Archer's Lane Case 01 Ch. 02

"5" said the adjoining door, and Eliza noticed a 7 at the door to Kathleen's office. When they entered, she found a room that was furnished almost exactly the same - a desk in the middle, chairs, drapes. Just no window, and no bookshelves, but instead a new looking typewriter on the desk. "This is all yours," Kathleen said. "There's also a direct connection from my room to yours, but I'll only use that with your permission."

Eliza looked around with mixed feelings. It was nice, almost pompous, and certainly not the worst place she had ever worked at. On the other hand... she was still in a brothel. Would this have any effect on her? And... would she sleep here as well?

"You mentioned room and board in the ad," she said reluctantly.

"Right," her new boss replied. "As far as board goes, there's an exquisite restaurant downstairs, which serves guests as well as the working girls here. Or we can eat somewhere else in the city, I'm not picky. As for room..." Kathleen pulled aside a curtain at the back of the room and opened the view to another part of the apartment, which was sparsely, but no less magnificently furnished, with a large bed, closets, a dresser, chest of drawers, and a door to an adjoining bathroom.

Eliza looked around and almost couldn't believe her eyes. All of this for a job as a translator and typist? Or would there other "services" be expected of her, as offered by the "dames" of the house?

Kathleen must've read the doubt in her expression. "Don't worry," she said. "The ladies here showed their gratitude when I did them a favour recently, which is why I get these rooms for free, as well as the food. So, please, feel right at home."

Eliza smiled and let her fingers run across the bed. It felt soft and inviting, very differently from the accommodations she had inhabited so far. "If you want, I'll leave you be for now, so you can get adjusted. I'll just come by one more time to leave you a manuscript, which I would need a fair copy of when it's convenient to you."

"Y-yes," Eliza answered insecurely. "Certainly, I'll get right to it."

A moment later Kathleen came back with a stack of handwritten paper, which she left on Eliza's desk. "Oh, and before I forget," she said on her way out. "It's understandable to have certain... feelings during the typing process. Just take a break, then, and take care of them, there are a few utilities in the desk drawer." Before Eliza could respond, the young woman had closed the door behind herself and had disappeared.

The translator began reluctantly to take off her coat, for the first time since she had arrived, as she noticed. She tested the chair at her desk and was surprised at how comfortable it was. It had just the right height to give her easy access to the keys. Next to the typewriter was a decanter of water and two glasses, all of it flawlessly clean and a little too ostentatious for her taste. The words of her boss still ringing in her ears, she curiously turned to the drawers and pulled out the top one.

In it were pens, paper, inkwells, blotting paper, carbon paper and a few sheets that said "Kathleen Schütz, Kaiserstraße 60, Frankfurt am Main" in nice writing on the letterhead. Disappointed, she closed the drawer again and opened the next one. What was it that her strange employer had meant? Her breath halted when her eyes fell on the contents of the drawer. In it were, neatly arranged on a velvet cushion, several round, wood carved and shiny lacquered, smooth, penis-shaped rods.

Eliza ran her fingers across one of them carefully. The shape felt nice, but left her with the feeling of just having done something very taboo, and she quickly shut the drawer again.

She leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. Should she have told her boss that she was still a virgin? Would that make her lose her employ again? Eliza shook her head. No, she decided, it shouldn't make any difference, and she wanted to do her best to hide her inexperience and learn the required skills quickly. This position was worth it.

With new enthusiasm she reached for the manuscript and began typing. It was a short story about how the narrator one night caught her secretary in the office, when she had just... Eliza stopped short and had to read the sentences twice to make sure they said what she thought they did. The secretary had just relieved herself into a coffee cup. Or "pissed in the cup," as Kathleen had written unambiguously. Just typing the words made Eliza feel a little dirty, but at the same time strangely aroused.

When the secretary in the story got her butt spanked as punishment, she already began to slide back and forth in her chair, and when this was followed by a description of how the narrator got licked between her legs, she almost couldn't control herself any more. Was this what Frau Schütz had meant earlier? Eliza paused and took a deep breath. Take a break, she had said, and that sounded wonderful right now.

Her fingers wandered to her crotch almost by themselves, just out of curiosity, she told herself, just to see if the story really had the effect she thought it did. When she began to stroke across her skirt, she felt a light tingle run through her body. Could she, should she, was she even allowed to touch herself like this? Could she resist?

Slowly she pulled up her skirt, just to reach for her bloomers, and almost by accident, her fingers slid into the slit which, held together by buttons, led to her bushy, curly pubic hair. She was incredibly wet and at first was alarmed at herself, until she found her way to her wet labia and began to rub them.

A small moan escaped her lips, and she lifted one of her legs across the armrest in a very unladylike fashion, to get easier access to her grotto of lust. If someone were to interrupt her, she would certainly be able to just quickly pull down her skirt without anyone noticing, she thought. The idea gave her courage and a sense of security, and so she began to rub and caress herself ever faster and harder, until her breath only came out in short bursts and her fingers became all drenched and sticky.

She imagined getting spanked by Frau Schütz, for being so naughty, as she... pissed in the coffee.. and then... how did she call it? "Cunt..." How she licked her cunt. The cunt, that tasted of piss, and of woman, and of... mmmh... Eliza took her fingers back out and started licking them, for the first time in her life tasting the juices that came running out of herself. It was unfamiliar, intoxicating, a little repulsive at first, but soon she was licking luxuriously even the last remains from in between her fingers, before returning her hand back to her twat, to resume the rubbing.

Would she really ever get to taste another woman's pussy? The thought of kneeling between Kathleen's legs and serving her red-haired snatch with her tongue pushed Eliza over the edge. Panting and squirming she felt warm, soft waves radiating from her crotch and washing all over her body, leaving a wonderful, warm feeling in their wake.

She enjoyed the moment at the fullest, before getting back to the manuscript, wide awake and with renewed effort. This position had very unexpected benefits, and Eliza was suddenly determined to give her very best indeed.