Vixens - The Triple Story 01

Story Info
Lissette meets the first of three clients.
2.5k words
3.81
18.1k
2
0

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 07/04/2012
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Home Late -

For the second time this week, she had worked late. It was after three when she quietly unlocked the apartment door. The TV was on. Muted, its flickering images danced smartly in the darkness. Her sitter, Sable Ellis, lay sleeping on the couch.

Gently, she shook the reliable high schooler who, as usual, did not complain about the time. But it was a school night, and Lissette gave her an extra twenty, then watched as the weary teen shuffled down the hall to her family's apartment.

Next, she looked in on Emily. The five-year-old was right where her mom wanted her to be, in bed, clinging possessively to her pink Teddy Bear. Leaning down, Lissette planted a loving kiss on her forehead.

Exhausted but relieved at the calm, she weaved her way to bed, dropping her clothing an article at a time along the way. Finally naked, the tired escort fell forward, closed her eyes, and slept.

Barely a blink later, the ring of her iPhone jarred her to semi-consciousness. "Hullo," she offered groggily.

The source of the abrupt voice was unmistakable. Celeste, Eileen Lindholm's oppressive office manager, spoke crisply. "Ms. Church? Mrs. Lindholm wants to see you in her office at eleven."

No girl wanted to hear the words, "Mrs. Lindholm wants." Being 'wanted' meant being in trouble. She stalled instinctively: "Um...aha, sure. What's this is about?"

"Eleven," the churlish caller repeated. "Be on time." She hung up.

Still fighting to clear the cobwebs, Lissette hoping it was a bad dream, dropped back onto the pillow. But just as she closed her eyes, her intrusive phone unnerved her a second time.

It was her mother, and her question cut Lissette to the quick: "Lissette? Did little Emily get on the bus? It's a school day."

"Oh my God—Emily! Shit! Fuck!" Suddenly alert, Lissette stumbled out of bed, tangling her feet in the blouse she had cast aside in the middle of the night. Kicking it away, she burst into the little girl's bedroom.

There, still asleep, her daughter, her precious child. It was nine-thirty. In tears, the harried mom leaned back against the wall, her head thumping hard. By the time the child was up and off to school, she had missed half of the day's instruction.

Things had not started well. It was about to get worse.

LATER THAT MORNING:

'Never,' Lissette silently lectured herself; 'never has anyone pushed me around this way. The bitch has some nerve! I should walk out—quit!'

"I hope you are you listening, young lady?" Frozen in place, the shocked Lissette knew her boss held all the cards. "I will not, do you hear me? I will not tolerate problem girls here at Vixens."

Normally unflappable, the madam's words were a warning. "That stunt you pulled last night is unacceptable—and you know it. What's more, you did it with one of our regulars! Now he's gone off and registered angry reviews on a dozen websites! Look!"

Eileen shoved a stack of loose papers under the jittery prostitute's nose. "Read them," she ordered. Lissette's tired eyes silently skimmed what she already knew. "Out loud," Eileen demanded.

With a hesitant nod, Lisette recited the details of the client's indictment: "Vixens," The self-styled 'Superlative Escort Service' in New York is not what it seems. Yes, it charges the most. But the girls don't deliver. Example: Liss**** is a pricy letdown! Yes, she's beautiful. Though advertised as a 'Total Package Escort Companion', she gives the impression she has a train to catch and the 'ending' - the part that counts? SHE SKIPS IT! At those prices, a guy shouldn't get the bum's rush! Bottom line: Screw Vixens!" Jerome K*****

Lissette tried to make her case, but the exacting madam cut her off. "Eileen, he..."

"...mouth shut!" Eileen insisted. "These days, everybody checks the reviews! I should fire you, but you happen to have the prettiest eyes in New York. You're educated, cultured; I need girls like you. You cleared a ton of money your first week, so it's obvious you make the big spenders like you—at least when the mood strikes!"

"I'm sorry, Eileen, but..."

"'...sorry' doesn't cut it, girl. He paid extra for you, and you had an obligation to see he was satisfied."

But Eileen," Lisette stammered on, "Some guys expect..."

"...too much? TOO MUCH?" Standing abruptly, the savvy madam snapped back at her. "This isn't Escort 101, Lissette. It's the big leagues. You're a thousand-dollar-an-hour girl. Get a grip! I'm giving you one day—one—this one, to prove yourself! Handle it! It's what I pay you for. Am I crystal clear?"

Not knowing how to get out of the mess and desperately needing tuition money for Emily's private school, Lissette had no choice. "Yes, ma'am," she abjectly yielded.

The room turned quiet as Eileen crossed her arms over her breasts. "I'm assigning you a triple."

Lissette blanched. "A triple? But my babysitter...I mean, just last night I got home late...I can't...please don't."

"You can, and you will. Handle a triple, or you're finished as one of my girls. I have ten applicants for your slot, Lissette. Show me you can handle a triple, or it's over."

Eileen's girls despised triples. Three clients in twenty-four hours meant running around the city, catering to God knows what—or who. To make matters worse, any guy was free to demolish an escort's reputation by following up with a phony complaint. Eileen's ultimatum meant having a perfect day, and so far, today had not shaped up that way.

Eileen refused to budge. "I have a business to run, Lissette. I work hard to make Vixens New York's finest, and you're fucking me up. Give me excellence." Her message was clear: Get it right or work the streets.

Lissette hated the streets, with its twenty-dollar blowjobs and outlaw pimps, things she had done but had lied to Eileen about when she initially interviewed to work at Vixens. She had no choice since high-priced agencies do not hire street whores. Having no stomach to return there, the jittery girl cowered. "I'll make it work, Mrs. Lindholm. I...I promise. Please give me a second chance?"

"It's your last chance, Lissette," the madam said disinterestedly. "By tomorrow, I can find ten girls to replace you. Now get out." Picking up her phone, she turned away.

On the elevator, Lissette mulled last night's self-important client's damning complaint and Eileen's reaction. Bitch, she thought. Not fair. I let him come in my mouth, just like he wanted. So I spit? Big deal!

Lissette put a call through to her babysitter.

MID-AFTERNOON—

At three o'clock sharp, the door opened to reveal a big, jovial man. Instantly, Lissette felt relief that his bearing and grin spoke to friendliness. Wearing a white dress shirt, a blue silk tie, and white cotton briefs, he held a half-empty pilsner glass in his hand. "Boa tarde," he said invitingly. With a dignified bow, he kissed Lissette's hand and invited her in.

"Boa tarde to you, senhor," Lissette, taken by the unforeseen Portuguese etiquette, cooed. Straight away, the girl had a good feeling for the Brazilian sales executive.

"Some beer?" he offered. With an eye on the clock and knowing he was just the first of three assignments, the escort politely declined. Strolling up to him, and with a tender look, she thumbed the elastic of his shorts.

"No, no," he said, backing away. "You see, that is not why I called for a Vixen girl."

"Oh?" she pouted coyly, drawing back in bewilderment. "What, then? Tell Lissette."

"Pointing to a hallway door, he instructed, "You will go to the bathroom, por favor."

Perplexed, she pointed her thumb over her shoulder and said, "To the bathroom?"

"Yes. Go into the bathroom and ficar no chuveiro...I mean, stand in the shower. OK?" Confused but amused, she half-turned and guardedly asked, "Should I take off my clothes?"

"Take off your...but why?" It was his turn to look puzzled, and shaking his head, he declared, "Certainly not. You are bedazzling—so beautifully dressed. You are just what I wanted."

Curious, Lissette slipped past him to the bathroom, where she found a pale blue sink filled with ice and Coors Light. The man had positioned a steel chair just outside the shower curtain.

"Do you want me to take a shower with my clothes on, Estevan?" she asked, holding her arms out to him tantalizingly. "Do you want to watch, or will you join me?" Resolutely, he shook his head again.

Assuming its floor might be slippery, Lissette, eyeing him, leaned against the wall, and about to remove heels, he stopped her. "Shoes on," he instructed.

In a gesture of gentlemanly elegance, he held her hand as she clumsily stepped into the stall. At a loss, she turned to him, offering a pleading look. "This is very good," he complimented. "Hands behind you—wear these." Pulling a set of cuffs from the medicine cabinet, he dangled them in front of her.

Lissette's heart sank. "Shit, you're...you're a cop!" The man's carefree laughter said otherwise. Still grinning, he gulped his beer and assured her, "No, no, my dear, Eu nao sou policial...I'm not a policeman." Turning her about, he fitted the cuffs on her, and she, relieved, willingly allowed him to snap them into place. Conceding control was not high on the escort's list of fun things, but Estevan felt safe to her, so she acquiesced.

"Lissette, my dear," he earnestly explained, "You appear, um...unacquainted with my wishes, no?" Baffled, she shrugged but nodded. "You see," he went on, "I described each detail to your efficient office manager...to Senhorita Celeste, I think is her name. She neglected to explain?"

The man was genuine; Lissette knew he was telling the truth. Thinking back to Eileen's tongue-lashing and knowing the agency withheld crucial information from girls sent to Eileen's penalty box, Celeste, undoubtedly acting under the madam's orders, had cruelly withheld Estevan's agenda. It was clear. Plain and simple, the merry beer-drinking Brazilian—was a pisser.

The angry madam had intentionally handed Lissette a mess, and though Estevan's fetish was hardly new to her, with two additional clients to see, she was not in the mood to be peed on. "I have been with many Vixens," he said, "and always request they remain dressed for my special events! It is much-much fun!"

Desperately wanting to do this naked, Lissette pleaded her case, saying, "But Estevan, don't you want me undressed? Don't you want to see my boobs? My pussy?"

"No, no," he emphatically replied. Downing another beer and caressing her face with strong fingers, he lowered his voice, adding, "American beer. It makes me pee like a cavalo de corrida bebe...I mean...how do you say in English? A baby racehorse!"

Ominously, he proceeded to undo the top three buttons of the hooker's white silk blouse, and for a moment, Lissette hoped he might continue on down, but he did not. Instead, he stopped.

Pissers, though essentially harmless, for obvious reasons, annoyed Lissette. She understood that a man's sexuality is what it is, so she did not resent his natural tendencies. Instead, she directed her silent anger at Celeste, the office manager. Due to having kept the Brazilian's desire a secret from her, the latter was to blame for the fact that Lissette arrived immaculately—and expensively dressed in one of her best outfits.

Had she known, she would not have donned the woolen suit. The escort wanted to scream, but turning him down meant unemployment. With her daughter's tuition due, she had no choice.

"So," he went on, "Se faz favore, you will compliment me and stand here in the shower while I finish imbibing. I like to look at you. You are so beautiful." He put the bottle to his lips, consumed his beer in a gulp, and drew another frosty bottle from the sink.

Hurriedly finishing it, he dropped his shorts and stepped up onto the chair. His flaccid penis dangled in Lissette's face and hung loosely over a hefty scrotum covered with dark pubic hair.

His cock, short, thick, and uncut, fit perfectly with his paunchy physique. Lissette, aware of what was about to happen, shuttered her eyes and sealed her lips against the cloudburst. "No, no, no...I told the lady, your office girl, Celeste—OPEN, OPEN—mouth open...eyes open! You will kneel now, por favor."

"What a surprise," Lissette gloomily whispered. Frustrated though she was, she opened her eyes and mouth for him.

His stream was insistent, torrential. Elevated as he was, she made a perfect target, and with leisurely calm, he drenched her hair and splattered her face. Summoning all of her self-discipline, the pathetic girl stayed still for him but coughed uncontrollably as urine stung her eyes and filled her mouth and nostrils, forcing its way down her throat.

Estevan, consciously hesitating at her neck, peed into her open collar, sending vile urine cascading in a current between her breasts, into her bra, in seconds reducing her to a filthy, sopping mess.

The unfortunate girl struggled for breath, coughed more, but stayed still as he returned his aim directly to her face. When at last he ran dry, she was thoroughly soaked, hot urine even having puddled in the soles of her new shoes.

Finally ceasing, the silly man exploded into laughter, and stepping off the chair, he lifted Lissette to her feet, spun her around, and unlocked the constraining cuffs.

"Perfection!" he thundered, handing her a fluffy towel. "Perfeicao absoluta! Absolute perfection! I love—love all Vixen girls!" he happily complimented.

Lissette, laboring a smile, could not stop coughing. Stepping past him to the sink, she feverishly pressed ice cubes to her inflamed eyes.

Estevan patiently toweled her hair before handing her five crisp hundred-dollar bills. "To replace your suit," he gently informed. "And here," he added, handing her a cash-filled envelope. "Here, sweet lady; take this. Consider it a gratuity for gracefully putting up with the likes of me!"

Afterward, she returned to the hotel lobby, her long coat hiding her blotched clothing. Lissette, certain the stench of pee permeated the elevator enclosure, felt thankful to be the sole rider. Squishy shoes and all, she walked a steady pace the few blocks back to her midtown apartment.

On balance, the escort believed the Portuguese businessman had been a decent trick, and mindful of Eileen's warnings, Lissette humbly texted the madam, assuring her she would willingly agree to be drenched a second time—if the client wanted. Eileen, her mood still darkened over Lissette's lack of professionalism the night before, neglected to acknowledge the message.

Grimed, Lissette showered, but no matter how hot the water, no matter how hard she scrubbed—she could not shake her sullied feeling.

Eileen's girls hated water sports, but each was realistic, recognizing it as part of the game. If she had to do it, Lisette felt good that it happened with the pleasant foreigner, and despite the humiliation of the experience, he had been kind to her, his generous tip declaring his pleasure.

Scrubbing herself till she hurt and as clean as a girl can be clean after suffering such degradation, the harried escort dressed again, locked her apartment door behind her, dumped her filthy clothing into the trash chute, and rushed off to her second date.

To be continued...

Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
Share this Story

READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

Similar Stories

Elevated Train She rises to new heights on the El.in Exhibitionist & Voyeur
The Non-Standard Man Ch. 01 Evaline buys a toybot. He's not what she expected.in Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Orchestra A little game of foreplay for both predator and prey.in NonConsent/Reluctance
My Private Iran Pt. 01 Iranian female blogger attends milf mixed orgy.in Group Sex
Nursing My Old Male Friend A tale of erotic breast feeding on a sunny afternoon.in Fetish
More Stories