This story contains material of an adult nature and examines certain activities which might prove upsetting to some readers. If you a minor within your jurisdiction this story is not permitted reading.

 

At Wanda's Insistence
by: Paula Mortenson

 

She had reached Sanctuary. It was not a particularly impressive place. A bar on the Costa del Sol, in Spain. But a bar with a reputation of offering respite and sanctuary for those in trouble or in need of help who were Transvestites, Cross Dressers or related persuasions. The story of the TV Bar and it’s founding had been told in an article written years ago but now long lost. There are those who remember the tale, who will one day tell the story again.

You might have visited it, if you have ever been in that part of Spain. Looking out over a quiet cobbled square, where the chairs and tables spread out of the main bar according to the season and the popularity of particular establishments. At the height of the season the TV Bar provides the whole life blood of the square. The other shops and bars are content to feed on the success of the main attraction.

The owners, a lifelong crossdresser and his wife, had stumbled on a successful formula but in their gratitude for the early days and the support from the local TV community had always watched out for the waifs and strays who gravitated to the bar and offered them such help and advice as they were able. Often it was just listening but occasionally there were those in real distress and trouble.

Tonight was one of those times. Most had gone home and Robyn, resplendent in a flamenco dress and his wife, Mary, more conservatively dressed listened sympathetically to Bobbie................

 

"You probably think I’m a complete idiot but I had to get away. Anywhere. I have never been so frightened in all my life. She just wouldn’t leave off or let go. She just kept on and on and she can be so persuasive. One minute she’s your best friend cajoling and wheedling you into doing what she wants and the next she’s ranting and raving, trying to bully you into what she wants. Then she’s offering money and she’s got plenty of that. Then she’s playing on your good nature and weaknesses and then it starts all over again. It’s incessant. On and on.

And those eyes of hers. I only had to look into them for ten seconds and I could feel myself sinking, sinking into a morass where I had no will of my own. I was petrified.

She was wearing me down to do it again and I nearly broke the first time but she keeps on and it would have been easier to give in. But it was the absolute control she wanted that I was more frightened of than her, really. I could see it in her eyes and if I had given in I would never have got away and I would have ended up on the scrap heap in perhaps less than a year. She would have wanted more and more until I broke or got myself killed. So I had to run."

Bobbie’s hands shook as she lit another cigarette only moments after stubbing out her last in an ash tray already full less than an hour since she arrived at the TV Bar. The legendary bar on the Costa del Sol, Spain was run by Robyn and his wife Mary. It attracted TVs and those interested in fem men from all over Spain and Europe but mainly Brits. Robyn had recognised a soul in trouble as Bobbie had entered the bar earlier in the evening and had already arranged for the spare room to be readied to offer sanctuary. His instincts were rarely wrong.

"Who are you talking about? Is it this Wanda, you mentioned earlier?"

Bobbie nodded, hovering on the verge of hysteria, a pretty boy/girl who looked exhausted. Though she wore jeans and a T shirt her hair, after she had brushed it into a page boy style made a statement about her gender that was not denied by anything else about her. Despite everything there was a strength and determination in her. Robyn leant forward and whispered, "There’s a room for the night, if you need one. But tell us about it. Start at the beginning, first about yourself and then about what happened."

Bobbie stared into the darkness, shuddered as she relived some part of her nightmare and as she composed herself, she told her story with increasing confidence.

 

I suppose I should explain about myself. I’m on the game. A hooker or whatever you call my profession where you live. It’s mostly men that are my customers. I am bi but the women generally don’t pay and I have to make a living. Being a TV makes the customers a bit more comfortable and I enjoy it that way.

I just meandered into it after I lost my regular job. I was broke, enjoyed doing the clubs and found myself doing "it" free and I was never appreciated. I couldn’t afford the clothes that I wanted to support my half male and half female existence and one night this bloke offered me cash. Well, I was desperate so I accepted. It cost me a decent pair of stockings and he ripped my silk knickers to bits but the cash made a nice change.

After a time I began to work out of a cafe in a posh part of London. There were others working from there but I was the only TV, all the others were real girls. When they realised we weren’t in direct competition they were OK with me. We got on well and a couple of the girls and I began doing jobs together. That’s how I met Wanda.

Crystal, one of the girls from the cafe and I had done a job for a couple, Betty and Geoff. They were both bi (and a bit weird into the bargain) and liked a bit of action when they came down to London on business. Crystal had serviced them on her own but the hubby felt left out when the girls were humping all day and half the night. Betty had been determined that Crystal was going to orgasm and Crystal just could not. Well, she doesn’t generally with punters she told me but Betty wasn’t giving up. That’s when I was invited to join in. The last time Geoff and I had to drag Betty off Crystal before she did her any real damage and there had been the odd complaint about the noise and we didn’t want to let on there were four of us in the room.

Anyway, Betty and Geoff have asked us to join them again in a big hotel. The doormen at these hotels have got eyes like hawks when it comes to us working girls. So Crystal and I book in as a couple then we can use our room to change before we wander along to see Betty and Geoff. These two pay well so we’re treating ourselves to two nights (it’s a special event Betty told us- a two day job) and it’ll be somewhere to have a bath and escape the action. Betty can be funny if she thinks Geoff is up to things out of her sight. I am wearing a suit and playing the husband to Crystal’s wife and we have some fun with the bellboy pretending we’re on our honeymoon. If he’d seen inside our cases, he might have been puzzled. There wasn’t a stitch of male clothing in mine. In fact, I couldn’t find any socks when I came to dress so I was wearing tights under my trousers. The next time I wear the suit will be when we leave. I have three outfits with me, tart, women’s business suit and something frilly but Betty might decide they’ll bring something special for us to wear, clients often do. At least Betty has our sizes and everything will fit.

This time we had no trouble with the doorman, nor reception. I hate the doormen, they get self-righteous about us working girls but take kickbacks from the ones they get for guests. Its good business in these posh hotels if you can get it.

We get into the room and Crystal hits the drinks fridge straightaway. Normally, I would as well but I was still a bit fragile from the night before. A collar and tie always feel strange so I was stripped down to just my tights as Crystal started her second drink. I looked up to see Crystal staring at me.

"Do you ever think about going for the op?"

I grunt a non-committal reply. As I am, I can switch from one to the other and I enjoy having a woman from time to time but it seems to be getting a bit more difficult these days. My man hood isn’t in doubt, its just the girls seem a bit put off by my tits. In the early days, I used falsies but they were a nuisance, always slipping at the wrong moment. So, with some tablets, cream and the suction pump I’ve got these great little ones of my own. They’re not as big as I’d like but..., they’re OK.

"Are the nipples sensitive?" slurps Crystal as she looks in the fridge for her third drink.

"Try to touch me and I’ll belt you." I changed the subject. "Do you want to use the bath first?" I’m getting a bit touchy about my breasts, these days. Some punters (customers, clients or patients to you depending on what you do to earn your living) want to play with them but they mostly just maul them. I don’t entirely understand how I feel about them.

So Crystal’s in the bath and I’m unpacking when there’s a knock on the door. Now there’s a thing about big London hotels (and the world over, as well) and that is they leave you alone. Knocks on the door when there’s a "do not disturb" sign are bad news. I can hardly go to the door, after all the sight of a bloke naked apart from a pair of tights, waving a black rubber dildo might upset someone. Apart from Crystal’s red silk shorty we haven’t got a robe between us so I sidle up to the spy hole in the door and take a look.

I could not believe my eyes. There’s Geoff standing outside the door holding a parcel and wearing a maid’s outfit. Wig, little lacy cap, black very short dress, little apron, so I let him in and see he’s wearing the highest pair of stilettos I’ve ever seen.

Betty has been threatening to play the dominant mistress with all of us. It has been her ‘best wish’. That’s a game we play, at the end of the sessions to give the come on for the next time. Even we have to do some marketing. In trips Geoff, hardly able to walk. It’s a wonder someone hasn’t called security as a bloke walking around the hotel corridors in a silky maids outfit, who’s over six foot and well built with a dress showing a good three inches of suspender is likely to be noticed. Particularly when his knickers hardly cover his masculinity. Betty must have really laid it on for him to do this but she can be very insistent and determined.

Geoff clears his throat to speak.

"Mistress Wanda," he nearly chokes on his words, "has commanded me to instruct you, my fellow subservients, about the arrangements for the day."

Now this is beginning to get weird. Geoff has a hunted look to him. There’s fear in his eyes and he is sweating in a very unladylike way. But Betty isn’t here, so why is he like that?, I ask myself. Then the penny drops. They own an electronics company and I reckon he must be wired up. Geoff drones on about Mistress Wanda and what she requires of us in a high-pitched travesty of a maid’s voice and I am not taking anything in. I just stare.

Amidst this, Crystal appears from the bathroom, well into her fourth or maybe fifth or sixth drink. Her face drops as she sees how Geoff is dressed and I can see the terror in her eyes light up as she begins to take in what he is saying. Crystal hates these sessions with Geoff and Betty, she only does it for the money. Yes, that sounds strange but the obsession that Betty has about making her come is getting a nuisance. Geoff is still droning on when suddenly Crystal cracks. After a sudden burst of tears there’s volley of abuse at Geoff and the absent Betty and she starts screaming that turning tricks on the street is simpler. Finally, she throws off her towel, hurls her clothes back on, grabs her unopened cases and barges past Geoff into the corridor and away.

Geoff fell silent and I was fed up at the money I was going to have to pay out. I was just going to have to get back on the streets to pay for the holiday I was planning next week.

I looked at Geoff. "Well do you want me to find another girl? I can get someone here in a couple of hours. How about Samantha? She’s always fancied coming along."

Geoff just stood there, holding a parcel, not saying a word. Then his head went to one side as if he’s listening to something and suddenly he turned and snatched the door open. Framed in the doorway as if by magic there is a raven haired, leather clad woman. Every magazine’s vision of a strict Mistress. I hardly recognised her but it was apparent it was Mistress Wanda or rather Betty. Betty is fair but the wig looks real, long straight just like Cher, the hair flies back as she strides purposefully into the room. Her eyes shine from heavily macara’d eyes and her lips are burning red to match her talon nails. The black leather dress shows her every attractive curve and she has matching heeled ankle boots. There is no doubt she is in full Mistress mode and she is not taking any nonsense from mere males.

"Go back to our room and wait for me. Leave the parcel, you fool." , she barked. Geoff scurried off, thrusting the parcel into my hands. I was getting cold by this time so I slipped Crystal’s red silk shorty wrap around my shoulders. Wanda stares at me and I have difficulty in holding her gaze.

"And is our little Bobbie going to run home crying to her mummy?"

"You on something, Betty? You know I won’t have anything to do with that sort of thing. "

She glares at me and suddenly her mood changes again and she smiles.

"We didn’t really need Crystal tonight. That thing with Geoff is to keep him in his place. I caught him with one of the girls at the factory. Honestly, for an intelligent man, he is thick sometimes. Video’d on one of our own security cameras he was. There’s enough on that tape to keep him on the jump for months. We’ve always done everything together so he’ll pay. The maid thing’s only the beginning." So that what was winding her up. I certainly wouldn’t cross her, she could be a real nasty bit of work.

"What are you doing? Staying or going?"

I nod to say I’m staying. It’s money, isn’t it?

"Right, you’re taking on two of our customers this evening. They’ve got a lot of business to place and they’re hot for someone like you."

She raised her eyebrows at me, asking for further commitment on my part. Two at a time, that can be dodgy. The only other time I did, I was on my own and it got out of hand. They got carried away and my orifices, well one in particular, got a bashing. And it wasn’t only from them but two dildos, a hairspray canister and a cucumber. That cucumber saved me from a worse fate by breaking off inside and scaring the hell out of them and me. They just took off and left me to sort myself out. I was glad I had insisted on being paid first but it was embarrassing at the hospital. Not to be recommended, I can tell you.

"Look, we need this contract so I’ll pay you what we promised and there’ll be a bonus if everything goes well. That suit you?"

Now negotiating, I understand, after all I do it every day. We end up agreeing she would pay for the hotel and extras and the bonus was well worth having. In addition, I made it clear there would be no dildos, no beatings and I wasn’t to be left on my own with them. She readily agreed she would keep things under control.

She explained about the job, " I’ll be staying, that’s why I’m dressed like this. They want to be ordered to do it to you and it’s them that wants the spanking. We were talking about fantasies and I’ve been kidding them I’m into that scene as a Mistress and they’ve been practically wetting themselves with excitement, ever since."

That light had come back into her eyes again and I reckoned the prospect of what was to come was getting to her more than she would admit.

"I brought the clothes for you to wear. They are in the parcel."

"OK. But where’s Geoff going to be while all this is going on?"

It seems his punishment is to act as a maid, getting the drinks and generally being useful and doing what he’s told.

"What’s the outfit, then?"

"Well, there are one or two other things, as well."

"Come on Betty, out with it. No surprises, that’s the deal."

Then she tells me. I have to call her Mistress, all night. No problem there. They think she has two slaves in training, Geoff and me. I am being feminised and trained as a tart, to pay for my keep. Let me tell you, there’s only one way to learn my job and that is to get on your knees and work. I must say, she spins a good yarn as she has told them I have only just lost my virginity, on her instructions. To Geoff !! That’s a laugh, I’ve had more pricks dangled over me than a men’s urinal.

I find it hard to believe they have gone for this rubbish. Apparently, they’re turned on by the idea that I am shaved all over but Betty has decided that my legs have to be waxed, as well and she wants to make everything is perfect. I was thinking she was going a bit far when she pulls out the money and pays me there and then. Well, I think, she is the customer so she’s entitled.

She opened up the parcel to show me what I am to wear. I have seen stuff like this in magazines but never for real. The panties are tiny and the rubber is practically see through. There’s no back to them, just elasticated at the back of the crotch. To keep my balls in but I’m convinced I’ll never fit in them. She sees the look on my face.

"Geoff has a pair on and he’s bigger than you. The open back meant that Geoff has a vibrator up his back passage, as well. Now, your tits. They need to be bigger. Will that suction thing of yours work? "

She’s paid, so I can hardly refuse, can I? She checks my legs but I never liked them being hairy so I always keep them nice and smooth. Then she wants to see the rest of me so there I am laid out on the bed, stark naked. From somewhere she produces this lady shaver and she whips off her leather jacket to reveal a black camisole and there’s no bra under. As she reaches to do under one arm and then the other she they hover just above me and its all I an do to stop myself giving them a quick suck.

As she straightens up from finishing under my second arm slips and to save herself a hand ends up on my tits. Of course, she manages a quick fondle of them and Mr Happy starts taking an interest.

"Oh, I wondered whether women interested you.", She smirked, as she pulls my prick to one side and then the other to complete my defoliation. The shaver is buzzing away and she makes sure it’s held against me just a little longer than is really necessary.

"If you stay like that you’ll never get into those panties."

Before you can say ‘jack me off’, down goes her head and she’s licking the lolly. She’s still got the shaver buzzing in her hand and the crafty cow turns it round and manages to slip the vibration between the cheeks of my bum. Her mouth is sucking away like a vacuum and I’m in seventh heaven. Then I feel her free hand creeping up my chest and those red talons head right for my nipples and I can’t stop myself coming. I unload into her and she never flinches; just tosses her head back to swallow every drop, like an old pro.

She whips the shaver out of me and grins, like the cat that got the cream.

"Your tits are sensitive, aren’t they? Where’s that suction thing?"

For the next half hour I suffer the agony and the ecstasy as she pulls and kneads my breasts to the limit. The thing is she seems to enjoy inflicting the discomfort on me. The end result satisfies her but I am sore. It got me up from an A cup size to a B so I‘ll certainly look good.

The rest of the contents of the parcel were a top and short tight back zippered skirt, both in soft white leather and a pair of white French knickers in gloving leather. They are so soft it is hard to believe they are leather. The top is made not to need a bra. Since there’s a gap between the top and the skirt I am to wear hold up stockings and the whole outfit is completed with a pair of four inch ankle straps.

"I am going to sort Geoff out. Have a bath and I will come back to help you get ready. You can take your time and I’ll take your key." That light was back in her eyes as she peered into the mirror to check her make up.

I had hardly got out of the bath when she reappears with a distinct flush to her cheeks. There was no doubt Geoff had been paying a bit more. She’s got yet another bag and I’m intrigued what she’s brought.

She insists on supervising every part of my preparations, from making sure that every nook and cranny of my body is dry after the bath to making sure my nail polish is perfect. I was worried that I might not be able to fit into the rubber panties if she kept on interfering. But they were like a second skin as I drew them over my shaved parts. They were incredibly tight squashing everything so that I was absolutely smooth at the front but you could see the goods on offer. The grip of the rubber was uncomfortable but interesting, if you know what I mean. She wouldn’t leave me alone as I dressed, supervising every stage of my preparations. I’ve never seen her wound up so much but she was revelling in every second.

Then I was ready to both our satisfaction but I get a bit worried about walking up to her suite. Don’t get me wrong, I now I will pass and am unlikely to be read but it isn’t every day that you see someone dressed in the way I am and it only takes one nosey member of staff. I am adjusting the straps on my shoes when she pulls out this gorgeous pink shirtwaister dress, complete with petticoats.

"I want you to look demure, at least to start with. The lamb to the slaughter. So play innocent with them. This will fit over that costume."

I tell you, I looked fantastic. I could have fancied myself, particularly since I know what’s underneath. The rubber panties grip in an exciting way as I flick the petticoats at my reflection in the mirror.

"Here’s a handbag. Put what you need in it and don’t forget your key. Do hurry."

That last remark was a very irritated Mistress Wanda.

We hustle across to the lift and I am surprised to see we are heading for the penthouse suite. This must be important.

"Now don’t forget. I am not Betty. I am Mistress Wanda and you are my devoted slave. And do try to act frightened of me, especially if you want that bonus."

As we arrive, there’s a marbled reception area with doors off to the bedrooms. It must have cost a fortune. Geoff’s stood there, teetering on his heels, with his skirt hitched even higher clearly showing the clear rubber panties squashing his prick and balls. I could hear a humming somewhere and suddenly Wanda giggles as she walks over to her husband/maid/slave.

"O dear, Bobbie, I must have left the him on, accidentally." She makes a face at Geoff as she reaches behind him to viciously increase the speed of the vibrator implanted in him.

The three of us click across the floor to a door leading into a huge lounge, furnished with a pair of massive black leather sofas, facing one another. There is a picture window, running the length of one wall giving a magnificent view over London and she sends Geoff tottering off to fetch Champagne for us.

Wanda stares at me until I have to avert my gaze. That had happened several times in my room. I am afraid of the look. Her stare is hypnotic and I’m frightened getting drawn in I will never escape. I now know what a rabbit must feel like when faced by car headlights. Eventually, I get caught too long in the fascination of her look and I can feel my will and resolve just washing away. I can’t escape but I am saved by Geoff staggering back with our drinks and then a telephone rings and he, having answered it, tells us that the punters are on their way.

"Go on, Geoff, wait at the lift for them and try to behave like a maid. If you don’t, you’ll pay for it later." Those final words set a chill through me. She really meant it. As Geoff leaves I spend my time avoiding her stare but I can feel it burning into me and calling to me to give myself up to her will.

There’s a ping from the reception area and Geoff appears. " Our guests, mistress."

You can feel the tension in the air as they stroll tentatively into the room. I never did discover what nationality they were but they seemed to speak little or no English and I didn’t recognise the language they spoke. They were both dark, short, fat and perspired heavily even on the cool evening. They fawned all over Wanda, slobbering all over her hands as they kiss them and then at a word they drop to their knees to kiss her leather boots. That gloating Expression of power and satisfaction glazes over her eyes.

As they scramble to their feet I feel their lustful stare rake over my body. One, balding, smiles at me as we are introduced and paws my fingers in his sweaty hands before leaning to kiss them. Kiss them? He practically ate them as his lips slobber over me. The other stands, slightly aloof as he clicks his heels, bows his head and then reaches forward to kiss my cheeks, his moustache tickling as it rubs against me. A glance from Mistress Wanda assured me that she was in control as she waved us to the sofas.

I am now like a plate of meat set before starving men. I can fee their eyes drooling over me as they follow me to the sofa. As I sit down I can hear them talking. I do not understand a word but I know the subject is me and that is confirmed as they jockey for position next to me. Fortunately, I had sat in the middle and I have one each side. They sit closer than is really necessary, invading my personal space as they are shortly to invade my body. Their knees rub against my petticoats, their hands touch my arms and all the time I can feel their eyes taking every chance to undress me, and more! Amidst all this, they are talking between themselves and it is getting angrier and angrier. They are arguing, it seems about me!

Suddenly, Wanda stands, screams words I do not understand and Baldy and Tash (as I had informally nicknamed them) scramble to their feet before prostrating themselves before her. From somewhere Mistress has produced this riding whip and is cracking it across the arm of her sofa. I wander over to peer out of the window but I keep an eye on the action. She’s standing still, getting her breath having lashed some fearful cracks across their raised behinds. After a quiet word, suddenly they begin a stripping race, hurling their clothes to the ground. They just can’t get undressed quickly enough. Wanda watches, a smile of elation crossing her face and then she looks up from them and stares hypnotically into my eyes.

"Now Bobbie, dear, It’s time for your to perform. Strip down to the leather and earn that bonus."

So I give them the full treatment. Belt first, running it through my hands and then whipcracking it. I notice that there are not only two pairs of eyes showing a lustful interest but other parts of their anatomy are showing interest. I make a show of unbuttoning the dress from top to bottom and then turn my back to slip it off my shoulders and to the ground, stripper style. The petticoats slip over my hips and I let them fall before I turn to face Baldy and Tash, the innocent outer look now discarded. I begin to enjoy myself as I prowl towards them, their eyes are popping out of their sockets and Wanda is watching all our faces, that enigmatic smile of lustful enjoyment crossing her lips.

I reach the kneeling figures and turn my back to them, again. I’m standing so close that I can fell their hot breath on the back of my stockinged thighs. Wanda’s voices barks a command in their language into the electric silence and two pairs of damp sweaty hands crawl from my ankles to the zipper at the hem of my skirt. The fumbling. trembling fingers draw the zipper slowly from hem to waist, succeeding in groping everything between. Another barked instruction and drooling enquiring fingers slither across my buttocks to grasp the leather knickers and slide them, so slowly downwards. A hand licks at the button on my now revealing skirt to drop it to the floor. Unseen hands and fingers, seemingly hundreds of them, linger here and there on my unprotected body, savouring every inch of me.

The hairs on my neck stand to attention as the four hands explore me. One hand squeezes my balls through the restricting rubber panties, whilst another has undone my bolero top and is now viciously pinching at my nipples whilst another is stretching and exploring my arse.

As I am being subjected to their every whim and desire Wanda, Mistress Wanda, is drinking in the scene with hungry eyes. She stands in front of me and I cannot avoid her gazeI feel myself sinking under her control as their closeness, their insistent attentions and the pungent odour of their lustful bodies paralyses me and panic rises inside me. I silently plead for my humiliation to be brought to a close.

I can and have coped with everything someone in my profession has to deal with. But this is different, something have never met before. I am entirely at the mercy of these unknown men but I know that whatever Wanda decides will be my fate.

Mistress leans across and with the riding crop taps my breasts and then pushing the standing figures’ heads towards them. Now two mouths attach themselves to my breasts, sucking ever harder, whilst one hand from each begins to knead and squeeze my rubber coated prick and balls. Their other hands compete for access to me with first one finger and then, two, three or four or more invading me. The vacuuming at my breasts increases to the stage when only their teeth cutting into my flesh seems to prevent them disappearing down their throats.

Their efforts double and redouble as they worry at me like a cat teasing a mouse. Now I am on the very edge of screaming for mercy and my freedom. My mouth opens, partly from the pain at my breasts and partly in readiness to plead for my release and suddenly the riding crop smacks against the bodies imprisoning me. Words are screamed in command and I am freed, temporarily, with the torturing hands and mouths ending their torment. I know this is only a temporary respite but the only thing between me and running screaming from the room is the thought of that bonus. I feel as though I have earned it many times over, already.

There are more words, instructions I think and Baldy, crestfallen lies on the black leather his legs dangling over the arm. Wanda the light in her eyes betraying her excitement waves me to lie forwards between his legs, my mouth ready to receive his engorged manhood. As my thighs rest on the sofa arm I feel Tash’s hands on my back and suddenly he enters me, without any preliminaries. I know I can control this and I have decided that the quicker this is over the better.

I flex my muscles to grip Tash and find his rhythm as I alternately suck and lick at the other end. I know that neither will last long as I give them everything and it is less than thirty seconds before both are breathing heavily and less time again before Baldy’s hands grab my head to ensure I take everything and Tash is thrusting deeply into me. The screams of pleasure from both are only blotted out by Wanda’s own climactic shrieks. Suddenly my mouth fills and the weight on my back increases as Tash comes.

There is a silent moment and then the whip cracks again and the two bodies scramble away from me and amazingly repeat the strip race but now in reverse. Competing to get dressed first one and then the other falls over, a foot caught in a trouser leg before they stand, to attention before Wanda. She stares challengingly into their eyes, asking them questions which elicit nods and furtive glances towards me. For myself I am examining the teeth marks on my breasts and resolving, never to meet these two again and that I was going away on a long holiday, to soak in a hot bath and then to sunbathe far away from anyone who knew my profession. The next time I had sex it was going to be for my pleasure. And Wanda? I never wanted to see her again.

Wanda snaps for Geoff to fetch our visitors and with their eyes half on Wanda and still shamelessly ravaging my bare body they backed out of the room. I hardly dared breath until I heard the ping of the lift as it left our floor. Wanda, her face bathed in a post climactic glow turned to me.

" That was incredible." she whispered, breathlessly, " I am absolutely exhausted.

Gone on, you run a bath."

The most difficult time, in my profession is after. I like to have my money before, give the punter value for money and then clear off. But she has that bonus and I have more than earned it so clear off into the bathroom to take that well earned soak and to examine my wounds. As I lie there I hear her working herself into a frenzy at Geoff, screaming and shouting at him and I hear the whip stinging at him, again and again. Suddenly there’s a silence and Wanda pops her head around the door, all sweetness and light, enquiring after me, apparently most concerned for my health. Then she goes again and I can hear Geoff pleading for mercy as the whip falls and she makes ever more ridiculous threats. Or are they ridiculous? She is high on power and domination and it is clear she wants more. It is definitely time for me to collect my bonus and get away.

Another head peers around the door. Wanda in appearance but it’s dear Betty, offering consolation at the teeth marks scarring my breasts and offering my bonus. And without me having to ask or remind. The danger signals start ringing. There’s going to be something more. I feel certain.

I wrap a robe around myself and tread tentatively into the big room. Wanda (or is it Betty?) is draped across one of the black leather sofas, looking as though butter couldn’t melt in her mouth.

"You look divine, darling. You really do make a lovely looking girl. That was amazing. They’ll place the contract, that’s for certain." She peered enquiringly at me, "You very nearly broke though, didn’t you? I wondered how much you could take of that groping.It was an amazing sight. Just as if they were eating you. How did it feel?"

I knew that the next time, if I let there be a next time, she would let it go a bit further, perhaps taking me beyond what I could stand. She would get her kicks from listening to my screams for mercy. I wondered whether she would climax on those screams.

"Are you pleased with the bonus?" There she was changing subject again, changing from Wanda to Betty, as well. The sweet, cajoling, wheedling Betty went on.

"I’ve been thinking. It’s silly for Geoff and me to rattle around in this suite, all on our own. Why don’t you pack up your room and move in here? It’ll save money. I know that the friends you just met are prepared to pay anything for another session but there’s another couple who I’ve been talking to about you and they’d be delighted to pop over this evening. Just think of all the extra you can earn."

My hesitation drew a transformation from Betty to the cruel Mistress Wanda as I avoid those staring eyes by every trick I can summon up.

"Or does our pretty little Bobbie want to go home to mummy? The money or your Mummy, Bobbie? Just think what you could do with all that money."

It took me over three hours to flee to the relative safety of my own room and it was only when I got reception to call Wanda downstairs that I managed to escape the hotel Hardly had I got to my flat than she was there again but I had only called in to collect my passport and I managed to avoid her again by clambering down my fire escape.

The slim, boyish but unmistakably feminine figure slumped in her chair as she burst into tears. Robyn and Mary exchanged a look that only those intimate can exchange and Robyn spoke, confident that he spoke for them both.

"There’s a room upstairs. You can stay for as long as you like but you can’t trade from here." Bobbie looked up in shock.

Mary carried on, "We are not a brothel. We have an understanding with the local police and that is not included. If your short of money perhaps you’d like to help out in the bar.But here you are Bobbie.Girl. Do you understand?"

Bobbie , amazed at the generosity and forthrightness, simply nodded.

Robyn and Mary looked at one another again and exchanged that look of understanding.

Which of them spoke the words is irrelevant for they both thought the same.

"We think it is time you made peace with yourself. Here you are a girl and we think you need to make up your mind for the future exactly what you are. Then you can settle down into normality and .." and this part was definitely Mary, "find a nice boy to make an honest woman of you."

 

Paula Mortenson ©2001

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Paula Mortenson. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.