMe
1,436 Followers

Thursday evening, Bret was back at his club again, working. He'd taken Wednesday off -- it was really getting quite hard working all day, first at Falkner and Foster and now here -- but his conscience had forced him back tonight.

"Hey Boss!" a well-known voice exclaimed as his door opened and a peroxide-blonde looked inside, "you busy?"

Without waiting for an answer, Stacey sauntered into the room, looking good enough to eat. Her impressive tits had somehow been forced into a black top that -- from the looks of it -- should have impaired her breathing severely as it was much too small... which of course only made her oversized bombs look even bigger. The top ended just above her navel, showing off her slim stomach. Her skirt was plaited in red, dark green and black and combined with her heavy, black make-up and knee-high black vinyl boots and black stockings she seemed like an evil schoolgirl. Tuesday, she had been an 'innocent' little girl, today she was a blown-out dark minor. Bret loved it! Just like she knew the audience would...

"Eh..." he said, staring a bit at her before finding his words, "depends... what... what did you have in mind?"

"Well," she flashed her dirty smile, so full of promise, "I'm going on-stage in fifteen minutes..."

"Okay..." Bret said, not comprehending.

"And I was thinking... how hot it would be to go out there and dance for all the guys... right after you'd fucked me." She looked into his eyes, her own dark and inviting. One look at her, and Bret's ability to resist was sapped, and he could only nod his compliant acceptance, his dick already hard in his pants.

"I..." he began, not even knowing what he was going to say. He didn't seriously think he'd be able to turn down one of the hottest girls he knew -- even if he wanted to. And he certainly didn't want to!

"Hmm..." she didn't pay any attention to his weak attempt at protesting and walked further into the room, running her hand across the surface of his desk, "Tom's desk... I've always wanted to do it on it." She smiled down at him, the challenge clear in her eyes.

Bret nodded slowly and stood up, pushing his chair back. Her smile widened as she walked around the desk and stood in front of her boss. She snapped his laptop shut, pushed it aside, freeing space for... other activities. With a quick jump, she sat on his desk, looking oh, so tempting. Her skirt had ridden up, showing off her sexy thighs. While staring into his eyes, she slowly licked her lips and pulled the hem further up, revealing her completely naked pussy.

"Oooh," she breathed, "she's missed you..." Her right hand slid down between her legs, rubbing her little, hairless honeypot. Bret stared transfixed on her fingers as they explored her own secret folds, until she lifted her hand off it again and held them up to her mouth. With a wicked smile, she licked her fingers, enjoying the taste of her own juices.

"Mhm..." she sighed in clear enjoyment, "want a taste?"

Bret didn't need to be asked twice, and soon his face was buried in her ready snatch, eager to taste her once again. She smelled as good as he remembered, strong, musky, feminine -- he loved it! The smell was only the beginning, of course. He stuck his tongue out and softly touched her, licked her delicious pussy, getting a taste of what he'd already come to love: a woman's nectar.

"Ooh, Boss," Stacey gasped, only too happy to have found a man who enjoyed licking her. It felt so good! Soon, he once again found her clit and began teasing it, just like she wanted, just like she loved.

"Oh, my God!" she panted, loving his attention, "oh Boss!"

Damn, why didn't I come in here half an hour ago? she cursed herself after a few minutes of inyense enjoyment. She could have spent forever enjoying his tongue -- but she needed to be on stage soon!

"Mhm, Boss..." she forced herself to say, "we don't have much time... and I need to feel your big cock in me before I go out there!"

He looked up at her, wet around the mouth and with a huge, excited smile. A woman needing to get fucked by him!? Hell yes!

He stood up and with overly quick movements, he pulled his pants and boxers down, letting his cock loose from its constraining cotton-prison. Having learnt something from his girls, he found a rubber in his wallet (that he'd put on the desk when he started working) and put it on, ready for action!

"Oh yeah, big boy!" the blonde stripper whispered, her eyes alive with desire as she eagerly spread her legs a little wider to grant him easier access, "come and take me!"

And suddenly her tight cunt got filled by him, filled to the brim! He didn't have much subtlety, he didn't have much experience -- all he had was an all-consuming need to feel her, feel the pleasure she could give him.

"Ah!" he gasped as her softness yielded to him, and he pushed all the way into her in the first, hard stroke.

"Umf!" she grunted, her expression becoming a little pained. He was big, she was not, and she wasn't quite wet enough for his hard assault.

Not that Bret noticed -- he just took her sounds as a sign of arousal and pulled out before thrusting into her again... and again. She felt so good!

"Oh God, Stacey," he panted, looking down at her hot body beneath him. Her big tits shook every time he pushed himself into her. God, that was sexy!

Her head rested on a stack of papers, her mouth halfways open, panting. The pain she'd felt at first was being replaced by pleasure as her body adjusted to his large prick, and she began moaning in desire and need. Her improvised pillow of Bret's work-documents was slowly sliding off the desk, but neither of them noticed, they were far too caught up in the moment to notice such trivialities. To do it here, in his office, on his desk that squeaked and creaked to the rhythm of him pounding her needy little cunt was incredibly erotic to the both of them.

"Mhm," she smiled up at him, looking into his eyes and seeing only a deep longing for her and her body, "so good, Boss!" She could feel the orgasm slowly rising in her body, the old, well-known feeling. It felt good, it got better but somehow, for her, it very rarely went over the edge into that mind-numbing bliss she'd experienced with him two days ago. She wanted it again. No, she needed it again!

Bret's problem was somewhat different. To him, the orgasm was only too near -- she simply felt too good. He had to hold back, had to get turned off despite the fact that he was fucking this near-perfect woman.

Brian Keller, he thought desperately, recalling one of his friends from school. His face, his hair, his stupid little beard -- everything to hold back! Brian... and Thomas. Sitting at the cafeteria... magnificent breasts, so big, oh God! He thought and reached out and grabbed one of them through her top, mauling it. So good... big and soft. I love her body, it's just -- NO! Brian and his stupid beard, oh God...

It was a losing battle. A young, in-experienced man like Bret versus Lil' Stacey's body -- no doubt where one should put one's money.

"Stacey..." he gasped, not able to fight back much more, "God! Oh God, I can't..." he shut his eyes, thinking if he couldn't see her, at least it would help somehow. But he kept thrusting into her, hard and fast, and he couldn't slow down, even if he wanted to. And he didn't, not really. He wanted to keep feeling the wonderful sensations, she gave him, never wanting it to end!

So close... she thought, she was so close. But she'd stay 'so close' forever, just like she usually did. Might as well let him cum, so he at least got his joy -- he'd owe her one, that way... and it'd cement him as hers.

"God, Boss," she gasped, "gimme your cum! Cum in me, please!" Her pleading words were all he needed. She'd given her permission for him to stop fighting -- no reason to keep doing it then, right?

"Argh!" he gasped loudly and everything turned into pleasure as he shot his cum into the rubber.

"Oh yeah! Yeah!" she moaned, might as well give him the best possibly experience, "cum, Boss!"

"Yesss!" he sighed and collapsed, not seeing any point in staying in his upright position. Her body was soft and wonderful to rest on -- if only for a moment.

"I have to go, Boss," she whispered a minute later, "I've gotta be on stage in... three minutes."

"Oh. Oh! Yes, of course," with great regret he pulled out of her warm, slick pussy, and she ran off, giving him a last wink before she went out the door.

Great pussylicker doesn't mean great with the dick, she thought a little disappointed, but resolved to get more of his tongue nevertheless.

---

The next day, Bret was once again in his office, working as usual. He was going over the profit-estimate for the next quarter when someone knocked on the door. Sighing, he looked up from his papers, "Enter!" There was always something...

The door opened and Bubbles, the tall, blonde stripper slowly walked into his office. She looked very hard down, not willing to look at him... or let him look at her. She was wearing a pair of cut-off jeans, showing off her toned thighs, a tight, white t-shirt with a large pink heart on the front and the usual towering stripper-heels. Her long, curly hair was a mess, though, not cared for at all but just hanging down, covering her face as she stared at the floor.

"What's up, Bubbles?" Bret asked, sensing that something was out of the ordinary. But then again, he didn't know her well enough to be sure.

"I... I..." she stammered, being unusually demure. Considering how good mood had radiated from her whenever he'd seen her before, even Bret, busy as he was, realised something was very wrong. What was it?

"Hey..." he said, "what's the matter?" He stood and went around his desk, standing in front of her. There was something odd about her eye... what was it?

When she finally looked up, he could see what was wrong, and he recoiled in horror.

She was sporting an enormous, black eye. Her entire right eye-socket was dark blue and brown and looked extremely painful. At closer inspection, her lip was cut too, giving the impression of someone who'd been beaten up quite bad.

"I'm sorry, Boss, I'm so sorry!" she wailed, "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry! I know I should be on stage tonight! I'm so, so sorry!" She attacked him and without a chance to even react, he suddenly had a beautiful, hurt stripper hugging him, clinging to him, holding on to him for dear life.

"I... I... what?" Bret asked, confused, horrified and unable to understand what the hell was going on.

"Please forgive me, please!" she cried, her face pressed against his chest, "Boss, believe me, I didn't mean to..."

"Hold on, hold on," Bret said, desperate for time to figure out what the hell all this was, "what happened?"

"I... I..." she stammered, still hiding her face against his chest, unable to tell what had happened. Embarrassed, hurt and oh, so sorry to let down her boss, she couldn't get the words out.

"Shh..." he shushed her and stroked her hair as he decided to try another strategy, "come here, sit down." He led her to the couch and sat down with her still in his arms. She followed without any protest, more than willing to be guided.

"Now tell me, Bubbles... what happened?" he asked again, still stroking her hair, trying to calm her down like she was a little girl. In many ways, right now, she was, despite her obvious, well-matured body.

She looked up at him, scared. Should I tell him? Will he throw me out if I don't? Will he hate me when he finds out? she wondered, unsure of how to proceed. She didn't want to disappoint her new boss, wanted him to like her. Wanted that very, very much in fact, more than almost anything. At the same time, she felt a strong need to do as he bade her, to tell him what he wanted to know -- what he demanded to know. They looked at each other for what felt like hours, and then she finally looked down and started talking.

"I... well, Kurt, ehm... well..." she began, "well, he was shooting up in the kitchen, and I knew what that meant, right? I mean, once he's high he wants a little somethin' somethin' as he calls it. But I was kinda in a hurry, 'cause I needed to get to work." She looked up at him again, her good eye staring intently at him, trying to gauge his reaction... how mad would he be?

"So you were in a hurry?" he prodded, and she nodded quickly, getting on with the story.

"Well, I told him I didn't have time. I told him I had to go... and I'm sorry! I know I shouldn't have, I know, I know!" she cried, "I knew he'd get mad. It's my fault, I shouldn't have!"

"Shh..." he hugged her to him, clearly seeing where the story was going but not really able to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

"And then... he slapped me, right? Said I shouldn't be such a stupid bitch -- and he's right! I should have known better!" She looked up at Bret, trying to convey how sorry she was and how she'd never disappoint him like this again.

"So he dragged me back to bed, and I told him I was sorry. I told him I didn't mean to... to disrespect him -- Kurt is all about respect, see?" she continued on, "and then he hit me again. Told me to shut up. So I did... I did. And then... then we had sex," she said, meaning she lay in the bed, trying to keep from crying while he raped her.

She looked up at her boss, trying to figure out how he felt, hoping he didn't hate her.

What a pig! Bret thought, unable to keep the disgust from his face.

"I... I tried to fix it," Bubbles blabbered as she misread the disgust, thinking it was aimed at her. She showed him her eye, where she had attempted to smear make-up over the bruises.

Has to feel like pouring salt in an open wound, Bret thought, never having experienced make-up on his skin in his life, has to hurt like hell!

"Yeah, I can see that," Bret smiled at her, thinking that he needed to calm her down and succeeding very well. The poor girl was obvious scared that he'd be angry with her, though he couldn't see how anyone could be angry with a girl for getting beaten up by her loser boyfriend. Well, except for not having thrown out the creep a long time ago...

She relaxed in his arms again, feeling safe once more with his arms around him. He didn't hate her...

"Bubbles," he needed to know, "how badly does it hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?" Determined, she shook her head. It didn't hurt that bad, and she didn't want to have a doctor look at her. He'd ask questions and he'd never understand that it wasn't Kurt's fault.

"Okay, good," he said. That was one problem off the list.

"Listen to me, Bubbles," he said looking solemnly into her eyes without giving her a chance to look away, "I'm not mad at you. And it's not a problem that you can't go on stage tonight. We'll figure something out." He could see relief, disbelief and worry fighting in her eyes, but he needed to talk to Tina right now. There had to be someone they could call and take Bubbles' shift.

"Bubbles," he said again, realising he didn't know the girl's real name despite them apparently being very intimate now, "everything's going to be fine, okay? Everything'll work out. But I need to go talk to Tina, so she and I can fix it, okay?"

It was not okay. The scared girl positively crawled up into his lap, trying to get as close to him as possible, not at all willing to let him go.

"Okay, we'll take that in a little while," he muttered. It could probably wait...

"Mr. Jensen," she implored him, "please don't fire me. I'll... I'll be good to go on stage it a few days," she promised, though Bret figured that was probably a bit of a stretch. Granted, he didn't have much medical knowledge but it looked like it needed a couple of weeks to heal. Nevertheless, he'd never be able to fire her, not the way she looked at him, begged him.

He stroked her hair, told her it would be alright and gradually she calmed down, and he could finally go tell Tina about the mess while Bubbles stayed in his office.

"Oh God, not again," his manager sighed when he told her the news.

"Again? What do you mean again?" Bret asked, confusion painted on his face. Did she know someone was abusing one of his girls?

"Look, Bubbles isn't exactly the smartest when it comes to men. Every now and then, her bad boy of the month roughs her up so badly she can't go on stage, and we have to get someone to cover for her. I'll give... Red a call, she's usually up for an extra shift, though she's not nearly as good as Bubbles. If she can't, Maria might... don't worry, I'll get someone" Tina guaranteed him, seemingly caring more about who she should get to cover for the hurt girl in his office, rather than the girl in question.

"Yeah, fine," he said trying to get his thoughts straight, "but... but what about Bubbles! She's in my office, genuinely hurt!"

"Yeah," Tina sighed, having been through this a couple of times before, "go in there, comfort her, let her sleep somewhere here in the club... and in a couple of days, everything will be back to normal..."

"What? We can't let her go back to that psycho! Next time he might kill her because she doesn't feel like letting him rape her!" he exclaimed, angry and frustrated by her lack of care.

"Then what?" Tina wanted to know, "she's not gonna go to the police. She wants to go back to the idiot, and we can't stop her. It's what Tom always did, and it's worked so far..."

Bret had to digest that for a while. It seemed so... so callous to just leave her be. She was a person in need damnit! More importantly, she was one his girls, and he had a responsibility to make sure she was okay.

But then again, maybe Tina was right. It was her life, she had the right to choose her own path... if only she could choose a less foolish path...

"Okay..." Bret sighed frustrated beyond belief, "I'll ask her what she wants. If she just wants to stay here, I'll do nothing more."

"There's nothing more to do," the redhead insisted, "but don't ask her. Tell her. She reacts better that way... Bubbles doesn't like having to make her own decisions."

Bret shrugged and went back to his office and his distraught girl, leaving Tina to drum up a replacement dancer. When he opened the door, the blonde girl on his couch looked up, fear clear in her eyes. Bret held up his hands, silencing the new wave of apologies she was about to unleash before it began. He sat down on the couch next to her again and took her hand.

"Bubbles," he said clearly, trying to impress upon her how seriously he meant his words, "I want you to go with me down to the police. I want you to tell them what happened and help them catch Kurt. Okay?"

She clenched her jaws and shook her head violently.

"No. No, I won't. They won't believe me, and if they do, they'll take Kurt away from me. No, please, don't make me, Boss," she said, not begging, not really, but more... asking him.

Bret nodded, accepting that Tina had been right about that.

But he couldn't let it go. His confusion was fading, being replaced by a deep, burning rage. An anger towards this Kurt who dared -- dared -- treat a beautiful, happy girl like Bubbles this way. She was one of his girls, and he wanted to protect his girls. It was his job now, right?

A plan started to form... but first.

"Bubbles, here's what we're going to do. You'll stay here, here in this office. I have an errand to run, but you will not leave this office while I'm gone, okay?" he insisted. She looked up at him, surprised by the sudden strength in his voice and nodded obediently.

"Okay. You can sleep or watch movies on my laptop, or use the internet -- I don't care. And when I come back, we'll talk about what's gonna happen from now on. Okay?"

DontJudgeMe
DontJudgeMe
1,436 Followers