Toby Opens a Bank Account · Part 1 (1/2)
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CONSUMER ALERT: This is another story (5th in the current series) about my fem-dom Top associate Toby, drawn as usual from real-life experience and then shamelessly embellished by me. There really is such an organization as the Watchers (known by a different name) although of course the members do not wear the gaudy secret decoder spy badges depicted in this story. More about the Watchers in future stories.
This story contains scenes of psychological dominance, voyeurism, self-sex, and female homosexuality (of a rarified sort). If such things offend you, please do not read the story. Otherwise, enjoy.
Toby didn't particularly enjoy standing in line at the bank, but at least she didn't have a job to rush back to after cashing her check. She passed the time waiting for her turn by examining the other customers, imagining how they would look with no clothes on, or how they would look naked, bound, and gagged, straining for an orgasm under her lustful supervision.
Toby also enjoyed knowing that many of the people in the bank were looking at HER (although she doubted that any of them shared her particular fantasy). Six feet tall, with spectacularly long legs, abundant auburn hair, and a strong, dangerous-looking face, Toby was used to being stared at and fantasized about by men and women alike.
When Toby's turn at the window finally came, she noticed that the teller was a small, dark, intense-looking woman of about 35, with huge deep eyes and long, tapering fingers. Toby admired the woman as she shuffled papers behind the teller's window, and gave the teller a number of glances designed to tell the teller she was being appreciated.
Toby received her cash and was about to leave, when she noticed a bit of jewelry on the teller's blouse, almost hidden by an oversized collar. Toby stared at the pin. It was a small, ornamental rebus; an eye, superimposed over a stylized heart, both of these backed with an old-fashioned pocket watch.
“That's an unusual pin'' Toby said casually, fooling with her money and papers, stalling for time.
The teller looked up and blushed. “Yes. I just got it last week.''
“And I think that the people who gave it to you had in mind that you would wear it a little more prominently'' Toby said with mock severity.
“Er, yes… so, you are familiar with this pin?''
“And what it stands for, yes, I am. In fact, I'm kind of a founding member.'' Toby smiled at the woman. “What time do you go to lunch?''
The teller looked flustered. “Uh, 11;30, but I don't–''
“Meet me in the park on the corner. Top tier of the ampitheater. Don't be late.'' Toby leaned over as if discussing one last bit of financial business. “Are you wearing pantyhose?''
“Um, yes.''
“Don't be, by lunchtime.'' Toby turned and strode out of the bank, hair bouncing, behind flexing, face grinning.
The teller shook herself like a wet animal and began to wait on the next customer.
Toby stopped by the drugstore down the block from the bank and bought the following; two medium-size steel mirrors, a roll of gaffer tape, a small box of disposable diapers, and a package of common wooden clothespins. She spent the rest of the morning prowling around the downtown business district and shops.
11:30 found Toby waiting in the topmost level of the elaborate, depression-era ampitheater that occupied the local park. This structure was a favorite lunch spot with downtown office workers; the seats, although cold concrete, were broad and fairly comfortable, and the tiers were arranged so that the backs of one row of seats formed a high screen in front of the seats immediately behind and higher up. One could see the whole park, but anything from the shoulders down was screened from sun and wind (and the view of others) by this arrangement.
It was a custom that whoever arrived first and took the topmost tier would be left alone, to eat lunch or whatever, those arriving later usually preferring to sit closer to the ground. So Toby was all alone at the top, as she often found herself to be.
The teller arrived just before 11:30. She kept her gaze averted as she climbed up to join Toby, and sat down on the bench near, but not next to, the taller woman who had commanded her presence.
“Right on time, uh–'' Toby said. “What's your name? I'm Toby.''
The woman looked up and met Toby's smile. “I am Anlili'' she said, softly. “I'm very new at this. Please don't be too hard on me.''
“Anlili…that's a beautiful name. And you are a beautiful person, at least, what I have seen of you so far'' Toby said, calmly. “Why would I be hard on you? Didn't they explain at the Watchers, this is about fun, games, and mutual pleasure? If you're doing this to punish yourself in some way, then I think you've got ahold of the wrong end of the idea.''
Anlili twirled a strand of her shiny black hair. “No, no…it's just that I am very shy by nature. It took a lot of nerve to go through with the initiation, and a lot of nerve to wear the pin.''
“I understand. Tell me about your initiation.''
“It's too embarrassing. I can't say those things to another woman.''
Toby smiled again, a reassuring smile with a hint of hot lust around the edges. “That's part of the point. You need never worry about being embarrassed about talking about your sexuality again. That feeling that bothers you is arousal; all your life you've been indoctrinated against `talking dirty' and `doing dirty' until your natural erotic nature is warped and stunted.'' Toby touched Anlili on the shoulder. “Here, look.''
The small woman looked over at the tall redhead. Toby took her large hands and rubbed the front of her own blouse. She stroked and teased the braless nipples under the blouse until two distinct points pushed out the sheer fabric. “Tell me that's not nice'' Toby breathed. “It's not embarassing because I don't let it embarass me. I like your looking at my body, at my hard, erect, pointed nipples. I'd like to look at yours. Are you wearing a bra?'' *** Anlili moved her head as if trying to break a hypnotic spell. “Um, yes.''
“Foo'' said Toby. “I should have told you to take it off. Well, if you rub your tits, will they get hard enough to show through your bra and dress?''
“I don't know. I…guess so.''
“Well, then, get busy.''
So the tiny bank teller, looking around nervously, tentatively began to stroke the front of her dress. “Keep it up'' Toby urged. “Take your hands away a second… Aha! We have points. Good girl! Keep rubbing those nipples. I want you to make them as hard as if a blast of Arctic wind had just blown down the front of your dress.'' Toby continued to stimulate her own nipples, now erect enough so that she could grasp them between thumb and forefinger and pull and twist them through the fabric of her blouse. The screen afforded by the lower tier of seats blocked all but the heads of the two women from view; to passers-by, they look like two women having a casual lunch and talk session.
“Now. tell me about your initiation,'' Toby repeated.
Anlili looked away but kept on stroking her tits through her clothing. “Well, they made me…you know…`do it'… on top of a table, in front of everybody-''
““Do it?'''
“Yes, you know..mu-masturbate…give myself an orgasm. I had to take off all my clothes and lie on the table with my legs spread and-''
“Any accessories?''
Anlili blushed. Her fingers tugged and twisted at the front of her dress as if animated by a mind of their own. “A little plug thing– a butt plug? Is that what… I had to have that in my…you know…'' Anlili caught Toby's glare. “IN MY ASS!'' she blurted, then looked around fearfully. Nobody seemed to be near enough to hear. “I stuck a butt plug up my ass, all right?!''
Toby grinned. “I'm sure it was. How many people watched you?''
“A whole room full, a couple dozen at least…men and women.''
“Did they get turned on watching you?''
The bank teller's large dark eyes widened. “Oh yes! Everybody seemed to be doing it along with me.''
“Like aerobics.''
`Sort of.'' Anlili took a good handful of blouse and nipple and pinched very hard. “One woman was doing it standing up, and she came right up next to the table, and she was talking to me, telling me how beautiful I was, and just jamming four fingers into herself as hard as she could, and when she came–she came right in front of my eyes–a foot away, a big flood of fluid gushed out of her, all over the floor, and she fell down and had to be carried away.''
“And how about you? Did you have a GOOD time?''
The small woman nodded gravely. “I came so hard I passed out. I came so violently I strained both thigh muscles and walked with a limp for the rest of the week.''
Toby rubbed her mons veneris with her large hand over her skirt. She sighed, and looked down and around to ensure that none of the lunchtime park crowd had drifted nearer. She grabbed at her crotch with her fist and vibrated the fistful of fabric and pussy. Anlili followed suit, in a somewhat daintier fashion.
“Now we are getting into the fun parts'' Toby laughed. “You know, you show me yours and I'll show you mine.''
Anlili bit her lip. “Suppose somebody sees us?''
“Then we adjust our clothing and go away'' Toby replied. “Indecent exposure among women isn't even on the law books, practically speaking. Besides which, that little pin on your blouse means you've got the finest, most expert lawyers in this part of the state on your side, if needs be.''
“But the bank–''
“Fuck the bank'' Toby said, with mock severity. She liked the way the phrase felt in her mouth, so she repeated it. `Fuuuck the baaank… I'm not interested in the bank. You give me any more sauce about the bank and I'll make you work the rest of the afternoon with two rolls of quarters up your ass, that's what I think about the bank.''
Anlili looked skyward, rolling her eyes. “One of us is crazy, and I hope it's me.''
“Why you?''
“Because I'd be terrified to up here alone with anybody as crazy as you seem to be.''
“All compliments gratefully accepted'' Toby trilled. “Now show me your pussy.''
Anlili hesitated. Toby just kept looking at the smaller woman, a dangerous grin on her curved mouth. Finally Anlili slowly folded up her skirt, exposing her legs to the junction of her thighs.
“Very pretty!'' Toby exclaimed. “What wonderful coloring–all pink, and tan, and brown…who were your parents?''
Anlil blushed. “My mother was from Sri Lanka and my father was Irish.''
“Well, they certainly made a beautiful child!… Higher with the skirt, and spread your legs; I want to SEE your pussy, not the general area where you keep it.''
Anlili silently obeyed. She tucked the hem of her skirt into the waistband and spread the folds to either side. Then she shifted her position on the concrete bench and spread her legs to a 90 degree angle. Toby stared. Anlili's cunt was a continuation of her multicolor, multiracial design scheme, with thick, tannish-pink outer lips, a salmon-colored interior, and dark brown inner lips from the apex of which peeked a rounded, pink clitoris head. The whole array was guarded by a healthy surround of fine, curly black hair.
Toby whistled.“Anlili, with a cunt like that, you're wasting your time in a bank! You should be on a pedestal in an art gallery, with two spotlights trained on your snatch, and a brandy snifter full of thousand dollar bills placed there by drooling admirers!'' *** The teller looked seriously at the tall woman. “What you're saying is that between my legs is good-looking, right? I mean, not just that it makes you hot BECAUSE you get to see it, but that esthetically, you appreciate it?''
“It what?''
Toby Opens a Bank Account · Part 1 (1/2)
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