The Naughty Nymph Ch. 03

"Sure. And if it's not for you, we could also use a receptionist on an hourly basis on the weekends. But we can't pay a lot for that."

"No, I think I want to do this for real. I just feel like I need a lot more experience when I see all of you work."

"Don't worry," said Sylvie, "Just come by and hang with me and I'll train you. We'll get you ready for business in no time."

"Sylvie," I said, turning off the water. "Why don't you take care of your own boobs for a change? I don't think you can get mine any cleaner."

Harold

Anahí was an early riser with an amount of morning energy that most other people never got for a full day. Before Sylvie and I woke up, she had already climbed down from her shipping container, run a few kilometers across the station, showered, done last night's dishes, repaired the toaster, cleaned the bathroom, and had breakfast.

When we came over to work, coffee in hand, Rashid was reading the morning news at the security desk and she was back at it, doing push-ups in her booth.

"Cassie, you should really join me on a run, you'd need a lot less coffee. Or are your boobs too big?"

"I can run," I said, supporting my breasts with my hands. "All I need is a good sports bra."

"Great!" she said with a sadistic grin. "Tomorrow morning, five o'clock."

Five o'clock? On a cold day in hell.

"I don't own any bras, sporty or otherwise," I said and stopped in my tracks when I saw a hooded figure in booth twelve. "Who's that?"

She got up to take a sip of water. "Oh, that. I got us a slave."

"A slave?"

"Yes. His name is Harold, his wife left him here while she's out shopping. It's easy money, we don't have to do anything. All I did was let her chain him to the booth and count the cash."

"We're not supposed to fuck him?"

"It wouldn't do much for him, he's got some kind of remote-controlled implant. He can get hard but he can't cum -- not unless the missus presses a button. Same goes for peeing, he's got a stopper and it's locked."

"Poor guy," I said, but this being Zesta, nothing could really surprise me.

"It's not like that," said Anahí, switching from push-ups to crunches. "He's into this and she gets to shop in peace, it's a win-win situation. Especially for us because we get fifteen credits per hour for babysitting. She brought a bag with toys that we can use on him if we feel like it."

"Back in the day people would come to a brothel for a quick fuck and that was that."

"You got to keep up with the times, sister."

I shrugged. "Whatever, I don't judge people for their kinks. When will the wife be back?"

"She paid two hours in advance and it looked like she could afford it. Her name is Cynthia, a very nice lady. You're gonna like her."

*

Sylvie and I walked over to the hooded figure. He was kneeling on the floor, his arms horizontally wrapped in a leather armbinder behind his back, and he was chained to the booth. He wasn't a real slave, his collar didn't have ownership information and he didn't have a tattoo either. What he did have was a metal band around his scrotum and a tightly fitting hood that covered his entire head.

"Hello?" said Sylvie. "Can you hear us?*

"He can't see or hear us," I said. "And If he makes a noise, the hood will cut off the oxygen. So he won't be speaking either."

"Ouch, isn't that dangerous?"

"That's an Alderian slave hood, they are absolutely safe, people have been wearing them for centuries. But it's scary as hell if you're not used to it. I'm not into bondage, but getting fucked in sensory deprivation is quite something. You should try it if you get the chance."

I blew some air on his chest.

"What are you doing?" asked Sylvie.

"Letting him know that someone's about to touch him. Not seeing or hearing anything makes you a bit jumpy."

There was no point in having him kneel the entire time -- for fifteen credits an hour he might as well be comfortable. I grabbed him by his arm to get him to stand up and made him sit on the bed. The touch alone got his dick stand at attention in an instant.

"Look," said Sylvie, and pulled a strap-on harness with a thick black dildo out of the bag. "I never got to use one of these! May I? Pretty please?"

I grinned. The girl was excited like a kid in a candy store.

"If you want. But warm him up slowly, I don't know if he's used to that size."

*

There was no need to worry, Harold took the monster dildo like a pro. He fucked back eagerly when Sylvie did him doggy-style on the bed.

"Gods," she said and wiped the sweat off her face. "No wonder the guys like doing that to us. It's such a rush, seriously. I just wish I could make him suck it."

"That thing is too thick," I said. "I don't think there's anyone who could suck it."

"I'd make him lick it then."

"Did you try to make him cum?"

"No, Anahí said he can't. Not with that device, remember?"

"I think we owe it to him to give it a try," I said, closing my hand around his hard dick. "Let's turn him."

With combined efforts we turned Harold on his back. Sylvie continued her assault missionary-style while I took his dick into my mouth as far as it would go.

There was no doubt that he enjoyed himself, I could feel his dick pulsing and twitching deep in my throat as I held him there, only taking a short break once or twice a minute to come up and gasp for air.

"If that doesn't do it, nothing will," said Sylvie after I had tried and failed for several minutes.

I shrugged and cleaned up his sloppy dick with a tissue. "Yes. Can't remember the last time when I didn't make a guy cum, but I did what I could."

*

Over the next few hours, Sylvie kept returning to Harold whenever she wasn't busy with another client and this being a Saturday morning, he had almost her entire attention. I handled the majority of the guys while Anahí spent her time reading on top of the container. We didn't need three girls, she and Carla would join us in the late afternoon when things got busier.

When Cynthia arrived before lunch time, I was standing at the reception desk and I recognized her immediately. She was an elegant lady, mid to late thirties, in a black designer dress and a haircut that must have cost a small fortune. A young man in a smart suit was walking one step behind her, carrying half a dozen shopping bags, all from the more expensive places on the station.

"I see you're taking good care of my Harold," she said, while Sylvie was taking her husband hard from behind, slapping his ass for good measure. "I hope it wasn't too much trouble. I decided to get my nails done, we have to attend a charity function tonight."

"No trouble at all, ma'am," I said. "That's the fifth or sixth time they're at it, Sylvie's having the time of her life."

"I can see that," she said and chuckled. "Best thing that ever happened to our marriage, finding out that this is what he likes. But it's time to get him home, I'm sure he needs the bathroom by now."

"We would have taken him, it's no problem."

"That's not how it works between us," she said with a smirk. "If he wants to cum or use the bathroom he needs to ask me, I'm the only one who has the access codes. Just like I have to ask him."

"He controls you?"

"We control each other. So unless I untie him I can't go either. It probably sounds very weird, but we're both submissives, so we have to be creative."

She looked over to her husband who had the dildo in his ass, up to the hilt. Sylvie was taking a short break to wipe the sweat from her face before hammering him again with renewed energy.

"Gods," she said. "I wish I had the stamina of a twenty-year-old. And I wish I were more dominant, nothing would make Harold happier."

I smiled. "As long as you love each other, you'll be fine, right?"

"That's true. For a long time we tried to push each other into roles that neither of us was comfortable with. But since we decided to take outside help, we're happier than ever. We're each other's soulmate, it would have been sad if this had come between us."

"We're here whenever you need us, ma'am."

"Please, call me Cynthia," she said. "But we've taken enough of your time today. We should head home, we both have a mountain of papers to grade and I'm sure Harold hasn't even started writing his speech for tonight."

She looked at her comlink to check the time, then she paid thirty credits for the ninety minutes that she still owed and walked over to booth twelve.

"For your efforts, darling," she said and handed Sylvie a few coins. "I'll ask him later, but I think there's a good chance that we'll be back next week."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Sylvie, cleaning the dildo with one of our special wipes. "That was fun, I guess I'll have to buy one of these for myself."

"Oh, why don't you keep that one, dear? You earned it."

*

Cynthia led Harold out, still hooded and with a hardon. She had sealed him up with a butt plug from the toy bag -- absolutely necessary after that session -- and typed something on her comlink after the plug had been inserted. I guessed that he couldn't remove that thing without her permission either and it wouldn't surprise me if she was wearing a matching plug herself.

"How much did she tip you?" I asked Sylvie who was heading to the shower.

"Twenty credits, but the best thing is this bad boy!"

She stroked the massive dildo that was still hanging between her legs.

"Hey, why don't you bend over for me, Cassie? Do you think you can take it?"

Training

Carla had helped us on half a dozen shifts these past couple of weeks and she was popular with the guys, thanks to her enthusiasm and of course her large, beautiful breasts. She made great progress, clearly visible by the tally in red ink she kept above her pussy, but she still considered herself in training. Every opportunity she got she was checking off items from her personal list -- including working a shift chained to her booth in order to feel like a true member of the sisterhood.

When I walked in on one of Sylvie's and Carla's frequent and in my opinion unnecessary training sessions, tears were rolling down their faces and they both looked absolutely miserable. They were standing in the bathroom with two dildos fixed to the wall at head height using suction cups.

"At least you have enough common sense to do this before lunch," I said while I squatted down for a quick pee. "If you chucked up my pasta I'd make you do the dishes for a week."

"I think I'm doing it wrong," said Sylvie, blowing her nose. "There must be a trick."

"Not really," I said. "You spit on it to make it nice and slippery. Then you push it down your throat and only let it back up when you run out of air. Repeat a thousand times."

"That's how you learned it?" asked Carla.

"More or less. It's just a matter of practice, sooner or later you'll get your gag reflex under control."

I took Sylvie's dildo off the wall, tilted my head back and pushed the dildo down my throat until its base touched my nose.

"Wow," said Carla, tracing her finger over my throat. "Look, it's going all the way down!"

I counted to ten, then I pulled it out and stuck it back on the wall.

"Your body tries to reject it," I said. "Gives the dick a nice massage, that's probably why the guys like it. And some like the humiliation aspect, I guess."

Carla took the other dildo into her mouth, but when it reached the back of her throat, she retched and immediately pulled it back out.

"Why do you bother with it?" I asked. "It's not requested very often. Just send them to Anahí or me, we'll handle it."

"You always do that," said Sylvie and shot me an annoyed glance. "You're not taking me seriously. I work here, I should at least be able to do the stuff that's on the menu."

"Of course I take you seriously," I said. "I'm just concerned. If it's such a big deal for you, why don't we take it off the menu? You've got plenty of other skills, you're great at everything else."

"Forget it. I've always been good at my jobs, I'll keep going until I can do this."

"Me, too," said Carla, sounding equally determined.

"Suit yourselves. We eat in ten minutes, don't be late."

*

Even during lunch the two wouldn't give it a rest. Now Anahí was getting interrogated.

She rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to say? Some are naturals who can do it right away and the rest of us have to practice. I learned it on live dick back in the corps when I was bored out of my mind. Just give it time."

"How did you learn it, Cassie?" asked Carla, apparently not satisfied with the answer I had given her earlier.

"They taught me on my first full-time job at a brothel."

Anahí grinned. "Really? I would have assumed you were a natural."

"Nope, I have always sucked lots of dick, but I used to have a strong gag reflex. Not anymore."

"They taught you the traditional way?" asked Anahí.

I nodded, not keen on revisiting that particular memory.

"It sure is effective," she said and scooped up more pasta from the pot. Considering that ten kilometers on the promenade was just the warmup to her workout regime, it was no wonder that she ate like an Elgarian deep space miner.

"What's the traditional way?" asked Carla. "Learning by doing? With a client?"

"No," I said dryly. "As a guy I wouldn't want to stick my cock down the throat of a girl who thinks she's suffocating. She might take a bite."

The girls giggled.

"The traditional way is with a ring gag," said Anahí. "They hogtie you on a table and push a dildo down your throat. Hold it for ten, twenty seconds, pull out, repeat. All day if necessary, as long as it takes."

"Don't forget to mention that you need a bucket," I said. "With me it took three girls. One to work the dildo and two to hold me down. It wasn't pretty, I bucked like crazy."

"But you learned it," said Anahí without looking up from her plate. "Never takes more than a day. Not that I condone it, it's abusive shit."

"What do you know," said Sylvie with a broad grin after rummaging through our toy box. "We do have a ring gag. Let's clear the table, I'll go first."

Without saying a word, Rashid got up from his chair, took the gag out of her hands and threw it in the trash.

"Okay," said Sylvie, sheepishly. "Then I guess we'll keep doing this the inefficient way."

He squinted his eyes and nodded.

"Thanks, Rashid," I said. "I hope that settles it. Now, who wants dessert? I made pudding."

*

Our two youngest had taken their pudding at their favorite place -- on the artificial lawn behind the shipping containers -- while Rashid, Anahí, and I were doing the dishes. The girls were listening to music and showing each other videos on Carla's comlink.

The lawn was a recent addition and looked almost like the real thing. I had bought it from a client who insisted that it had been salvaged from a wreckage and I knew better than to ask questions I didn't want to hear the answer to. It had been so cheap that we put it on the entire area behind the containers and on top of Anahí's sleeping spot as well.

All we needed now for our back garden was another wreckage with some deck chairs and a table.

*

Twenty minutes after lunch I found them again in the bathroom. Carla was leaning against the shower wall and Sylvie was sitting between her legs, mouth open, looking up. Her strap-on harness was lying on the floor behind her with a medium-sized dildo mounted.

"You keep your mouth open to let it in," she explained, "but you don't have to swallow. Swallowing costs extra. And it's better to keep your eyes closed."

"I've never seen two whores train as hard as you two," I said while checking myself in the mirror. "The rest of us, we just wing it."

These past few weeks the two of them had become inseparable. I suspected that they just needed a pretext to hang out and I was happy that Sylvie had made a friend closer to her own age. In any case they had plenty of time, the evening shift wouldn't start until three hours later.

"You've got a fifteen year head start," said Sylvie. "How are we supposed to catch up?"

"You're doing just fine. It's gonna be a long night, why don't you two take a nap? Or maybe go watch a movie?"

"No time. Come on, sweetie, I'm waiting!"

"I'm sorry," Carla said, straining. "I'm trying, but I have a shy bladder."

"Lucky you," said Sylvie, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I have the exact opposite problem. If it wasn't for my stopper I'd be sitting in a puddle."

I had a hard time keeping myself from laughing. It was a hilarious sight, young beautiful Sylvie looking expectantly up at Carla's crotch, waiting to get showered.

"By the way," I said. "How's the anal training going?"

"Making progress," said Carla. "I've been wearing the dilator every day at work. I think I'm almost ready for my first real butt fuck. I really want to get this over with."

"She's at a diameter of four centimeters," said Sylvie. "I've got my strap-on here, I'll give her a good workout, then we'll see where we are. And right now I'm still waiting for my shower."

"Yes, yes, I'm trying," said Carla, getting frustrated. "Cassie, do you think I should go up to five centimeters to be on the safe side?"

"Don't worry," I said. "If someone's too big, just send him to Sylvie. For guys it's like a badge of honor if a whore tells them that their dick won't fit."

"I completely forgot," said Sylvie, still looking up. "We also have to do ass to mouth. That's really popular."

Whatever, I thought. If this was how they wanted to spend their time, it was their decision.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you with your blowjobs earlier," I said and squatted on the toilet. "But for your shy bladder there's a trick. Running water."

"Right," said Sylvie. "That is a good-"

Carla sighed. "Finally."

*

In the end they took my advice, or at least part of it. When I walked into the kitchen to get myself a soda from the fridge, thirsty from cleaning the red carpet in the reception area, they were watching a movie on our large screen.

Carla was bent over the table, a cushion from the sofa under her belly, and Sylvie was giving her ass the promised workout with the strap-on. The dildo wasn't huge, but larger than the average dick we dealt with at work.

"You two are unbelievable," I said. "How long have you been at it?"

"Since the movie started," said Carla and pushed a button on the remote control. "Thirty-six minutes. Second half of the movie we'll switch, but Sylvie needs a much bigger dildo if she wants to take on Kev."

If the Saturdays with Harold had shown one thing then it was that Sylvie had stamina and that she didn't like holding back. She was giving her the full length, slamming her hips into Carla with every stroke.

"And how is it going?"

"I think we shouldn't rush things tonight," said Sylvie, slowing down a little. "I don't want her to feel pain when she's with a client. It's pretty good now but the first few minutes she was way too tense."

"It's all in my head," said Carla and sighed. "When I'm alone I can almost take my hand. This is getting embarrassing, I want to get it done. What kind of whore am I if I can't even do anal?"

"Let me see," I said.

Sylvie pulled out the dildo.

"That's a nice gape," I said and ran my index finger over her pussy. "And quite a bit of natural lubrication, too."

"It turns me on, I'm just not sure if I can ever enjoy it as much as Sylvie does," said Carla, taking a sip from the soda that I had put on the table for her. Then she reached around and guided Sylvie's dildo back into her asshole.

I made a mental note to buy these girls some movie tickets, they really needed to get out more.

Vibe

Anal was by far the most-requested activity on our menu, so I could see how this particular struggle was affecting Carla's self confidence. She was right, her body was more than ready, it was just her mind that was holding her back. All she needed was a little push.