USB - Unwanted Sexual Behavior Ch. 02

She had shopped online for groceries and essentials whilst she was out shopping with Veronique and had the food and beverages delivered, pre-approving access to her apartment with the concierge. She was thinking she could get used to this luxurious lifestyle where necessities were taken care of for her. She wasn't rich yet but she was comfortable and well prepared for the profits from PostPay to keep her and after her, her male counterpart in the luxury that she was about to become accustomed to.

It had been another long day and Taylor would have been more than happy to spend another night alone, this time in the luxury of her new digs, but she had committed to dinner and drinks with Veronique and she was determined to meet her obligations. Beside, Veronique was fascinating and Taylor wanted to find out more about her.

Taylor fixed her hair and makeup and surveyed her new wardrobe. She selected a simple but elegant black longsleeved cocktail dress and laid it on the bed. She rummaged through her new lingerie and selected a black satin and lace bra and panty set and Jonathan Aston 12 denier seamed holdup stockings. Imported from London they were a luxury she could now afford.

Being a woman was still very new to Taylor and whilst she had experienced some of the drawbacks of being female, the little delights such as wearing alluring lingerie were exciting. She slipped into her underwear and put on and adjusted the dress, checking herself in the mirror. She opened the jewellery case in her walk-in closet and selected silver drop earrings set with emeralds and the matching necklace and ring. Veronique had assured her that the expense was worth it as the stones accentuated her green eyes.

Taylor excitedly slipped her feet into the black Manolo Blahnik stilettos and took a turn around the room; she was getting better at walking in heels. She sprayed herself with perfume, packed only the essentials into her clutch purse and put her Max Mara Manuel black camelhair coat over her arm.

"Ok honey, let's take this new girl out for a spin," she chuckled to herself as she called the elevator.

She stopped in the foyer to put on her coat and saw a passing housewife dig her husband in the ribs when he stared at her. Taylor smiled and tied the belt tightly around her waist and pulled up the collar in anticipation of the cold wind that would greet her on the street. The bar-restaurant was only two blocks over and she wanted to walk to clear her head.

The hostess at the chic establishment took Taylor's coat and directed her to the bar where Veronique stood looking magnificent in a simple red Claudie Pierlot stretch-ponté mini dress, sheer taupe hosiery and cherry-red high heels. There were three handsome well-dressed men paying attention to her as she engaged them in conversation.

"Ok gentlemen, time for you to shoo, my friend and I have much to discuss," Veronique waved the men away.

"Maybe we could stay and keep you company. Two beautiful ladies such as yourselves deserve to be pampered. Let us buy you dinner," one of the men replied as Taylor arrived at the bar.

"Hello darling, wonderful to see you again," Veronique caught Taylor off guard as she pulled her tight and kissed her passionately on the lips.

Still holding Taylor in her arms Veronique turned to the three astonished men.

"Are you still here? As you can see we have no use for men," Veronique mocked the man who had offered to buy them dinner.

The men dispersed and Veronique released Taylor and then kissed her chastely on the cheeks.

"Hello Taylor. Sorry about that but rather than waste time trying to discourage those men it was easier to pretend that they have no chance of fucking us," Veronique reached for her drink.

Taylor was still taken aback but she recovered.

"How do you know they wanted to fuck us, they seemed nice enough?" Taylor countered.

"They are men. They have dicks. Unless they are gay they want to fuck us," Veronique waved her hand dismissively.

"Now let me get you a drink. Two Absolut Crystal's on ice please," she called out to the bartender.

"How are you finding your new living arrangements?" Veronique studied her from over the rim of her glass.

"I can't believe that less than a week ago I was living in a rundown walk-up, wearing department store clothing, watching the last of my savings dwindle, schlepping PostPay around town with no one showing any interest. It's almost like a dream," Taylor confided.

"Don't complain Taylor. People... women in particular, have had it far worse than you and have overcome their adversity. Just enjoy what you have. You think it is some kind of miracle but believe me, I've seen PostPay and I see the potential. It's your work; you've earned everything you have," Veronique said soberly.

"Thank you," Taylor smiled.

Veronique seemed to have transformed from a cynical bitch to her best friend in very short timeframe.

"Come on; let's get some dinner," Veronique swallowed her drink and led Taylor to the dining room.

They ate lobster and made girl-talk. Taylor was guarded and listened intently to what Veronique had to say, picking up her nuances and her way of communicating, storing the information to assist her in projecting herself as a confident, feminine, powerful woman.

They drank champagne to celebrate and over dessert they spoke business.

"Make sure you listen to your lawyers tomorrow Taylor. Make sure that the contract is exactly what you want it to be, that it suits you. PostPay is your commodity, make sure you keep ownership," Veronique warned her.

"That's twice now that you have hinted that Bradley Freeman might not be all that he seems," Taylor frowned.

"Oh Bradley is a wonderful man. We were lovers for a while and have been business partners for quite some time and he has treated me well and I have worked hard for him. But he is still a man and you are still a woman. Men... particularly powerful men, often see women as prey, especially if they are vulnerable."

"You came to see him dressed in your Walmart suit, eager to make a deal, you had been rejected by numerous other financiers. He won't admit it, he was probably not even aware of it himself, but you were vulnerable."

"Like I said, Bradley is a nice guy but it is likely that he would be unable to control a subconscious urge to take advantage of you. It's just the way men are. Even the nice guys," Veronique shrugged.

Veronique insisted on picking up the tab, despite Taylor's new-found wealth.

"Shall we have a nightcap?" Veronique asked as they collected their coats.

"Where?" Taylor asked.

Taylor thought that she would be tired but the contrary was true, she was hyped up and far from sleepy.

"Your place is closer," Veronique said straightforwardly and opened the door and held it for Taylor.

The women huddled together as they made their way through the cold quiet windy streets, their heels skittering on the pavement.

Inside Taylor's apartment it was warm and cosy; the subdued lamplight gave the place an intimate ambience. Taylor hung up their coats and settled Veronique onto a white leather lounge. She poured them both a generous measure of scotch, kicked off her heels and settled down next to Veronique and folded her legs under her.

"I like this place Taylor; it's good for you," Veronique smiled.

"You should like it. You picked it for me," Taylor smiled back.

"Well, I have taste and I think you might be getting a taste for the finer things in life too. You certainly know how to shop," Veronique sipped her drink.

"One again with your assistance. You have a very good sense of style," Taylor countered.

"Things are moving fast for you Taylor; enjoy it, but like I said, just make sure you remain in control of your destiny," Veronique said earnestly.

Taylor scooted closer to Veronique, her scent was heady.

"You seem very cautious and have a contemptuous attitude to men. I sense that you have been wronged by a man or by men at some time," Taylor reached out and put a comforting hand on Veronique's shoulder.

"Hah! If you only knew Taylor! If you only knew," Veronique sighed.

"So tell me. Tell me why you don't trust men," Taylor whispered.

Veronique's icy-blue eyes searched Taylor's emerald eyes and then she stroked Taylor's cheek affectionately.

"It is not a good bedtime story Taylor. It will give you bad dreams," Veronique's smile was blanched.

For some reason Taylor felt sympathy for this bold, cold, confident women, she sensed a vulnerability. She snuggled up to her and put her head on Veronique's shoulder.

"Tell me anyway. You said we are not friends but we are something. So tell me about yourself and maybe we can be friends," Taylor nuzzled her forehead against Veronique's neck.

"Ok Taylor, but I warned you," Veronique whispered.

*****

Katcha Kovalenko had just turned eighteen when her mother came to her with the proposal. They were living in a tiny crowded government subsidised flat in a crumbling concrete apartment block in Lviv and living hand to mouth.

"Tatyana's daughter Irena is making a lot of money working as an au pair in Germany. She sends her mother two hundred Euros a month and she is living well in Bonn."

Tatyana was their next door neighbour and recently she seemed to be living a lot better lifestyle than the other families on their floor. Katcha was well aware that her friend Irena had gone to Germany for work; Irena had been very excited about the prospect.

"You meet this man at Uzhhorod station on Friday. He will get you into Munich through Slovakia and Austria to meet the people who run the employment agency. This man is a good man, Tatyana vouches for him, he took care of Irena and now she lives well and her mother is well cared for," her mother handed her a card and a train ticket.

"So it is all arranged. I have no say," Katcha said heatedly.

"The factory where you work in is closed. You are out of work. We are nearly starving. Be kind to your mother, go to Germany and get a good job. You will be happy and I will have some money to live on," her mother stroked her daughter's hair, just the way she had when Katcha was a little girl.

Her mother knew how to make Katcha feel guilty and how to get her to bend her mother's wishes.

"Wear you best clothes, you will need to look good," her mother said.

The conversation was over.

Katcha came out of Uzhhorod railway station looking confused and a little frightened. She was turning the business card that her mother had given her over and over in her fingers.

"Katcha? Katcha?" a big bellied man in his forties who had once been handsome but had let himself go approached her.

He was smiling and he looked happy to see her.

"I'm Uri. I'm here to take you to Germany," he took her little suitcase and indicted for her to follow him.

"It will take us about a day to get there. We have a few stops along the way," they were walking to the car park.

They halted next to a windowless white transit van.

"Sorry about the mode of transport, we had a bus but it broke. You know how reliable our Ukrainian vehicles are," he joked.

"Anyway it won't hurt that you are incognito so to speak. None of you girls have work visas but that won't be a problem when we get there, the agency will fix that up for you," Uri smiled and Katcha nodded.

"Speaking of visas, better you give me your passport now so that if we get stopped I can hand all the passports to the police or border guards," he put out his hand.

Katcha rummaged in her backpack and pulled out her passport and handed it to Uri.

Uri opened the document and checked it and then put it in his jacket.

"Come, meet the others," Uri opened the sliding door to the transit van.

The cargo compartment of the van had been fitted with padded bench seating and four other girls peered out the door at her.

"Girls; meet Katcha. Introduce yourselves, make her welcome. Show her where the snacks and drinks are stored. Katcha is our last passenger at Uzhhorod, next stop is Trnava in Slovakia so if you need to piss go now," Uri grinned showing tobacco stained teeth.

"Up front is Chessa, he will share the driving with me," Chessa turned in his seat and waved.

He was younger that Uri and very handsome.

"Ok. Let's go," Katcha climbed into the van and an attractive blonde girl offered a hand to help her while Uri tossed Katcha's suitcase into the rear of the cargo compartment.

She watched Uri take a small valise out of the glove compartment and toss her passport in it. The valise appeared to have all of the girl's passports in it.

"I'm Anna, this is Gordana, this is Zoya and this is Olga," the girl who had assisted Katcha introduced her to the other passengers.

They were all girls in their late teens or early twenties, all trying to look their best in their cheap clothes, home-cut hairstyles and bargain-bin shoes. All of the girls had the same story: no work, no prospects, poor families, desperate for a better life.

They were all excited about going to Germany for work. They all knew other girls who had gone there and found work as au pairs, nannies, housemaids, hairdressers, waitresses and other menial but well-paid jobs. There was also the opportunity for improvement; some of the girls had taken training courses. They had all been recruited by the same agency, the agency that had recruited her friend Irena.

What Katcha found a little unnerving was that just like her, none of the girls in the van had heard directly from their friends now working in Germany. They had heard of their good fortune from third parties.

The trip to Trnava took around six hours. The van bypassed Trnava itself and just as dusk began to settle the van turned down a dirt road surrounded by deep forest.

"Ok girls. Time for a piss break," Chessa called from the front.

The girls had been snacking and drinking the pop provided for them by Uri and they all needed to go. The van pulled into a clearing and stopped.

"Sorry there are no facilities here ladies, you will just have to go in the bushes," Chessa chuckled.

The girls hopped out of the van and found privacy where they could in the low scrub. Katcha pulled down her pantyhose and panties and squatted in the long grass and relived herself. When she came out of the scrub she saw that there was another van parked in the clearing and two other men were talking to Uri and Chessa, smoking cigarettes and haggling intently.

"Ok girls, over here please," Uri called to the gaggle of young women as they emerged from the scrub.

"Line up here please; the agency guys want to meet you," he said.

"This is Peter and this is Gunther. They work for the employment agency," Uri pointed to the two brutish looking men.

Katcha suddenly felt trepidation and fear wash over her. She felt cold and numb but she did what she was told. The girls lined up and looked at each other nervously, a couple of them were obviously thinking the same thoughts as Katcha and began to shake and Olga began to cry.

The men spoke to each other in guttural German-accented Ukrainian, they were arguing about something. Then the two German men came over and looked at the girls. They treated them like livestock, lifting their chins, examining their bodies, squeezing them here and there.

"What's going on?" Katcha asked.

"Nothing. Nothing. These are the men from the employment agency; they will take you the rest of the way," Uri said dismissively.

Katcha did not believe him.

Gunther went over to the other van and bought out a roll of blankets which he dropped on the ground.

"Gunther will try the blonde and I will try that one," Peter pointed at Olga.

Gunther came over and took Anna out of the line-up, gripping her by her upper arm. He stopped to pick up a blanket and led her into a smaller clearing in the scrub. Peter, a large-framed man in his forties came over to Olga who was standing beside Katcha and tried to do the same but Olga struggled and cried out. He raised a hand to slap her but Katcha leapt in front of him.

"Leave her. She will be no good to you. She will fight and kick and cry and struggle. Take me. I won't give you any trouble, I'll show you a good time," Katcha said, almost retching as she spoke.

"Sure. Why not? I just need to take care of my needs right now, you're all available to us anytime we want anyway," Peter took her by the arm, picked up a blanket and led Katcha into another small clearing where he unrolled the blanket.

"You know what is about to happen?" Peter unbuckled his belt, unzipped his flies and pushed his jeans and his underpants down to his knees.

He had a large gnarly erection, just visible in the fading light.

Katcha was resigned to her fate. At least she had spared Olga, who appeared to be the most innocent of the girls. She began to unzip her skirt.

"Hey! We have no time for that!" Peter pushed Katcha down onto the blanket.

He lifted her skirt and tugged her pantyhose and panties down her thighs and shoved Katcha onto her back. She opened her legs as wide as the bunched up underwear would allow and Peter knelt between them.

"You're a good girl. No fighting. No stupidity. You will do well in Munich. Don't bite me when I kiss you or I'll punch out your teeth," Peter grunted.

Katcha knew that it was most likely an empty threat. Where they were going they would want the girls to have all their teeth.

Peter lay on top of her and poked at her vagina with his big hard cock. Katcha was no virgin and she knew it would hurt her if he put it in her unlubricated.

"Here. Let me," Katcha reached down and took the monstrous organ in her hand and began to stroke it.

Peter crushed his lips on hers and drove his tongue into her mouth and Katcha opened her mouth and let him. In fact she even encouraged him, using her own tongue on him while she stroked his throbbing cock extruding as much pre-ejaculate as she could. She worked the slippery fluid on the head and shaft, lubricating it as best she could.

He started to jab at her vagina again and it hurt, so Katcha guided his phallus between her labia and rubbed the head on her sensitive lips. She wasn't aroused really but the feel of his manhood pressing into her sex induced a Pavlovian effect and she began to secrete vaginal juices.

Peter was impatient and he drove his huge cock inside Katcha causing her to wince with the pain of it. She refused to let him know he had hurt her and she put her arms around his neck and her legs around his back and rose to meet his trusts, returning his passionate kisses.

Her body betrayed her. Katcha liked sex and the feel of this brute's body on top of her, his pubis pressing on her clitoris, his thick cock filling her sheath and the fervour of his kisses caused Katcha to become aroused. She held on to him tightly as he fucked her hard and fast and she rode along with him to a shattering climax. She couldn't help but moan with lust but hoped the other girls didn't hear.

When Peter had finished with her he climbed off and fumbled around pulling up and fixing his trousers. Katcha began to sob but she choked it down. She felt disgusted with herself but at the same time she was proud that her survival instinct had prevented her from being hurt. She pulled up her pantyhose and panties.

"You are a good fuck. You will make plenty money," the man said gutturally and then roughly grabbed her arm and dragged her back to the vans, stopping briefly to pick up the blanket.

Anna was standing back in line, she was crying quietly. Her nylons were laddered and her hair was dishevelled and it looked like she had the beginnings of a black eye.

"So... two thousand American dollars each right? They are worth it," Uri lifted his chin to Peter.

Peter looked at Gunther and he nodded. Peter handed Uri a fat envelope and they shook hands.