Terms of Repayment

My entry in the Pink Orchid 2022 for Women-Centric Erotica story event for women-centric erotica

One

I can barely remember how I started my little one-girl business now. Back in those days, goofy, skinny little Leah, barely sixteen, was often seen being dragged around the village and surrounding areas by our Border Collie and Doberman. I think my Mum started it when she asked me if I'd take a little Scottie belonging to an elderly neighbour along with our two as she was unwell and unable to get out.

I didn't want any payment for it as Dougie was a sweet little thing, but Mrs. Hope insisted on giving me a few pound coins for my troubles. She was also the village gossip and soon word got around that Leah was willing and able to take anyone's dogs for a walk after school. Before I knew it, I was in big demand and gave my informal little group of pooches the name of 'Paw Posse'.

Even when I got a bit older, I never thought of stopping it. I loved it too much and as I approached the end of my school life, it helped me relax from the pressures of exams. Seeing mad animals running around the countryside always gave me a lift and made me forget the tribulations of revision and sitting in serried ranks with sharpened pencils and calculators at the ready.

A few weeks before the exams and soon after I had turned eighteen, a new lady moved into the village, just around the corner from our house. Within days, Mrs. Hope reeled in another fish for me and I added Hugo, a very distinguished looking Afghan to my roster, which now covered everything from Poodles to Great Danes.

Hugo was like his owner -- aloof and haughty looking. We barely exchanged pleasantries as I picked him up and dropped him off, but she paid me by bank transfer on the nail, so I was happy. I only knew her as Mrs. Franklin and it seemed strange to be calling a neighbour in her early thirties 'Mrs', but if that was the way she was, I didn't let it bother me.

As each exam came and went, I should have been more and more relaxed but a fear was growing in me. I hadn't the first idea what I wanted to do with my life and was torn between going to University and taking a gap year -- maybe get by with the dog-walking and do a couple of temping jobs to pay for a few months of travel at the end of it. The money wasn't stellar, but the dozen or so hours I did each week paid my Mum some subsistence money and I had enough left over for new clothes and nights out.

Once the exams were done, I finally got my belated eighteenth birthday party some six weeks late. It was in a marquee in the village pub garden and it was great fun with friends and relations from all over the country, some of whom I barely knew existed. Previously I had been quite shy, but the confidence the dog-walking had instilled in me brought me out of my shell and I revelled in being the centre of attention.

I ended the night hidden away with a distant cousin a little older than me, petting heavily. Just as I thought I may get my first decent lay at the ripe old age of eighteen, he was whisked off home and I was left high and dry -- as ever.

The next time I saw Mrs. Franklin, she was much friendlier than previously. Her slightly hooded blue eyes smouldered into mine. "Thanks for the invite, Leah. It was a lovely night. Looks like you had a great time!"

I wondered if she had seen James and I together. We tried to be discreet, but it was inevitable someone may have seen us copping off. I didn't mind if she had -- it was hardly a porn movie -- just a bit of snogging and a few roaming hands. But I had to admit, he did feel good pressed against my midriff and had the chance arisen, I would certainly have allowed him to press somewhere a little more intimate.

As I handed Hugo's lead to her, she reached into her bag. "Just a little something to welcome you to the adult world. Don't know too much about young fashion these days, but it seemed a nice website."

I took the envelope she proffered with genuine thanks and hurried home to see what she had bought for me. At first I was a little shocked, then thought that maybe it was just an innocent mistake. Although I had seen some girls wear the sort of thing the company offered, I never considered them myself. It specialised in wet-look clothing -- stretch leggings and shiny tops with bare midriffs and puffed sleeves. The models looked outrageously beautiful and I tried to imagine myself dressed like that and the reaction I would get in the village or Amberdown, the local town a few miles away.

Despite the exotic look, the stuff was relatively cheap, so her fifty pound gift card went quite a long way. By the end of my browsing session, I had bought myself a few items from the less racy end of the spectrum but I suspected I would turn heads for the wrong reasons in my new leggings, which were sleek, shiny and very tight. The rest of my hoard would have to remain well hidden and I had no idea when or if I would ever be able to wear them out.

Maybe if I got a boyfriend, it would be a special treat for him in private.

I usually wore jeans when out with the dogs, but when I next picked up Hugo, I thought I would let her see at least one of my new purchases. Again, maybe I was just naïve in those days, but I should have had some doubts at the way she looked at me when I turned up in them. Back then, I took it to be mild embarrassment. Now, when I recall that look and think of what we have done since, I realise that it was a look of pure lust. It was a very deliberate act when she chose the website, and later she revelled in admitting it.

Thereafter she was a different person - always complimenting me on my hair, my nails, a new bracelet or pendant. She became very touchy-feely and what had before been a pale imitation of a smile was now genuine and warm. The smile lit up her face which was framed by short, beautifully coiffed almost white-blonde hair that was cropped into her neck and fell in soft folds around her ears and was teased into little peaks around the crown.

In the end, it was Hugo I had to thank for it all. Until that day, he had been one of my model charges. Whereas the others would go mental when off their leads, he held his head as if to say that he was better than them and a very refined dog indeed. He seemed to look at other dogs in disdain as they sniffed and licked at each other's private parts, as though he were above that sort of thing.

I was walking with my friend Janie and her dogs one day when a sudden, impromptu sniff-fest erupted. She was a little more experienced in life than me, and while I had managed three horizontal liaisons, she was well into double figures and was quite happy with her boyfriend.

She looked at the sniffing dogs in disgust. "God, Leah -- if we did that we'd either be called sluts or get arrested!"

Hugo seemed to hold the same view and avoided any unwanted contact. I never had an ounce of trouble with him, which was more than could be said of the rest of Paw Posse, so it came as a very nasty surprise when he darted off through a farm gate later that afternoon. I could smell the manure from where I stood and it made me gag. I gagged even more as I looked over the stone wall into the farmyard to see him happily rolling around in cow poo.

Fresh cow poo. Very runny cow poo. And Hugo, the aloof Afghan hound who belonged to one of my best customers was, not to put too fine a point on it, covered from nose to tail in cow shit.

There was no way I could take him back in that condition. I occasionally needed to hose the odd mutt down -- it came with the territory -- but this was in a different league. As it was going to take some effort, Mrs. Franklin had to know I'd be late back with him. Her face was a picture as Hugo proudly trotted down her driveway as though he was an exhibit at a dog show. I promised to make good the mess as she chastised him.

"You naughty hound, look at you. Poor Leah's got to clean you all up now, dirty dog. You need a right good trim too." She turned to me. "Know anywhere I can get him done, Leah?"

I shook my head. "Used to be a salon in Amberdown, but she got married and moved away."

I then uttered the words that - I at least - think changed my life. "I'll have a go if you like. Been doing our two for years and I'm pretty good at it. Give him a trim after the bath and stick him in front of our dryer for a bit."

She considered for a moment. "Yeah go on then -- make it worth your while as long as he doesn't come back looking like a shorn sheep."

When he did come back, her jaw dropped. "Leah, what have you done with my dog? I used to have a slightly scruffy Afghan with a look on his face that says, 'shit don't stink'. At least until today anyway. Where did you find this regal beast of noble bearing? Wow, you are good aren't you?"

Thereafter, it was like when Mrs. Hope got me my first new customers. First it was a neighbour of Mrs. Franklin, then Mrs. Hope herself. She said Dougie had never looked better and within weeks I was spending more time with scissors and shampoo than I was out walking. My kid sister and Janie helped out and suddenly I seemed to have grown into a grooming business that also offered walking.

With the exams now well over, we left school with a right old hooley of a party. I got very drunk and found out that drunken sex is not necessarily good sex. I got a fourth notch on my bedpost, but when I could barely recall his name or what he looked like the next day, I vowed never again when under the influence of cheap vodka.

My sex life was not going the way I wanted it to, but things were about to change.

Two

A few days after my largely-forgotten encounter, I was in Spain and looking forward to what my friend Maisie described as seven days of sun, sangria and sex. The 'Triple S' was our mantra throughout the exam period - the light at the end of the tunnel. I could really put school behind me, forget about mad canines for a while and go for it. It was going to be my Epiphany - I was going to get laid properly at last. Or so I hoped.

In the end, I did, but it was nothing like I expected it to be.

I flew out to Malaga with Maisie and Abbie, a cousin of hers who I had never met before. It didn't take long to realise that I wished I had never met her at all. I had saved a lot of my doggy income for the cheap flight and was glad that the accommodation was free as I was still fairly impoverished.

Maisie had studied Spanish at school and we were staying at a villa owned by the parents of Reina, a girl she had known for years. They had been regular exchange students through their teens and Maisie spoke the language fluently. They hadn't met for a couple of years but Maisie assured us she was a great girl.

Reina also spoke English fluently, but it was clear from day one that the relationship between her and Maisie had not stood the test of time. Maybe it was due to Maisie and Abbie immediately lounging by the pool, a beer in one hand and passing a joint between them and planning their assault on the local clubs. I felt for Reina as she looked on askance at the behaviour of her friend and her cousin.

I never had an inkling that Maisie was into drugs and given my brief track record of being violently sick the twice I had tried weed, stayed well clear, despite being called a lightweight by both girls. I hated Abbie from the start. She was a loudmouth Londoner with fake tan and spider-leg eyelashes. She thought she was God's gift and had a target figure in mind to add to her conquest list that was already well into double figures - if her boasts were to be believed. She was apparently dead keen to "'ave annuver spit-roast. It's fuckin' amazin'."

I would have been happy with one conquest, preferably with one nice boy, never mind two. But of course, I struck out on the first two nights whilst my two travel-mates assumed the horizontal position with practised ease. As usual, I went home to a lonely bed.

Reina had thus far declined the offer to join us in our clubbing activities. When I returned to the villa on the second evening, she was out by the pool, sitting quietly with a beer in her hand, staring at the moonlight reflected from the still water. I gave her a wide berth and went to bed. My head throbbed from the crashing beats of the music in the clubs.

So far, I'd had plenty of sun, far too much sangria and, inevitably, no sex. Oh well, two out of three...

The next night, I got lucky. Or at least I thought I did. He was a looker - a French guy also on holiday. He was in his early twenties and obviously very experienced. It should have been a euphoric moment for me to finally come on my fifth liaison with a member of the opposite sex, but afterwards, for some reason, I still felt empty and emotionless.

I was back at the villa much later that night and there was no sign of Reina. I was still awake at four in the morning wondering why it had not been an earth-shattering event when Maisie and Abbie stumbled in, giggling and laughing. They were obviously off their heads and trying to count the number of times they had done it. It was clear their night had been more enjoyable than mine.

Abbie's voice echoed along the hallway. "Told ya, one in each end. Fuckin' sick, weren't it!"

I was more than surprised the next evening when Reina finally agreed to come out with us. She didn't seem keen but tagged along as we visited a few pleasant bars, then ended up in yet another soulless, cavernous club where my senses were assaulted by more cacophony and a light show that almost induced epilepsy.

It was obvious she was as uncomfortable as I was, and when Abbie returned to the table with more drinks and a handful of pills and poppers, she rolled her eyes heavenwards. As Maisie and Abbie necked the tablets like sweeties and held them out to her, Reina refused point blank. I had never done pills, and for a brief moment almost succumbed, but seeing the look of disdain on her face, I shook my head. Maisie was quickly becoming an ex-friend in front of my eyes.

As they returned to the dance floor, eyes glazing over, arms aloft, Reina's husky voice carried to me over the music. "Fucking idiots. No telling what that shit is." She put a hand on my arm. "Glad someone has some sense." She gazed after Maisie. "Thought I knew her. Funny how wrong you can be, eh?"

I nodded my agreement. "Me too. Hope you don't mind but I think I'll cut and run. Not my scene."

She turned her big brown eyes to me. "Nice little bar back down the street. Quiet, traditional. Fancy a beer?"

I did and it felt good to be out of the club. The bar was small and a little bit grungy but it was real. Paradoxically, it was the enormous club that had felt claustrophobic and oppressive to me, not this traditional old place.

Reina ordered beer and tapas and we sat in a small booth lined with old bullfighting posters and shot the breeze and bitched about Maisie and Abbie. It was clear she regretted inviting them and I was glad I wasn't tarred with the same brush as them.

When I returned with our second beer, she took a sip and wiped froth from her lip. "So, Maisie said you pulled a looker last night, yeah? What was he like? Good I hope."

Oh great, Maisie was the gift that just kept on giving. I thought for a moment. "Yeah, not bad. OK, I suppose."

She looked at me askance. "Aw, c'mon. Big hunky French guy by all accounts. Must have been great?"

I barely knew her, but I just felt compelled to tell her. "It was good - I'm not very experienced and he was the first guy to get me off. But... there was just no spark, no connection. It should have been stellar, but I didn't even stick around for round two. Yes, he was a looker and a nice guy. Did all the right things, but something was off with it all." I trailed off and sipped my beer. "I dunno. If last night can't move me, I'm not sure what will."

I was pinned by her long, hard stare. "Have you thought you may be looking in the wrong place?"

Maybe it was my naivety but I didn't catch the nuance. I thought she meant holiday shags were not the best barometer for a meaningful relationship.

That stare was back. "Leah, mind if I conduct a little experiment?"

I had no idea what she had in mind. "Yeah, ok..."

"Close your eyes."

Wondering where this was going, I did as I was told. Soft, full lips pressed against mine. I went rigid and gripped the edge of the worn tabletop. Too stunned to move, I barely resisted as she applied a little more pressure. It could only have lasted ten, maybe fifteen seconds then she sat back and I opened my eyes and gazed across the narrow table at her, unable to speak.

She held my gaze for a moment. "Want me to do it again?"

I somehow found my voice. What I said shocked me. "Reina, we're in public!"

It shocked me as it was not a flat-out refusal. I hadn't told her to fuck off because it felt horrible and I didn't want her to. Just the fact that people might see us.

She merely inclined her head towards the bar. I followed her gaze to a rainbow flag hanging above the serving area. Her voice came to me across a haze of static. "Gay bar, Leah. Happens all the time. No-one will bat an eyelid."

I looked around properly and the penny dropped. Each table was taken by same-sex couples. In the next booth to us were two fierce-looking, heavily tattooed and pierced women of around thirty, holding hands and gazing meaningfully at each other.

I took a deep breath. "Are you? Gay, I mean."

In answer, she pulled down her off-the-shoulder top to reveal a tattoo just above her right breast. The same flag as the one that hung over the bar was emblazoned there, entwined with the Spanish flag. "Loud and proud, Leah. Loud and proud."

She took my hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "And you know something, pretty li'l Leah? I think maybe you are too. It's just that you don't even know it yourself... yet." There was a brief pause. "So, want me to do it again?"

I should have been in a state of shock at her words, but I gazed at the tabletop and my hand splayed there beneath hers. Four fingers and a thumb - one for each of my not-so-successful romps with boys. I thought of her brief kiss. It hadn't felt so bad. I didn't feel repulsed. I looked at her closely. Those big brown eyes, the fall of her lustrous, silky black hair around her shoulders, her light olive skin.

What had I to lose? Something was obviously wrong with me where boys were concerned. Maybe she was right. There was only one way to find out. I turned my hand over and gripped hers, a little thrill running through my body. "Yeah, go on then."

This time I kept my eyes open and hers sparkled in the candlelight. Her lips were slightly parted as she leaned over the table. I shivered as they pressed against me once more then slowly opened a little wider. Her tongue slid across my still closed lips. Gripping the table edge again, I willed myself to respond. I opened my mouth a fraction and she probed inside, one hand now in my hair. Our tongues flicked together and my whole body shook as if someone had switched on an electric current.

Reina became a little more urgent and before I knew it, my left hand was in her soft hair and our tongues flickered and danced as warm lips mashed together. I tried to tell myself it was wrong, but the thought would just not form in my head. Everything I felt told me the opposite -- it felt bloody amazing. A tiny voice somewhere deep in my subconscious told me that I hoped she was right about me.

After what seemed like an eternity, but must have only been thirty seconds, we broke apart and sat back in our chairs, slightly breathless. I was both appalled and excited as I realised I had a little tingle down below. It had definitely not been like that when Leon kissed me the night before.