Fantasy Becomes Reality Ch. 01

Amsterdam.

"Haec meretrix Maxima possidetur," which means: "This prostitute is owned by Maxima." Me. Meretrix historically refers to a registered prostitute, and I am registered to her, Maxima. My Domini.

Christmas 2025

The volcanic ash, all two hundred cubic miles of it had encircled the globe eighteen months ago. Napoli had been destroyed, the Italians had evacuated five million residents, there had been minimal casualties, if fifteen hundred dead can be called that. Next year we might have a summer again, but probably not until the year after, but who knows.

"Fuck, driving in that wasn't fun," Christina said, "but I like Leiden. Any word from Charlie?"

"A text over two hours ago, the idiot decided to fly, but according to flight tracker it's still on the ground."

"You're worried, why?"

"Nobody should be flying, bloody governments allowing it are playing politics with people's lives, the EU should have stood up to the Americans."

"Of course, the club could do with seeing more of them, didn't you say?"

"Only because they've more money than sense, Champagne sales are seriously down, no one else buys it, apart from the Russians, and we don't see many of them anymore. Where the fuck is Charlie, and why isn't he answering his fucking mobile!"

"Maybe he's changed his travel plans after all?"

"Then why hasn't he called?"

It was cold, the wind coming from the north. I looked out of my lounge window, the lights of the city were just coming on, the lights reflected on the surface of the canal beneath me. I was in a reflective mood, as I sipped my glass of Irish whiskey, Jamesons my preferred tipple, although I could afford a far more expensive one, Jamesons was and still is my favourite.

The last few years had been kind to me, and not just me, but "us." The semi in Woodley, on the outskirts of Reading a distant memory, although we still owned it, it is let to a family, who now called it home.

"Want another one Mum?" Lizzie my daughter asked.

"No, I am good thanks," I replied. "Have you heard from Dad?"

"He sent me a text from the airport, saying his plane was delayed, nothing since."

"I told him to catch the Eurostar, more reliable than flying, especially at the moment with all the volcanic ash in the atmosphere," I said.

"They say in a year or so it will be better," Liz said, but without conviction.

"Mmm, I'll believe that when it happens."

"At least business is still full on, even with Christmas being next week."

"We should be going, Domina is expecting us, and you have work, as do I, and we don't want to be late, do we!"

I finished my drink in one, and put the glass on the table, cut crystal, when once it would have been one from Ikea.

We'd done well...............

****

Reading, England. 2021.

I'd been lucky in finding a husband like Charlie, we liked the same things, and as it turned out had a similar fantasy, not the same, well you'll find out, mustn't get ahead of myself. Let me do the introductions, I am Nicola Latham, nee Wilson, I'm thirty-five, tall at 5'9", my hair is red, so naturally, at school I was called Ginger, as was my equally tall, elder sister Christina, older by a year. We were both blessed with long legs which are slightly out of proportion to our bodies, which are long and slender. And as far as Charlie is concerned, I've "great tits," 36D, with hips to match, and a waist even after I'd had Liz that gave me an hourglass figure. Our daughter, Elizabeth takes after me, slightly shorter at 5'8" and with a 34C bust, but with my legs. Our "boss" calls her a walking wet dream, I see her point. Charlie mustn't leave him out of this, as it's his story as much as mine, he's 6'2", athletically built, with black hair, which is greying at the temples, giving him a rather distinguished look, he's forty-three, and still plays club rugby when he can. I'd rather he didn't, time to switch to golf I seem to be always telling him. Or is that nagging!

After Liz was born our love life took a nosedive, I'd expected that, but not to the extent it did. That all changed at a barbeque at my parent's house, no, really! The subject of favourite films came up, I still don't know why, or how, that doesn't matter. I remembered what mine and my sisters was back in the day, Pretty Woman, which my dad disapproved of, not the film, but because me and sis then decided to dress as a pair of prostitutes. Dad went nuts if he saw us, Mum was more chilled, as her film was Mona Lisa, another film about a prostitute, and my Nan's the World of Suzy Wong.

On the way home, with Lizzie in the back, with her eyes wide open, I got the third degree from Charlie. Not about the merits of the film, but what me and sis had worn when emulating Julia Roberts, the high heels which we brought at a charity shop, to the short skirts, and low tops. Well, it got the boys attention.

"Fuck Nicola, you dressed up as a prozzy!" Charlie exclaimed. "Wow!"

"Dad, language, I am here, remember!" Liz reminded us from the back seat.

"You'd like me dressed like that?" I asked him, ignoring the teenage strop, who was now all ears.

"Yes," he said quietly, so that I almost missed it.

I thought back to when we'd played at being Julia Roberts in that film, how I'd felt, and the buzz it had given me.

"Me too Charlie, me too."

That night, for the first time in years, we fucked like rabbits, and then went again.

The next day, I phoned in sick, sent Liz to school, then hit the shops. Victoria Secret for a much-needed upgrade to my underwear, the granny pants were going in the bin. I was remeasured in Marks for a new bra, I was wearing the wrong size, hence the strap being halfway up my back. Stockings, even a couple of suspender belts. Then some skirts, and a couple of dresses, all short, tight, and clingy. I already had a couple of pairs of heels, but it was when I passed the Cancer Research shop that I saw what I needed. I brought them all, six pairs of skyscraper heels, hardly worn, and in my size. All various colours and styles. I couldn't help smiling. Then another stroke of luck, a woman walking towards me, chewing gum, a total slapper. But it was her earrings that got my attention, hoops coming almost to her shoulders. I turned around and went back to Claires accessories.

When I got home, I played dress up, or in this case should that be dress down? Then I hid it all away, for the weekend.

The week was one of those ten-day ones, where Friday never comes. But it did, eventually. Liz was spending the night at one of her friends, as soon as she was out of the house, I shot upstairs. I'd already showered. I went to work on my face with my sponges, foundation, then concealer, blend then more foundation. Heavy on the eye liner, mascara, and eye shadow, Blusher blended in a blur of brushes. Another application of mascara, note to self: false eye lashes required.

Then I stripped off, suspenders or holdups? Easy, suspenders, plus a half bra, the girls once adjusted looked perfect. A thong, which like the cups of my bra was semi-transparent. I always kept my lady garden trimmed to a neat landing strip, smooth underneath. My red pubes on veiled view. I rolled the black eight denier stockings up my long legs, threaded the suspenders under my knickers, and for the first time in a decade, attached them to my stocking tops. The skirt, my favourite purchase, shoes aside, a pleated Stuart tartan kilt, that barely covered my bum, and was short of my stocking tops. Then the six-inch heels, red ones, with an ankle strap. Finally, a pair of hoops through my pierced ears.

Perfect.

I sent Charlie a text, he was at the rugby club with a couple of his mates:

"Ring me, urgently!"

Two minutes later my mobile rang. Charlie.

"Hi," I cooed in what I hoped was a sexy way down the phone, "I am the prostitute you've booked for tonight, I am at the house now, ready for you. Just to remind you it's £100 in cash please!"

"What?" He stammered.

"You did order a prostitute for tonight, didn't you?"

The penny dropped.

£100, in cash. I'll be ten minutes."

I pressed end and waited. I didn't have long.

The car screeching to a halt on the driveway, followed by the slamming of the driver's door gave me the heads up. I was standing on the landing when the door burst open, and Charlie rushed in.

"Hi, you must be my six o'clock," I called down.

"Nicola?" Charlie called up the stairs.

Now just for the record, my name is Nicola, and I hate it when it's shortened. It's Nicola, end of.

"No one of that name here," I said, "I am Nikki honey, you've got my money?"

"Yes," he stammered.

"Then don't you think you should come up and give it to me, or shall I come down?"

"Err!"

"I'll come down then," I said, descending the stairs slowly, letting him drink in, what I hoped was a vision.

He was still open mouthed when I reached him.

"Sorry, but the money," I hinted.

He took his wallet out of his pocket, and handed me the cash, which with slow deliberation I counted.

"All there," I said tucking it in my bra.

I led him into the lounge, the curtains were open, I'd thought we'd be upstairs, oh well. I reached down and felt his cock through his trousers. Like steel, just as I remembered it being when we first met. I'd missed it, I suddenly realised. I squatted down, my bum supported by the ridiculously high heels. I unzipped him, and pulled what was mine from his fly. I gripped it tightly, wanking it several times, before gazing up at him, I opened my mouth, and enveloped the bulbous, purple helmet.

"Oh, fuck Nicola!"

I took my mouth away.

"It's Nikki!" I reminded him, before returning to my task.

I hadn't given him a blow job since his birthday, months ago, and only then because he'd practically begged me, but now I was remembering how much I loved doing it, and how much he wanted it. I needed to be careful, I didn't want him cumming in my mouth, I wanted him to fuck me, and fuck me hard.

"God that feels good," he said, placing his hand on my head.

"Hey, don't touch," I told him.

"I 'mmm sorry, Jesus that's good, don't stop."

"You want to cum in my mouth, or you want to fuck me?" I asked.

"Definitely fuck you," he replied as I knew he would.

"Ok," I said, taking my mouth away, releasing his throbbing cock, and leaving red lipstick smeared all over it, I stood.

I smiled, pulled the cups of my bra away from my boobs, then pulled my knickers down, stepping out of them, but leaving my heels on.

"On the sofa," I instructed, "trousers off."

He did what I wanted, then laid back. I opened the condom and took it out of the foil packaging.

"We don't need that... Nico... I mean Nikki."

"You want to fuck Nikki," emphasising it was Nikki he was going to fuck, and not Nicola, "then you wear a condom, I am not some slut who would let you go bareback, I'm a professional."

"I... I am sorry, yes of course."

I have to say I fumbled a bit, but got there, remembering to pinch the top, as I rolled it on. Then without letting it go, a straddled him, holding him at the entrance to my wet pussy, I think I smiled, then took just the head inside me. Fuck it felt good, so good. Then slowly I lowered myself, taking it all. It felt bigger than usual, thicker too, but so, so good.

"So big baby, so full," I breathed. "Now let Nikki earn her money, you just enjoy," I told him.

Then with slow deliberation I fucked him, I didn't expect to get off, this wasn't about that, the excitement of what I was doing was enough, for now. This was about.... I don't know... rebuilding our sex life, putting the excitement, the spice back into it.

He was getting close, when the preset timer sounded on my phone, I reached over to where I'd placed it, and set an extra five minutes.

"You need to cum now, your hour is almost up," I told him. He looked confused.

"You cum, your hour is up, I've another booking to go to..."

The mention of another booking did it, he came almost on demand. Then I got off him, dealt with the used condom, as he laid there, a look of contentment on his face.

"Wait what are you doing," he suddenly said.

I pulled my knickers up and tucked my tits back into my bra.

"Like I said, I've another booking, if you want more time ring me and I'll see if I can fit you in."

"Can you?"

"Maybe, what do you want, another hour?"

"No, all night!"

"I can come back, but all night is £500, but look, I'll let you have it for £350, cash of course. Think about it, then ring me, I've another client waiting."

I began to walk, grabbed my handbag from where I'd put it, beside the front door.

Then took my mobile out of it. I dialled the number:

"Hi, I'll be fifteen minutes," I said, then pressed end.

I looked back at Charlie.

"Remember you'll need to call me."

With that I walked out of the front door, praying to God that none of my neighbours saw me, unlikely, but not impossible. I got into my car in double quick time, then drove off the driveway, stopping at the end of the road. My heart was beating so fast I could hear it, I took a few moments, and several deep breathes, before driving away.

"Fuck sis, that was a rush!" I told Christina, my sister, as I sat in an armchair in her front room. My car now parked on her secluded driveway.

"I thought you'd bottle it!" She said, laughing.

"Drink?"

"Just a small one, I am driving, remember."

"Has he rung yet?"

"No, he's waiting for me to walk back through the door, he doesn't know the rules of the game yet!"

She poured my drink and had just sat back down when my phone rang, going straight to voicemail, which I'd changed this morning.

"Hi, you've reached Nikki's phone, please state your requirements and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"Niclo... I mean Nikki, yes, I'd like a further booking, all night please, and for the money we agreed, get back to me... please."

"Who would have thought that a family BBQ would have this effect on your love life!" Christina said.

"And who would have thought that all the females in the family had a thing for films about prostitutes!"

"Nan always has been a dark horse!!"

"How long are you staying?"

"I am at a hours booking, so an hour and a bit, let him stew. I'll give him five minutes, and then ring him."

Ten minutes later I phoned him.

"Hi this is Nikki, I've got your booking request, I'll be with you in ninety minutes, you have the money?" I asked.

"Yes, in cash as you..."

"Great." I said, ending the call.

"I'll have another but leave to whiskey out!" I said to my sister.

"Have you got any other clothes?" She asked.

"No, I didn't think, sorry."

"It's ok, but keep your knees together, that skirt hardly keeps you decent, and I am not sure I want to see your fanny!"

"I've had it waxed!"

"Yes, I can see!"

****

Over the next couple of months, we played our game, where I would roleplay as Nikki, the prostitute. Charlie would phone me, and "book me." Sometimes he'd use his phone, others his work phone, then he tried to trip me up, and borrowed various mobiles from his friends. I often wondered what they thought, but not for long.

We had collected Liz from a party in Reading, we'd had a dinner date, and were on our way home, when Charlie "accidently," drove along a certain notorious street. On both sides of the road were ladies of the night, all plying their trade, cars were stopped as the girls leaned in, selling themselves.

"Nikki would look much hotter than any of them, and would be on a nice earner," Charlie said, completely forgetting Liz was in the car, thankfully she had her headphones on, but was very much aware of her surroundings, her head looking from one side of the road to the other, and back again.

"And you'd like that?"

"Absolutely," he said.

"You mean actually working, not just dressed to look like she was working, but working?"

"God yes, I'd love Nikki to do that."

I didn't say anything, just processed what Charlie had said.

And did he really mean it, or was he just talking in the moment?

I lay in bed, wide awake, as Charlie snored beside me. It was no good, I had to know.

I dug my elbow in his side, waking him.

"Sorry, was I snoring?"

"You were, but it wasn't an issue. What you said Charlie, about Nikki, did you mean it?"

"Just forget it Nicola, I shouldn't have said anything."

"I can't. Charlie, do you want Nikki to be one of those girls we saw?"

He was quiet, his breathing heavy, as he struggled to answer the question.

"Charlie is that your fantasy, for Nikki really to become the prostitute we pretend she is?"

"Fuck Nicola, I wish I hadn't said anything, but yes!"

"Why?"

"I can't explain it, I just wish it were real."

I reached over and grabbed his crotch. His cock was throbbing, hard and extending beyond his boxers. I gripped it, then slowly began to jerk him off, then pushed the duvet off us, leant over and began to suck his cock.

"Jesus fuck Nicola, that's..."

"Quiet, I am thinking, and my name is Nikki."

He didn't last long, and soon came in my mouth, I didn't spill any, and swallowed it all.

"That was..."

"Quiet, I'll think about it, don't push me, oh and you owe me £50... for the blowjob. Now sleep," I said, kissing his cheek.

Bristol.

To his credit, Charlie didn't mention Nikki working again, I am sure he was tempted. I drove over to my sisters, I needed to talk to someone.

"You've been here an hour Nicola, so whatever it is spit it out!" Christina said, crossing the room, and sitting beside me on the sofa.

I was silent, necked my Irish, took a deep breath:

"Charlie wants Nikki to work for real," I said.

I felt better for just saying it, not that she'd said a word. Then I felt he arm around me, and I knew I'd been right to tell her.

"Let's put Nikki to one side for a minute. What do you want, the fact you're asking me says you are thinking about it."

"I think about nothing else."

"Let me say, whatever you decide, I'll be right there for you, one way or another. I won't judge. Look since you started this roleplay you have been different, happy, content in your own skin. And so confident."

"You think?"

"I know. Is Charlie pushing you?" She asked.

"God no. No, the opposite. He just says it's his ultimate fantasy."

"And yours?"

"Becoming Nikki was supposed to be just a bit of fun, it was, and it is. I love it. But that's play, this would be real, I'd be having sex with other men, and he gets off on that."

"Forget him. Do you think you'd get off on it?"

"That's the problem, if I let it happen, I am not sure where it would end, and that is what scares me."

"You my little sister, aren't scared of it, you're as turned on as much as Charlie is. Only you can decide. But you're right, you can control fantasies, you do this, then it's reality, and all control could be lost, even the ability to say stop."

"Or no?"

The journey from Reading to Bristol is short, straight down the M4. Christina was staying at ours, looking out for Liz. We were staying at the Clayton Hotel; we had a suite booked for the weekend. On the way Charlie couldn't resist, and we drove through the red-light district.

"Do you still think I am as hot as those girls over there?"

"Much hotter," he said.

"Go around again."

We turned when we could, and he drove slowly through, as I took it all in.

"You still want me to do it don't you, even though you've said nothing since that night."

"No, I want Nikki to do it, and nothing has changed."

I was silent as he drove to the hotel, parked the car, and then we walked from the car park into the hotel, the lift took us to our floor, and suite.

"Oh Charlie, I left my mobile in the car, would you?"

As soon as he'd gone, I opened my case, and took out what I needed, and retreated into the fabulous ensuite, closed, and locked the door. He'd be a while searching for my phone, which was beside me.