Whore Squat

She looked upwards at me frowning quizzically.

"And that's the only real time you can detect the 'big' truffle smell. And if you eat these soaked truffles, your whole body will reek of the stuff for hours and hours afterwards."

"I didn't know that."

"But you knew specially trained dogs and pigs hunt for them."

"Yeah. I knew that."

"Do you know, that no matter what a woman's fanny smells like, Sue, after eating a large number truffles, she smells like there's hospital-strength disinfectant down there where her cunt odour is coming from."

"You're getting a bit rude now. But do go on. I like it."

"Well, I mean, with respect to the woman who is interested in you – that is the woman interested in having sex with you – she is going to want you to go down on her. Do you know what that is going to be like? It doesn't sound like you've done that kind of thing before, have you."

"No. I never have done it. It worries me a little and I don't know how I'll cope but the money is going to motivate me. Is motivating me, at least into thinking about it."

"Oh don't worry. She'll know how to bring you around to it. You won't be forced into anything, more seduced into things really. Even though you can't imagine how such a thing will be possible from where you are right now. All I'm asking is that you try your best to keep an open mind about it and approach it at least open to the possibility - as time passes you will be brought along slowly into it without your realising that you're already even there."

"Okay. But I can't guarantee anything spectacular. I might end up still not being able to do it."

"That's all right. I mean, first of all I want you to think about what a wonderful person she is, how she made her fortune entirely by herself, no family inheritance or anything like that, at least not in the material sense. Think about her as a successful human being. A wonderful and a good person. Who doesn't wish you any harm or injury for one thing. And she certainly doesn't want you to be so repulsed that it would be a horrible thing to ask you or force you to do.

"I can guarantee you that you will be taken out to a top class restaurant and taken through a few orders of mussels, oysters, maybe baked Alaskan crab – with the idea in mind of the smell and taste and tongue sensation of a woman's fanny. A decent large lipped New Zealand mussel is certainly not too terribly different they say – well, and also it's so in my personal experience too."

"I like salt and pepper squid, if that's any help!" She laughed.

"Just keep looking at the money," I retorted also laughing.

"And Sue can I ask you now to take off your panties for me."

"Now. Right now?" Her hand was already under her skirt though before I needed to say anything more.

"Yes," I added, pretty much as an afterword to what was going on.

"I'll need to know that you are at least more or less prepared to work with this lady about this thing..."

"What do you want me to do?" She asked, holding the sides of her black lace panties half-way down her thighs.

"We-ll, now..." I said, starting to take a much more earnest note. "You're going to have to perform just a little for this kind of money. You want the money don't you?"

"I need the money."

I touched the 'start' button on the big audio system and Liquid Child began loudly pulsing out out their techno-ambient trance hit 'Diving Deeply.'

"Well do it then. Touch yourself and bring your fingers back up."

She lowered her panties all the down way to the floor, releasing them to fall gracefully onto one side of the pile of money. And stuck her right hand and fingers onto her vulva, which was hairy and likely probably slick and wet inside. As her first two fingers entered inside the lips, and slightly pulling the inner labia apart, I could see clearly that little tiny strands of glistening wet slick lubrication were sticking to her fingers.

She brought her hand back up and made to show me her fingers.

"No, no. You smell them. I want you to think about what might be the smell from another woman's fanny and ask yourself what you would feel like with that sort of smell on your fingers from another woman..."

I took her hand away from her face then and lifted it to near my nose. It was a fairly light scent, really. A little urine, a little clean ocean, and only a tiny bit of dirty urchin!

"Do you use baby wipes a lot?" I asked out of sheer experience with these types of women. I mean hey, we're not talking more than five or eight, but I knew what they tended to be like, especially nowadays.

"How did you know? Do I smell of baby-wipes?!" She seemed incredulous.

"No. You just don't smell of fanny enough. So keep it down with the wipes, okay. No one wants to lick a cake of soap. Maybe you think she should buy you a bowl of boiled baby-wipes instead of chilli mussels. What do you think?"

"Actually I can handle raw oysters. Plenty of tabasco with them though. And parsley. My father taught me to eat oysters. Took years and years and I thought they were plenty disgusting to begin with. And then one day – wham! I really began to like them. Not love them, mind you, but could handle them in front of people who said they literally hated the things. It was cool to be able to do that!"

"Sue. I hope you don't mind but for the sake of this exercise from time to time I'll need to use some fairly derogatory language. Don't take it personally because not only do I understand the needs and motivation to do with money but also the sheer attactiveness of sex itself. To those of us, like you and me, for instance, who really like it a lot. You told me you were fairly highly-sexed, or did I misunderstand that?"

"Oh no, no. You're quite correct. I'm very highly-sexed in the right contexts."

"And is this, the right context?"

"Yes. Yes, it is."

"Okay then. Do you know then, Sue, what a whore squat is?"

"I gue-ss," she replied hesitatingly. "Kind of thing the dancers behind the rap-singers are doing all the time."

"Uh-huh."

"Sure. I can do that. Let's see now..." She lifted her skirt to around her waist and squatted down, knees wide apart, but up on the balls of her feet inside her elegant high-heeled shoes. Now, her inner labia lips were jutting out and splitting slightly open and apart and displaying the pink inside of her cunt.

"Do you feel like a slut, Sue?"

"Well I am a slut but I don't feel bad about it if that's what you're asking."

"Good good. All right." I took another long slurp of the wine glass and drained it temporarily.

"Well if that all they're going to want. This kind of thing. I can do this. That's no problem."

"Well, no. Not quite. They're going to have you wound up pretty tight first. And then when you're all sexed up the men are going to cane your bottom until you cry pretty meaningfully, girl. But you won't be crying as a young girl, you'll be crying as a mature grown woman. Which means it'll be pretty seriously painful. Do you think you'll be able to handle that or is this the bridge too far?"

"I thought you said these were nice men?!"

"They are. They're absolutely wonderful. Very gentle. Kind people. But sexually they will want to beat you really, until you break down and cry, so my advice to you is that you get to crying as soon as possible. And the more pleading and begging you can do the better. They'll listen. It's just about the domination and your submission – it's not about hurting you as such. If they could avoid it they would. And you'll meet them a lot beforehand to see whether you're prepared to go through with it all, see whether you like them or can get along with them, and slowly get to the point where you feel you are able to go ahead."

She was biting her lip now suddenly, and looking straight at me, straight in the eye.

"You don't understand. I have to tell you. I'm totally a masochist. It's the only real way I can get off. I desperately need it. I'm too afraid to tell the wrong people. You're just so perverted and depraved. I want to tell you. Tell you the truth."

"Good good."

"I really need it."

"I know. I know." At last I put down the wine glass. "Would you like to be caned now?" I asked her matter-of-factly.

"Yes. Definitely."

"Is it all right with you that I video record one or two strokes for the old men who want to fuck you as well?"

"Yes okay. What do you mean 'as well?'"

"Well I'd like to fuck you myself. And probably in just about twenty minutes from right now."

"And you're going to give me the money really? I don't care about the money right now but I will later!"

"Yes. Of course. The money is already yours. You can leave right now if you like."

"No! I want to be caned. I want to be fucked now. How do you want me? Should I bend over now?"

I could see that she was actually desperate and the tone of her voice urgent.

"Just hold your skirt raised right up with both hands at the front – hold the skirt right there. That's it. Now just spread your legs a little. A little wider. Thank you. Bend your knees, head up. That's right."

I already had the thin whippy tan-coloured cane in my hands. She hadn't seen me extract it from the top of the long side cabinet while I was talking from where it had been under a long midnight blue velvetine piece of cloth.

"Good girl. Actually I should say 'woman.' Because girls try to be tough and not show their deepest feelings, don't they? Because it seems shameful to them. Is this shameful to you?"

"No sir."

...Well and there it was. The 'sir' bit. These girls were pretty much all the same. Anyway this type of girl at least. I'm still forgetting - 'woman.' She was a forty year old woman. Polite. Respectful. Genuinely submissive. Strong body though, you could see that.

I raised the cane high behind my right shoulder and swished it with merciless full-force down hard across her exposed buttocks, raising an instant loud screech from her. Luckily the room was completely soundproofed.

Second cut and the following scream was deafening. "Calm down, you bitch. Dirty bitches like you need the kind of thrashing you're going to get. Calm down, and bend over, and take your medicine. This medicine -" Another vicious cut. This time the right leg flinched and raised itself involuntarily up off the ground at the cane tip's biting into her bottom's right side. "- is good for you. Isn't it?"

"Well?" I chided. Another severe whipping stroke right across the whole length, perfectly centred, a long cut across the whole bottom.

"Isn't it?" I shouted harshly at her.

"Yes sir," she whispered.

"But you like this, don't you, you dirty little bitch?"

"Yessir. I like it sir."

I wasn't going to execute the mindless unnecessary and uncaring violence that too many idiots carried out on trusting submissives. This girl had been telling the truth. She probably couldn't genuinely get off without a caning. Already it was clear that now at last her vagina was exuding that totally different odour from previously – this was a funky, sexual smell that was more than the ordinary smell of piss or sweat, although there was definitely strong-smelling sweat from her underarms too now; it had that characteristic salty, rusty-for-redheads, acrid and ever so slightly fishy PEA scent... Now, she was starting to get off. She was only just now really getting fully aroused!

"Now bend over properly. Get your bottom out. Give me your bottom properly." You could see her straining to comply explicitly in every detail. She was raising her tail as high up as she possibly could given her position of - legs apart, and in now rather uncomfortably high heels, hands held in front of her and holding her skirt up. Tottering. Very little balance. "Crack!!"

"Now I'm going to put the cane away and you're going to stay in that position because I'm going to sniff around your vulva. Is that pee I can see dribbling out by the way? I want you to rub it all around your vulva with your hand so I can smell it properly around your slash. Do it!" She did precisely as ordered. I leant forward and had a good long sniff. "Now, you have a nice smelly crack for a womanslut. For a whoreslut. Just like a slut is supposed to have that gets fucked by three men and licked by a woman as well."

She was whispering something but I couldn't make it out and then the next thing you know she was blathering with heavily flowing tears and blustering something about wanting to suck daddy's cock and being sorry for it. When I pushed my stiff hard penis into her it was all open and soft and slushy at the entry and clenching and flexing deep inside like some other different was there animal inside with a mind and will all of its own.

What guarantee did I have that she would be back again and again, even after or in between when the others had fun with her? The money? It wasn't my money afterall.

Maybe it was that I served her Dom Perignon afterwards. And let her wipe my arsehole with baby wipes before she stuck her finger up it while I masturbated myself, with her standing behind me and holding my bum and grabbing it all over as she tried to fuck me herself shoving her hairy groin into the side of her hand behind my bottom with its middle finger impaled deeply inside me and playing inside over the man-clit spot behind the prostate, getting me ready for a cum explosion, flicking the end of a finger back and forward over it as it swelled inside, flicking, flicking. Flicking. Spurt spurt cum cum cum everywhere. I could still smell her fishy smelly little cunt. Well it actually wasn't that smelly frankly and nor did it have anything wrong with it, it's just that's how your brain goes thinking about things like that and certainly that's how I liked to think about her. She's coming back again tonight. Late. Deep in the night.