Tanked (5)

She hurried up to the top floor. The caterers would be relegated to the first floor, and would not be able to see the upper reaches of the tank while she cleaned. She might not have believed it had she not peered from the lower windows, up to the top where she would be.  It was true, the only view from the lower windows was of the bottom of the tank. And for those in the catering area, the myriad of smaller fish at this level held their own charm. She’d seen several of them transfixed by the perpetually changing view. It was too bad that the squid were so fragile that clothing would damage their environment- or so Mr. Withers had told her. Then again, if she had invested a gazillion dollars on such a thing, she’d be pretty fucking careful about it too.

Thankful to escape the toxic atmosphere of the three men locked in perpetual conflict, she took her time making certain that this upper area was as tidy as she had left it last night. Peering over the rim of the tank, she noticed that none of the inhabitants were near the top tier.

That was curious. Usually Sid or one of the others were up here when she was doing her “out of tank” chores. Then again, by sleeping here last night, she was starting her day a bit earlier. Perhaps Sid and company were still sleeping in the depths of the tank. Taking advantage of the fact that none of the men had arrived from their breakfast, she slipped out of her dress and into the tank. The water was warm and for a moment she just lay back in repose. Memories of her dream floated through her, as she moved lazily across the surface of the aquarium. Eventually she gently bumped the far wall. Scooting along, she found the bucket with her cleaning gear, and got to work.

It was strange, working in the tank without the usual companions. No Sid. No little squidlets. No stealing her sponges, her brushes, and no pulling her wrists and ankles so she couldn’t move. She thought she should report this to Mr. W. Not that she was trying to be alarmist, but it was certainly not the norm of the last few weeks.

Careful to put her tools away, she climbed up the ladder. Peering down into the depths, all she saw was serene waters. Hmmmm. Broaching the top of the tank, she came eye to eye with Wyeth.

They pulled back, nearly simultaneously.

“You startled me!” she gasped.

“Yeah? Same goes. What are you doing?”

“Getting out of the tank. I just finished cleaning the rim. And Wyeth?”

She stepped up the last rung, then pulled herself up to the edge of the tank. He passed her a towel.  Absently, she took it, and dried her hair as she spoke.

“I didn’t see any of the squid this morning. Not Sid, nor any of the others….”  Her face obscured by the towel as she vigorously rubbed her hair, she didn’t notice his scowl.

His hands on her knees, he pressed her legs open, sliding his fingers up to the apex.

“You think I’m fucking blind? You sit here and shake your tits at me and I’m not going to react? You fucking slut!”

His body pinned her in place, his fingers rubbing her swollen sex. She was so horny today. But not like this. She dropped the towel, pushing at his shoulders.

“Stop! Stop right nowww.” The last word ended on a moan as his finger flicked her clit, then rubbed it quickly. His other hand shook loose of the fallen towel, and searched for her tit.  If he didn’t stop, she’d cum right now, right here.

Neither heard the door open.

“That is quite enough of that!” Mr. Withers voice was scathing.

“Miss, I do not expect your lack of clothing to be used to tempt my sons into impure acts of lust. Wyeth, I do not expect you to act upon your base urges.”

As if the words were a dousing of cold water, they froze, then Wyeth stepped away. She grabbed at the towel before it fell to the floor, covering herself from it. Rather than argue, she kept her eyes low while she fought tears of embarrassment.

She  heard the door wrench open, slam shut. She looked up. Mr. Withers stood before her, stony-faced.

“My sons are…” He let that one hang, then moved on.  “They cannot always control their reactions- when a beautiful woman…a beautiful naked woman is so…apparently…available…things happen.”

“Yes, sir. I…sorry…I…”

“Get dressed. There are other chores to attend to today.” He turned away.

“Mr. Withers?” At his look back, she continued hurriedly “The squid were not out this morning.”

He peered over the rim of the tank. “It’s earlier than usual. I’d not worry overmuch about it. Once you are dressed, come see me in my office.”

She nodded. Oh gods, she hoped she wasn’t going to be fired over this! It wasn’t her fault. Not entirely. Okay, perhaps she could have fought him off a bit harder but she was so fucking horny.


Mr. Withers smiled to himself as he took his private elevator to his office level. Everyone was reacting to the proddy atmosphere in the house. Wyeth had made a move on the girl. Her pheromone level must be pretty high to excite that boy. It wasn’t like he thought of Wyeth as dickless. Or not that often.

Shaking his head, he went into his office and prepared a list of chores to keep the girl busy until mating time.