Karma Comes Due

I reached down and picked up the bag, looking through it. There was a variety of short and sheer lycra dresses, shirts, and miniskirts all in the dealership colors. The dealer's logo was on most of them. I reached the bottom of the bag without finding any underwear or bras. I started to reach for my own from the floor when Mr. Simmons spoke again. "You won't need those either. If we do want you to wear underwear, we'll provide you with something a little more fun."

I stood looking at the bag for a moment before reaching in and pulling out the clothes, one by one, holding them up to see if I could find something I liked and would feel comfortable in. All of them were sizes smaller than I normally wore. I almost said something, but a look at Mr. Simmons told me all I needed to know. I pulled a lycra dress over my head, worming and wiggling my way into it, tugging it into place finally. It rode high on my thigh, the fabric tight around my body, almost sheer, stretched so tight. The dress was so small, my breasts were pressed a little flat and cleavage popped out of the top since there was little room inside. I made a few final adjustments without the benefit of a mirror so that the thin fabric covered my nipples and I self-consciously tugged the dress as low as I could which only exposed more breasts up above, still feeling almost naked. Edward watched, smirking as he sipped his drink. Hearing me stop moving around, Mr. Simmons turned from the window to look, smiling as he leered at me, head to toe. "That will do." Sneering and with sarcasm, he raised his glass in a mock toast "Welcome to the team!". Then turning to Greg "Take her and get her trained. I'll check on you both later."

The rest of the day and into the following morning, Greg spent teaching me the basics of car sales. It was awkward, me in the tight, short dress and so soon after he had been ordered to have sex with me, having only just ducked out for a moment to clean up in the restroom. He focused on the training and I followed along when he had customers, each of us acting as if nothing had happened in the office. I think we were both embarrassed about how the whole thing had happened with Edward and Mr. Simmons there. Greg seemed nervous and avoided looking at me as we trained. We soon figured out that when the customers were a family or women, I was an unwelcome distraction that made them nervous. I would find my way to the reception desk or find something else to do while Greg did his thing. If the customer was a man; however, I would stay with Greg and act impressed, laughing and flirting, trying to help Greg make the sale so that I could work off my debt. Everyone else at the dealership left me alone. I was beginning to think that this wasn't going to be so bad. Come to work, wear a skimpy outfit and flirt a bit. Not the worst punishment and better than being fined hundreds of thousands of dollars, for sure!

Just before lunch, Mr. Simmons came down and guided me to a small meeting room off to the side of the lobby. Once I was in, he closed the door. The room had a table and four chairs in it, but with Mr. Simmons and the door closed, it suddenly felt tiny. My heart was racing and there was no place to run or hide. Just us in the small room. He watched me for long moments, smirking as if he could tell how nervous he made me, drawing it out before finally speaking. "People are nervous about you. I want them to get to know you better and relax. So, each day at lunch you will come to this room and strip down." Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small black sleeping mask and handed it over to me. "Put that on each time you are in here. That way you won't know who comes to visit and they can get used to you without you knowing who it is that visits." He stared at me as I looked at him and then the mask, shocked. His voice deepened as he ordered me to comply. "I said, put the mask on and undress."

I moved to obey, my hands shaking nervously again. I pulled the bottom of the tight lycra dress up and over my head, pulling the sleep mask off in the process. I fumbled with the dress, looking for the mask. Finally, I saw it and pulled it back over my eyes. I stood silently but I could feel the impatience of Mr. Simmons as he waited for me. I tried to be still, but my nervous breathe and heartbeat seemed to echo around the room. My arms wanted so desperately to cover myself. My hands fidgeted at my sides. I could hear Mr. Simmons moving around, but couldn't tell what he was doing. My mind raced as I suddenly realized this was probably going to be the moment he was going to have sex with me. My nervousness was almost a panic now. I tried to calm down and focus on the darkness of the mask. It would just be a thing...just like in the office with Greg. A few moments and it would be over. I survived that and I could survive this.

"Bend over the table and spread your legs. You will not speak and you will always obey. Am I clear?" He spoke in that deep tone he took when issuing an order.

"Yes...yes" I said, my voice cracking on the first word as I tried to speak normally and not seem scared.

"Good! Enjoy your lunch break." He sounded amused. The door opened and I could hear him walking away. I hadn't heard the door close. Had I? Surely he must have closed it, right? The room was right by the lobby. A customer walking by could easily see me if he left the door open. No matter what he wanted of me, he wouldn't risk offending a customer, would he? My mind struggled to remember if I had heard anything and to force myself to not peek or move, staying bent over the table, legs spread wide. Time passed, seeming like forever but probably not too long when I heard footsteps. Strong, heavy footsteps. Male footsteps. Someone entered the room and shut the door. I realized the door had been open all this time! I could hear the rustle of clothing and heavy breathing. Hands rubbing along my body and the strong smell of sweat and grease. Then, after a few moments, his hard cock pushing its way inside me. Leaning over me, he pumps and grinds until he comes, gasping near my left ear as he lays over me. He lingers, standing close behind me and then pulls out. My pussy throbs, empty of his cock now, but no liquid drips out. I realize the rustling earlier must have been him putting on a condom. Thank God!

More noise and then the door opens again. Two sets of footsteps, one entering,one leaving and the door closes. In shock, I realize there is someone new in the room who must have been waiting outside while the last visitor had been having sex with me. More noises and I can now hear the condom pouch and the faint smell of lubricant since I am listening for it. The hands on my body again, caresses turn to rough groping and then another cock forced inside me. He grunts, thrusting in and out, lasting much longer than the first man did. Blindfolded, my other senses seem keener. His cologne seems stronger than I might have otherwise thought. At least it isn't the sweaty scent of the last man. The sound of our skin slapping together seems louder in the quiet of the small room, as does his heavy breathing. And mine, I realize suddenly, bracing myself against the edge of the table.

So it continues for five more visitors. Each seems to have waited in the hallway for his turn. I am nervous and scared, but it is hard to be panicked for that long. It goes on long enough that it almost becomes routine, I'm shocked to realize. How long? An hour maybe? Then, I hear the door close and the smell of the expensive cologne I recognize as that Mr. Simmons wears. Long silence as I assume he gazes at me, probably smirking as he enjoys the scene before him. "That seemed to go well. I didn't expect that to be such a popular icebreaker! I can't wait to see how it goes tomorrow." I hear a snort that must be him snickering at his own little joke. "You may dress now and get back to work with Greg." He leaves and the door shuts before I can really begin to move to obey. His words sink in with new meaning now that the lunch is over. Tomorrow? All this again? I fight back tears of frustration as I move automatically to dress, not wanting to upset Mr. Simmons and make a bad situation worse.

To be continued...