Chapter Three
Nine Months Past...
I'd been meeting with clients for a couple of weeks when I got a text from Marla asking for a face-to-face after satisfying my last client. Marla had been great about letting me stash newly bought clothes and shoes in boxes I was stacking in the storage closet next to her office. There was no way I could explain these expensive and very risqué clothes to my mom. Dresses showing so much bosom above and so much thigh below would have Mom reaching for a drink. Then another and another... I couldn't even imagine what she would say about my beloved black leather, thigh length boots with stiletto heels.
Something told me I was wearing out my welcome to Marla's storage closet and her bathroom where I changed clothes. I was right on both counts. When I got to her office, Marla didn't look happy. "Viv, I've been patient. Letting you fill my storage closet with your things. Letting you use my bathroom to change in and put on make-up. My patience is at an end. You need to move out of my office soon! It's past time for you to have your own apartment."
"I know. I know, Marla. It's just... I can't seem to save enough money," I explained. Money seemed to flow through my fingers faster than cum through a client's dick. There was always another pair of shoes I just had to have!
Marla looked astonished. "You don't have the money!? Viv, you're sitting on an ass that I charge clients a very high price to use! A very high price of which you get a very good cut. Really, Viv, have you no self-control?"
Of course I didn't. Not wanting to admit it though, I just hung my head and stayed quiet. Marla looked at me slouching in her chair and frowned. "Speaking of sitting, young lady, posture is the first thing a client notices."
I sat up with my back ramrod straight and smiled guilelessly, relieved the subject of my lack of fiscal responsibility seemed over. "I thought it was my big tits men noticed first."
"Tits will get you only so far, Viv. My clients aren't paying me top dollar for common street whores! They want poise and sophistication in addition to blow jobs. It's best you begin cultivating those attributes along with your oral skills. If all a man wants is a dick sucking whore, he can find those standing on any corner of Fifth Street. If a man wants a young lady who enjoys giving oral sex, he comes to me."
Marla leaned back against her chair's back (with perfect posture, of course!) and tapped a manicured fingernail on her desk. "Viv, it's your money. I can't tell you how to spend it. But I can suggest you put together enough to get an apartment before you buy more dresses and shoes! I know exactly how much you're earning since I'm the one depositing the money into your bank account."
Marla went quiet and made a decision. "All right! Here's the deal..."
Marla pointed a slim finger at me. "By next Friday you will have an apartment. Any box in my storage room past that date gets tossed. Any makeup cluttering my office bathroom gets shit canned. To help you earn enough money quickly, I have a client who wants three girls this Saturday. It's a bachelor party. A car will be outside my office at 4 PM to pick you and the other girls up. The party will last until 4 AM Sunday morning. Needless to say, the fee you'll get for a twelve-hour party with fifteen or so men should be more than enough for you to rent any apartment you find next week."
"Fifteen!" The thought of that many men fucking me was frightening. "But, Marla, it's the weekend. I can't tell my Mom I'm working..." I began trying to weasel my way out of this 'party'.
"Don't even try, Viv." The slender finger was pointed at me again for emphasis. "Tell your mom you're doing a sleepover with a girl you met at an office you're working at or something. This one appointment Saturday night will earn you enough money that you can spend the next week apartment hunting. I mean it, Viv! Next Friday you're out of here or all those beautiful dresses and shoes cluttering up my storage closet go into a dumpster!"
"Not my shoes!"
I was horrified. It was sinking in that Marla meant every word. I only had four clients scheduled between now and next Friday. I needed cash in the bank now to go apartment hunting. If it took letting fifteen men fuck me to save my shoes... I slumped in my chair and nodded, resigned to my fate, "Okay, I'll be here Saturday."
Marla smiled. She'd won but wasn't going to gloat. "By the way, Viv, have you ever been with a woman? Have you ever wondered..."
"What? I thought you said fifteen men!"
"Fifteen or so men and two more of my girls. I'd be astonished if my client doesn't want some girl-on-girl-on-girl action at some point to entertain his guests."
"I, ahh... I thought about it a couple of times watching porn. Ah, there was this one girl in high school. She was part of our group and she didn't make it a secret that she'd, ahh, you know, been with other girls," I hesitantly admitted. "But no, I've never been with a girl that way."
"I don't like the idea of sending a virgin to a job this large," Marla said thoughtfully and then smiled as she picked up her phone. After checking her iPhone's schedule book, she auto dialed a number. "Sandra? I have a client for you. Tomorrow. 10 AM. Female. Two hours." Marla listened for a few moments then looked at me and smiled. "She's gorgeous and Sandra? She's a virgin. Do everything to make sure no part of her is virginal when she leaves… Thank you, Sandra. I'll text you where to meet later."
I listened to Marla's side of the conversation and my mouth dropped open as I realized that she was scheduling me as a client!
"10 AM, tomorrow," Marla told me in her no-nonsense voice after hanging up. "I'll text you the hotel and room number. I'll pay for Sandra and the room and deduct it from your future pay. Congratulations, Ms. Olivia. You just booked your first call girl."
The Present...
Walking into a hotel in the middle of the day, dressed as I am, used to frighten me. I just knew everyone was whispering about me. Knew I was a whore meeting a guy for sex. Now my stride was quick and confident. I didn't care what other people thought. The room number had been texted to my phone. I didn't need to stop to ask what room Tim occupied. I gave the elevator's camera and anyone watching the CCTV a smile and a little finger-wave before hiking the hem of my dress up another inch. With a hand between skin and dress, I gave my boobs a lift to show more cleavage. The man who answered my knock was a regular of mine. He always asked Marla for me and we've managed to meet at least once or twice a month for many months now when his schedule permitted.
After the door closed behind me, I let Tim pull me into a long, stand-up kiss. He smiled into our kiss when his roving hands moved up under my dress to discover I wasn't wearing panties. While his hands continued to explore my ass crack and cheeks, I pulled back from our kiss. Nibbling on his ear, I asked, "What's your excuse this time?"
"I'm meeting a prospective investor over a long lunch," Tim replied. He released me after giving my ass cheeks a final, hard squeeze. I pulled the hem of my dress down as he walked to the mini-bar and came back with two bourbons over ice. I have a strict rule of not drinking anything that might have been spiked. "You're not trying to roofie me, are you," I asked as I took the offered glass.
Tim laughed, took my glass back and took a healthy sip. After handing me my glass again, Tim reached under my dress to cup my pussy. Sliding a finger inside me, he asked, "Now, Viv. Why would I need to roofie a sure thing?" That was certainly true. I'd learned at high school parties how to shotgun beer, tossing back a shot of cold bourbon was no problem though I shuddered as it burned all the way down and exploded in my stomach. Tim laughed at my eww-that's-awful facial expressions as my drink disappeared and sipped his. Moving to separate his fingers from between my legs, I pulled the hem of my dress down before taking two more small bottles from the minibar. As I topped off Tim's drink and refilled mine, Tim laughed again, "Are you trying to get me drunk, Viv?"
Putting my glass down on the counter, this time it was my time to laugh as I reached to loosen his tie, "Now, Tim. Why would I need to get a sure thing drunk?"
Sipping our drinks, we took turns loosening and losing clothing. Maneuvering Tim further into the room, I pushed him onto the small couch in the suite. Tim likes to take his time with me. He never seems to rush. After I sat down next to Tim, he demonstrated again that he loves tits by playing with and sucking on my tits for long minutes until my nipples were hard and aching in his mouth.
I finished my drink with small sips while Tim took his time sucking on my tits as hands continued to explore my ass and pussy. Sliding two fingers up my pussy, he was pleased to find that I was already wet for him. I was wet from entertaining a client just before meeting Tim, but he didn't need to know that. Better to let him think he was the reason for my moist pussy. There was a clock alarm on a table by the bed. I glanced at it while holding Tim hard to my breast. I knew Tim liked to take his time. I also knew that he needed to come twice for me to get a big gift. It was time to get our first time together over with so he'd have time to rest up for a second.
Pulling Tim away from my breast, I laughed, "I think you only love my tits."
"There is sooo much more I love about you, Viv."
"Tell me," I said as I pushed Tim to sit back on the couch before kneeling on the floor to remove his shoes, pants and briefs.
"I love your beautiful face," Tim began as I unbuckled his belt. "I love your incredible body. Your height. I love how I'm relaxed around you. I even love how we talk without arguing. God, that's so damned rare at my house. And, of course, I love how tight your pussy is."
I pulled Tim's underwear down and off. Tossing them aside, I took his shaft in my fist and stroked it. Pre-cum formed on the tip and I leaned over to quickly lick it off. "Oh, my God," Tim breathed. "I really love how you suck my cock."
Pushing Tim's knees open, I leaned over and let him watch me run my tongue tip up the length of his shaft to circle the head of his cock. With my lips feather touching Tim's shaft near his balls, I met his eyes. "Do you mean how I suck your cock like this," I asked softly as I continued to lick up and down his shaft while with one hand I played with his balls.
"Or do you mean how I suck your cock like this," I asked as I moved slightly forwards between his legs. Tim sucked in air as I rose up to take his tip in my mouth and in one move, took all that he had to the back of my throat. I held my head still. With the soft flesh of the head of his cock pressed hard against the back of my mouth, the only movement was of my rasping tongue pressing and moving against his shaft.
When I pulled back slightly to breathe, Tim gave his answer by twining his fingers in my hair to pull my mouth back down the length of his cock. I pulled his hands away and began alternating between sucking and licking his cock in a more leisurely pace while he watched and finished his drink. Rising from my knees I took his glass and set it aside. Straddling his legs, I lightly gripped Tim's cock as I opened my legs wider until I sank down enough to feel the brush of his cock tip. I tightened my fingers around Tim's cock and moved it around my slit slowly to wet the tip.
"Do you know what I love most about you, Viv," Tim asked suddenly.
"What," I asked softly just as I put the tip to my hole.
"I love that you're not my shrew of a wife," he replied as I slowly began impaling myself on his cock.
"You showed me a picture of her. I'm glad I'm not her, too," I laughed before leaning forwards to kiss Tim. Tim's tongue filled my mouth even as his cock filled my pussy.
I love that first penetration of my pussy as I'm stretched and filled. I moved slowly to prolong that feeling. Rising before sinking down slowly to take more cock. I Mmm'd out my pleasure as I took all of Tim inside me and whispered, "God, your cock feels so good inside me."
Tim was greedily trying to suck my entire tit into his mouth again when, grasping Tim's hair, I pulled his mouth away from my hard nipple. Leaning over further, I filled his mouth with my tongue instead. Twerking my hips, with slow movements I fucked his cock until it was sliding easily in my pussy.
Once I had him inside me, it wasn't long before his hands left my tits to grasp and still my hips. All I had to do was breathe, "Fuck me" into Tim's mouth and he began thrusting upwards with hard, fast thrusts. Bouncing me upwards before hands pulled me down onto his cock over and over. I put my hands on the back of the couch to either side of his head and leaned forwards just enough to brush my hard nipples lightly across his lips. I teased Tim by pulling back before he could capture one with his mouth. When he moaned he was coming and pulled me hard to his lap, I felt his cock pulse and I knew he'd left his cum deep inside me. I held still until he sighed his completion, only then did I let him capture his reward. His breathing slowed while he sucked hard on my nipple.
I stayed motionless as I let Tim feast on one tit, then the other with mouth and hands. With a long, throaty Mmm of pleasure again, I pulled Tim's mouth harder to my breast. "God, I love feeling a man come inside me."
"I doubt it feels as good to you as it does to me," Tim replied as he finally let loose of my breasts and relaxed into the back of the couch.
In truth, with clients, the pleasure I feel is mostly in the knowledge that I'll be finished soon and can go home.
Rising up and off Tim's dick, I held myself motionless as gravity did its job. We both watched as his large load dripped from my gaped pussy lips to pool on his stomach. Running my fingertips up my slit to capture any remaining cum, I let Tim watch me lick my fingers clean before kneeling on the floor between his legs again, I pulled my hair back and out of the way so it wouldn't drag through the wet pool. Tim reached with his hand to help control my long hair and contentedly watched as I chased every drop of cum with my tongue until his stomach was clean.
Shortly afterwards we were relaxing on the bed with fresh drinks. I'd over-indulged and was on my fourth drink so I took slow sips. The tip of my nose was slightly numb from the three drinks I'd already had. Shot-gunning bourbon on an empty stomach is a dangerous thing to do. Tim did most of the talking.
Tim is some kind of financial lawyer. He puts deals together, sets up shell companies, moves money around and basically does everything he can to let his clients pay as little in taxes as possible. As usual, Tim spewed about all the crap he'd had to put up with from bosses at work and his wife and kids at home since the last time we'd met. All the while I tried to listen attentively. After so many previous meetings, by now I knew the names of his wife, kids, and co-workers. I knew enough about them to offer advice about Tim's youngest who wanted to drop out of college in her senior year.
Mental therapists charge shit loads of money per hour in this city. Two hours of my time was a bargain for Tim, and I did something better for my clients than just validating parking. In truth? Giving Tim an attentive audience and the time to get all this crap out of his system once or twice a month probably did more for him than my letting him leave two loads of cum in me.
But cum, not psychology, is my business. I was determined to get a good tip and glancing at the clock I knew I had to act. While Tim talked, I put my hand on his cock and started slow-stroking until it was hard. Moving to straddle his hips, again I impaled myself on his cock. While I rode him cowgirl, I resisted when he tried to pull me down so he could suck on my nipples again. Playfully, I kept fending off the hands trying to pull me down. Leaning down to tease him, I let Tim bury his face between my tits before pulling away.
Laughing, I kissed Tim and teased, "No. Not this time you greedy boy. I did all the work last time, so you don't get my tits again until you give me what I want!" I whispered what I wanted in his ear while kissing the sweet, sensitive spot everyone, men and women, seem to have on their neck. "I want to be fucked long and hard!"
Now that Tim knew how to earn his 'reward', I was squealing at how quickly he moved to put me on my back. Tim isn't a young man, he was maybe in his early fifties. Having come just a short while ago I was certain I'd be fucked quite a long time as he earned his reward for services rendered. I spread my legs wider as he began to thrust hard. The slide of his cock filling me as his weight pressed me into the mattress felt so good. Tim was always a decent lover. His cock was average and he had love handles, but he'd kept himself in decent shape and he had stamina. With long, passionate kisses as our tongues tried to enter each other's mouths as deeply as his cock entered my pussy, we began a missionary fuck which ended with him propped up on his arms while thrusting his cock into me. Tim was pounding my pussy lips so hard my breaths came in gasps between grunted words as I urged him on to fuck me harder. HARDER!
I love it when my job is also pleasant. Tim was sweaty and gasping for air when he finally pressed hard between my legs as he came. Moving my hips to grind against his groin had my clit tingling. I was very pleasantly surprised at how good I felt between my thighs. I hadn't orgasmed but everything between my legs was telling me I'd been fucked good, long and hard.
As Tim rested above me, still on locked arms, after a few more seconds I reached up to pull his head down and let him have his reward. I was content to lie still while feeling his still hard cock move inside me as he sucked on my nipples until they ached. But... alas, there's always a 'but' as Marla had once told me... the time on the alarm clock was telling me it was time to end.
That's what I had to tell Tim. If he'd requested more time, after a short call to Marla, I would have said Yes. Both for the extra money and for the orgasm I knew I'd have if just from masturbating while Tim watched. Rolling off me, he seemed content with a short blowjob to clean his cock and to watch me pad about in my garter, stockings, and high heels. Fixing us another drink, I took Tim his and told him I was going to use the powder room. Carrying my drink and handbag I went into the bathroom but left the door open so we could talk.
Opening my legs wider than my usual stance, I began using a damp washcloth to wipe away Tim's sweat and cum. After inserting a tampon so cum wouldn't wet my dress during the taxi ride home, I dropped the washcloth and used my foot to swipe it over the tiles of the floor to clean up the cum that had dripped from my pussy.
Back in the room, I let Tim watch me dress. Men seem to become mesmerized while watching a large-breasted girl putting on a brassiere. As I finished the last of my drink, Tim said he'd left me a gift on the mini-bar counter. Putting the envelope in my handbag, I found my lipstick and used the mirror behind the minibar to apply a thick, red coating to my lips.
Tim had a knowing grin on his face as I approached the bed. He knew from previous encounters what I was about to do. I'm not exactly sure when red lipstick became my 'thing'. But sometime in the last few months, I'd found that leaving a client I liked a reminder of me brought much repeat business as well as nice gifts. Days scheduled with repeat clients I liked meant having to meet less often with clients I didn't like. Win-win for me! None of my PCs, 'Preferred Customers', had yet to complain. Tim stopped breathing as I leaned over the bed and took my time pressing a bright red kiss mark onto the bulb of his cock.
"So, I'm still one of your preferred customers," Tim asked while looking at my red brand on the head of his dick. I laughed. With a nod and a finger wave, I exited the room.
In the taxi, I counted the gift, the nice gift, Tim had given me on the way back to my apartment. Next week was my nineteenth birthday and I was taking the day off to spend with my mom. Window shopping in the mall and a lunch. Then home for the birthday cake with a few girlfriends. Tim's gift went a long way to making up for a lost day of pay.
Tim was my only client of the day. Back in my apartment, after removing my makeup and showering, I had time to do the housework I'd been putting off during busy days. Dusting, sweeping, and a bit of mopping in my underwear while dancing to some favorite tunes. After dressing in my 'suburban' clothes again, I stopped at the Coffee Clutch on my way to the train stop. A light snack was just what I needed to keep my blood sugar up for the train ride home.
Chapter Four
Five Months Past...
"Master, I think the rope should have gone through the other loop first," I helpfully observed.
"Slave, I told you never to speak unless I give you permission," Master replied in a commanding voice and spanked my ass several times as I whined and groveled, begging his forgiveness. His spanking swats stung my already reddened ass cheeks but not nearly as much as I was acting. I've actually found that spanking makes me wet. When I'd admitted that to Sandra during one of our drunken nights, she'd enthusiastically agreed! 'Tie me up, spank my ass and fuck me hard? Oh, Baby! You've got yourself one happy whore!'
I was naked and on my knees in front of Master. With my head down in submission, I had a good view of the rope I was being tied with. The rope he was looping about my waist slackened as he knelt beside me to look at the paper drawing near our knees.
Sometimes a whore will have clients with very specific fantasies. Something beyond blow jobs and sex in whatever position they fancied. One of the very first things I've learned as a whore is, to be a good whore you have to be a decent actress. To give the client what he wants, you have to become the character the client sees in his fantasy. Like now... In my mind, I'm playing the part of a poor damsel captured by a ruthless rogue. Helplessly tied up, tortured, and eventually ravished by my new Master. Oh, my! Whatever shall become of me?
Yea, well, I wasn't going to hold my breath while waiting for the ravishing to begin. We were well over an hour into our session and I was yet to be tied up. Master smoothed out the paper lying on the faux bearskin rug and took his time studying several complex diagrams of ropes crisscrossing over drawn female forms. He finally nodded his head. "I think you're right, Viv. I mean... Silence, Slave," I was commanded with another series of hard slaps to my ass.
I glanced at the clock. I hated to disappoint Master but... Dropping out of character I began untangling my arms from the half-completed rope bindings. "Charlie, I'm sorry but this just isn't going to work," I told him with a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying to let him down easy. "Your new design is just too complex to be completed in two hours even without the pictures you'll want to take. I wish I could give you more time, but I just can't. Not today."
I didn't explain why. When I turned down requests from clients to stay longer, I never gave a reason. I just let them assume I had another client to see. Charlie looked at his watch and muttered a quiet, Damn! Then he nodded, agreeing with me.
Charlie was in his mid-fifties and a high mucky muck at one of the nation's largest ad agencies. His 'thing' was ropes and knots. He's loved them since he was a Boy Scout learning to tie his first clover hitch. Then he got older and discovered girls. At some point, he discovered the Japanese art of Kinbaku/Shibari, Tight Binding. Suddenly he'd found his passions merging together.
Charlie was a member of a small group of men scattered across the globe. They spent hours, days, designing rope decorations and then more untold amounts of time and money bringing those designs to life with willing men and women. They also exchanged photos of women and men bound in various combinations of rope decoration along with pictures, diagrams, and instructions on how to tie the patterns.
Charlie and I have been meeting once, sometimes twice a month in a studio that no one except us knew he had. When Marla had told me she had a request from a client for a tall woman who would agree to be tied up, I'd hesitated at first. Being tied to a bed and fucked for two hours might be okay, but... One never knew with new clients if there was a wolf lurking underneath the sheep's clothing, but... The large amount of money offered was too good to pass up.
Charlie turned out to be a teddy bear under the sheepskin exterior. During our first session, we hadn't even had sex. Instead, Charlie had proudly given me a tour of his studio, dark room, and a simply fabulous collection of expensive cameras and other equipment. Sitting on his couch, he'd given me a verbal and visual tour through an album of women tied in intricate rope decorations so I'd get the feel of what he wanted to do. Afterward, I'd stripped, Charlie spent the remainder of our session photographing my body in different poses from my toes to my hair to see how I 'showed on film'.
He's requested me ever since our first appointment because of my long legs, narrow waist, and large boobs. I'm long waisted and Charlie insists that rope decorations just look better on women who have several more inches of slender skin between pussy and tits than shorter women. It's the same reason he loves binding and photographing my long legs. Charlie likes my large boobs because, well... What man doesn't like large boobies?
Not all of Charlie's prior decorations were as elaborate as what he'd tried today. Some were very simple. The photography actually took longer as he posed me in one position after another. Charlie began his career in advertising as a photographer. As he rose up through the corporate hierarchy, he never lost his passion for photography, women, and Kinbaku/Shibari. Now that he has the money to indulge in his passions, he spares no expense. There's always wine and a selection of delicacies for me to munch on while Charlie arranges lights and settings for our next shoot. There are several pictures of me out in the world now, all tastefully photographed and none showing my face enough that I'd be recognizable.