Joan in the Desertbyreddear©
After he left Tammy came back into the room and asked, "Well, how was it"
"It was amazing," I said. "I think I came four times. I've never done that before."
"Well, we'd better get you cleaned up then. You're a mess. Come on back to my room." I sat like a rag doll and let her wash my arm pits and my pussy and brush my hair. She touched up my makeup and then said, "The panic was because Tiffany's period started so now we're shorthanded. It wasn't supposed to start until next week, but she got it wrong somehow, the idiot. It's busier than usual for the middle of the week and we could really use your help filling in. Could you do that?"
"Yes," I said dreamily.
"Great, thanks, but we need to take care of a couple things." She took some electrical thing out from under the sink and before I knew what she was doing she was cutting off my pubic hair with some clippers. Then she pushed a hot washcloth to my pussy and found some shaving cream and a razor. She was done in moments and when I put my hand down there I was a bald as I'd been when I was ten years old.
"One more thing," she said and she got some rubbing alcohol and a square of paper out of the medicine cabinet. "Bend over the sink." I obeyed her, and she pulled my panties aside and put the cold piece of paper on my ass. "It's a fake tattoo. HH. It looks very nice. It'll last a few days or a week. Now let's get to the lounge. There could be a lineup any time and they'll need us."
Just my luck, there was a lineup starting as we got there. Tammy poked me and said, "Just smile and say your name." I did -- "Nicole" -- and a guy picked me. "I hear you're wild in bed," he said. I was on my own this time and I did straight for thirty minutes for $300. When he left he gave me a thirty dollar tip and said, "They were right, you are."
Then there was another lineup and I got picked again. Afterwards Tammy asked me if I was getting sore, because I wasn't used to this much exercise. I said I was, a bit, and she walked me back to my room and undressed me and tucked me into bed, I guess.
The next morning I slept until 11:00, when Faye looked in on me as I was starting to come round. She handed me a glass of orange juice and said, "I want to thank you for helping us out last night. Tiffany will be out for at least a week, and we really need your help. You made $450 last night, on top of your accounting wages. But we're going to have to change your status. Nicole will have to get a work card. She's already fucked for money, so there's no choice in the matter. It won't be difficult. Actually, I misled you a bit. Licensed workers don't need to get the health check. Working girls with Work Cards do, so you've already had yours. I wanted you have the exam just in case things ever worked out this way. By the way, when's your next period?"
"In about two weeks," I said. For some reason I wasn't mad at her for her deception. I'd somehow just accepted the fact that I now fucked for money. The word whore never entered my mind.
"Good," she said. "I've got some ideas I've been thinking over, but I'll keep mulling them over and talk to you about it then. Today you'll have to get another pap smear, but no blood test. One a week." As she left I saw that the name on my door was now Nicole, in indelible ink.
When I talked to the doctor that afternoon I said, "I guess I've changed my mind about contraception."
"Well," she said "you could do the usual injections, implants or pills, but have you ever heard of Lybrel or Seasonique?"
"No," I said, "I haven't."
"They're both fairly new. Lybrel is a daily low-dosage pill, and as long as you're on it you'll have no periods. Zero. Seasonique is similar to the standard pill, but you'd take seven placebo pills during your period and then a daily pill for 84 days, so you'd basically have a period once every three months."
"Wow," I said. "Are they safe?"
"Yes, they are, and I have some samples of both that would get you started. Are you interested?"
"Yes, I am. I think I'd like to try the Lybrel."
Dr. Hauser left the room for a minute and came back with a packet of pills and a cup of water. "Here," she said, "take one now. Good. I'll write you a prescription for when those run out."
"That's it?" I asked.
"That's it. No more periods, and in about three days when the drug builds up in your system you'll be protected from pregnancy."
"Wow," I said again. I was thinking that we usually let momentous events in our lives slip past without recognizing them. Not this time.
Life back at my desk was tedious and satisfying -- setting up the accounts receivable and payable modules on my computer. I was right; once we took a lot of the work in-house, especially payroll, the Hen House would save a bunch of money, maybe $60,000 a year. I had to set up some inventories in the database for liquor and about five other categories. I was almost right about the cash register in the bar, it was a 60s vintage ACR machine that looked as though it had started life in a burger joint in the age before fast food chains; an old manual register might actually have been better. As I'd suspected, POS systems were expensive and the bar didn't do enough business to justify one, so I started shopping for a slightly newer machine, maybe from as recently as the 90s.
Tammy sat next to me at dinner and afterwards she asked me to come back to her room. We both took it for granted that I'd be "helping out" that night, and she found me a beige teddy and a long diaphanous wrap or robe thing that went well with it. Apparently girls went away all the time leaving clothes behind, and Tammy had quite a stock of outfits. She found me some two-inch high mules for footwear and I was set.
"We need to think about your makeup," she said. "You have a sort of 'pretty girl from the next ranch over' look and we don't want to ruin it with thick paint."
I should finally describe myself now. If you've read this from the beginning you know that I'm 22. Aside from that, I'm fairly tall at 5' 9" and I weigh about 135 pounds and have B-cup breasts. I guess I look slightly athletic, though I don't work out; lucky genes. My hair is light brown and I think my face is only a little prettier than average. Once Tammy was through with my makeup, and I was standing in front of the full length mirror in my sexy outfit I was striking. I'd never thought of myself that way, and in college I'd been too busy with my studies to spend time chasing boys. Now I looked like bait. Time for another "Wow."
That night was another night of firsts. Tammy had explained what half and half was -- part blow job and part fucking -- and I did that twice. I was fascinated by cocks, and being able to play with them, but the rubber taste of sucking them through a condom was a turnoff. I don't think it's all that good for the guys either, but most of them still ask for it. One guy did me from behind, doggy style, and pulled my hair while he slammed into me; I loved it. The last guy asked me if I did anal, and I said I'd never done that or thought about it. "You should consider it," he said, and dropped the subject. Luckily I wasn't sore from the day before and I did five guys; I lost track of the orgasms. After the house's fifty percent I made $875.
Tammy had become my closest friend, and while we were having fruit and juice the next morning she teased me and wanted to know all the details of the last night. I told her, of course, and then I said," There were a couple things that struck me as strange. When a cock slides into me I lose it, and my rational mind shuts down. The weird thing is that I think I'd do about anything the guy told me to when I'm in that state. The other thing is that I'm sort of thinking of myself as two different people; Joan the accountant and Nicole the farmgirl sex fiend. It's strange"
"Oh, don't worry about it," Tammy said. "We all fantasize when we're working, and especially when we're fucking. It's natural."
That afternoon I did computer stuff until Faye and I got together to go over the books, and when we finished that, or gave up for the day, she looked at me and said," Tammy told me about how you've been doing, I hope you don't mind. Speaking from experience, we all fantasize when we're on our backs with our knees near our shoulders. I suspect that you, as Nicole, have a strong submissive streak, and I wonder if you might be right take over some of the light bondage and submission play that nobody has been doing here since a girl named Audrey left a couple months ago. It would be pretty mild stuff, really, and there's a good market for it. I have a friend named Mary in San Francisco who knows about these things, and I might like you to go visit her and get her opinion. I'll give her a call today."
I told her about my visit to the doctor that morning, and it turned out that she knew about the Seasonique but not about the Lybrel. She asked me to tell the other girls about it. "We don't want to pressure anybody though."
That night at dinner I could tell that Tammy was up to something, as usual. "So, are you thinking about doing anal? It'd be more money. You can't start right off though. You'd have to go into training, but I could help."
"I don't know," I said. "I'm not dead set against it, but I've heard that it hurts and I'm not sure I want to get into it. Or vice versa."
"Oh, come on," she said. "I'll show what's involved and you can see if you want to do it." And so I found myself, once again, in her room. In her bathroom, where she immediately started filling up an enema bag with warm soapy water.
"First, we have to get you cleaned out. Drop 'em and bend over the sink." I tried to protest, but she quickly had me bent over with my butt exposed and before I realized what was happening the nozzle was in my ass and I was being filled up with warm water."
"Eek, "I remarked.
"Don't be such a baby," she said. "Now you've just got to hold it in for five minutes. I'll keep time."
I whined and told her I couldn't do it and it felt too weird, but it did no good. She finally told me time was up and I could sit on the toilet and let it out now. When I did my bowels seemed to explode and the stink was horrid, but Tammy wasn't daunted. It wasn't her ass.
"You did great," she said. "and as a reward you get to do it again!" She meant it and before I could stop her she had another bag ready and was filling me up again. "We want you nice and clean."
After another five minutes I was allowed to do my toilet trick again, and it wasn't so nasty this time. She took me into the bedroom and brought out three conical rubber things from someplace. They flared out from a blunt tip and then fell back to a narrower notch, sort of. "These are butt plugs," she said, "sort of like the three bears. The daddy one is about the diameter of a guys cock, in the narrow part, and the idea of the training is start with the baby plug and work up to the daddy plug. Bend over and we'll get started."
"Wait, I...." It was no use. She already had the smallest one lubricated and was pushing it into my ass.
'There," she said. "It'll probably be an hour before the first lineup, so why don't you go get ready and come back in half an hour and we'll see how you're doing."
On my way to my room I tried to work out how I felt about having the thing in me. It was strange and invasive, of course, but it wasn't all that bad and I decided it felt a little sexy. I was back in her room half an hour later.
"Let's see how you're doing," she said. She had me bend over the bed and she pulled out the little plug. After a few seconds she said, "You've still got about half an hour left, so let's try the next one." I didn't realize that she had the next one ready before she was pushing it slowly into me. "Just relax," she said. "Push out. There, all done. That wasn't so bad." Easy for her to say.
"You have to work your way up to keeping them in for longer times. See if you can keep this one in for half an hour." This one was a lot more uncomfortable, but I managed it.
As she finally took it out she said, "You did real well. You should do it every day until you can keep it in for an hour, and then we'll try the next one. You could do it at your desk while you do your computer stuff!"
Surprisingly, I worked my up to the daddy one in about a week and then did my first anal with a client. Oh, how the money rolled in. I continued to do about five guys a night, but with my newly acquired talent I did make more money.
On Sunday afternoon a couple weeks later Faye told me that everything was arranged for my trip to San Francisco.
With Lady Mary
Las Vegas is the cheapest place in the world to fly to, or from, so it made no sense for me to drive my old Toyota to -- or more likely part way to -- San Francisco, over 400 miles and nine hours each way. The Hen House paid for my plane ticket and wrote it off as business training, which it certainly turned out to be. My flight from Las Vegas left at 10:30 on a Monday morning. I had to wait for an early flight from Francisco to turn around and head back, almost empty.
It was after 2:00 P.M. when Mary met me at the baggage area. We didn't have any trouble recognizing each other because Faye had given each of us a candid description of the other. She was tall, black-haired and striking, dressed in an expensive grey pants suit and looking like a model on a photo shoot trying to look like a successful businesswoman. I felt like a slovenly college student slouching home at the end of term, in my old jeans and flannel shirt.
"Hello, dear, you must be Joan," she said as she surveyed me. "Come along before someone tries to put you on a flight to Seattle."
"And you must be Mary. I've been warned about your sense of humor."
"Oh, I hope I didn't offend you," she said. "You're obviously still in impoverished student mode, but I suspect you'll get used to making decent money soon. Grunge ill becomes you, by moonlight; you're too bright. Come on, my car's not far. I trust that suitcase is nearly empty. As I discussed with Faye, you'll be taking back a fair amount of gear."
Her car was a small Mercedes coupé -- what an English friend of mine called a lady's market car.
"You'll stay at my house on Potrero Hill tonight. Are you familiar with San Francisco? I thought we'd have lunch in the Mission District. I can show you around a bit, and then I have an appointment with a client at 6:00, and you can come with me and find out about the tourist-free zone of the city"
"I've been here eight or ten times," I said, "but I really don't know the city. I suppose I've been to only the up-market tourist traps -- museums, symphony, opera, bookstores. One high class cultural hell hole is much like another -- Florence, Paris, Saskatoon," I said.
"Faye told me you were sharp. She didn't mention your wit, but maybe she doesn't know you well yet."
She pulled into a small alley and stopped in front of a restaurant with outdoor seating and a serious fern problem. Seeing my look she said, "I understand that in Portland they have moss and those big slimy mushrooms that grow out of fallen trees. You'll get used to it. Come on." She turned the car over to a valet and said, "I suppose you could eventually find a place to park on the street in San Francisco, but those monkeys with typewriters would be starting the third act of Hamlet before you managed it. I wonder if the valet is cheaper than a parking garage? I suppose I'll never know"
It was a locavore place and a bit expensive, but fun. I found out what wine goes well with raw vegetables, but I've forgotten now. Probably the fault of the vegetables.
We ransomed the car and drove a few blocks to a warehouse-looking store that did have off-street parking. It was a sex and BDSM emporium and it seemed vast. People around here obviously weren't reticent about their kinks and in five minutes looking at the merchandise I must have discovered fifty things I'd never dreamed of before. I mean, open-crotch panda costumes, coffee table-top cages, ponygirl (and guy) tack, sounding rod kits (don't ask)! It wasn't like the sleazy hole-in-corner sex shops in Vegas, I supposed from hearsay.
After I'd spent half an hour wandering around trying not to gawk like a rube Mary said, "Come on. We'll come back later but we need to go get ready."
She led me to through door that said "To the Dungeon", and we went down a staircase and along a short corridor to what must have been the building next door. There was a Plexiglas-shielded ticket booth but Mary waved to the attendant and we slipped through a door marked Staff. A few steps later she led me into a dressing room and closed the door behind us.
There was a large lighted mirror over a counter with several chairs. "Please sit down," she said. "OK, down to business. I'm sure Faye explained some of this to you, but I'll start from the beginning. I'm a Domme -- a dominatrix. I dress up in dark leather and I boss around Subs -- submissives -- mostly men, but some women. I don't fuck them, but it usually comes down to a hand job, if they last that long. Most of them are into a bit of pain and all of them crave the domination and humiliation. It's legal and lucrative. You're here because Fay thinks you might be right to do some of the kinkier stuff that Audrey used to do at the Hen House. It would be pretty tame compared to what goes on here, but you're here to learn about dominance and submission and BDSM, and for me to suss you out. I'm going to give you a look at the Dom side first, so we'll both get dressed up here and then go into the dungeon to do my 6:00 o'clock client, Ted. So let's get dressed. Any questions?"
I was a bit intimidated, so I just said, "No."
She handed me the various bits of my costume, which she'd already set aside, and quickly undressed and put on hers. I'd barely started before she was done. She was dressed all in black -- leather high heeled thigh-length boots, black stay up stockings, g-string, leather corset and long gloves. My outfit was a sort of junior varsity imitation of hers.
"Right," she said. "I'll help you with your makeup," and she did. Foundation, blush, thick mascara, red and purple eye shadow. When she was done I looked more like a Grimm brothers wicked queen than I ever did at 6:00 A.M. before coffee. She had her makeup on in what seemed like a minute, and with dangly earrings for each of us we were ready.
"I need you to sign this release, saying that you're helping me voluntarily, and then we can start." I did, and she handed me a riding crop and we went through a door into the dungeon.
It wasn't as cheesy as I'd expected. The stones in the walls weren't wallpaper and the tiles on the floor weren't linoleum. The vaulted ceiling was high and dark and there were half a dozen bondage racks or devices scattered around, though their functions eluded me. There were the obligatory whips and cuffs and leather things hung around the walls, and for some reason I thought of old Sears and Roebuck catalogues from the 1950s and before that offered up whole white-enameled metal kitchens. De Sade and Roebuck. I feared that this wasn't going to end well.
Fortunately, Ted arrived before I could muse more. I was surprised that he wasn't a 40ish, fat prat, but rather a trim handsome 30-year-old.
"I trust you paid the dungeon fee", she said. "Now pay me. Six hundred." She held out her hand and he took some bills out of his back pocket and handed them to her. He'd had them ready.
"Get out of your clothes and on your knees, where you belong" she said in a conversational tone of voice. "This is Nicole. I told her about you, and she was moved to see for herself. You may be sure that any of your usual disobedience and failures will not escape her notice. Now that you're finally nude, get up, turn around and bend over that table. Put your hands behind your back and wait, while I peruse you. Nicole, the cuffs," she said, pointing to the wall. "And the ankle cuffs."