19 Shillings

"Very well, but go change into one of your clean dresses in case we have company."

...

"Welcome back, you ready for 2 weeks of constant sex to start earning back your stuff?" Tallboy announced with aplomb as I walked through the door to his office. At first I thought he had forgotten the regularity of a woman's cycle, but then I remembered he would take women out of work in the most dangerous times for impregnation.

"Indeed I am, but before I start I have a question about your punishments." I began. Tallboy grinned as such a line of enquiry would be good for him. "The situation got away from me and I was forced to wear a dress I had not yet purchased back from you, all things considered I feel the only appropriate way forward is that you give me the punishment you reserve for women who steal from you."

"I'm not going to give you the punishment for women who steal from me because it is more violent than would be prudent for our current arrangement. But I agree you deserve punishment for breaking the rules." He agreed, stopping to get lost in thought over what would be suitable. "Tiffany, can you come in here a minute?"

At his bidding one of the prostitutes appeared at his side. I made a desperate note of her face to finally remember which girl was called Tiffany.

"Tell the girls we have a dick cleaner on duty tonight." He informed before sending Tiffany away again and turning to explain to me. "Take off your dress, you won't need it."

As I stripped down he went and fetched a quill. Once naked in front of him, he wrote the words 'dick cleaner' in big letters across my chest.

"Dick cleaning duty is simple." He began as he took out some manacles and began fastening my wrist behind my back. "You roam the halls listening out for any girl who calls for your services. Then you use your mouth to clean off the man's dick. This could be a less than hygienic man that they want cleaned up for them, or it could be a man who's just finished having sex who wants all those disgusting fluids removed from his cock. Either way tonight you will not get paid a penny while you serve this establishment."

"That is a fair punishment, thank you."

"Oh, and when you get home tonight, throw away the dress you wore. I want it to be clear that any time you use something of mine, you better be prepared to never see it again." He threatened as she showed me towards the door and into the hallway.

I was halfway through my first deep breath when I heard the first call of my time.

"Dick Cleaner!" Echoed through the hallway and I followed the sound to its source.

...

"Are you distracted?" Professor Sutcliffe asked, breaking through my stupor. I shook my head but I was indeed distracted. I had gone to meet my supervisor straight after my session as a dick cleaner, the disgraceful marking of my new role still graced my chest underneath my dress, and the taste of filthy cocks still lingered in my mouth. I would barely hear the start of his sentences before reverting to memories of the previous night.

"The calculations rely on other businesses operating in a similar..." he began before my mind drifted to licking a mixture of semen and Tiffany's juices off a cock in a state of post-coital flaccidness.

"The personal stories are much better though, these poor women..." I would catch before my mind was back to cleaning the day's filth of a farmer's penis so Bernadette's cunt would not be dirtied by his affections.

"The librarian says you are still..." I would notice before once again recalling memories of a girl calling me over to clean off the dicks of men who had just finished relieving themselves, the dribbles of urine a unique taste that mixed with the others in my mouth.

"There is one interesting development, in terms of words of your exploits reaching the king's ear." I was able to snap out of my stupor for this point. "I don't know what you are doing in the poorer areas of town, but you are becoming something of a folk hero. Word has reached the king that locals believe you to be the only aristocrat who truly understands their struggles."

I suppressed a giggle, it looks like the poor area of town was no stranger to wagging tongues, but they had decided to have a joke at the upper class's expense, and I had become the punchline.

"There is now a great deal of interest in your paper, and the Lord High Admiral's face goes crimson whenever it is mentioned. You have somehow carved out a niche as champion of cheapside. The king wants you to pose for a portrait with his painter laureate that can be copied and distributed so other nobles can be part of the good graces you have earned with the downtrodden."

My mind wandered into what kind of portrait it would have to be to truly show the truth of the matter. Thoughts turned to my disgraced body on every high class wall in the kingdom and once again the taste of cock in my mouth drew my attention away from the discussion.

"Melody!" He yelled, commanding my attention now. "I've seen this before, you're working so hard on this paper that you're neglecting yourself. After this meeting you should go home and get a good night's sleep."

I wanted to tell him that in order to get a good night's sleep, I would still have to fuck 8 more men to buy back my bed.

...

It had been a fortnight of whirlwind pleasure. I worked it out, I spent more time with a man inside of me then I spent in the same room as husband. On a good nights I could have over 10 different men fuck me. A week in I started getting fucked in the ass, at first it hurt but through repetition I began to love it almost as much as when my pussy was violated.

I was beginning to once again get comfortable now that I had paid off some of my possessions, both through the sale of my body and the immediate funnelling of my allowance and academic pay to Tallboy.

I turned up to work with a big grin on my face, but Tallboy was at the door to meet me. He shepherded me into his office to talk business.

"I'm afraid you're off now, silphium can only do so much when you're at this point in your cycle." Tallboy announced.

"No! I need to keep working." I protested, not even stopping to reminisce about how far my morals had recently fallen. "How about I switch to blow jobs and anal only?"

"You're alright with that? At your last valuation you could barely tickle your tonsils with collapsing into a gagging mess on my floor and we didn't even test your ass." Tallboy mused.

"Well a lot has changed in the last couple of weeks." I hungrily replied.

"In which case, I think it's time we had another valuation." Tallboy responded. I immediately overflowed with joy. Not only was this a chance to prove myself more valuable, it was an opportunity to quantify how much better a sex object I had become since I started selling my body. No sooner had he finished the sentence then I was immediately and clumsily wrestling my clothes off my body to present myself for Tallboy's inspection.

"A lot more eager than before, that's good. You've been keeping your body clean and your pussy shaven" Tallboy noted as he once again began rounding my body, eying up every inch of my exposed flesh. "Lost a small amount of weight since last time. Guessing that's the constant labour and inability to afford meals."

Tallboy grabbed my breasts and I moaned under his attention.

"Tits are still huge and firm though." Next he grabbed my ass and kneaded my cheeks. "But now your bottom is also firming up. A lot more thigh exercise riding cocks."

Tallboy walked over to his drawer and pulled out the wooden phallus that was so daunting last time, handing it to me expectantly. I gave him a cheeky wink then let him watch me swallow it without any struggles, fishing it out to hand it back to him.

"That tiny thing is surely for beginners right? I wonder if you have something more testing I can prove myself on?" I rhetorically asked, blatantly staring at Tallboy's trousers.

"I don't mix business and pleasure." He asserted, for the first time ever looking out of his comfort zone. I saw the growing tent in his trousers and suddenly that's all I could think of.

"I can understand that with the other girls, they might leverage it to take advantage of you or gain the upper hand. But we both know I love belonging to you, being your hooker. If I wanted things to change I have a myriad of other ways to do that. So you know it's on the level when I say I want your cock down my throat for no reason other than to show you what a great whore I am." I reasoned. Tallboy's resistance was melting away as I took the initiative to begin undoing his trousers and sliding them down his legs.

What I revealed was a marvel, Tallboy was a big man and everything was in proportion. A grin crossed over his face as he saw my momentary trepidation. It only drove him on and he thrust himself forward as I did all I could to accommodate the giant cock I had goaded into life.

I have no idea how, but I somehow managed to swallow the cock and began thrusting my neck back and forward, gagging and spluttering but at no point letting up on ensuring every one of the multitude of inches Tallboy possessed was accommodated. After what seemed like more than enough time, Tallboy pulled out of me, giving me no small sense of triumph.

"It's a good throat isn't it? How about you move on to testing my pussy." I begged, turning away from Tallboy, bending over, and parting myself invitingly. I once again took a deep measure of joy in luring Tallboy out of his senses, I couldn't imagine many whores had ever achieved what I had as I felt his enormous cock begin to fill me. Then he began thrusting and it felt I was being forcibly turned inside out. My body rocked and wrecked with sinful penetration, I had been fucking a lot of men for my master, but his cock was the largest I had endured so far and the tiny amount of pain from my stretching provided a silver frame for the glorious pleasure I felt being thoroughly impaled.

Tallboy didn't get to have sex often with his policy of not mixing business and pleasure, this meant that it didn't take long for him to climax, and when he did I felt my pussy fill with more semen than I thought possible for one man to produce. I collapsed on the floor, dripping and weak as Tallboy pulled up his trousers.

"That was a mistake." He stated, coming back to his senses.

"Won't hear me complaining." I giggled.

"Alright, so your valuation is as follows, your new price is a pound and a crown. You won't be working for the next five days because you now have homework of going home and fucking your husband as many times as he can muster. You're in the danger zone and I'll be damned if I'm having a viscount bashing down my door with his military and political clout asking how his wife got pregnant when she's never at home and always here." Tallboy instructed.

It was a lot of information to take in at once. I had gotten 6 shillings better at sex, an improvement of 31.5%. I certainly would have liked to bask in that achievement but instead I was now looking in shock at what I had been ordered. I had just been told to go and try my level best to get pregnant, and I was still dripping with the seed of the man who had just ordered me.

"Very well." I replied, getting dressed and making plans for when I got home.

...

What followed was five agonising, frustrating, horrible days. Five days where I had a supercharged lebido while my husband needed to be coaxed into sex like a frightened mouse. I assured him I wouldn't go back to the whorehouse for a couple of days so if I were impregnated we could point to conception in a period where I wasn't surrounded by those of low morals. Even then any mention of prostitution, deviancy, or even how pleasurable sex was would cause him to shrink back into his shell and his penis to soften faster than grains poured into boiling soup. I spent a week walking a tightrope of desire and it was exhausting.

One weapon that I had at my disposal was the wagging tongues of the court had been steered in my favour by the endless stories coming out of the poor areas of town about my humility and charity. The posters Tallboy had printed and I had distributed (naked) had become a poor person's portrait of virtue, something to display in your house in reverence to noble Viscountess Melody of Montague and her mission to lift the lives of the poor. Suddenly everyone wanted to be on my good side, and in my absence my husband became a proxy and was certainly enjoying the attention. My long hours away didn't even bother him any more as it forced the court to engage with him, increased his political capital, and continued to solidify my saintly reputation.

I managed to spare a day to sit for my portrait, the artist and I agreed that while portraits are usually commissioned to show off wealth and status, this should forswear extravagance to show off my humility. I carefully tried to push more and more sexualised ideas, such as my figure in rags similar to the poor, or a lighter lace on my dress with hints of my anatomy showing through, but in the end the artist decided on a modern twist on the yellow flowing robes Mary Magdalene was often depicted in.

Nonetheless after five days I was able to present myself to Tallboy, pressing 2 pounds and 10 shillings into his hand.

"Your cut." I announced.

"Wait, did you charge your husband for sex?"

"Not directly, I took the money when he wasn't looking, but it's important that only my owner gets to fuck me for free. The viscount is just another John to me now." I explained.

"Alright then, heroine of cheapside, your adoring public awaits your pussy." Tallboy announced with sarcastic fanfare as he edged me out of his office and towards the basement where clients were waiting.

...

As with any new and thrilling thing, the excitement couldn't last forever, selling my body soon went from a thrill, to a pleasant way to live my life, to a monotony. Men rarely wanted to do anything more adventurous than fuck me, and it didn't take me long to pay off all the debts it was practical to pay off. I was considering breaking some more rules, inviting the wrath of Tallboy down upon me again, but fate intervened with a new source of excitement before I could.

"You're pregnant!" Tallboy exclaimed.

"You of all people should probably not be surprised." I calmly retorted.

"But how do you know?"

"I have not had my time of the month for 2 weeks since it was due, and my physician says my urine is reacting with wine in a way he would expect from one with child." I explained.

"And your husband is certain that the baby is his, I'm not going to get in trouble for this." Tallboy rambled in a panic that I had to calm him from.

"Mr. Tallboy, you are my owner, you are the first one I have told as you have to make plans for your property. But don't worry, when my cuck husband gets the news, I will ensure there is no doubt in his mind of his parentage." I reassured.

"Then what?" He asked.

"Well, in 9 months time, I'm going to need some time off, so you're going to have to think creatively about what I can do to earn myself that break." I suggested.

"Alright then, you go home and tell your husband the good news. I'm going to put together some plans." Tallboy replied, regaining his composure.

...

It is amazing how much attitudes can change over time. After a month or two of morning sickness and lethargy, my presence at Tallboy's premises became less frequent, and I didn't hear a word of protest from him.

I was able to finish my paper, His Imperial Majesty sent me an official announcement of commendation in an amount of time that assured me that he hadn't read it, and a sizable bonus payment that entirely went to Tallboy. With my paper done I no longer had an excuse to make regular trips into cheapside, yet the prolonged absence this sparked did nothing to extract any passion from Tallboy.

When I did eventually make excuses about ongoing charitable support to those I met during my research, my husband barely questioned it as my ongoing presence only enhanced my reputation as champion of the poor and heroine of the destitute. However when I returned to Tallboy, eager to once again sell my body, he was filled with concern for my unborn child and wanted to protect me from stress or harm. I suppose part of being someone's possession is being protected, like fine china that was only bought out on special occasions. I confirmed with the other women that this treatment was not usual for working girls who found themselves pregnant.

Instead Tallboy started treating me as a partner. I would be on his arm as he went to various pubs and outings with his friends, bragging to them how he snagged a viscountess. Sometimes he'd not be in the mood for sex and begrudgingly let me work but more commonly he'd fuck me then let me go home to my husband.

Right there and then I decided that I would need to plan something for myself. What was the point of my descent into deviancy, if it was just the mechanism by which I went from being one man's wife to another.

...

I showed him the poster and his reaction was a mixture of shock and disagreement.

'Parade in celebration of Viscountess Melody of Montague.' The poster was entitled, detailing plans I had spent a month organising both with wealthy members of the aristocracy and influential members of the community in the poor side of town. 'The heroine of Cheapside has submitted her recommendations on prostitution to His Imperial Majesty the King, and he will soon be enacting its recommendations. Furthermore she has received the glorious news that she is to be a mother and wishes to share her joy with the downtrodden she has sworn to help.'

"So you are to spend our money, parading yourself around the most poor and dangerous area of the city. I don't think I have the resources to defend you if you do this." He objected.

"That is partially the point. I have planned and organised this all on my own. I know what will happen and most importantly I will get what I want out of it." I replied.

"But you are with my child, you can't just go galavanting off...."

"I can and I will if I choose." I interrupted.

"But you are my woman."

"Well yes I am." I soothed, kissing him on the cheek. "And I chose to be that because you respected me enough not to protect me from my choices, to let me live my life my way and assist where you could. Keep that going, and we can return to our old arrangement after the parade."

He was stunned by my sudden outspokenness, but knew better than to cross me when my mind was clearly made up. He didn't know it wasn't the first time that day I had engaged in pretty much this identical conversation.

...

I awkwardly sat in my carriage, a modest black single horse buggy, adorned with flowers and crete paper bunting. I did not feel awkward about the adoring crowds that surrounded me, or the increasingly large baby bump, or even my modest maternity dress and ill fitting but elegant shoes. What made me awkward was that when word got around about my parade, every aristocrat trying to stay ahead of popular rebellions decided to get on board. This meant that although the parade was for me, my buggy was the smallest in the procession, and the reigns of the horse that drove it were held by my husband sat next to me.

I had such deviant designs for this parade, but as long as a legion of aristocrats each with their personal guards squatted in attendance, there were certainly no opportunities to bespoil myself as I had planned.

"This is lovely, I'm glad I agreed to it." The viscount chuckled, as if he has any right to claim any credit for this parade. "Children are dancing in the street, cheering your name. People are waving flags and banners. Earlier I even saw a poster that spoke to how virtuous you are."