tagNonConsent/ReluctanceCourtesan Cop Ch. 07

Courtesan Cop Ch. 07


Note: This story is Female-dominant / male-submissive, with some BDSM twist to it. If you don't like that sort of thing, please return to the menu and choose a story you will enjoy! Thanks!! All characters are over 18. This is part of a continuing story, and therefore the plotlines will not have fully resolved by the end of this installment. If you read this part before others have been completed, I thank you in advance for your patience...

And... if you are beginning this story here, you may be better off starting at part one, because it may not make much sense out of context...

To save time, here is a recap of the background as a refresher course:

*ROLE-REVERSAL: This story takes place in a world exactly like our own with two major exceptions: the traditional roles of male and female, in terms of power and dominance, are reversed throughout society; and, the physical size of male and female are altered to suit the situation. It's a woman's world, and boys have a tough time being taken seriously as the equals of women. In this fictional world, women are physically larger, averaging about 6'tall. Hips and breasts are large, and most women have 'a little extra padding'. Women wear dresses for formal occasions, and for daily wear it's slacks, blouses, and coats -- certainly feminine, but not revealing except that a woman's exaggerated curves are impossible to hide. Males average 5'7" tall, and are expected to maintain their muscular but trim figures, being out-weight by women an average of 25 pounds.

Boys know it is best to be submissive toward women, and women have engineered a society that strongly reinforces male submission and Female dominance.

*FASHION: Fashion for boys is designed to make boys look desirable to women, which includes thin and/or sheer fabrics; form-fitting stretch-pants featuring an obvious and extra thin pouch to fully display their genital bulges; low-rise pants and cropped shirts to display bare midriffs and navel piercings. Body hair is the bane of male fashion, and boys must take steps to be hairless from the neck down, especially there must be no noticeable pubic hair. Male beauty is based on the model of the 18-year-old boy -- fresh and clean and virile -- so males of all ages are pressured to look 'young'. Boys must spend enormous time and effort in gyms and beauty salons living up to the ideal of 'male beauty'.

*NUDITY: Art, advertising and all forms of media feature full frontal male nudity, including prime time TV shows. Male nudity is a very 'normal' part of everyday life. Male strip clubs are a popular place for women to have business meetings after hours. Many restaurants feature scantily clad waiters, and if a bar wants to be really successful they must be licensed to have 'bottomless' waiters. These societal 'norms' objectify the male body as a visual and sexual plaything and constantly reinforce the idea that men are merely sexual, not intellectual beings.

*SPANKING: Boys need a firm maternal disciplinary hand to guide them, and it is the 'norm' for mothers to spank their sons all their lives, even after such time as they leave home or are married off. Women also spank their adult husbands, consorts, boyfriends, etc., as it is assumed that all males are sometimes naughty or disobedient and need a woman's guiding hand of discipline to keep them in their proper place. It is expected that males of all ages receive regular disciplinary spankings so that they can be calm and productive in their subservient role in society.

*MARRIAGE: Most women take a husband, sometimes more than one, but society freely accepts that they may also have one or more 'consorts' (regular boys on the side). Many affluent women will actually have their consort(s) live in their home alongside their husband(s). A first husband would usually be 5 years younger than his wife, and as time passes, she will usually take her consorts and/or a second husband even younger. No matter what the age of the woman, the 'best' age for her to take a male is 18-23.

*PROSTITUTION: Male prostitution is everywhere under the surface of society. It is regarded as a bit 'naughty', but it is an accepted necessity in society and lightly regulated and controlled. But there is a higher level of call-boy that is specially licensed by the government and is given some real respect, and there are actually trade schools for it. These very specially selected boys are trained from youth to be a 'Courtesan' -- in the classical sense of being a sexual companion who is very well educated and intelligent, trained in the arts, fashion, music, courtesy and protocol, cooking, self defense, and every sort of high-brow knowledge. This makes a courtesan an extremely interesting companion for a lady of means, both in and out of bed...

I think that's enough to get up to speed on this fictional society... and now to the story:

Jeffrey the Submissive Decoy:

Several weeks later...

It was 7pm when Jeffrey's cell phone went off. The tune was a specific song that indicated the caller was an unknown number. He picked up.

"Hello," he said in a sweet voice, "this is Jeffrey..."

"Well hello there, pretty one, my name is Darla."

"Glad to meet you, Darla, how may I be of service?"

"Ohh, I like how that sounds. I would like to make an appointment - are you by any chance free this evening?"

He smiled, always in a rush, these women... He said, "I usually don't take appointments on short notice with a Lady I haven't met... Do you suppose we have any friends in common that I could give a ring?"

"Sure, hon," said the voice, "You could ask Sheila Davis about Darla Mayfield, she knows us both quite well."

Sheila Davis was a tall blonde woman, statuesque and over 6' tall. Jeffrey smiled remembering how the woman had towered over him in high heels. How strict and powerful she seemed, and how she made his heart flutter with a mixture of fear and intimidation at the thought of what she would be capable of doing.

But like many rich and powerful women, she turned out to be a very sweet and tender person once she let her hair down. They had started off with Jeffrey over her knees for a spanking, then she had tied him up and swatted him with a paddle, but at no time did her heart seem to be in it.

After that, they spent little time with corporal punishment and quite a lot of time in sixty-nine position. Sheila really loved the way Jeffrey's tongue pleasured her clitoris as she nursed many spurts from his penis. What she really loved was to orgasm while taking semen into her mouth - it was her top turn-on.

She had booked him from 6pm to midnight, but in their last hours together, she had held him and caressed his face as he suckled at her breast and massaged her pussy, listening to her tell him all the pain and struggle in her life.

She really needed to talk to a man and open her heart. It was not uncommon. The responsibilities and stress upon a woman of her stature, with two husbands and a concubine, two kids, a big mortgage, trouble at work. Jeffrey was an escape - a mini pleasure-vacation for her, as was often the case among powerful women.

So Jeffrey told Darla he would give Sheila a ring. Darla gave him a number to call once Sheila had confirmed.

Sheila not only confirmed, but she also made an appointment to see Jeffrey the following afternoon for lunch, followed by a few hours together. Jeffrey smiled because he really liked Sheila, he would always go the extra mile to let her forget her worries.

Jeffrey, being a detective, said, "Oh, by the way, looks like I dropped Darla's number. This phone is giving me too much grief... anyway, could you give me her cell?"

He got the number.

It was not the number Darla had given him.

He dialed the cell number he'd received from Sheila, and an entirely different voice answered.

"Hello," said the woman.

"Hi, my name is Jeffrey, and Sheila Davis gave me your number. Is this Darla?"

The voice brightened, "Yes, this is she." She lowered her voice, "Is this Jeffrey the Courtesan that Sheila just raves about?"

"Well, yes, I suppose, though modesty precludes me from admitting that Sheila raves about me..."

"Well, pretty one, to what do I owe this call?" her voice was suddenly sultry, "are you feeling lonely, honey? Are you trying to drum up business?"

Jeffrey chuckled, "Well, no, actually I had received a call from a Darla who left no number, remembered Sheila mentioning her friend, and so I was trying to get lucky that maybe the two Darlas were one in the same. Sorry to have bothered you, Mistress."

"Oh, it's not a problem at all. What woman doesn't like to receive phone calls from dashing young men with cute bottoms?" she giggled happily, "Speaking of which, now that I think of it, I suppose now that you've gone to all the trouble to find me, and been disappointed, are you free this evening?"

Jeffrey did a quick calculation in his head, decided what to do, and since he liked her voice he said, "Yes, Ma'am, I am available."

"Oh, goody, I am too. Shall I come to your lair around 8:30?"

"Yes, Mistress, that would be wonderful. I look forward to seeing you."

"Me too, I'll see you then, pretty one." And she hung up. Apparently she knew right where Jeffrey lived.

Jeffrey called Mandy, DA Murphy's assistant, and the woman who was acting as his handler for this undercover operation.

"Yes, Jeffrey," she said when she picked up.

"Hi, Mandy, can you trace the 'unknown' caller that hit my cell 11 minutes ago, and then also check this number..." He gave her the rundown of the two 'Darlas', and how he'd checked with the real Darla Mayfield and landed an appointment.

He planned to call the false Darla back and claim that a regular had trumped his schedule for the evening and try to get an appointment for the next day.

Mandy said, "Ok, do that, then call in and report. By that time I'll have the numbers traced."

Jeffrey called the false Darla's phone number and got a disconnected line.

Interesting, he thought. He guessed the false Darla didn't expect him to actually call Sheila and check.

Also interesting that the false Darla knew about Sheila...

He called Mandy again and gave her the information. Mandy said the 'unknown' was a prepaid disposable cell phone purchased out of state, and the disconnected number was a payphone in a ghetto that had been torn out by a traffic accident the night before.

Both Mandy and Jeffrey were silent for a moment, thinking.

"You know what?" said Mandy.

"Yes. This may have been first contact."

"Exactly. Keep up the work, be safe, and don't worry much, we're watching you like a hawk. By the way, those pants look nice on you. Maybe blue is your color. Bye." Jeffrey heard a click.

He looked down at himself, standing in front of Starbucks a block from his apartment. He was wearing tight navy blue leggings with a lighter blue pouch under a navy blue sweatshirt. His head swirled around, looking for his keepers while seeming not to.

There was nothing in sight. If his trained eyes couldn't catch his watchers, then he hoped the false Darla wouldn't be able to either.

He smiled as he put his cell into his pocket. That weird phone call had landed him two appointments.

Business was picking up.

Later, in Jeffrey's apartment, there was a knock on the door at about 8:35pm. Darla Mayfield (the real one). Jeffrey was dressed in a light blue sheer robe and a matching sheer string pouch. He liked to meet clients at the door looking ready and eager, to set them at ease.

Darla Mayfield was a woman in her mid forties, perhaps 5'10" tall, and pleasingly curvaceous, with black hair and striking gray eyes. In her 4" stilettos, she towered over Jeffrey as he stood barefoot. Under her coat, she wore a white silk blouse and a black skirt over the black high-heels.

She smiled and stepped quickly into the apartment, giving him the once-over as she strode by. She watched him close the door, eagerly eyeing his cute bottom, let fully exposed by his string pouch and clearly visible through the sheer fabric of his robe.

"My, you are a treat for the eyes, Jeffrey," she said happily.

"Thank you, Mistress," said Jeffrey softly, as he took her coat and hung it on a hanger in the hallway closet. "May I serve you a glass of wine, or perhaps sparkling water?"

"Yes, I'll take a glass of something red and full-bodied," she said as she took a seat on a comfortable chair.

"Yes, Mistress," he said, going to the kitchen and pouring a glass of expensive Cabernet. He returned and placed the glass on a coaster at her side.

"Thank you, dear," she said. "I thought we might discuss a little business."

"Yes, Mistress."

"I have been wondering, ever since Sheila raved about you, as to what sort of plans you have available for taking a Matron...should this session please me, of course. And beyond that, could Sheila and I share a plan?"

All Courtesans had Matrons. Usually several. They were women who paid a monthly retainer to the boy in return for certain privileges regarding sessions, sleepovers, dates for events, and even travel companionship. There were as many 'plans' as there were clients who wanted them, and a working boy needed to have the regular income of a few Matrons in order to have a more steady cashflow.

"Yes, Mistress, I have available openings for a plan, and I would be delighted of two wonderful women wished to share me in a plan." He smiled and gave her his most submissive and therefore seductive face. "My Matron, or in your case, Matrons, can own me completely, 24 hours a month, for the amount of $9,500, Mistress."

"Hmmm," she said haughtily, "we'll see how you do, and I'll talk to Sheila."

"Yes, Mistress."

Jeffrey went to his knees before her and began to remove her shoes. "May I caress your feet after a hard day's work, my Mistress?"

"Yes, you may," she said smiling, "Such a good boy you are..."

He took off her shoes and she wiggled her toes to celebrate their freedom from tyranny. Jeffrey sat Indian style with her feet in his lap and went to work on her left foot, leaving her right foot so that her toes were touching his genital pouch. He knew that ladies liked to tease a boy with their feet.

Darla leaned back sighing and sipping wine, reveling in the pleasure of the foot massage, and the fun of probing the boy's pouch with her toes. They were silent a while as Jeffrey massaged her foot and she massaged his pouch. Just as she sensed some firmness building in his sheer pouch, the boy thwarted her mission by exchanging feet.

Darla shifted gears and began to play at his genitals with her left foot, undaunted by his ministrations. She couldn't decide which was nicer, the feeling of his massage or the feeling of his growing erection. She decided they were both nice.

After a few more minutes of bliss, the woman shifted in her seat a little, drawing her skirt up to mid thigh. "Jeffrey, my panties feel awfully tight..."

"Yes, Mistress, I can imagine..."

He stood and reached under her skirt with his hands and found the waistband of her panties, pulling them down and off her ankles before laying them carefully on the coffee table.

Darla's eyes were fiery hot, staring at Jeffrey's erection standing proudly and stretching his sheer pouch lewdly. She said, "Relax me, sweetheart..." as she slid her wide hips down the seat, pulled the front of her skirt up, and shifted her thighs up over the legs of the overstuffed chair.

Jeffrey knelt obediently between her thighs and lowered his face beneath her skirt. She let the skirt fall and smiled as she sipped her wine and enjoyed the boy's tongue bathing of her full and puffy nether lips.

My, he does have skills... she thought, as his lips and tongue so softly played upon the big spread lips of her vulva and labia. Her clitoris, like many women, was nearly as large as Jeffrey's forefinger, engorged and stiff and protruding half an inch. He pampered it with his tongue, sucked on it, and flicked the tip of his tongue against it, sending shivers of delicious sensation throughout her body.

"Mmmmm... That's sooo goooood..... Ahhhhhhh....yesssss.... Mmmmmmm...." Darla's hips were wiggling and rotating sensuously as she drank in all the pleasure the little Courtesan could give her. Occasionally, she would try to take another sip of wine, but it was very difficult to concentrate on the wine, given the overload of stimulation she was taking in.

"Oh, God..." she said, setting the wine glass down hastily and putting her hands on the back of Jeffrey's head. "Yessss.... God..... that's it, yes boy.... YES BOY!!! Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!" Her body writhed and wracked as she came all over the little Courtesan, grinding her pussy and clitoris into his face.

For his part, Jeffrey was suckling her big clitoris and the surrounding flesh greedily, like the little slut he must be to practice his trade. He was happy she was coming hard for him - a happy post-orgasmic customer tended not to need to swat him so hard, if that's what she intended to do...

After several orgasmic peaks, Darla collapsed into the chair exhausted and pushed her little slut away. She absently moved her thighs back off the arms of the chair, sat up, and straightened her skirt.

"Very nice, Jeffrey," she said, breathing deeply, "we shall have to do that again later...."

Jeffrey stood as she waved him up, and she looked at his little pouch, still full of stiff penis. "You may take those pretty things off, dear, so that they won't become soiled."

"Yes, Mistress" he said, removing and hanging his robe, and then standing before her as he sexily slipped his string pouch off as she watched. He laid his little pouch next to her panties on the table and stood before her nude.

Her eyes scanned up and down his naked body several times, enjoying how pure and soft his hairless white skin looked, and her eyes came to rest and stay upon his hairless pink genitals. His testes looked so full and vulnerable, and his jutting penis made him seem so deliciously slutty.

She licked her lips, "I want a little wet snack to go with this wine, dear. Why don't you bring your pretty penis up here so I can taste you?"

"Yes, Mistress," he said. He climbed up onto the chair, placing his knees on the arms of the chair and his hands on the high back, positioning his penis directly in front of his client's mouth.

Smiling, Darla reached up and cupped his testicles in her hand, feeling their shape and fullness, and admiring the exquisite softness of his bare scrotum. She looked at his pale pink penis with the dark pink head, so beautifully shaped, and said, "I want you to thrust slowly and carefully in my mouth, pretty one, and don't spurt for me until I give you permission."

"Yes, Mistress," he said. He moved his hips gently forward as she opened her mouth to accept his penis. She liked his size - just right to comfortably fit in her mouth. He began to thrust slowly and she closed her lips and brought her tongue up to taste and feel his young shaft as it slide back and forth, in and out.

Her hands were sliding up and down his thighs and hips, feeling his muscles and squeezing is cute little bottom. She loved feeling his testes slap gently against her chin with each thrust. She loved having a boy do this - it left her hands free to explore, and the boy did all the work for as long as she liked.

As his modest penis slid in and out of her mouth gracefully, she explored the texture of his stiff penis, feeling the soft ridges of his pink head, the velvet skin, the little bumps and veins. She was pleased how the boy would give an occasional gasp when she sucked him, making his head throb and pulse.

She liked his size for this purpose, he was very comfortable in her mouth. And she liked that he was well trained to offer his penis for her enjoyment as long as she wished without spurting. He was a good boy and knew that he could not ejaculate without his Mistress' permission.

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byjeffrey214© 11 comments/ 35395 views/ 9 favorites

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